The Forbidden Prince by Alison Roberts

somewhere to stay. I’ll need money for that, too.’
    â€˜But you’ve got somewhere to stay.’ Mika seemed to have gone very still, her hand touching the rack of tee shirts on the footpath. ‘If you don’t mind the couch.’
    Raoul blinked. ‘You want me to stay?’
    â€˜I know it’s not ideal but it’s only for sleeping, and you’re only here for a few weeks. I’m either at work or out exploring for the rest of the time. I’m happy to share if you are.’
    She was making it sound as if it was fine if he liked the idea but she wouldn’t be at all bothered if he decided otherwise. Her attention seemed to be on the shirts as she began to ruffle through them. Her tone and body language didn’t quite fit with the flash of something he’d seen in her eyes, though. It wasn’t any kind of come-on—she’d made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship—but there was something that made him think she would like him to agree to the plan a lot more than she was letting on.
    Was Mika lonely ...?
    Part of him was more than a bit horrified by the idea of continuing to live in one room and share a bathroom with who knew how many other people, but was it because he was spoiled and soft or was it more to do with always having to be over-vigilant as to what others might think? When you lived in the public eye you had to behave perfectly at all times because you never knew if you were under observation by a journalist or the paparazzi. For as long as he could remember, he’d never been able to be impulsive and just do what he happened to feel like doing. Or even let how he was feeling show on his face sometimes.
    But now he could. Nobody was watching. If his reluctance stemmed from the fact he was spoiled, it would do him good to toughen up. And if it was because of what others might think, well, there were no rules he had to follow other than his personal morality right now. What would happen if he really let his guard down?
    â€˜Maybe one more night? We can talk about it again tomorrow. Right now, I love your idea of a swim.’
    Mika nodded. ‘Stay here. Buy a tee shirt and maybe some shorts to swim in. Look, this might help...’ She put her hand in her pocket and when it came out she was holding a small handful of gold-rimmed silver coins. ‘I always put all my tips in the communal jar but...’ Her shrug made light of any residual guilt. ‘I thought we might have something to celebrate tonight.’
    â€˜No way.’ Raoul put his hand over Mika’s to close her fingers firmly around the coins. Such a small hand. He liked the way his could enclose it completely. ‘You earned that. You keep it.’ His voice was stern. ‘You’ve got to stop paying for things for me, okay? I’m beginning to feel like a gigolo.’
    Mika was smiling as she pulled her hand free and put the coins back in her pocket, but she avoided meeting his gaze, and Raoul gave himself a mental shake. Gigolos were rewarded for services that he had no intention of offering, and that would be the last thing Mika wanted anyway.
    â€˜I’ll be back in ten minutes.’ Mika was already walking away from him and it felt like a rebuke. Perhaps even a subtle reference to sex was dodgy territory that he needed to steer well clear of. ‘Happy shopping.’
    * * *
    A gigolo?
    With those looks and that charm, there would probably be any number of rich older woman who would be happy to have Rafe at their beck and call. While Mika knew that the comment had been no more than a joke, it had sexual connotations that had put her well out of her comfort zone.
    Had she turned into some kind of prude in the last few years?
    Or was it because it was Rafe who had said it and that was tapping into feelings she wasn’t sure how to deal with yet?
    And why had she been so quick to renew the offer of having him