Again and again he challenged his opponent. Swords crossed; metal slid whistling down metal. Then with two subtle movements of his wrist, Alexander was past the guard, pressing the safety button lightly to his partner’s heart.

“Well done, sir.” The defeated drew off his face mask. Eve saw immediately that the man was older than she had thought and vaguely familiar. He had a rakish face and an interesting one, lined at the eyes, shadowed with dark hair over the lip. His eyes were a pale, pale gray and met Eve’s over Alexander’s shoulder. “We have an audience, Your Highness.”

Alexander turned and through the wire mesh saw Eve standing rigidly inside the door. He saw the temper, glowing in her eyes, stiffening her shoulders. Curious, he lifted the mask. Now his eyes, dark, still lit with the excitement of victory, met hers without obstruction. He saw, mixed with the temper, heightened because of it, the passion. The need. The desire.

Slowly, his gaze still locked on hers, he tucked the mask under his arm. “Thank you for the match, Jermaine.”

“My pleasure, Your Highness.” Under the mustache, Jermaine’s lips curved. He was French by blood and had no trouble recognizing passion when he saw it. He would forgo his usual after-the-match wine with his friend and pupil. “Until next week.”

“Yes.” It was only a murmur. Alexander’s eyes had yet to leave Eve’s face.

Smothering a grin, Jermaine replaced his épée and mask on the rack before moving to the door. “Bon soir, mademoiselle.”

“Bon soir.” Eve moistened her lips on the words and listened to the door click shut behind her. Folding her hands primly, she inclined her head. “You have excellent form, Your Highness.”

The softly spoken words didn’t fool him for a moment. She was mad as a hornet and already aroused despite herself. But the words snapped his own tension. With a cocky grin, he lifted his sword in salute. “I can return the compliment, mademoiselle.”

She accepted this with another slow nod. “But compliments aren’t the reason I’m here.”

“I thought not.”

“I ran into Bennett.” She would hold her temper, Eve promised herself. She would strangle it down and defeat him with cool, carefully chosen words. “Apparently you and he had a discussion.” She moved farther into the room, strolling to the rack of fencing gear. “A discussion concerning me.”

“A discussion that wouldn’t have been necessary if you had been honest with me.”

“Honest?” The word nearly choked her. “I’ve never lied. I have no reason to lie.”

“You allowed me to believe, and in believing suffer, that you and my brother were lovers.”