Lost in a Royal Kiss by Vanessa Kelly Page A

to mend the breach between them. On the rare occasions when their paths crossed, Linnet made a point of avoiding him. Once, they’d come into a palace corridor at the same time from opposite directions. She’d jerked to a halt, and then turned on her heel and marched back the way she’d come. That had stunned the hell out of him, and only by clamping down hard on his temper had Anthony kept himself from storming after her, demanding an explanation for her behavior.
    One thing was clear after all these weeks—he needed a new strategy. It was obvious he’d made a muddle of things, and he’d better come up with a way to fix it.
    He rose from his desk, taking his brandy and wandering over to the fireplace, brooding as he stared down into the empty grate. Not everything had gone awry that fateful night. Their lovemaking had been spectacular. Linnet’s soft body writhing against his as he sank deep into her—that memory had disturbed his sleep every night since. She’d responded to him with such a sweet, innocent passion, giving him everything he asked for and more. Anthony hadn’t doubted for a moment that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
    Until, that is, he’d outlined his immediate plans for their future. He’d made a hash of that, and at a time when she was bound to be emotional. He should have been gentler with her, but he’d been caught off guard by her reluctance to commit to anything, much less a firm date for their marriage. That had brought his possessive instincts charging up, and he’d been hell-bent on bending her to his will. A mistake he sincerely regretted.
    So he’d left her alone, trying to respect her sensibilities and convinced that her superior good sense would bring her around. And even though he’d handled the situation like a great oaf—he still winced whenever he recalled her phrasing—Linnet needed to understand that she could not dictate to him. Leaving her alone had been partly his way of communicating that. He would not go running after her, or allow her to turn his already-complicated life inside out. Anthony accepted that she was a strong-willed, determined person, and he appreciated those qualities in her. But she could not command him or defy him. On that point, they needed a clear understanding.
    Downing the rest of his brandy in one swallow, he set down his glass and headed for the door. He’d get no more work completed tonight, so he might as well try for some sleep.
    He was about to climb the stairs when a sharp rapping sounded on the front door. He paused, frowning. Could it be one of his agents? He doubted it, because they would never raise such a commotion.
    The door to the kitchen swung open and Carter, still fully garbed, came rushing out. Anthony waved him back as he retrieved a pistol from the sideboard before crossing to the door. As he unlocked it, his impatient visitor began pounding again.
    When he opened it, Linnet practically pitched into his arms. She stumbled over the step, and Anthony barely managed to catch her while keeping the pistol out of harm’s way.
    “Good God, Linnet,” he growled, handing the weapon to Carter. “Are you hurt?”
    A jumble of words poured out of her mouth as he drew her into the hall. It took him a moment to realize that she was clutching the lapels of his coat, and that her hands were shaking. Her whole body, in fact, trembled.
    “Hush, my dear,” he said, gently interrupting her flow of words. “Come into my study and you can explain everything to me.”
    He started to lead her across the hall and then stopped. “How did you get here?”
    “I had one of the coachmen from the palace stables drive me here,” she said in a breathless voice.
    Anthony jerked his head at Carter. “Take care of it.” He gently towed Linnet toward his study, pausing only to retrieve the pistol from Carter and stow it back in the sideboard.
    “Who were you expecting?” she asked as she watched him put it away.
    He glanced down at her, but