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cup of coffee, ignoring that it was wet down one side. She couldn’t help fearing her earlier mistake with Avery Mason would emerge. It had been covered up, and all the key players had more reason to hide it than expose it, but it was still there, lurking like a venomous snake in the grass.

His firm hand gripped her calf through the blankets. “You have to let me help you, Amy.”

“Luca.” She jerked her leg away. “If you offer me that money one more time, you’re going to get a cup of hot coffee in the face. It will turn into a whole thing with your bodyguards, and I’ll wind up Tasered and rotting in jail. Not the best path to saving my reputation so leave it alone.”

He didn’t back off one iota. He found her leg again and gave it a squeeze. “Are you really prone to arson and violence?”

“No,” she admitted dourly. “But after my own parents left me fending for myself at eighteen, I’ve become hideously independent. The worst thing you could have done yesterday was leave me alone like this, helpless to solve my problem.”

“Because it’s not your problem,” he insisted. “That’s why I didn’t ask you to solve it.” He shifted so he was looking at the wall, elbows on his knees, hands linked between them. He sighed. “I didn’t see how much damage this would do to you. I want to help you fix it, Amy. Tell me what I can do.”

She sank heavily into the pillows. “If I had a clue how to fix it, I would have busted out of here and done it already.”

“Let me talk to your parents. I’ll take responsibility, patch things up.”

“Pass. There’s too much water under the bridge there...” Her nose stung with old tears she refused to shed. “And I don’t want someone to talk them into forgiving me. I want them to want to help me because they love me.” She was embarrassed that they didn’t and turned her mind from dwelling on that old anguish since it would never be resolved. “I’m more worried about London Connection. I might have to resign.”

“You’re not losing your career because you did your job,” he said forcefully.

“No one can know that, though, can they? To the outside world, I got involved with a client and caused him to lose his job. No one is going to hire the sordid one-night stand who caused a king to be overthrown. If I resign, London Connection can at least say they cleaned house in the same way that Vallia is dumping you.”

“That’s rubbish.” He rose again, all his virile energy crackling around him like a halo. “You’re not a martyr and you’re not a tramp. You’re not something that needs to be swept under a rug or out a door. The answer is obvious.”

“A tell-all to the highest bidder?” she suggested with a bat of her lashes.

“Pass,” he said with flat irony. “No. Once Sofia is clearly established as Vallia’s queen, you and I will take control of our narrative, as you like to say. We’ll reframe our affair as a more serious relationship.”

“You want to keep sleeping together?” Shock echoed within her strained words.

He wanted that so badly, he had to stand on the far side of the room so he wouldn’t crowd her or otherwise pressure her into it. “Appear to, at least. I understand if you’d prefer to keep things professional.”

“Because we’re so good at that.” Her chuckle was semihysterical.

He took perverse comfort from the helplessness in her choked laugh. He wasn’t the only one who felt this irresistible pull between them.

“I’m just saying, now that I fully grasp how our affair complicates things for you—”

The noise she made drew his glance.

“Do I not understand?” He narrowed his eyes, noting the flush that had come into her cheeks, the glow of disgrace in her eyes. “Is there more?”

She bit the corner of her mouth and dropped her gaze. “There are things in my past I only share on a need-to-know basis. Right now, you don’t need to know.”

She set aside the tray and flung back the blankets. She wore a silk nightgown that rode up her bare legs as she slid her feet to the floor.

“Don’t you have a throne to abdicate?” she asked.

He swallowed and forced his gaze upward to the suppressed turmoil in hers.

She was trying to throw him off with a glimpse of her legs and her air of nonchalance.

He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t falling for the diversion. Sexual awareness instantly throbbed like a drumbeat between them. His feet ambled him closer before he remembered he was trying to give her space.

“I do have a title to renounce,” he confirmed, gaze drawn to the way oyster-colored lace coyly pretended to hide her cleavage. It took everything in him to only caress her pale skin with his eyes. “Then I have a gala to attend. We do.”

“I’m not convinced our continuing to see one another is the best way forward.” Her head shake was more of an all-over tremble.

He closed his fists so he wouldn’t reach for her. “If you go scurrying home in disgrace, you really will be painted as the scarlet woman who toppled a kingdom. If you stick around and attend the gala where the new queen will speak to you, the whole thing will be reduced to a family squabble between my sister and I. You made arrangements to be here for two weeks, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“You don’t have to decide this instant. Let me finish my business, then we’ll talk more. Away from the palace,” he said. “We’ll shop for a gown for the gala. Do you prefer Paris or Milan for evening wear?”

“The Glam Shed,” she said haughtily, giving her hair a flick. “I quid pro quo promotion campaigns for red carpet rentals.”

“I’ll pretend that was a joke and make arrangements for Milan. It’s closer than Paris and I have a cottage in Northern Italy. We can

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