Wedded for His Royal Duty

by Susan Meier

  Sally gasped. “But, Your Majesty—”

  “No buts, Sally. Alex is right.”

  Sally wrote something in one of her big black books. “Fine.” She turned to Rose. “I’ll have coffee sent to the living room where we can discuss designers.”

  Rose said, “Great!”

  Rose and Karen began chattering about dresses, but Eva turned to Alex as he sat again.

  “Thanks.”

  He felt color rise to his cheeks. Confusion and anger with himself met and merged into an emotion that made him want to kick his own butt.

  “It means nothing. The way I see it, our kingdom can absorb whatever loss results when we cancel this thing.”

  “Because you know my mom and I have no money.”

  He shrugged. “That’s temporary.”

  She put her hand on the back of his. “Yes, but you saved us from being embarrassed.”

  “Is that enough to earn the payback of you backing out of the wedding?”

  She laughed lightly, obviously relieved, but also the way someone would laugh with a friend. “No.”

  Damn her for being so cute. His mouth tugged upward until he couldn’t stop a smile. “Don’t make me like you.”

  She peeked up at him from beneath lush black eyelashes. “You’d rather hate me?”

  The heat that roared through him nearly stopped his heart. Her magnetic blue-gray eyes held his. Her pretty hair rippled around an even prettier face. Everything inside of him chanted that he should lean forward and kiss her.

  Kiss her.

  Kiss her.

  Kiss her.

  But that was the real problem, wasn’t it? She was pretty enough, tempting enough, that maybe she should be the woman he married.

  And then what?

  Fall in love for real?

  The very thought tightened his throat. He’d loved two women in his life and lost both. Only a crazy man set himself up for that kind of pain.

  “I will talk you out of this.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  ALEX WATCHED EVA leave the dining room with her mom and Queen Rose, then exited through the hidden door in the back. Ready to change out of these stuffy clothes and put on riding breeches, he strode through the echoing maze of tall-ceilinged halls, but at his private elevator, one of his father’s secretaries caught him.

  The older man bowed slightly. “Your Majesty, your dad sent me to find you. He wants you in his office now.”

  “Now?”

  The old man’s eyebrows rose, an indicator Alex shouldn’t argue, and that usually meant he’d done something wrong.

  Alex winced. Best-case scenario was that the king wanted to chastise him for suggesting they pay for the wedding. Worst-case, he’d overheard Alex telling Eva he’d talk her out of the wedding.

  Damn.

  Without a word, he motioned for the man to lead him back to his father’s office.

  When they arrived, he entered, but the secretary reached inside to grab the doorknob, and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  His father didn’t look up from the letter he was signing. “You cannot talk Eva out of this wedding.”

  Okay. It was worst-case.

  He fell to one of the velvet chairs in front of his dad’s desk. “I can’t believe you’re forcing either of us to marry when Eva was barely out of diapers and I was pulling a wagon with my bike when that damned agreement was signed. It’s ridiculous. Antiquated. And you know it.”

  His dad studied him for a few seconds, then he sighed heavily. “All right. You’re right. And this situation is too important to leave to chance. You were smart enough to pick up on the money problem that I’d somehow missed, so I need you in the loop.”

  Alex sat up. “The loop?”

  “Eva’s dad didn’t leave her mom.”

  “What?”

  “King Mason got wind of the fact that his brother was about to stage a coup.”

  “So he ran?”

  “For his life. His brother’s coup didn’t involve taking over parliament. He intended to have King Mason assassinated so he could look like a grieving brother, reluctantly filling his murdered king’s shoes.”

  Alex sat back. “Oh, my God.” He thought for a second, then said, “But if Mason dies, his brother wouldn’t become king. His daughter would.”

  His father locked his eyes with Alex’s. “Exactly.”

  Alex’s heart thundered in his chest. “He was planning to kill Eva?”

  “Gerard couldn’t just murder Mason. He had to kill Eva too. The plan was to stage an accident or an attack on the palace, and have both killed at the same time, so he would be the next in line to rule. That’s why we separated them. Now, the two of them dying at the same time will look like the assassination that it is.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “This marriage isn’t about a treaty. We brought Eva and her mother here on the pretense of a wedding to get them out of their palace and keep them safe.”

  Alex gaped in disbelief. “And you don’t think putting Eva in the public eye is dangerous?”

  “Exactly the opposite. As long as she’s in the press, her murder would be too public. Gerard can’t even do something like kidnap Eva and her mother to use as leverage to bring Mason out of hiding. It would simply call too much attention to him when he wanted all this to look like an accident.”

  Eva’s image popped into his head. Her waist-length hair, her shy smiles, her fearless personality. The thought that someone wanted to kill her infuriated him.

  “And you think a wedding keeps her safe?”

  “As long as this wedding’s on a fast track, Eva and her mother are protected.”

  Though he was angry that his father hadn’t told him this in the beginning, he understood the principle behind the plan. “You’re right.”

  The king held his gaze. “For the next four weeks, you have to cooperate. This plan only works if we can keep everybody’s attention focused on a happy wedding. And that means you’ve got to make this look real.”

  Alex didn’t even hesitate. “You have my word.”

  King Ronaldo leaned forward, laying his arms on his desk. “Once we get your wedding date announced to the press, we’re off and running. That’s actually why we set the date so soon. All the royal events will happen too fast and too close together for the spotlight to leave Eva. Plus, Mason doesn’t believe he’ll need more than four weeks to sort this out.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  “Going through back channels to figure out who he can trust, so he can get the proof he needs that his brother wanted to assassinate him. Once he gets it, he can have his brother arrested.”

  “He thinks his own staff is in on it?”

  “Only some. But we both know it only takes trusting one wrong person to risk everything. And in this case what he risks is his life and his daughter’s.”

  Merely thinking that someone wanted to kill Eva sent anger careening through Alex again. But he understood palace intrigue. Though there had been no siblings who wanted his father’s throne, there had been other challenges. Some subtle. Some obvious. All dangerous.

  “We’ll do the press conference announcing your wedding tomorrow. Which means you and Eva need to be seen together this afternoon, looking like a couple getting married.”

  “You want us to look like we’re in love?”

  “No. Everybody knows you barely know each other. So I want you to look like a man and woman getting acquainted in a positive way. Then after the press conference tomorrow, you can take Eva to the country house to show her where you would live as a married couple. The press will love that. It will also keep you and Eva in the papers. And even if anyone notices the extra bodyguards, they’ll just think it’s because there are
two of you, not you alone.”

  He rose. “Okay.”

  His father rose too. “And Alex, if Mason can’t get this done in four weeks, you will be marrying her.”

  A wedding for a treaty was ridiculous. Marrying Eva to keep her safe gave him a weird feeling. His muscles hardened, his brain sharpened. He hardly knew the woman, but no one would hurt her on his watch.

  “Absolutely.”

  * * *

  Eva, her mom, and Queen Rose walked to the formal living room with Sally from the protocol office. Once seated on the velvet sofas, Sally ordered coffee while Eva and the dynamic mother duo got down to the business of discussing designers and considering various styles of wedding dress.

  The coffee hadn’t even been delivered before a member of the palace staff arrived, whispered something to Sally and left.

  Sally turned to Eva. “It seems, Princess, that Alex has arranged a date for the two of you this afternoon.”

  Working to keep the surprise out of her voice, she said, “He has?”

  “You’ll be lunching at a seaside restaurant. It will be the first time the press sees you as a couple. They won’t get to ask questions, but they could shoot them at you from behind their cameras.” She smiled briefly, obviously still miffed over the fact that her crown was paying for the wedding. “But you’ve handled this kind of thing before.”

  “Yes.” Since she was old enough to stand behind a microphone, her dad had let her have her own voice.

  She had to fight not to squeeze her eyes shut in misery. It was the first time in a week she’d had a good memory of her dad. He’d been the best supportive, funny, loving dad, and she suddenly missed him with a fierceness that brought tears to her eyes.

  She blinked them away as she rose from the sofa. She refused to get maudlin over a man who had left her and her mom in such a precarious position.

  “Thank you, Sally.” She faced her mom and Queen Rose. “I’ll need to leave to get ready.”

  Rose jumped up to hug her. “Enjoy the afternoon.”

  Karen kissed her cheek. “Yes. Enjoy yourself. Remember, brides are happy.”

  Rose laughed and batted her hand in dismissal. “We went through this with Ginny. Got pregnant in a one-night stand, barely knew Dom and suddenly had to marry a man she didn’t know because her baby would be a king.” She hugged Eva again. “It worked out for Ginny and Dom. It’ll work out for you too, sugar.”

  “It will,” Karen agreed sagely.

  Eva only smiled. Obviously, they hadn’t overheard any of Alex’s comments about convincing her to call off the wedding.

  She turned to leave, but Sally stopped her and handed her a computer tablet.

  “All the links to the websites of the approved designers are in here. I’ll need a name very soon so I can have him or her here ASAP to take measurements.” She tapped her watch. “We don’t have weeks for you to mull this over. We have, at best, a few days for you to choose a designer.”

  Her nerve endings popped with apprehension. Everything would be happening so fast, she had to get with the program. This afternoon’s date with Alex had to be step one in her plan to get him to like her.

  Three hours later, she stood in front of the mirror in her dressing room, inspecting herself. After watching several video demonstrations on flirting, she’d received a call from Alex’s staff with the time and location she was to meet her betrothed.

  Deciding she had a good variety of flirting techniques, she’d showered and dressed in black pants and a white top, with her long hair pinned up on her head in a tight bun.

  She sighed. She looked like a librarian. Casual Prince Alex would most likely wear something übercomfortable. This outfit only highlighted their differences, all but shouting that they didn’t belong together—

  Oh, darn him! Now she got it. The prince who kept saying he would talk her out of this marriage hadn’t scheduled this lunch as a date. He’d set it up to get them out of the palace and in front of the press, as a way to publicly demonstrate that they didn’t belong together.

  She fumed as the truth settled in. What better way to get her to back out of this wedding than by proving they were different? Really different. So awkward as a couple that the media might make an issue of it and make her life too miserable to endure.

  Furious, she yanked the pins out of her hair and let it fall around her. She turned right, then left. The effect was better but still not good enough for the woman marrying Xaviera’s casual playboy prince.

  Rummaging in her drawers, she found denim capris and a flirty blue top. Sleeveless and low-cut, made of airy material that billowed out when she moved, the blouse was one of her favorites. Not only was she comfortable in it, but she was pretty. She felt flirty. And the videos she’d watched on YouTube said feeling flirty was half the battle. He might be on a mission to get her to dump him, but she was on the opposite mission. If it killed her, she would get him to like her enough he’d go through with this wedding.

  No! By God, she would get him to fall in love with her!

  After filling her black clutch bag with her phone and other necessities, she headed out.

  When she saw Alex at the small side entryway where he’d indicated he would meet her, she watched his expression falter. Wearing worn boat shoes and scruffy jeans, with a white Oxford cloth shirt that tried unsuccessfully to make him respectable, he looked like a commoner. A dirt-poor, derelict commoner.

  She didn’t quite look that bad, but she hadn’t dressed like a proper princess either, and from the quick once-over he gave her, it surprised him.

  He shook his head as she approached.

  She smiled. “You wanted to point out our differences by looking scruffy. But I figured out your game. So I scruffed down my outfit and, guess what? Here we are. A match.”

  “I did not set this up to point out our differences.” He smiled engagingly. “And you’d look great no matter what you wore.”

  She’d look great no matter what she wore?

  Eva stepped back. “What?”

  “You look great. But, more important, we need to be out in public today because we’ll be announcing our wedding tomorrow at a press conference.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I thought you were going to talk me out of it?”

  He laughed lightly. “Let’s just take this one day at a time.”

  Her eyes narrowed even more as she studied him. He might be a nice enough guy to save her from embarrassment twice, but he did not want this wedding. He should not be acting as if everything was fine.

  “All right. What’s up?”

  He pointed at a black Mercedes. “Nothing.”

  As he helped her into the car, she analyzed their situation one more time, and realized that maybe there was nothing wrong. He had to look attentive and proper in public or his dad would know he wasn’t taking this seriously. But that really worked in her favor. She could use the four or five hours they’d spend together getting him to like her.

  To her surprise, he drove, with bodyguards following them in a big black SUV. Being accustomed to security details in her own country, she didn’t even blink. Instead, she glanced out the window at the scenery. Though she’d viewed most of the island from the air as her royal family’s jet touched down, being close to the thick green foliage and the rocky coastline took her breath away.

  She sighed.

  He eyed her curiously. “What’s up?”

  “Your country is beautiful.”

  “It is.”

  Okay. Even though it worked in her favor, his being nice to her was getting weird.

  She stole a glance at him, running the situation through her brain again. He was so sexy in his scruffy jeans and white shirt that she had to admit she sort of liked the idea of marrying him. Even if his being nice to her was an act for the
press, this was her shot. Her chance. She should not be overanalyzing this. She should be using it, engaging him in normal conversation to soften him up for when she experimented with flirting.

  “What was it like growing up in such a warm climate?”

  He took another quick look at her. “You mean as opposed to being required to wear a parka ninety percent of the year?”

  She laughed at his perceptiveness. “Yes.”

  “Nice.” He thought for a second. “I loved the beach, but I didn’t like the private area behind the palace. I wanted to be on the real beach, the public beach, with kids my own age. It wasn’t easy, and my bodyguards would groan when I was home from boarding school, but they generally found a way for me to be a normal kid.”

  “That’s why I fell in love with America. Most Europeans knew who I was. And if they didn’t, they knew I was ‘famous’ for some reason, so they’d Google me and that would be the end of any casual relationships. But in America, even knowing I was a princess, they’d shrug and say, ‘that’s cool,’ but otherwise, I was just a person to them.”

  “Interesting.”

  “I’m surprised you never encountered that.”

  He sneaked another peek at her. His brown eyes softened when he thought. His lips tilted up just slightly, as if something he remembered made him want to smile.

  Tingly warmth filled her. Oh, boy. It would be so flipping easy to fall for that smile. But it wasn’t real. And even though his behavior could only be an act for the press, something felt wrong. Off. Really, really off.

  “Stop the car.”

  “What?”

  She huffed out a breath. “Stop the car. Go back to the palace.”

  “We can’t. We’re supposed to be seen in public.”

  “I can’t behave normally at a restaurant or anywhere with you acting like this. It’ll make me a nervous wreck. I’ll look like an idiot.”

  “You’re fine.”

  “No. I’m not. And neither are you. What the hell happened to you while I was getting ready for this lunch?”