Ways To Ruin A Royal Reputation (Mills & Boon Modern) (Signed, Sealed…Seduced, Book 1) Dani Collins (lightest ebook reader txt) 📖

she began, but had no clue what she wanted to say. Then his words struck her. “Wait. Did you just buy this?” She pointed at the floor to indicate the house.

“I did. Would you like a tour? It’s not a faithful restoration. It was gutted and modernized. I think you’ll agree that’s a good thing.”

He offered his hand.

She hesitated, then moved as though in a trance, desperate for this small contact. This was how miracles worked, wasn’t it? Without explanation? She took his hand, and the feel of his warm palm against hers as he interlaced their fingers nearly unhinged her knees.

“I thought you’d be angry with me,” she said shakily. “About the letter.” Each cell in her body was coming back to life.

“I am. But not with you. I’m angry that you had to write it. The kitchen.” He identified the room with a wave as they walked into an airy space of cutting blocks and stainless steel, pots and pans suspended from the ceiling, and French doors that led to a patio herb garden. “The chef has yet to be hired, but you remember Fabiana? I poached her from the palace.”

“Yes, of course. Hello,” Amy greeted the maid. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Ciao.” Fabiana gave a small curtsy before she went back to putting away groceries.

“You can access the stairs to the terrace out there. You’ve seen the garden through the windows. Staff quarters are downstairs. Dining room, office, powder room, you’ve seen the main lounge,” he said as he walked her through the various rooms, all bright and fresh and sumptuously decorated in a soft palette of rose and gray, ice blue and bone white. Shots of yellow and burnt orange, indigo and fern gave it life.

“It’s a charming touch to keep this,” she said as she paused on the landing to admire the window seat that looked over the road. “I can imagine callers waiting here to see if they would be allowed upstairs by the duke or—” Prince.

“There might have been a receiving room up here once, but it’s all master suite now.”

It was. There was a sumptuous yet intimate lounge with a television and a wet bar, a dining nook for breakfast and other casual meals, a beautiful office with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a fitness room that would catch the morning light. The actual bedroom was enormous, and the master bath had a walk-in shower, two sinks, a makeup vanity and...

“That tub!” Amy exclaimed as she imagined stepping into what was more of a sunken pool. It was surrounded by tropical plants and candles, begging for an intimate night in.

“I thought you would like it. Look at the closet.” It had an access from the bathroom and was the size of a car garage. There was a bench in the middle and a full-length, three-way mirror at the back. Alongside his suits hung gowns and dresses and a pair of green pants with a mended fly.

It struck her then, why he’d bought this magnificent house. She’d seen the headlines since their breakup.

King’s Mistress Dethrones and Departs

Whatever magic had begun to surround her flashed into nothing. She was left with singed nostrils, and a bitter taste in the back of her throat.

She twisted her hand free of his and stalked through to the more neutral living area. Her adrenaline output had increased to such a degree that her limbs were twitching and her stomach ached. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to spit at him or run to Baz Rivets again.

“I’m not making any assumptions,” he began as he followed her.

“No?” she cried. “I won’t live here. I won’t be your—your piece in London, keeping your bed warm for when you happen to be in town.”

“Stop it,” he commanded sharply. “Think better of yourself.”

His tone snapped her head back. He’d never spoken to her like that.

She folded her arms defensively. “I am.”

“No, you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“What other conclusion is there?” She waved toward the closet.

In the most regal, pithy, arrogant way possible, he walked to a painting and gave it a light nudge to release a catch. It swung open, and he touched a sensor on a wall safe. It must have read his thumbprint because it released with a quiet snick.

He retrieved something before closing both the painting and the safe. Then he showed her a red velvet ring box and started to open it. “This was my grandmother’s.”

Amy was so shocked, so completely overwhelmed, she retreated in a stumble and nearly landed in an ignominious heap against the sofa.

She caught herself and managed to stay on her feet, then could only stare at him.

He gently closed the box. His expression became watchful, but there was tension around his mouth and a pull in his brows that was...hurt?

“As I said, I’m not making assumptions.” He set aside the box—which made her feel as though he was setting her heart over there on a side table and abandoning it as he took a few restless steps, then pushed his hands into his pockets.

He snorted in quiet realization.

“Am I making another mistake? I don’t like it,” he said ironically. “I hurt you, Amy,” he admitted gravely. “I know I did. I hate myself for it. Especially because I don’t know that I could have prevented it. As long as you were interested in me, I was going to pursue you and we would have wound up where we did. That’s been hard for me to accept. I don’t like thinking of myself as having such a deep streak of self-interest.”

He glanced at Amy for her reaction, but she had no words. He had hurt her. “I didn’t exactly run away.”

Until she had.

She bit her lip.

He nodded. “You hurt me when you left the way you did. That’s not a guilt trip. I only want you to know that you can. I stood there telling myself I was doing us both a favor by letting you go, but I was so damned hurt I could hardly