‘Of course it did,’ she said, blushing furiously. ‘At the time. Ramon, please, can we keep dancing? I don’t belong here.’
‘Neither do I,’ he said grimly, and he took her in his arms again and slipped back into the waltz. ‘I should be leaving for Bangladesh right now. My team’s left without me for the first time in years.’
‘Speeches are important,’ she said cautiously.
‘They are.’ The laughter and passion had completely disappeared now, leaving his voice sounding flat and defeated. ‘Believe it or not, this country needs me. It’s been bled dry by my grandfather and my uncle. If I walk away it’ll continue to be bled dry by a government that’s as corrupt as it is inept. It’s not all ribbon-cutting.’
‘It’s your life,’ she said simply. ‘You’re bred to it and you shouldn’t be dancing with me.’
‘I shouldn’t be doing lots of things, and I’ll not be told who I should be dancing with tonight. I know. This can only be for now
The music was coming to an end. The outside edge of the dance floor was crowded, but the dancers were keeping clear of the Crown Prince and his partner. A space was left so that, as soon as the dance ended, Ramon could return to his royal table.
Waiting for him were the crowned heads of Europe. Men and women who were watching Jenny as if they knew instinctively she had no place among them.
‘You have danced with me,’ Jenny said softly, disengaging her hands before he realized what she intended. ‘I thank you for the honour.’
‘There’s no need to thank me.’
‘Oh, but there is,’ she said, breathless. ‘The clothes, this moment, you. I’ll remember it all my life.’
She looked up into his eyes and felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach up and kiss him, just a kiss, just a moment, to take a tiny taste of him to keep for ever. But the eyes of the world were on her. Ramon was a prince and his world was waiting.
‘I believe there are women waiting to dance with the Crown Prince of Cepheus,’ she murmured. ‘We both need to move on, so thank you, Ramon. Thank you for the fantasy.’
‘Thank you, Gianetta,’ he murmured, and he raised his hand and touched her cheek, a feather touch that seemed a gesture of regret and loss and farewell. ‘It’s been my honour. I will see you before you leave.’
‘Do you think…?’
‘It’s unwise? Of course it’s unwise,’ he finished for her. ‘But it’s tonight only. Tomorrow I need to be wise for the rest of my life.’
‘Then maybe tomorrow needs to start now,’ she said unsteadily and she managed a smile, her very best peasant to royalty smile, and turned and walked away. Leaving the Crown Prince of Cepheus looking after her.
What had he said?
Of course they couldn’t. What was she thinking of? But still she felt like sobbing. What was she doing here? Why had she ever come? She’d slip away like Gordon, she thought, just as soon as the next dance started, just as soon as everyone stopped watching her.
But someone was stepping into her path. Another prince? The man was dark and bold and so good-looking that if she hadn’t met Ramon first she would have been stunned. As it was, she hardly saw him.
‘May I request the honour of this dance?’ he said, and it wasn’t a question. His hand took hers before she could argue, autocratic as Ramon. Where did they learn this? Autocracy school?
It seemed no wasn’t a word in these men’s vocabularies. She was being led back onto the dance floor, like it or not.
‘What’s needed is a bit of spine,’ she told herself and somehow she tilted her chin, fixed her smile and accepted partner after partner.
Most of these men were seriously good dancers. Many of these men were seriously good-looking men. She thought briefly of Cathy back in Seaport-
The thought was almost enough to make her smile real. If only she wasn’t so aware of the eyes watching her. If only she wasn’t so aware of Ramon’s presence. He was dancing with beautiful woman after beautiful woman, and a couple of truly impressive royal matriarchs as well.
He was smiling into each of his partner’s eyes, and each one of them was responding exactly the same.
They melted.
Why would they not? Anyone would melt in Ramon’s arms.
And suddenly, inexplicably, she was thinking of Matty, of her little son, and she wondered what she was doing here. This strange creature in fancy clothes had nothing to do with who she really was, and all at once what she was doing seemed a betrayal.
‘It’s okay,’ she told herself, feeling suddenly desperate. ‘This is simply an unbelievable moment out of my life. After tonight I’ll return to being who I truly am. This is for one night only,’ she promised Matty. ‘One night and then I’m back where I belong.’
Her partner was holding her closer than was appropriate. Sadly for him, she was so caught up in her thoughts she hardly noticed.
Ramon was dancing so close that she could almost reach out and touch him. He whirled his partner round, his gaze caught hers and he smiled, and her partner had no chance at all.
That smile was so dangerous. That smile sucked you in.
‘So who are your parents?’ her partner asked, and she had to blink a few times to try and get her world moving again.
‘My parents are dead,’ she managed. ‘And yours?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Who are your parents?’
‘My father is the King of Morotatia,’ her partner said in stilted English. ‘My mother was a princess in her own right before she married. And I am Prince Marcelo Pietros Cornelieus Maximus, heir to the throne of Morotatia.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ she murmured. ‘I guess you don’t need to work for a living then?’
‘Work?’
‘I didn’t think so,’ she said sadly. ‘But you guys must need muffins. I wonder if there’s an opening around here for a kitchen maid.’
But, even as she said it, she knew even that wasn’t possible. She had no place here. This was the fairy tale and she had to go home.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE night was becoming oppressive. She was passed on to her next partner, who gently grilled her again, and then another who grilled her not so gently until she almost snapped at him. Finally supper was announced. She could escape now, she thought, but then a dumpy little lady with a truly magnificent tiara made a beeline for her, grasped her hands and introduced herself.
‘I’m Ramon’s Aunt Sofia. I’m so pleased to meet you.’ She tucked her arm into Jenny’s as if she was laying claim to her-as indeed she was, as there were those around them who were clearly waiting to start the inquisitions again.
‘Aunt…’
Sofia turned to see Ramon approaching. He had one of the formidable matrons on his arm. Queen of somewhere? But Sofia was not impressed.
‘Go away, Ramon,’ Sofia commanded. ‘I’m taking Jenny into supper. You look after Her Highness.’
‘Sofia was always bossy,’ the Queen of somewhere said, but she smiled, and Ramon gave his aunt a smile and gave Jenny a quick, fierce glance-one that was enough to make her toes curl-and led his queen away.
Sofia must rank pretty highly, Jenny thought, so dazed she simply allowed herself to be led. The crowd parted before them. Sofia led them to a small alcove set with a table and truly impressive tableware. She smiled at a passing servant and in two minutes there were so many delicacies before them Jenny could only gasp.
Sofia ate two bite-sized cream eclairs, then paused to demand why Jenny wasn’t doing likewise.
