Christmas Baby For The Princess. Barbara Wallace
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she said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t.” She looked away rather than meet his eye.
Several beats of quiet followed, where the only sound in the room was that of him shrugging into his coat. Arianna prayed his silence was because he’d decided to accept her answer without asking for a reason.
“I had a feeling that would be your answer,” he said after a moment.
“You did?”
“Like I told you before, I’m not an idiot. Anyone with half a brain can tell you don’t want to be recognized.”
She should have realized her crude efforts at disguise wouldn’t make it past a man as sharp as Max. “How did you figure it out?”
“Honey, I knew the minute you walked through the door. The cashmere coat and do-it-yourself haircut were dead giveaways.
“Don’t worry,” he added, as her hand flew to her neck. “It looks better pulled up. Makes the haircut look less obvious.”
“Here I thought I was being clever.”
“You didn’t do that bad a job.”
“I could not have done a very good one either if I didn’t fool you.”
“Only because I’ve seen more than most people.”
Like what? What made him different than everyone else?
Because he was different, in so many ways.
Once more, his hands found their way to her shoulders. Despondent as she was, warmth still managed to travel down her arms. Like metal to a magnet, she felt herself leaning against him.
“Look,” he said, “I don’t know what your story is, but if you’re in some kind of trouble...”
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