tried to catch her breath. Taj.
Flashes. Pictures. The happiest moments of her life flashed behind her eyes. Taj when sheâd met him for the first time, his warm smile. His attempt at wearing a cowboy hat and adapting to the Western style of horseback riding. And the evening theyâd spent in the main barn at her fatherâs ranch, the night sheâd fallen in love with him.
She fought hard against the pain that was threatening to overwhelm her. So much of her life, of what had happened in the past three years, was tied to Taj. All of it, really. Because without Taj, without her fatherâs deception, she never would have run away from Texas. Never would have ended up in Italy, taking care of Princess Carlottaâs son, Luca.
Without Taj, she would never have known what it felt like to love someone, and find out how much it hurt when they didnât love you back.
A muttered curse in Arabic brought her head up, and her gaze collided with Tajâs coal colored eyes. He looked the same. Dark and commanding. His black hair cropped short, no sign of the slight curl at his neck that sheâd loved to twirl around her fingers.
It was the same Taj, yet different somehow. Leaner. Harder.
The impact he had on her hadnât changed, either. Her heart was pounding, her body shaking, a surge of adrenaline making her blood run hotter, faster.
He was the man who haunted her dreams. The reason she woke up in a cold sweat, aching and unsatisfied. The reason no man had appealed to her in the least since sheâd left home.
He exhaled a breath and for the first time since spotting him from the balcony, she drew breath in.
âIt is you.â He sounded like a man addressing a ghost. He looked about like that, too.
She tried to smile. âAnd itâs you.â
âI was invited to help celebrate this occasion. What escapes me is why youâre here. No one has heard from you in three years.â
âHow do youâ¦how do you know that?â
âI keep in touch,â he said, his voice cold as stone and just as hard.
She bet he did. Her father had one of the things that Sheikh Taj prized above all else. Oil. Their money was slick with it, and they had been ready to make an alliance. She imagined they had made it, even without her as the glue to hold it together.
Without her as the sacrificial virgin.
âYou and my father always did have a lot in common,â she said, her tone sharp and lofty. Rich, considering she was standing in front of him in jeans and a ratty ponytail while he was in a custom made suit.
âNot as much as you might think,â he said.
âI donât have time to wonder what that means. I have to get back.â
âTo?â
âLuca. Heâs asleep heâ¦â
âYou have a lover with you?â he asked, his voice going cold.
She laughed in spite of the situation. âLuca is a child.â
He jerked back as though sheâd hit him. âYour child?â
âPrincess Carlottaâs child. Iâm his nanny.â
A muscle in his jaw jumped. âYou traded your life, your future, as my queen to be a nanny?â
âNo. I traded being your queen for some self-respect.â
She turned and walked away from him, her entire body shaking, regret threatening to climb up from her chest and strangle her.
Chapter Two
She closed the door to her room behind her and leaned against the doorway. Sheâd lied to escape from him, but hey, who could blame her?
Luca was sleeping in his own room, and he didnât require her care at night. That was one reason sheâd felt confident enough to sneak down to the engagement party. To catch a glimpse of the life she no longer lived. Glittering royals, an undercurrent of drama beneath the smooth, refined setting. It was all so familiar.
That had been her three years ago, down among the people with her formal gown and fake smile. An heiress with a comfortable, wealthy life
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