Affairs of State. Jennifer LewisЧитать онлайн книгу.
and then to outpace her own imagination, which already toyed with the idea of kissing him.
“I think I’ve been working too hard lately.” That must be why the simple touch of a handsome man could send her loopy.
“Then you need to take a break.” He made it sound so easy.
“It’s not as if I can just step off the carousel and spend a few weeks in the islands.”
“Not without the entire press corps following you.” His wry glance made her chuckle. “You have to be crafty about it when you’re in the public eye. You don’t want to be caught topless in Vegas.”
She laughed aloud. “I don’t think there’s much danger of that. Oddly enough, I’ve never been there.”
“No quickie weddings in your past?”
“No, thank goodness. Otherwise my former husband would probably be preparing a tell-all biography about me.”
He slowed. “Is that a risk? Do you have people from your past who could reveal things you don’t want to be made public?” Was he tactfully inquiring about her romantic history?
“No.” She said it fast and loud. “I guess that’s something to be grateful for. My past is very plain vanilla. I was a bit embarrassed by how unexciting my life has been up to this point, but now it’s a huge relief.”
“But a little dull.” She glanced at him as he lifted a brow slightly. As if he wanted to tempt her into sin.
“Sometimes dull is good.”
“Even in the party planning business?”
“Oh, yes. Believe me, dull and tasteful goes a long way, especially when there are scandals swirling like tornadoes all around you.”
“Hmm. Sounds like a waste to me. If you’re going to have a party you might as well make it a live one. I suppose I feel the same way about life. Sometimes it drives the family mad that I can’t just plod around opening supermarkets and smashing bottles against ships, but I have to climb mountains and trek across deserts. Turning my adventures into fund-raising activities gives them an air of legitimacy, but frankly I’d be doing it anyway, simply because I enjoy it. Maybe you need an adventure.” His voice brightened.
“Oh, no.” Adrenaline shot through her. “No. Adventure is definitely the last thing I need. Really, I’m a dull and boring person. Happiest with a cup of herbal tea and a glossy magazine.” That should stop him in his tracks. And maybe she was trying to convince herself that she wasn’t experiencing a surge of excitement just from walking close to this man.
“I don’t believe a word of it.” He touched the small of her back again—just for a split second—as they descended a short flight of stone stairs. Again her skin prickled as if he’d touched it right through her clothes. An odd sensation was unfurling in the pit of her belly. One she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“Trust me,” she pleaded, as her body threatened to succumb to far more excitement than she needed. “All I really want is my ordinary, quiet life back.”
“Well.” He stopped and took her hands. Her fingers tingled and her breath caught in her lungs. “That is most certainly not going to happen.”
Two
It took every ounce of self-control he possessed for Simon not to press his lips to Ariella’s soft pink ones. But he managed. Years of royal training, accompanied by thinly veiled threats from older members of the family, had taught him to handle these situations with his brain rather than other more primitive and enthusiastic parts of his body.
He didn’t want to blow it. Scare her off. Something deep in his gut told him that Ariella Winthrop was no ordinary woman. He trusted his gut in the line of fire and on the face of a sheer cliff. It rarely steered him wrong.
Something about Ariella sent excitement coursing through him. He couldn’t explain it, or even put his finger on the feeling; it was just a hunch that meeting her could change the course of his entire life.
He even managed to let go of her hands, reluctantly, and turn toward the rhododendron border as a distraction. “The reality is that your life has changed forever.” He glanced back, and was relieved to see her following closely. “Whether you like it or not, you’re public property now.” It made him feel close to her. They shared a bond and his years of hard experience could help her negotiate the minefield of a life lived on the pages of the daily papers.
“But I’m still the same person I’ve been all along. People can’t expect me to suddenly welcome the entire world into my private life.”
“You’re not the same, though. You didn’t know the president was your father, did you?”
“I was as surprised as he was. I’d never have guessed it in a million years. Now people are even saying I look like him. It seems insane to me. I don’t feel in the least bit related to him.”
Simon surveyed her strikingly pretty face. She had elegant, classical features, highlighted by the sparkle of warmth from her people-oriented personality. “You do look rather like him. You both have striking bone structure, and something about your eyes seems familiar.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re just imagining it. Or trying to make me feel better, and it’s not working. Yes, I’d like to meet him, since we do share the same genes, but I’m sure I’ll never have the same feelings for him as I do for the man who actually raised me.”
“Of course not.” He frowned. Her moss-green eyes were filled with concern. “No one expects you to do that.”
“I feel like they do.” she protested. “Journalists keep talking to me as if I must be happy to have President Morrow as my father. He’s so popular and successful that I must be dying to claim his revered family tree as my own. I couldn’t care less. I’d rather be descended from some nice man whom I could actually meet and get to know, not some almighty, carved-from-stone figure that everyone bows down to. It’s exasperating.”
He chuckled. “Maybe he isn’t as carved in stone as you think. Sometimes people expect members of the royal family to behave like granite statues, but believe me, we have feelings, too. It can be very inconvenient.” Like right now, when he longed to take this troubled and lovely woman in his arms and give her a big bear hug.
Once again he restrained himself. He’d learned to do a pretty passable impression of a granite statue when the occasion called for it.
“I don’t think the press wants me to be a granite statue. I think they’d like to see me go right to pieces. The way they’ve been hounding me and peppering me with questions, it feels like they’re just waiting for me to say the wrong thing or break down sobbing. They must be exasperated that I’m so dull I couldn’t give them a good story even if I wanted to.” The morning breeze whipped her dark dress against her body. The soft fabric hugged contours that would bring a weaker man to his knees. If only he wasn’t a gentleman.
“You’re anything but dull.”
“Why are we talking about me? That’s a dull topic if there ever was one.” Her eyes flashed something that warned him off. “Didn’t you invite me here to help you plan a party?”
He frowned. Had he used that as an excuse? He just wanted to get to know her better. It was a good idea, though. He’d like to raise awareness of World Connect in the US and gain some new donors. “Do you think you could help me put together a fund-raiser for World Connect? We’ve never done one on this side of the Atlantic before.”
“Absolutely.” Her face lit up and he could almost feel her lungs fill with relief. “We organize gala events all the time. We can pretty much print out a guest list of people who like to support worthy causes. Happily there are a lot of them in D.C.”
“They sound ideal. And I wouldn’t turn up my nose at people who want to donate for the tax benefits, either.”