Wedded for His Royal Duty

by Susan Meier

  “When we were here we were normal.”

  “You’re not now?”

  He caught her gaze. “My father’s a king. My brother will be a king. And I’m the extra guy who hangs around in case my brother dies.” He shook his head. “We’re kind of creepy.”

  “It’s only creepy if you focus on it.”

  “Which is why I lived the kind of life I did before this mess with your dad started. I didn’t want to think about it, let alone focus on it.”

  “You still fit. If you’ve felt left out before this, it was by your own choosing.”

  “Says the woman who went to America to be herself and have a good time before she becomes a queen.”

  She stiffened. “Is that how you see me?”

  He shrugged. “It appears, Princess, to be how you want to be seen. You’re the woman who doesn’t want to be queen, remember? You just want to rule long enough for your oldest son to be groomed for the top spot.”

  She stiffened again. And he had absolutely no idea why. She’d told him that herself.

  But rather than admit it or tell him to shut up, she looked around the kitchen. “I know how I’d remodel this room.”

  He laughed at her quick change of subject. “Really?”

  “White cabinets. Probably a marble countertop. Updated appliances. And a long oak table over there.” She pointed at a space by French doors that looked out over a garden. “With four chairs and a bench for kids, so they could nudge each other and misbehave.”

  He laughed. “You can tell you haven’t been around kids much. Misbehaving children aren’t fun.”

  “For adults. But I’ll bet it’s fun to be one.”

  He remembered himself and Dom wrestling like two bear cubs and couldn’t lie. “It is.”

  And suddenly he saw the room the way she saw it. White cabinets. Marble countertops. Chairs filled with kids. Laughter mixing with the scent of burning toast.

  “You want a family, don’t you?”

  She glanced around again at the cobweb-filled room, smiling, obviously not seeing the dust. “Being an only child is miserable.” She motioned around the kitchen. “For decades I thought this was what I wanted. A real house. A place for memories and kids. Lot of kids. Breakfast, lunch, dinner.” She sighed. “Birthday parties and horseback riding lessons. Managing schedules and dance classes.”

  “You wanted to be a mom.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, as if furious. “I’m a queen.”

  He frowned, confused. “But not forever. You said you only want to rule in the space between your dad and your future son.”

  Her gaze met his. “You knew my dad intended to coax an internet company to Grennady.”

  Another change of subject. Still, he kept up. “I gave him the idea.”

  Her face whitened. “In secret meetings with him?”

  “Not meetings. Conference calls. One every day for the past few days.”

  When her mouth fell open in what looked to be disbelief, he defensively said, “I am in charge of your protection.”

  She whirled away from him. “I’m the next ruler of my country! I should have been in on those calls!”

  And suddenly it all made sense to Alex. Not only was she out of the loop, but also their positions had reversed. When they met, he was a happy-go-lucky prince with no ambition and she was a princess devoted to duty. Now, he had jobs and her dad had hidden her away.

  “Hey, look, I’m sorry.” He raised his hands in apology. “If it’s any consolation, I liked you enough to want to protect you.”

  She sniffed a laugh. “Yeah. Sure. That makes it all better.”

  “And my dad’s not the only one thrilled that I’ve gotten off my duff and found a place in our kingdom. Dom is also thrilled. I am thrilled. And we owe it all to you. You motivated me to do things I would have never believed possible.”

  He watched the truth of that settle in on her, and pushed when another man might have let her wallow in her deserved misery. “You redeemed me. You probably had the biggest role of all of us.”

  “Yeah. It’s pretty great.”

  He laughed. “Don’t try to kid a kidder. It’s no fun being the one in the background. I’ve lived that life. But though you’re in the background, you still played a part. Everything you’ve done has served a purpose. Plus, your dad brought you into the big picture situation during that telephone conversation this afternoon. And he still needs time, which you are buying by going through with a wedding to me.”

  She sort of laughed, so he walked over, put a finger under her chin and lifted her face until their eyes met.

  “So what? You don’t want to marry me now?”

  * * *

  Eva’s heart skipped a beat. He seemed to realize how different he was, how strong. Not that he hadn’t been attractive before. But this smart, committed version of the sexy guy she’d been seeing was nearly irresistible.

  “I’ll do whatever my king needs me to do.”

  “I also think it’s time you and your dad had a chat about your job.”

  She laughed. “Two weeks as a working member of your palace staff and suddenly you think everybody needs a job?”

  “I don’t think everybody needs a job. I think your years in America were the whim of a young princess finding her feet. I think this crisis showed you who you want to be.”

  Oh, lord. He was right. And she didn’t have a clue what to do about it. “It has.”

  “So now you have to make sure the talk you have with your dad sinks in. Make sure he understands you’re not a pampered daughter holding a place until a new man comes along to take over. You’re a smart woman, more than capable of ruling.”

  And when he talked like that, she wanted to melt at his feet.

  He grinned at her. “Need help talking to your dad?”

  She laughed again, but this time she also swatted him. “Stop.”

  “What? I can be very helpful.”

  She knew he meant it jokingly but the truth was this Alex, this smart Alex, could be very helpful. She could see him heading up her palace’s royal guard. See him being a trusted husband, advisor.

  And she found herself at the place where the charade became scary. These weeks had grown him enough, changed him enough that he would be the perfect husband for her.

  Now she had nothing to battle with. Nothing to help her resist the feelings she was getting for him. Three weeks ago he might have been the absolute worst choice for a queen to take as a mate. Right now? He was perfect.

  Not to mention gorgeous. Sexy. Fun. He’d known she’d needed time away and he’d given it to her.

  How was she supposed to resist this guy?

  “Come on,” he said. “What would you cook if you were mum here?”

  She shook her head, hoping to shake off her ridiculously sober mood. They’d use this time to make a plan about talking to her dad, about her place in her kingdom, which she would implement when they returned to Grennady. But he didn’t want to be her husband and she had to respect that. She needed to show him she was fine.

  She walked to the big center island, pictured it white with a big marble countertop. “I’d make pancakes.”

  “I love pancakes.”

  “How about apple?”

  “I could be persuaded to try one.”

  She laughed, but her heart shattered. She could see them in this kitchen. Before she became queen there’d be plenty of time to be a real family, to teach their kids the things she and Alex hadn’t learned because their parents didn’t know to teach them. She could see the dark-eyed, dark-haired little boy who would take the throne after her. She could see the dark-haired, blue-eyed little girl who’d be Daddy’s favorite. She could see Alex as a daddy, know he’d love the role.

  But he
couldn’t see it. Because he didn’t want it.

  It was one thing to grow enough that he could take his place in his country’s royal family. Quite another to take down those walls around his heart.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ALEX EXPECTED HIMSELF to be nervous the day of his fake wedding. What he hadn’t expected was the weirdness that accompanied it. When the royal photographers snapped pictures of him, his father and Dom, he decided he got an odd shiver because it was all so real. Everything might be fake, but it needed to appear real, so they’d spared no expense. Left no tradition unturned. Including the exchange of personal gifts. Because it all had to be documented to look real.

  His father went first. Handing him the keys to the country house, which were largely symbolic since the retreat now had key pads, he said, “This house gave your mother and me great pleasure.” The photographers snapped nonstop. “It’s my hope it will give you and Eva many years of happiness too.”

  Flash. Flash. Flash.

  He took the keys, hugged his dad, and suddenly felt something he’d never felt before. Overwhelming respect for the king, followed by blind sorrow for the man who’d lost his wife and been forced to raise two sons alone. He squeezed his eyes shut, wrapped his arms around his dad more tightly.

  It was the first real hug he’d given his dad since his mom passed.

  When his dad pulled back, his eyes were filled with tears. Rose stepped forward. Wearing a very simple pale blue gown, she looked elegant and regal. She handed his dad a handkerchief. “Here, sweetie.”

  The king took it and waved off the photographers. “Don’t get pictures of that. No one wants to see me maudlin.”

  “Then you’re not going to want to watch him open this,” Dom said, taking the small rectangular box from Ginny, who had her lips pressed together as if forcing herself not to cry. Eva’s maid of honor, she wore a pale green dress with her hair pulled off her face and cascading down her back, a vision of yellow curls.

  Dom handed the box to Alex. He removed the lid and there was an eight-by-ten picture of their family, a candid shot at one of their Christmas parties. Their mother beaming. Dom trying to look kingly. And Alex sticking out his tongue.

  The room grew silent.

  It seemed the photographers held their collective breaths.

  “It’s—”

  “It’s so very you,” Ginny said with a sniff that was half laugh, half sob. “Sticking out your tongue. Being a pain in the butt.”

  Emotion tightened his chest. He remembered the day as one of the happiest of his life. But when he pictured the ballroom in the house, he didn’t see himself, his mom or even guests. He saw Eva standing in the cobwebs.

  He hugged Dom, then Ginny, thanking them.

  His father’s manservant, Henry, who’d been at the palace for as long as Alex could remember, took the gifts with the promise that they would be in Alex’s apartment when he returned from his honeymoon.

  Alex nodded. The photographers left. The little family dispersed. His father needed to be in the church’s front row with Rose when Alex and Dom walked onto the altar, but first they had to retrieve Jimmy from the nanny because Ginny was maid of honor but Rose wanted the baby at the wedding.

  When the bells chimed out four o’clock, Dom and Alex walked onto the altar. Rose and the king were in their seats, Rose holding Jimmy who patted her cheeks. The organist began a processional and Eva’s two university friends walked in followed by Ginny.

  Then the music changed and Eva was at the door of the church. With no father to walk her down the aisle, she’d decided to walk in unescorted.

  At the time it had seemed like the bad choice, but after their discussion at the country house, when he’d seen just how strong and smart she was, it no longer seemed wrong.

  In her long white dress, with her black hair pulled into a tight knot with a ring of pearls around the knot, connected to a veil that fell from the pearls to the long, long train of her dress, Eva was the epitome of quiet elegance. Perfection. Strength.

  Yet somehow she managed to look innocent and beautiful.

  His breath fluttered in and stuttered out. Longings filled him.

  She walked up to him. The minister said, “Who gives this woman in matrimony?”

  She held Alex’s gaze. “I give myself.”

  Emotion trembled through him. Because he finally saw. For as much as he’d believed he didn’t have a place in his family, she’d felt worse. She had no siblings. And all her country seemed to want her to do was produce the next heir.

  But she was a queen.

  He took her hand, kissed her knuckles. Then turned her to face the altar.

  After a long ceremony and hours of pictures, they wound their way down the palace halls and corridors to the back door of the ballroom for a receiving line and reception.

  This time there was no Uncle Gerard. Alex was sure his absence would be reported in the papers tomorrow, and wondered how the world would react when King Mason finally announced his brother hadn’t attended Eva’s wedding because he was under house arrest for treason.

  What a world his wife would be returning to.

  When it came time for their first dance as a couple, he led her to the dance floor. When their gazes met, he saw her fatigue.

  As he swung her around to the tune of the waltz, he said, “It’s been a long day.”

  She forced a smile. “Yes, it has.”

  “Where’s the woman who wanted to make apple pancakes?”

  She laughed. “I think I left her back at the country house.”

  “Maybe we should go get her?”

  She laughed again.

  His spirits lifted. He twirled her around. “It is a little nerve-racking to be guest of honor in front of eight hundred people.”

  She met his gaze again. “And sitting for hours for a bunch of pictures no one will see.”

  He danced her in a big looping circle around the floor, twirled her out, then pulled her back in, making her giggle.

  “Stop! That’s not a waltz.”

  “And we care because?”

  She giggled again. “I don’t know. Honestly. I just don’t know anything anymore.”

  “Sure you do. You have tons of stuff you have to face when you go back home. But that could be days away. Weeks away.” He dipped his head to catch her gaze again. “Why don’t we have some fun?”

  * * *

  Why not?

  She could think of a million reasons, but most of them revolved around keeping her heart when she desperately wanted to lose it to him.

  Still, when he twirled her around again, she laughed. When the dance ended and he gave an exaggerated bow, she laughed again. The wedding guests loved him.

  She loved him.

  And there it was. The truth that stood on the edge of her mind every day, but which she wouldn’t let manifest because it was too frightening. How could she love a man who didn’t love her?

  When the dance was over, her mother met her on the edge of the dance circle and led her to the private table set up for Alex and Eva. She handed her a glass of water.

  “Drink this.”

  Eva shook her head. “I’m not thirsty.”

  “You need to stay hydrated,” her mom insisted.

  Alex took the glass from her. He cast a funny glance at Eva’s mom. “We’ll both take regular breaks and have sips of water. Not glasses or gulps.”

  Karen sighed, but Eva nodded, as the photographer came over to take a candid shot of them in a down minute. She smiled, but inside her heart broke a little. There would be thousands of pictures of a fake wedding.

  Alex pulled her out to the dance floor again. “What are you doing?”

  He drew her into his arms. “You think too much. And tonight we’re not th
inking. We’re dancing.”

  She recognized his point immediately. Her face probably showed her unhappiness. He didn’t know it was over the fact that she loved him. He thought she was upset about documenting an event that was essentially fake. But that was good. It gave her breathing room. And maybe even a chance to let herself feel the love she couldn’t deny—if only for a minute or two.

  He tightened his arms around her, and she realized the music had shifted and they were dancing a slow song.

  Even considering all the times they’d kissed, she hadn’t ever had the presence of mind to appreciate being close to him. The first time he’d kissed her to persuade her not to marry him, he’d yanked her against him. They’d been pressed together from chest to knees and she’d felt the strength and power in his tense body.

  Then he’d sneaked the kiss at the engagement party. The real kiss. And the press of their bodies had nothing to do with strength or power. That had been a kiss of real emotion. And she’d felt it in every place their bodies brushed.

  But now they were dancing. Her brain was clear enough to take in the breadth of his shoulders, the solidness of his chest, the leanness of his torso. She let the hand she had at his shoulder drift down and come up again.

  His head tilted as he caught her gaze.

  What would he do if he knew she was nearly overwhelmed by love for him?

  What would he do if he knew curiosity about how he felt beneath all these clothes raced through her?

  What would he think if she told him she was tired of being a woman one step behind everybody else her own age because she’d been sheltered, protected by an arranged marriage?

  What if she told him she wanted to make love with him once, just once, for the pleasure of being with the first man she truly loved? So that she could move into the rest of her life a whole person, a real woman, the woman she was meant to be?

  If she promised him no emotion, no attempt to break down his walls, and asked for just one night of everything...

  Would he be able to say no?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN