by Heidi Rice
Surely her own parents’ marriage and the scandalous way it had collapsed was proof of that.
Her father, King Andreas, had made as much clear to Leo all those years ago, the summer he had been in Monrova on a trade mission, just after he had acceded to the throne of Severene. That was the summer the King’s unruly younger daughter had developed a crush on him, and Andreas had first suggested a marriage to Jade.
At the time, his older daughter and heir had only been sixteen though, and Leo had baulked at the suggestion. He was not a cradle snatcher.
And in truth, the younger twin was the only one of Andreas’s daughters he’d noticed that summer, probably because she had been so persistent in trying to get his attention.
But Leo still remembered the conversation he’d had with King Andreas the evening after the younger girl had tried to kiss him. He hadn’t mentioned the incident to her father, but he had wondered if the man had discovered the truth somehow, because he had made a point of warning Leo off any entanglement with Princess Juno. At the time, Leo had found the suggestion amusing.
But he could still remember Andreas’s candid words of warning because it had spoken volumes about the failure of the man’s marriage.
‘Juno is undisciplined and reckless and she always has been. She lacks the temperament for monarchy and since she has been living in New York I’m afraid she has become as much of a problem as her mother. Take it from me, Leonardo, pick your Queen with care and with a level head. Infatuation is never a good basis under which to make those crucial decisions. I speak from bitter experience.’
It was all Andreas had said on the subject that night, but Leo knew the story of his ill-fated marriage to Alice Monroe—the beautiful young actress Andreas had met at a UN reception in New York and then married less than a month later. Alice was a media darling and their whirlwind romance and fairy-tale wedding had captivated the press the world over. But not long after their twin daughters had arrived almost exactly nine months later, the cracks had begun to show.
By the time Andreas had finally divorced his Queen eight years later and sent her packing back to New York with their younger daughter, Alice’s increasingly scandalous behaviour had come close to bringing down the Monrovan monarchy, and Leo was not surprised the man had regretted that initial infatuation.
Jade, his heir, had been the only good thing to come from it.
‘Do you really believe that being royal means you don’t need to be loved?’ Jade asked, incredulous.
‘That’s not what I said,’ he murmured, even though it was what he believed. ‘But I do believe it can be an inconvenience that is better avoided.’
Her frown was replaced by something that looked disturbingly like pity. ‘I see,’ she said and looked away.
He stiffened, annoyed. Was it him she pitied? Why? Surely she of all people must know that love—or rather infatuation, for that was the emotion people often mistook for love—had no place in a royal marriage?
The sledge glided into the palace courtyard where a line of dignitaries and the palace’s two-hundred-strong household staff waited to greet their arrival.
A young footman in the palace livery approached and opened the sled door, then unfolded the step. Bowing his head as was customary, he raised his hand to help Jade alight.
Taking his offered assistance, she bounced down from the carriage. But then to Leo’s utter astonishment, she turned her attention on the young man.
‘Hi, and thank you,’ she said.
The footman blushed, glancing up from his bowed position, not used to being addressed directly.
‘Your Highness,’ the young man murmured, bowing so low Leo was surprised he didn’t topple over. ‘We are so honoured to have you in Severene.’
‘And I’m honoured to be here,’ she said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘It’s...’ The young man’s gaze connected with Leo’s, the flush on his cheeks turning scarlet.
Leo nodded as he climbed down from the carriage behind Jade, giving the boy permission to speak to the Queen.
‘It’s Klaus, Your Majesty,’ the footman said, looking completely nonplussed, but as he bowed again he shivered visibly.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Klaus,’ Jade murmured. ‘Can I ask you how long you’ve been standing out in the cold?’
‘About an hour, Your Majesty.’
‘You’re not serious, in that outfit?’
The boy nodded. And the Queen of Monrova turned, her gaze fierce as it connected with Leo’s.
‘Leo, this is ridiculous. Look what he’s wearing. He hasn’t even got proper gloves on,’ she said.
‘Yes, I see your point,’ he said. She was right. The staff uniforms, although ornate, were hardly substantial enough for sub-zero temperatures. But it was the passion flashing in her eyes that fascinated him. Even though it was a cliché he had never subscribed to, he had to admit the Queen was quite breathtaking when she was mad.
‘Who’s in charge here?’ she demanded.
‘I suppose that would be me,’ Leo said, even though strictly speaking it was the palace’s Head of Household, Pierre La Clerk, who would have made the decision to have the staff stand outside. But he preferred to have all her passion directed at him.
An urge so perverse he would have to examine it later.
‘Then don’t just stand there, Leo,’ she snapped. ‘We have to get these people indoors immediately.’
He should have been outraged, of course. No one spoke to him like that and no one gave him orders. But instead he was captivated. Her unconventional approach—and her passionate determination to protect the young man shivering in his uniform—making him realise what a formidable queen she would make him.
Nodding, he clicked his fingers. And called over his head of household as another thought occurred to him.
Would he even have noticed the boy’s discomfort? Highly unlikely, he realised. Ever since he could remember, state visitors were greeted in this way. Why had he never considered changing this arrangement before now?
Le Clerk approached with a stiff smile on his face—telegraphing his disapproval at the delay. Leo didn’t care. The man had made a mistake.
‘Your Majesty, if there is a problem with the—’ Pierre began.
‘Pierre, move the introductions indoors,’ Leo interrupted him. ‘Klaus here is freezing and no doubt so are the rest of the staff.’
‘But, Your Majesty, it is tradition for—’
‘Tradition be damned if it is going to give the staff frostbite.’
Pierre’s lips pursed, but he bowed low. ‘Absolutely, as Your Majesty wishes.’
Pierre, the palace butlers and the other senior staff members set about moving the welcoming committee indoors.
‘Come on, Klaus, I think you probably need a hot toddy,’ Jade murmured as she smiled at the young footman. ‘I know I do.’
Leo watched the boy smile back at her—the worship in his eyes unmistakeable.
To think he’d once thought her reserve and her dignity were her main assets as a wife and a queen. Her unconventional style of leadership—which he hadn’t even realised existed until last night at the ball—was surprisingly appealing.
The footman nodded, clearly shocked by the Queen’s familiarity—weren’t they all?
Leo placed his palm on the small of Jade’s back—the desire to touch her undeniable.
She shuddered beneath his touch as he guided her into the palace. The electric energy that had been so provocative the night before arched between them again.
Once they had repaired to the palace’s cathedral-like reception room, Leo whispered in her ear. ‘Can I have a private word, Your Majesty?’
She glanced at him—and he could see the wariness in her expression, but also the heat. The recollection of her mouth hot and eager on his fired through his system.
<
br /> His palm remained on the small of her back as he directed her towards his private study. Getting her alone again might not be the wisest plan, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to press his suit every chance he got.
Here it comes.
‘Why did you want to see me alone?’ Juno stepped away from Leo as soon as they entered his study, hating the defensiveness in her tone. And the strange sense of loss when he lifted his guiding hand from her back.
She’d been expecting the reprimand as soon as she had acted on instinct and demanded the introductions be moved indoors. But he’d lulled her into a false sense of security. To her astonishment Leo had agreed with her in public. Even gone so far as to make arrangements immediately with his staff. But she had seen his surprise at her actions. And that should have been a massive clue—that he was simply waiting for a more private moment to let her have it.
She waited for the axe to fall. But he simply stared at her, then said: ‘Why are you so defensive, Jade?’
Juno’s anxiety increased. A part of her knew she had to be more subservient—or he might figure out the truth about her identity. But another part of her knew she had not been wrong to protect his footman.
Surely Jade would have done the same, although probably more diplomatically. But the result would have been the same.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, seeing the inscrutable twist of his lips.
Was he trying to torture her, to make her more acquiescent? Was this some kind of regal power play? Or was he trying to soften the blow because he still wanted to persuade her to agree to the marriage.
The knot in her belly tightened.
Not knowing what the heck he was thinking only made this worse.
She should never have agreed to come. Because her clever plan—to persuade him she would make him a terrible queen by being herself—was already working... But she’d just discovered it had one massive flaw.
She knew who she was. Even if Leo didn’t.
So when she screwed up—either by accident or design—and Leo reprimanded her, it would be like dealing with her father all over again.
It would be a replay of all those shattering blows to her ego, and her heart, she had endured as a child, when he had looked at her with cold, disapproving eyes and told her—in actions as well as words—that she could never be royal, could never be as important as her sister, could never be worthy of his love. Dating right back to that day when she was sixteen and he had kicked her out of his life for good. She’d spent her life since that day convincing herself her father’s disapproval didn’t matter, that it could only hurt her if she let it matter. And now she was going to be forced to relive it. For seven days straight. When she was found wanting by a man whose opinion shouldn’t matter either... But somehow it did. And she didn’t even know why it did.
The anxiety began to strangle her. This whole situation was so super messed up.
Propping his butt against the desk, Leo folded his arms over his broad chest, his eyebrow lifting in challenge. ‘You know what I’m thinking? Why don’t you tell me what that is, then?’
Leo’s disapproval did not matter. She wasn’t trying to impress him. In fact the opposite was true, she was trying to persuade him she’d make him a terrible wife. And a disastrous queen.
But somehow that goal had got lost in the surge of longing that had swamped her when he had supported her decision in the courtyard. And she’d wanted to believe he really did think she’d done a good thing.
‘You’re going to tell me I shouldn’t have been so outspoken about Klaus,’ she said, because she just wanted the axe to fall now so she could deal with it. ‘I know you think I should have found another, more discreet way to suggest the introductions be done indoors. That there’s a right way and a wrong way to do these things and I chose the wrong way.’ How many times had her father told her the same? And okay, she got it, she was not a natural at this stuff. But she was right to have done what she did. If it meant no one froze to death just to observe protocol, so be it.
‘Klaus was freezing, Leo. And I refuse to apologise for making that call.’
‘I see,’ he said.
She braced herself for the tirade of indignation, the anger at her recklessness. The tedious lecture about her overstepping her authority and letting her emotions rule her judgement.
She should have seen this coming much sooner. Why hadn’t she? As soon as he had told her during their sledge ride he didn’t think emotional connections were necessary in a royal marriage, that... How had he put it? That...
‘Emotional self-sufficiency is an invaluable commodity in a monarch, wouldn’t you agree?’
She’d actually felt sorry for him at the time. Why would anyone believe something so sad? Sure, love could be messy and difficult and it didn’t always solve everything, in fact sometimes it solved nothing at all. She’d loved her mom and she knew, in her own screwed-up way, her mother had loved her. But that love had never been enough to stop Alice Monroe loving the bottle more...
But even with all its imperfections, love was still important. It could help and it could heal. Seeing Jade again and wanting to do this swap for her sister’s sake as well as her own had proved that much. And she refused to believe that anyone could survive without needing love.
Unless they were a man as cold and unfeeling as her father.
That had been her mistake. To feel sorry for Leo because she’d somehow convinced herself he wasn’t that guy. When actually he was.
After all, he wanted to marry her sister to give his country a political advantage and to have a shared heir. Any man who could even contemplate something so bloodless had to be seriously messed up—no matter how much her body might desire him.
‘You know, Jade,’ Leo said, tilting his head to one side now as if he were studying something particularly fascinating, ‘I really do not know what to make of you. And, much to my absolute astonishment, because I usually prefer predictability, I’m finding that aspect of you even more irresistible than the memory of what happened yesterday night.’
What?
Juno barely had a chance to register her shock before he had pushed off the desk, unfolded his arms and crossed the room.
She took another step back, but couldn’t control the swell of relief. Or was it longing? At the dark passion in his eyes.
He cupped her cheek, the soft brush of his palm making the tangle of raw nerves in her belly unwind in a rush.
‘You’re not angry with me?’ she heard herself say.
‘Angry? Not at all,’ he said, and the inscrutable smile became a genuine smile. Her heart expanded. ‘You did the right thing, Jade.’
The words seemed to reach inside and touch the heart of the child she’d been, all those years ago, when her father had chastised and rejected her.
‘You really think so?’ she said, immediately realising how needy she sounded when he gave a rough chuckle.
‘Yes, I’m not quite the bastard you seem to think I am,’ he said. ‘The boy was freezing and if we’d waited much longer he might well have become hypothermic. I hate to think what the press would have made of that. And how much it would have cost the palace if he had sued.’
He was making light of the incident. But even so she could hear the respect and admiration in his tone.
He caressed her cheek. His thumb drifting across her lips.
‘You should trust your instincts more,’ he said, as if it were the easiest thing to do in the world. ‘I don’t know why you’re insecure about your abilities, but, just in case no one else has ever told you this, you are an exceptionally good queen.’
She wasn’t an exceptionally good queen, she wasn’t any kind of a queen. But she found herself leaning into the caress anyway. And letting the joy at his heartfelt comment wrap around her heart.
His praise shouldn’t mean thi
s much to her, objectively she knew that. She didn’t want it to mean this much. But subjectively, she couldn’t stop herself from indulging that rejected child.
But then the needs of the woman came from nowhere. She pressed her palms to his broad chest, felt his pecs tense beneath his uniform.
His heart was beating in strong, steady punches. Her desire rose like a phoenix from the flames, making her want him so much it was almost painful.
He swore softly, then threaded his fingers into her hair and drew her face close to his. His mouth hovered over hers, tantalising, tempting, torturous.
‘Ask me,’ he demanded.
And so she did. ‘Kiss me.’
His mouth slanted across hers, capturing her tortured gasp. Their lips locked in a battle of dominance and submission. She opened for him, losing the war. The need became painful as it throbbed between her thighs. He clasped her head in his hands, holding her in place as he devoured each sob, each sigh, each groan.
The kiss was firm, seeking, commanding, but beneath the hunger was something more. Something both brutal and tender.
She needed this; she needed him. His praise, his validation, his acceptance.
She grasped his waist, wanting more, and he groaned.
Passion shivered through her, hardening her nipples and making her body soften, the pounding in her sex so hard now it hurt.
That she could make him ache, the way she ached, that she could make him want her, so much, strengthened the surge of vindication. The surge of triumph.
But then his calloused palms slipped under the hem of the cashmere sweater she wore, and his thumbs traced the line of her waistband igniting the skin across her back. And he bit softly into her bottom lip.
The light nip was like a bomb, detonating in her sex.
She wrenched herself free and stumbled back, coming up short when she hit a leather armchair.
Her ragged breaths matched his as they stared at each other.
She touched her fingers to her lip, aware of the sting from his teeth.
He looked devastatingly gorgeous, with his chest heaving, his dark hair mussed, the dimple in his chin even more lickable than usual and the thick ridge in his pants prominent enough to make her mouth water.
