“Release you?” He watched her carefully as he paused and considered her request, and saw the flash of hope that sprang into her gaze. “I think not. I’m not finished with you yet.”
“Not finished?” she all but spluttered. “You never even started.”
“Ah yes, and there is the problem, Ms. Romolo. You have invoiced me for your time here. I imagine that has been calculated at your usual rate?”
She inclined her head with consummate grace and elegance.
“Then you would agree, wouldn’t you,” he continued smoothly, “that I am owed a discount for lack of services rendered.”
He stepped back and watched the unguarded flurry of emotion that caught her enchanting features. She composed herself quickly and drew in a shaky breath.
“Does Your Majesty wish to avail himself of my services?” she asked.
If she had asked him five minutes ago, he would have given her an emphatic no in response. This woman had caused him no end of trouble. If she had not accepted a contract to serve as temporary courtesan to King Thierry of Sylvain, both Rocco’s kingdom and Thierry’s could have been spared an endless amount of trouble.
Thierry had been, for several years prior, betrothed to Rocco’s sister, Mila, in an arranged marriage. Discovering her betrothed’s plans to avail himself of a courtesan had driven Mila to the reckless step of trading places with Ms. Romolo, so she could ensure her husband-to-be would take no lover other than herself. Her plan had worked—at first. But when he’d discovered her deception, Thierry had been incensed—and when the news had, somehow, leaked to the press, making them into a media spectacle, Thierry had called off the engagement entirely. It had taken a disastrous event to reunite Mila and Thierry...but finally they had reconciled and wed, and were now blissfully happy. It had all worked out in the end.
That didn’t make him any happier with Ottavia Romolo, though, without whom all of this could have been avoided. So no, he had never truly considered availing himself of any of her considerable charms. He’d been too busy wishing that she’d take herself to another country entirely and let them deal with the chaos she brought in her wake.
But now, with his senses tingling and his mind intrigued, he found himself considering a far more affirmative response.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he answered.
“Nor have I offered,” she countered.
Oh, she was good—valiantly holding on to her pride and dignity even while the threads of control of this situation escaped those long slender fingers. Heat burned low in his groin at the challenge she presented—and the temptation. His response to her both irritated and stimulated him. Much like the woman herself.
“You are mistaken if you think you have a choice, Ms. Romolo.”
She lifted her chin defiantly. “I always have a choice. I am glad you have destroyed my initial invoice,” she continued with a smile.
Rocco was surprised. Of all the things she could have said, he hadn’t expected that.
“I’m pleased to hear it,” he said. “But why?”
“Because, Sire, my price has gone up.”