Princess from the Shadows Maisey Yates by Maisey Yates Page B

though she were dirty, something almost beneath contempt at times.
    To have someone simply not see that dark mark on her record … that was something she hadn’t thought possible.
    It had altered her own parents’ perception of her so profoundly she’d assumed everyone must look at her and see a big scarlet A branded across her chest, even without knowing the full story.
    He pushed open the door to her room and stood there, allowing her to enter first. Rodriguez had that smooth, surface chivalry down to a science. It probably made women melt at his feet. If his dark good looks, hot body and wicked grin hadn’t already done the job.
    “I went out today and I was driving through downtown when I saw this.” He took a garment bag out of her closet. “And it made me think of you.”
    “Did you go through my things?”
    “No, I asked one of the household staff to put it in the closet.”
    “Oh.”
    “You don’t like it when people go through your belongings?”
    “Would you?”
    “I don’t know. I live alone so I don’t have that problem.” His eyes locked with hers. “I did live alone anyway.”
    “Now you have us.”
    “And servants. You can never be truly alone in a castle. Even if all of the staff left there would still be ghosts wandering the old dungeon.”
    “You have a dungeon here?”
    He smiled. “You interested?”
    A reluctant laugh pulled up from her stomach. “Not really my thing.” She took the garment bag from his hand. “You should be used to staff. You lived here when you were a boy.”
    “Until I was old enough to go to school. When I was eight I went to boarding school.”
    “That’s so young! I could never send Luca away. Not in three years’ time. I don’t think I ever could.”
    He looked at her, his eyes blank, that darkness that lay beneath the surface a palpable force. “I liked school.”
    “Good.” She unzipped the back and her mouth dropped when she saw the black lace dress that was nestled inside. “This is … there’s not much to it.”
    “It will look perfect on you.”
    “I don’t flaunt. I’m a mother.”
    “You are a woman,” he said, his voice firm, insistent. “Don’t forget that. Whether you’re Luca’s mother, my wife or the Queen of Santa Christobel, you are a woman and there’s no crime in remembering that.”
    “I. I know that. I remember. How could I forget?” Of course, for her, being a woman was basically a crime. She didn’t know what to do with that part of herself. The part that wanted occasions to dress for. The part that wanted a man in her bed. It was easier to simply be Luca’s mother and ignore everything else.
    “You dress nicely,” Rodriguez said. “But not sexy.”
    She frowned. “I thought my press conference dress was sexy.”
    “No, you were sexy in it. It would only be considered sexy at a tea party.”
    She looked him over, at his black pants and shirt, so lovingly fitted to his body, making him look dangerous and attractive. “Well, you dress like you’re on the prowl.”
    “I generally am,” he said, offering her a crooked smile. “Now go try the dress on.”
    She shot him a deadly glare and folded the bag over her arm, heading for the dressing room that was just off the main portion of the bedroom. She got out of her beach clothes and tugged the flimsy dress up over her curves.
    She contorted her arm and tugged the zipper midway up her back, unable to finesse it all the way up. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. So, she’d ask him for help. He was going to see her naked after the wedding anyway. And this wasn’t even naked, this was just a partially exposed back. A bathing suit, even a modest one, would show much more than the dress put on display.
    But it wasn’t so much about the amount of skin as it was about what Rodriguez made her feel.
    Well, she wasn’t giving him that power. She owned her body, and she wasn’t a slave to errant desires.
    She opened the door and poked her head out. “Can you