Rafe’s gaze dropped to her lips and he cursed under his breath. She was right. He’d never acted on his attraction for a woman faster. His only excuse being that he’d felt her hunger run as deep as his own and he’d been unable to resist testing that hunger when they were alone. And he’d been right. She’d gone off like a firecracker in his arms. Another few minutes and they both would have been naked and horizontal.

      Thank God he’d had enough sense to suggest they go to his room, and the restraint to release her when she’d asked. But he hadn’t wanted to. The inferno that she had lit inside him had been ready to explode. It still was, but this time partly with recrimination. He should probably apologise for pouncing on her as she had accused him of doing. It wasn’t his usual style, which leant itself to more finesse and a small measure of self-control!

      And she was his brother’s cast-off, dammit, the daughter of the man who was currently making his brother’s life hell. Jag would just love it if he had witnessed this near blunder. It had been one thing to piss his father off deliberately, but he’d never do that to his brother.

      ‘Well, I’m not kissing you now, Princess, so I suggest we leave and forget this ever happened.’

      If he could. He had a feeling he’d be dreaming about the taste of her mouth and those soft kittenish sounds she’d made as he’d cupped her bottom in his hands for a few nights yet. Even now he wanted to reach for her again.

      ‘But I was serious about what I said before.’ She drew in a long breath, her lovely breasts straining against the fabric of her gown. ‘And I’d really like to make a time to speak with you about it.’

      Rafe sent his mind back and focused on what she’d said that had halted him in his tracks. ‘Marriage?’

      ‘Well, engaged more than married.’

      He shook his head gently, unable to believe that she was actually serious. ‘I don’t do marriage. You’ll have to find someone else to fulfil that fantasy.’

      ‘I know you don’t do marriage. That’s the point. I don’t either.’

      He frowned at her earnest expression. She was either crazy or… ‘How much have you had to drink, Princess, because you’re not making any sense?’

      ‘I’ve hardly had anything to drink,’ she retorted as if he’d insulted her. ‘I’m perfectly sober.’

      ‘Then that response before was all you?’ He gave her a lazy smile as her cheeks coloured. ‘Good to know.’

      ‘I’d rather not talk about that.’ Her lips pinched together. ‘And, given what just happened, now probably isn’t the best time to discuss my proposal. Could we meet tomorrow?’

      ‘Tomorrow isn’t going to change my mind. Neither will the day after.’

      ‘Look…’ she held her hands up as if to placate him ‘…I’m not talking about a real marriage. I’m talking about a temporary engagement that works for us both. We won’t even have to spend that much time together. We just need to put out a joint statement, go to a couple of events together and break up amicably at a time that suits us both.’

      ‘As far as proposals go, this one is definitely novel, but marriage—sorry, engagement—doesn’t work for me at all. Temporary or not.’

      ‘I know.’ She gave a heavy sigh, tucking a strand of thick silky hair that had come loose back behind her ear. She looked gloriously mussed from where his hands had been and that reminded him of how much he’d like to put them there again. Unwind all that magnificent hair and find out how long it was.

      As if they had a will of their own, his eyes followed her as she paced the mahogany-decked reading room, her gown hugging her heavenly curves as she moved. ‘That’s why I chose you.’

      ‘Chose me?’ He blinked to get his brain back on line.

      ‘Yes,’ she said with the patience of a mother speaking to a recalcitrant child. ‘I need to get married—or at least engaged—and you have all the attributes I want in a fiancé.’

      Curious, Rafe found himself extending the conversation, if only for the amusement factor. ‘Such as?’

      ‘You follow your own rules, you’re completely disinterested in marriage, and your values in life are questionable.’

      ‘Questionable?’

      ‘According to everything that’s said about you, you’re quite the hedonist.’

      Rafe leant against the back of a sofa. ‘Really?’

      ‘I’m paraphrasing. But the point is we’re completely incompatible so it won’t surprise anyone when we don’t go through with the marriage, and no one will be blamed for it not working out.’ Unlike when his brother had called off their engagement and everyone had thought it was her fault. That she hadn’t been woman enough for the King of Santara. ‘It will just seem obvious.’

      ‘I have to confess,’ Rafe drawled, ‘I’ve never had those reasons put forward by a woman wanting me to put a ring on her finger before. Usually it’s more along the lines of: You’re rich, powerful and a prince.’

      ‘Oh, the prince part is important to me too. At least that you’re from Santara.’ She frowned as she perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘Women actually say that to you?’

      ‘I was paraphrasing.’ His eyes glinted mockingly. ‘So why is my being a Santarian prince important to you? I would have thought it was the last thing you would want.’

      ‘My father is convinced that seeing me happily settled will ease the current tension between Santara and Berenia and help our people move forward from your brother breaking our betrothal. He gave me six months to find someone, but I didn’t realise he was serious. Now he’s planning to take matters into his own hands and arrange a marriage that I don’t want.’

      ‘Ah, I’m beginning to see the picture.’

      She let out a slow breath, her narrow shoulders slumping slightly forward. ‘When my father is like this he’s immovable, and I need more time.’

      ‘Hmm…’ Feeling a little sorry for her, Rafe offered up the only solution he could think of. ‘You know you could always say no.’

      ‘No isn’t a word my father understands.’

      ‘Is