by Day Leclaire
She bowed her head. “I was a fool. I should have told him the truth the moment we met, explained why any sort of serious relationship between us was out of the question.” Looking up she offered a wistful smile, one that trembled around the edges. “Maybe some of you can understand how I felt. I wanted—just for a few hours—to believe in the fairy tale. To believe that I could find true love and live happily ever after. It was selfish and rash of me, not to mention unfair to Prince Lander. And for that I apologize to him, to you and to the people of Verdonia. I should have refused Prince Lander’s proposal right from the start. Because I didn’t, because I was self-indulgent, he’s in this mess and it’s all my fault.”
“You still haven’t told us your name,” someone called from the middle of the pack of reporters.
No she hadn’t. She drew a deep, calming breath and stared over the heads of the crowd, into the setting sun. “It’s Juliana Rose…Arnaud.” She twisted her hands together and the absence of Soul Mate made her feel as though part of her had been cut away. “Most of you know me as Ana Arnaud.”
All hell broke loose. The questions came fast and furious, one over top of another. She held up her hands. “Please. There’s nothing left to be said. Be assured that Prince Lander had no idea who I was when he announced our engagement. This was all my fault, one I’ve now corrected. Thank you for coming.”
She turned from the deafening shouts and escaped inside her apartment building, followed close behind by Joc. She’d done the right thing, even though it hurt more than she could have believed possible. The people of Verdonia needed Lander, a need far more urgent and vital than her own.
It was her fault they’d become engaged. Her fault that he felt honor bound to offer such an extreme solution to their predicament. And her fault that he stood to lose the election by insisting they marry. The only way he’d be the next king of Verdonia was if she released him from their engagement and ended their relationship. It struck her as the ultimate irony that his honor insisted he marry her, while hers insisted they part.
“It’s better this way,” she told her brother as they waited for the elevator.
“If this is better, then why are you crying?”
She lifted a hand to her cheek, surprised when her hand came away damp. How odd. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying. “They’re tears of joy for being out of this mess,” she lied.
“It’s interesting that your tears of joy look exactly the same as tears of misery. Why is that do you suppose?”
Her chin quivered. “When I figure it out, then we’ll both know.”
Lander faced the members of the press with calm determination. They all stood respectfully, waiting to hear what he had to say. No one shouted out comments or questions as they had with Juliana. The fact that they gave him the respect they refused to give her, annoyed the hell out of him. Not that he allowed his feelings to show.
“Thank you all for coming.” He hesitated before admitting, “It would seem I’m in need of your help.”
His opening statement was greeted with murmurs of surprise and a few encouraging smiles. So far, so good. “My fiancée, Juliana Arnaud, is under the mistaken impression that the people of Verdonia won’t accept her as my wife. I’d like to see what we can do to change that.”
“We?” one of the reporters asked.
“We Verdonians. You see, I believe she thinks her illegitimacy is an unacceptable stigma.” Lander gave a what-can-you-do sort of shrug. “I’ve assured her on numerous occasions that this isn’t true. That Verdonians judge people on their merits, not on their lineage. But she’s having trouble accepting that fact. She feels that should we marry, it’ll cost me the election.”
Another of the reporters raised his hand and Lander pointed to him. “Your Highness, you referred to Ms. Arnaud as your fiancée. Are you saying the engagement isn’t off?”
So, it was Ms. now, was it? That wasn’t what they’d called her when they’d been shouting questions the night before. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s not off. Ms. Arnaud has a different opinion.” Lander offered a smile that encouraged them to join him on his side of the dilemma—and once joined, to help. “I’d like to try and change her mind.”
“I don’t understand, Your Highness,” a man in front spoke up. “What do you expect the Verdonian citizens to do?”
“First, I’d like to introduce all of you to the Juliana Arnaud I know. A woman who’s kind and intelligent and compassionate, who puts honor before self-interest. If her press conference yesterday proved nothing else, it should have proved that she only wants the best for me and the people of this country.” He leaned forward, speaking earnestly. “Juliana is a woman who, at the tender age of eight, discovered her father was a crook masquerading as a respected businessman. Imagine discovering not only that, but that your father had two families, one legitimate, the other not. And then imagine spending the next thirteen years branded with that illegitimacy and judged by it—hounded by some—despite the fact that you’re the innocent byproduct of your parents’ affair.”
A woman in the middle of the pack raised her hand. “I don’t see that the circumstances of your fiancée’s birth have any importance. But other aspects of her background certainly do. According to my sources, she was suspected of helping her lover steal from her brother. That concerns me, as I’m sure it does most Verdonians. Any comment?”
He used silence to his advantage, waiting until it had stretched to the breaking point before responding. “First, Ms. Arnaud and the individual in question were never lovers.” He paused to add impact to his statement. “Secondly, she never helped this person, nor knew what he was up to until too late. She was thoroughly investigated and cleared by the authorities, but condemned by the jury of public opinion simply for being an Arnaud. The worst you can accuse her of was an unfortunate excess of naiveté. As soon as she discovered this man’s duplicity, she reported him and resigned her position as a point of honor.”
“Why is she in Verdonia?” questioned another reporter.
“I’m glad you asked.” He’d hoped someone would. “She works for Arnaud’s Angels, a charitable organization providing medical treatment to children in need. If you check, you’ll discover that Verdonia has benefited greatly from the generosity of Angels, and that’s largely thanks to Juliana.”
“What do you hope to gain by this press conference, Your Highness?” came the final question.
He answered with absolute sincerity. “This is the woman I want to marry. I’m hoping the people of Verdonia can do what I’ve failed to do. Let Juliana know how you feel. Let her know that you’d welcome her as your princess.” He held up Soul Mate, allowing the lights from the cameras to flicker off the brilliant amethyst. “I’d like all of you to help me put this ring back on her finger.”
Juliana yanked the door open. The minute she saw who stood there, she started hyperventilating. “You…I…” She flapped her hand toward her living room where the television was replaying Lander’s press conference for the umpteenth time that day. “What were you thinking?”
He strolled past her. “Oh, good. You’re watching it.”
She finally managed to wrap her tongue around the words clogging her brain. “Have you lost your mind?” she demanded. “Have you any idea what you’ve done with that little performance you staged?”
He lifted an eyebrow in a regal fashion. “If you’re going to speak to me like that, perhaps you should address me as Your Highness.”
“You think I’m being rude? Too bad! I had it all fixed. I protected your honor. I fell on my damned sword for you.” She pointed a shaking finger at the screen. “Why would you do…do that after all I went through to put an end to a bogus engagement?”
“Because I never considered it a bogus engagement, merely a premature one.” He approached, and she realized she’d caged herself with a lion, a lion in deadly pursuit. He backed her against the edge of her couch and pinned her there. “I didn’t want you to fall on your sword
for me, Juliana. There was no need. I had everything under control.”
He was too close, muddling her thoughts and rousing emotions she had no business feeling. Not anymore. “You consider that—” she gestured toward the television again “—under control?”
He tilted his head to one side. “What do you think is going to happen as a result of what I did?”
“I suspect everyone will erroneously believe we’re engaged again.”
A swift smile came and went. “Besides that.”
“You’ll lose the election,” she stated flatly.
The fierceness of his frown had her catching her breath. She didn’t know why, perhaps watching the respect and deference he’d garnered during his talk with the press had affected her in some strange way. But more than anytime since they’d first met, Lander struck her as every inch the royal. “I’m going to tell you this one final time, and then I’ll consider the topic closed. My relationship with you will not affect the outcome of this election. Are we clear?”
She nodded, wide-eyed.
“Topic finished?”
“Not quite,” she dared to say. “I have one final question.”
“One and only one.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Ask.”
“Why won’t it affect the outcome?”
“Because within the next couple of weeks all of Verdonia will fall in love with you. I guarantee it. What you watched today is just the beginning.”
She wanted to believe him. More than anything she hoped it was true. But she didn’t dare. She’d spent too many years hardening herself against the callous stares and objectionable assumptions people made about her. That sort of thing didn’t change overnight, not even by royal command. “How can you be so certain your people will accept me?” she asked.
His gaze held so much tenderness it brought tears to her eyes. “Because everything I said was true. You are kind and intelligent and compassionate. Most of all, you’re honorable. As soon as the country sees that for themselves, they’ll realize that not only do you belong here, but we need you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, which was just as well since her throat had closed over. Taking her hand in his, he slipped Soul Mate back onto her finger. She started to stammer out a protest, one he stopped with a simple shake of his head.
“Don’t refuse it. Not yet. Listen to me first.”
“This is insane, Lander. We don’t know each other all that well. It’s happening too fast.” The excuses flooded from her in a nervous rush, the one that concerned her the most, coming last. “You can’t want to marry me.”
“You’re wrong. I do want to marry you. And I think you want to marry me, too.” He gathered her up, fitting her into his embrace. They locked together as though they were missing puzzle pieces, finally made whole. His hand swept across her cheek in a light caress before his fingers forked into her curls and he tilted her face up to his. “There’s no hurry, Juliana. We don’t need to get married tomorrow or next week, or even next month. Wear the ring. If you decide our relationship is a mistake, you can always return it. In the meantime, we’ll take it slow and easy.”
She moistened her lips, afraid to believe. Afraid to trust or hope. Those qualities had been lost to her so long ago, she barely remembered possessing them. “Why don’t we take it slow and easy, and then decide whether or not that ring belongs on my finger?”
He shook his head. “Everyone will be looking to see if you’re wearing it. So, it’s all or nothing, sweetheart. Right here and right now we either make a commitment or call it quits and go our separate ways. Your choice.”
“But—”
“That’s my offer. I refuse to go back and forth with the media playing ‘is she or isn’t she.’” He held her with a demanding gaze, his eyes an intense greenish gold. “Take a chance, Juliana. Trust me.”
Oh, God. Trust. He would use that particular word. She leaned into him, closing her eyes against the urge to throw caution to the winds and give in to sweet temptation. “What happens if it doesn’t work out?”
“You walk away, and I let you.” She opened her eyes to discover the hard lines bracketing his mouth had softened. “I’m hoping you won’t walk, because I’m not sure I can keep my side of that particular deal if you do.”
His admission filled her with joy, a joy she forced herself to curb. She had another concern that might end everything before it ever began. “There’s something else I need to know. Not about the election,” she hastened to add.
“Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like your next question?”
“Maybe because it has to do with Joc.”
“Ah.” His voice soured. “That might be it.”
She caught her lip between her teeth. “You two don’t like each other, do you?”
Lander shrugged. “We’ve had our differences.”
“Then…what’s he doing here in Verdonia? If you’re not friends, why is he here?”
Lander’s face lost all expression, filling her with apprehension. “I assume he came here to see you.”
Not a chance. Joc adored her, she’d never doubted that. But he adored business more. If he’d come all this way, there was more drawing him to Verdonia than trying to talk her into resuming her old job at corporate headquarters. Her brother was a strong believer in the adage, “killing two birds with one stone.” “Tell me, Lander. Do the two of you have some sort of business deal in the works?”
He shook his head. “You should ask your brother about that.”
Her heart sank. “I’ll take that as a yes. When he danced with me at the ball, he…he warned me about you. He warned me to stay away from you.” She grimaced. “Now that I think about it, he pretty much warned me to stay away from you every time I saw him.”
A smile of satisfaction eased the grimness from Lander’s expression. “You didn’t take his advice.”
“No, I didn’t.” She gripped his arm, the amethyst on her ring glittering with red-blue fire. “I need you to tell me the truth. If we continue our relationship, will it hurt your business deal with him?”
He stared at her for an endless moment, his jaw tightening with growing tension. His eyes had darkened with some emotion she couldn’t quite decipher, but it worried her. “Throwing yourself on your sword again?” When she stared at him in open dismay, he relented. “It hasn’t and it won’t.”
Juliana couldn’t disguise her relief. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
His reply was so short and abrupt she wondered if she’d offended him again. But then he lowered his head and kissed her, putting an end to any further discussion, and she realized that he was far from offended. She tumbled back onto the couch with him and lost herself in his embrace. Somehow it would all work out. Somehow the people of Verdonia would accept her, maybe even love her. They had to.
Because she’d just realized that she was madly in love with their future king. And, though he hadn’t said he loved her, too—the only dark cloud on the horizon—for the first time in years, she’d begun to trust again.
Lander flipped open his cell phone and placed a call. “It’s done,” he announced as soon as Joc answered.
“She’s wearing your ring again?”
“That’s what ‘done’ means, Arnaud,” Lander snapped. He fought for control, fought even harder to keep his voice pitched low, though his intensity still came ripping through. “If your plan backfires, if she’s hurt because of this, I will find a way to make you pay.”
“You make sure she doesn’t find out about our contract and she won’t get hurt.”
“This is wrong, Arnaud.”
There was a momentary silence that Lander took for agreement. “I want her happy,” Joc said gruffly. “For some reason, you make her happy. Since you’re what she wants, you’re what she gets. As for the contracts, they should be ready to sign by the end of the month. We don’t sign until you two are married, so I suggest you keep things moving at your end.”
“Take all the time you want…so long as it doesn’t go past the end of the month. Juliana’s not stupid. You take too long sealing the deal and she’ll figure out what we’re up to. Get her to the altar and fast.”
Lander snapped the cell phone shut, wanting nothing more than to hurl it at the nearest wall. So much for honor. He didn’t know who he was more disgusted with, Joc or himself. The only part in all this that brought him any pleasure was Juliana. He didn’t know what to call what they had. Not love. He wasn’t the type to allow his heart to rule his head. But he wanted her. He cared about her. And he looked forward to having her for his wife. Whatever that was, it would have to do.
He could only hope it would prove enough for Juliana.
Eight
“Your Highness, please.” The dressmaker fluttered behind Lander as he entered the bedroom. “You can’t be here. It’s bad luck to see the bride in her wedding dress before the ceremony.”
“Of course I can see her, Peri. My palace, my rules.”
Across the room sheer pandemonium broke out. He grinned as Peri’s assistants fell over each other to hold up lengths of fabric in an effort to hide Juliana from his view. From behind the makeshift barrier, he heard a crash, followed by a muffled oath, the sound of ripping silk and another louder curse. Then, “Damn it, Lander! What the hell are you doing here?”
