Rationally there was nothing dangerous about the photo that Luke had just snapped of the flushed-face Rhiane. By all appearances he had only taken it for his own amusement and nothing more; however, if he did release it to the public in some devious plan it would not negatively impact her image. If anything it would only boost the perception that the strong farmer was relatable, that she had weaknesses that were endearing rather than compromising, and that she was truly an empathetic voice to the masses. Frustrated as she was it could even convince a non-believer that there was a genuine blossoming romance between the crown prince and his fiance. The brunette was humiliated, however benign the portrait might be to her reputation, and continued to backpedal from the swaggering royal.

"No one has told me that, no, because it isn't true," she protested. From both the tenor of her voice and her body language he could discern she was skeptical about his sincerity, though it did succeed in keeping her face a brilliant shade of pink. With all the men and women at the engagement ball she had been certain of their deception. Rhiane had no illusions about what they really felt about her. Luke, however, had sent her enough mixed messages that she was not able to completely write off the possibility he felt a level of attraction that would make her uneasy. Unlike her he had dalliances with the other sex that were more than just physical flings. The most unflattering tabloids had conceded that the prince was not a stranger to romance beyond one night stands.

"This is a business arrangement," she pointed out as she found herself against a wall. Cursing under her breath she slid along it as he advanced slowly. Had she had a better understanding of the floor plan for the palace she might have been more tempted to bolt in a direction, but her ignorance meant doing so could land her in a worse place, and she wanted an audience to her embarrassment less than she wanted to be alone with her fiance. "You are perfectly capable of keeping your personal and professional separate," she continued, "and that's what we agreed we both wanted."

After a second of flailing verbally she decided there was a better strategy: to try to provoke his anger by appealing to his pride. Given the temper she had seen earlier it had a better chance of success than using logic alone. Reluctant as she was to incite his rage she was absolutely desperate not to have him flirt with her; some buried part of her psyche had convinced her that the prospect of love was infinitely more terrifying than a rage-induced tirade from the monarch's eldest child. "You can't possibly think highly of someone born on a remote farm in the middle of nowhere. You could have your choice of the nobility, probably had every woman in the capitol vying for your attention, and were engaged to me against your will. What about the woman that you spent last night with?"

It was a poor tactic if only because it was horribly transparent. Luke very likely had very little experience with any unwed female rejecting him even as minimally as Rhiane was now. To the upper echelons of society he possessed everything they valued: wealth, fame, proximity to the throne, a prestigious future, contacts all over the world, handsome features, intelligence, and athleticism. Only his personality was lacking and that was easily overlooked by anyone who didn't want an intimate relationship of mutual vulnerability. Either Luke would be incensed by her ploy or he would be able to push past and see what it was: Rhiane had large walls and was resistant to the notion of anything more than his 'work only' proposal of the morning.

With Luke possibly distracted she cut a wide berth towards the transport to his quarters. Maybe in the morning this would all be forgotten. Maybe he was fatigued enough that by morning he would have discarded the hazy memory of this hallway. Maybe if she could just get them both under the covers, sleeping separately, they could pretend this never happened.