And she had the troupe. It was more than an ambition—it was a purpose. She’d watched friends marry and divorce and marry again, or simply drift from one affair to the next. Too often the reason was simple boredom. She’d never had to worry about that. Running the company would take up twenty-four hours a day if she allowed it. At times it came close, whether she wanted it to or not. If she was attracted to a man, her business and her own caution kept things from getting too serious. So she hadn’t made a mistake. Yet. She didn’t intend to.

Eve picked up her perfume and sprayed it over her bare shoulders before she left the room.

With luck Bennett would be back and lounging in the parlor. Dinner wouldn’t be dull with him around, nor would it be strained for very long. He added spark and enjoyment simply by being. She wasn’t in love with him, but she loved him for that.

As she walked downstairs she trailed her fingers along the smooth banister. So many fingers had trailed there before. When she was inside the palace, she thought of it only as a place, a sturdy, eternal place. If she understood little about Alexander, she understood his pride.

But when she stepped into the parlor and found him there alone, she tensed. Stopping in the doorway, she scanned the room for Bennett.

Good God, she was beautiful. When Alexander turned, it hit him like a blow. It had nothing to do with the silk, with the jewels. She could have dressed in burlap and still stunned the senses. Dark, sultry, just edging over to hot, there was something primitive, something uncomfortably natural about her sexuality that made a man ache just looking. It had been part of her since she had been hardly more than a child. Alexander decided she’d been born with it and cursed her for it.

His body tightened, his face settled into cool lines, as he saw her gaze sweep the room. He knew she was looking for, hoping for, Bennett.

“My brother’s been detained.” He stood with his back to a scrubbed hearth. The dark dinner jacket both suited and restrained him. “We dine alone this evening.”

Eve stood where she was, as though stepping forward were a commitment she was far from ready to make. “There’s no need to trouble for me, Your Highness. I can easily have dinner in my room if you’d like to make other plans.”

“You’re my guest. My plans are to dine with you.” He turned away to pour drinks. “Come in, Eve. I promise you, I won’t wrestle with you on the floor.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” she said just as politely. Crossing to him, she held her hand out for the drink. “And we weren’t wrestling. I threw him.”