Rocking back on his heels, he studied her blandly. “Just part of the job, Your Highness?”

Annoyance flickered in her eyes. “I don’t care how you look at it.”

“Maybe I do.”

“Do you find me unattractive?”

He saw the way her lip thrust forward so slightly in a pout as she asked. She seemed a woman accustomed to flowery, imaginative compliments. She wouldn’t get them from him. “Not unattractive.”

She wondered why it sounded almost like an insult. “Well, then, do you have a woman you’re committed to? Would you feel dishonest if you kissed me?”

He made no move toward her, and the bland smile remained. “I’ve no commitments, Your Highness.”

“Why are you calling me that now?” she demanded. “Is it only to annoy me?”

“Yes.”

She started to become angry, then ended up laughing. “It works.”

“It’s late.” He took her hand in a friendly manner. “Let me take you up.”

“You don’t find me unattractive.” She strolled along with him, but at her own pace. “You have no allegiances. Why won’t you kiss me then and help? You did agree to help.”

He stopped and looked down at her. The top of her head came to his chin. With her chin tilted back, she looked eye to eye with him. “I told your father I’d keep you out of trouble.”

“You told me you’d help me find out who I am. But perhaps your word means nothing,” she said lightly. “Or perhaps you’re a man who doesn’t enjoy kissing a woman.”

She’d taken only two steps, when he caught her arm. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

She smiled. “Apparently.”

He nodded, then held her close in his arms. “Neither do I.”

He touched his lips to hers with every intention of keeping the kiss dispassionate, neutral. Though he understood her reasons, her needs, he also understood she’d goaded him into doing something he was better off avoiding. Hadn’t he wondered what that soft, curving mouth would taste like? Hadn’t he imagined how that slim, fragile body would feel in his arms? But he’d agreed to do a job. He’d never taken any job lightly.

So he touched his lips to hers, intending on keeping the kiss neutral. Neutrality lasted no more than an instant.

She was soft, frail, sweet. He had to protect her. She was warm, tempting, arousing. He had to take her. Her eyes were open, just. He could see the glimmer of gold through the thick lashes as he slid his hand up to cup her neck. And he could feel, as the kiss deepened beyond intention, her unhesitating, unapologetic response.

Their tongues met, skimmed, then lingered, drawing out flavors. She wound her arms invitingly around him so that her body pressed without restriction to his. The scent she wore was darker than the sky, deeper than the mixed fragrance of night blossoms that rose from the gardens below. Moonlight splashed over him and onto her. He could almost believe in fairy tales again.