The Royal Treatment

She looked past him, toward the castle doors and across the grounds, before shifting her gaze back to his. He could see the wheels turning in her brain and knew that she was far from finished with this. He’d never met a more hardheaded woman. Strange to think now that that was one of the first things he’d liked about her.

“So this means war?” she asked, and he recognized the tone. Whenever Jade got scared or felt pushed into a corner, she went stiff and snotty.

“If that’s the way you want it,” he said. Jeremy hid a smile of appreciation as he watched her fight down a wave of anger that was clearly clawing at her throat. But he had to give her credit. After a few seconds, she’d managed it. She hadn’t always been able to put a lid on that temper. He still had the scar on his forehead from when she’d pitched a plate at him.

On their honeymoon, no less.

But along with that scar, he also had the memory of how they’d spent hours making up. It had been well worth that little scar.

Taking a deep breath, she said, “You need to put someone else on this gate. Your little soldier there is a moron.”

One dark eyebrow lifted as the desire crouched inside him eased back a bit. “Is he?”

“He refused to let me inside,” she snapped. “Refused to even answer my questions.”

“Well then,” Jeremy told her, “the lieutenant is clearly as bright as I’d thought him to be.”

She sighed, tapped her shoe a little harder, then put both hands on those deliciously curved hips.

Jeremy chuckled, folded his arms across his chest and planted his feet wide apart. Comfortable in his fighting stance, he said, “You might as well go, Jade. You’re not getting in.”

“You know,” she said, giving him a thoughtful, up and down look, “you really should work on your people skills, J.T. They never were your strong point.”

“Oh, that’s good, coming from you. Judging by the conversation you were having with Lieutenant Gimble, you’re in no position to give lectures on winning friends and influencing people yourself.”

She inhaled sharply and blew the air out in a rush. “All right, I’m sorry about that. I haven’t lost my temper in a long time.”

He fingered that old scar just above his eyebrow. “That’s a shame. Fury does great things for your eyes.”

She flicked him a warning look, but Jeremy knew those gates were strong enough to hold off a tank, so they’d probably be able to protect him from a single reporter.

Even Jade.

“Besides, my people skills are fine, babe,” he assured her. “It’s my ‘reporter’ skills you seem to be having trouble with. And frankly, if you don’t like ’em, then I must be doing something right.”

“As charming as ever, I see,” Jade retorted.

“You used to think I was pretty damn charming.”

“I used to believe in Santa Claus, too,” Jade said tightly. “Then I grew up.”

Frustration simmered just below the anger surging inside her. Out of all the men on this little island, why did it have to be her ex-husband standing between her and her goal?

She stared up—way up—into J.T.’s hard brown eyes and didn’t see a glimmer of hope there. She did, however, feel that slow, sweet surge of want rise up inside her again. From the moment she’d locked eyes with him, she’d felt it. A heady rush of pulse-pounding desire that was so thick it nearly choked her. And she sensed he’d felt it, too.

It was as if the last three years hadn’t happened. Three long years of not seeing him, not hearing his voice, not feeling his touch, and one look from him and she was going up like a skyrocket.

“Jade?” Her cameraman’s voice cut into her thoughts and she sent the tall, thin, older man a quick look. “I’m heading back to the van.”

She nodded, and thought she caught a wisp of a satisfied smirk on J.T.’s face. Irritating, frustrating, completely sexy man.

Once Harry had moved off, she switched her attention back to the wall of muscle that stood between she and her destiny. She’d tried being nice. She’d tried being commanding. Nothing had worked.

“Look,” she said, trying yet again, and this time using her patented let’s-be-friends tone of voice, “there’s no reason we can’t come to a meeting of the minds.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. She thought. It was there and gone so fast she couldn’t really be sure. Still, she latched on to that one small hope and kept talking in the same, gentle tone. “We’re adults. We’re professionals. Surely there’s a way we can solve this…difficulty.”

He snorted and unfolded his arms, giving her a lovely view of a chest broad enough to star in dozens of female fantasies. As she knew all too well. “You’re really something,” he said, his gaze running up and down her body quickly and yet so thoroughly it was almost as if he’d touched her.

She squirmed a bit against the flash of heat that briefly dazzled her bloodstream, but held her ground. She hadn’t been intimidated into leaving. She certainly wouldn’t be aroused into leaving.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Wasn’t a compliment.”

She inhaled sharply, deeply, then dug her manicured nails into her palms as she fisted her hands.

“Jade,” he continued, before she could think of something suitably witty to say, “I’ve told you every day, you’re not getting in here. So why don’t you do us both a favor and go away?”

“I’m just trying to do my job,” she repeated.

“So am I.”

“Fine.” She could be generous. Find some common ground. “I understand that.”

“See,” he said, planting his hands on his hips, “I don’t think you do.”

“Your job is to protect the royal family. But I’m not a threat.”

“Not every threat is a physical one.”

Jade felt the pulse of anger quicken inside her. “I only want to do an interview with my queen.”

“And my queen,” he countered, “isn’t interested.”

“She can’t stay hidden away forever.”

“She’s the queen. She can pretty much do what she wants.”

“This isn’t the Middle Ages, you know,” Jade snapped, giving in to the fury goading her into a fight with the bane of her existence. “We aren’t simple crofters huddled around campfires.”

“Too bad,” J.T. said. “As I recall, you look pretty good by firelight.” Motioning to Lieutenant Gimble to come closer, he said, “Good seeing you again, Jade.”

“This isn’t over, J.T.”

“Sure it is.” Then he flicked her a quick glance. “You’ve still got great legs, babe.”

“You can’t walk away from me like—” She broke off. Pointless to keep arguing when the man whose neck you wanted to wring was already striding away from you.