Arranged: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella

by Lexi Blake

  And for the first time in forever, he’d thought of her. He’d stood as Theo Taggart had promised to love Erin Argent for the rest of his life and he’d had a vision of Day with her gray eyes and silky hair. Day, with those ridiculous glasses.

  Innocent Day.

  They were worlds apart now. She was probably married and teaching somewhere in the States or England. She would have a professor husband who would argue fine points of theory with her and she would be raising a couple of genius-level children. He wondered if she saw him in the papers and laughed about the time the playboy prince had kissed her.

  He hoped she was happy.

  And for a moment, he’d mourned. Not for his father and brother. He did that every day. He’d mourned the Kash he’d been. He’d ached at the thought of what that Kashmir would think about who he was today.

  “Good lord, man, put on some clothes.” Weston stood and walked back to the coffee service. “Everyone else might have seen that, but I’ve been careful not to.”

  He wasn’t sure why Weston was such a prude. The man was known to be a member of Sanctum. It was a club in Dallas that catered to people in the BDSM lifestyle.

  “My mother has overreacted. I’m sure she was terrified when she learned I was over here in America without a proper guard, but she certainly shouldn’t have called McKay-Taggart to escort me home. I assure you I can find my way. You don’t have to make the twenty-hour flight.” Who had he brought with him? Yes, that lovely girl from the east side of the island with the pretty breasts was the flight attendant. He could spend some time with her.

  “There are currently around two hundred members of the press outside waiting to get a statement from you.”

  Kash stopped. “Two hundred?”

  “Give or take a few. That’s why we’re going to require a police escort.” Weston continued on as though nothing was wrong. “I’ve got my man with a limo in the parking garage. We’ll meet Jesse down there and Boomer will join us in the lift. The hotel has agreed to shut down one of the lifts so it only stops on this floor and the parking garage. Boomer will ensure no one gets through. Miami PD has offered an escort to the airport. You should hurry and shower. We don’t have much time.”

  His head was reeling in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the unholy amount of vodka he’d downed the night before. “Why is the fact that I had sex with three women news? Believe me, it happens all the time. Second, why would I need a bloody police escort? And what is a Boomer?”

  “A Boomer is one of two new former Special Forces bodyguards your mother has hired until Jesse and I train a new group to protect the royal family since it’s expanding. I hope you have a large refrigerator. Boomer eats constantly, and you should watch out for any erratic behavior. He’s a nice lad, but he’s been hit on the head more than anyone could imagine. However, he’s a bit of a savant when it comes to marksmanship. No one cares that you had sex with three women last night because no one knows. I took care of that and your mother is not going to be happy about all the bribes I had to expense to accomplish that. You need a bloody police escort to get through the throngs of reporters, as I mentioned earlier. Now could you please put that thing away? My wife is meeting us at the airport. I would like to be able to tell her the amount of nudity I witnessed was minimal.”

  He was getting irritated. He tossed on last evening’s slacks. If the Brit wanted to power play him, he could get with the game. It wasn’t like he would allow them to come in and drag his ass home like he was some kind of wayward child. He was a king. “Don’t bother to bring your wife. I’m sure she’s lovely, but my mother has overstepped herself. I will choose my guard and I will select who will train them.”

  Weston checked his watch. “How soon can you be ready?”

  “Have you heard a word I’ve said? I thank you for helping me out last night and keeping that tape from hitting the web, but I can manage from here.”

  Weston picked up the newspaper that had been delivered along with the coffee service. He tossed it Kash’s way. “If you feel that way, I can certainly let Michael and Jesse know they should stick to her majesty’s side and allow you to be brutally murdered if it comes to that.”

  “Mother already has guards.” He clutched the newspaper. She’d had the same set of guards for years. She liked to call them her girls. Four women who’d served in the military and had been trained by…well, by McKay-Taggart. Had something happened? “Why is Mother so afraid she needs more guards?”

  “Not for your mother,” Weston replied casually. “It’s for your future bride. As for firing me and Jesse, you can’t. We’ve been hired by your parliament to provide security and assistance for the royal wedding and to train the new queen’s guard.”

  Yes, he’d had far too much to drink. He was still sleeping and having the oddest dream.

  Weston shook his head. “It’s all right there in the paper, if you don’t believe me. Now hurry and take that shower. You’ve got to get home because the formal engagement ceremony is in two days.”

  Kash opened the paper and stared down at the headline.

  Playboy King to Claim His Bride

  “I’m not getting married.”

  Weston stepped up and patted his arm. “You are or you’ll give up your throne. I’ll explain it all on the plane. The other reason your mother hired me is I have a degree in law. I’ve read the clause in your constitution that your mother intends to use to force you to marry. I assure you, it will hold up. You can attempt to change the constitution but that requires a two-year review process, another year of public forums, and a vote. You’ll be replaced by then. Like I said, I can explain it all on the incredibly long plane trip. Are you all right, Your Majesty? You went a bit green.”

  Kash ran for the bathroom.

  He’d been right. He shouldn’t have bothered to wake up.

  * * * *

  Dayita Samar stepped into the queen’s private reception room with a smile. Not for the stunning décor or the view of the ocean in the distance, though both were worthy of great praise. No, Day’s smile was for the woman herself. Queen Yasmine was one of the kindest women she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. The queen mother was a stabilizing influence on the country, someone to look up to and admire for her willingness to serve her people.

  How she’d managed to produce a son who was a walking venereal disease was beyond Day’s comprehension.

  Day curtsied even as the queen waved off such formalities.

  “Darling Day, come here. It’s been so long,” the queen said, enveloping her in a hug.

  She was far too thin. It had been a while and the queen seemed frailer than before.

  “Your Majesty, it’s always a pleasure to see you.” Day had learned how to maneuver her way around a bureaucracy, but she genuinely enjoyed dealing with the queen. After the morning she’d had, it was a nice way to spend her afternoon. “You said it was urgent. How can I help you?”

  “Oh, my dear, you won’t simply be helping me. You’ll be helping your country. You might be helping the world.” The queen took a step back and there was no way to miss the sheen of tears in her eyes, though she took a deep breath and seemed to banish them. She turned and walked to the sitting area, a cluster of lush chairs on a carpet that was likely worth more than Day’s yearly salary at the ministry.

  The queen took a seat, gesturing for Day to take one of her own.

  “I’m certainly intrigued, Your Majesty.” Day studied the queen. There was a weariness to her that couldn’t be missed, even though she smiled like nothing was wrong. “How can I help?”

  “You can marry my son.”

  Day smiled and couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out. The queen was also quite funny. The idea of Kashmir marrying anyone was ludicrous. He was far too busy screwing supermodels and actresses and other men’s wives. After a long moment, she sat back with a sigh. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I needed a laugh today. I’ve spent the morning fighting with parliament over funding for my el
ementary science education program.”

  The blustery old men who ran parliament didn’t see the need. She’d argued that early science and math intervention worked to get more girls involved in those areas of study. By the time they hit junior high it was too late, and certain societal norms took over, making the classes less interesting to female students. Apparently that was perfectly fine with parliament. One of the men had even told her she would be far happier if she quit her job, got married, and had a husband to occupy her time.

  Oh, how she would love to take a whip to that bastard, and not in a pleasurable way.

  The queen frowned in Day’s direction, getting her attention quickly.

  Day sat up. “You’re serious? About me marrying the king? I haven’t spoken to the king in years. I hardly think he wants to marry me.”

  The queen’s hands tightened around the arms of her chair. “I’m dead serious. The time has come and passed and I can’t wait another second more. Have you ever heard of the Law of Rational Succession? It’s a tiny clause set into our constitution over two hundred years ago.”

  She’d read the constitution, of course. History, and in particular Loa Malian history, was a subject she enjoyed. Since becoming the head of the country’s education department, she spent her time reviewing public school books. She didn’t remember the law, however. “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Her majesty seemed to relax a bit, as though she’d half expected Day to run for the hills. “I’m not surprised. Few people outside of constitutional lawyers have, but I’ve been assured that it will hold and that it’s perfectly legal. The Law of Rational Succession states that the king can be forced to marry or give up his throne if he has not selected a bride by his twentieth birthday.”

  “Twenty?” Kash was thirty-five.

  “Yes, well, it was written long ago when men and women were expected to marry and reproduce at a young age,” the queen explained. “I’ve given him fifteen years but there’s no end in sight. According to the law, the king or queen’s parents have the right to select a proper spouse, and the wedding must take place within two weeks of the invocation or the king’s crown is forfeit. It was placed into law in an attempt to avoid the kind of trouble that comes from the line of succession being broken. There is also a clause about being able to remove a monarch who will not abide by the constitution or one who is too sick to care for the people.”

  “Has it ever been used?”

  The queen shook her head. “It has never been invoked before. Now, I am going to assume that my son will work to block me, but I’ve got a legal team on that as well. Changing the constitution will require roughly three years. I can end the monarchy in two weeks. The only place for the crown to go is to my nephew, Chapal, and he will refuse it. He has already signed the documents of abdication in case Kashmir proves stubborn.”

  End the monarchy? Day tried to process the idea. The Kamdars had held the crown for centuries. The family had been the one to put into place the constitution that protected the citizens—even from a bad king. Kash’s grandfather had been the one who shared the revenue from the country’s oil with every Loa Malian, making them the wealthiest citizenship in the world.

  Loa Mali had a parliament, but the crown worked hand in hand with them and the king could have the final say if he chose to use his power.

  Not that King Kash paid much attention anymore. He was far too busy running around the world having his picture taken at parties.

  “You would have us move to a purely representative government? I don’t know if that is a smart move, Your Majesty. Some people in this country are still extremely set in their ways. I spent all morning arguing with a group of elected officials who believe a woman’s place is in the home and that educating our girls in anything beyond how to keep a house is a waste of time.”

  The queen’s lips curled up in an encouraging smile. “Excellent. As queen, you will be able to direct education from a much more powerful position. They won’t be able to refuse you. Smile when you force them to eat crow, darling. That is the one thing we shall have to work on. You frown far too much. I know it’s not proper to ask a woman to smile these days, but a queen is different. You must never allow them to see anything but strength. A good smile while you’re gutting some idiot’s argument is a perfect show of strength. Come along. Give me one. I know you can do it.”

  What surreal dream was she having? She was going to wake up any minute. She had to. “Your Majesty, I don’t understand.”

  “It’s easy. Look.” The queen’s mouth curled up in a restrained smile. “You see, the key is to not look too joyous. Save that for moments when you need the public to see you as a woman and not a queen. Those times come too. The key is knowing when and how to use the power to its best effect.”

  “What?”

  The queen waved away the question. “I know you young people love your resting bitchy faces, but you have to save that for particular people. Like those men today. You may use this bitchy face on them to show your queenly power, though I assure you smiling will set them off their games more. And don’t let the cameras catch you frowning or they do those miming things on the Internet now. There was a terrible one of me and some Harry Potter character. If you smile, they can’t do this to you.”

  Day had seen it. Some Potter fan had likened the queen to Professor McGonagall. It had been Day’s screensaver for over a month.

  “I think you’re talking about memes. No one makes memes of the head of education.” Of course, no one really listened to her either.

  “But they will make the memings when you are queen,” Queen Yasmine announced solemnly. “Now, we must talk about your dress. I think traditional is best for the actual ceremony, but you should wear couture to the reception. The whole world will be watching. We need to present a true vision of our country as a cosmopolitan nation. I’ve already called the heads of three fashion houses to submit designs. And, darling girl, I love you, but we must pluck those eyebrows. They’re growing together. They’re not supposed to do that.”

  She wasn’t… She felt her forehead and grimaced. Technically hair was supposed to grow. Plucking it was the unnatural force here. It was also not the point. “Kash hasn’t spoken to me in fifteen years. Why would he want to marry me now?”

  The queen sighed. “Have you listened to a word I’ve said? Kash doesn’t want to get married at all. I’m rather certain he doesn’t want to come home. That’s why I hired guards to drag him here. I was even smart enough to hire the particularly handsome one with the British accent and the law degree. Even now he’s explaining to Kash that there’s no way out of the trap I’ve set and that he should accept this beautiful gift of love and stability I’m offering him.”

  “Is it a gift or a trap?” The queen had used both words, but it was definitely starting to feel like a trap to Day.

  The queen’s smile turned beatific. “It’s both, of course. That’s the beauty of it all. You’re going to be perfect for him. You’re the girl to keep him in line. My boy is lovely and so smart, though he often forgets to use his brain. I wish his penis wasn’t so large. I think that was where we went wrong. It has to have come from my side of the family, because my husband certainly wasn’t that large. And I was happy with that. It meant he didn’t feel the need to use it on every woman who walked by. And you must get Kashmir to stop having it photographed. It’s unseemly.”

  Day felt herself blush. Damn it. She didn’t blush. Ever. She’d seen almost everything there was to be seen and she was cool with it all. Sex was part of a good and natural life. Accepting her own sexuality had been important. But something about the elderly queen talking about Kash’s penis had Day’s skin flushing. “Your Majesty, I’m not marrying Kashmir. He’s been a halfway decent king, especially in the early years, but he would make a terrible husband.”

  “But he won’t once you show him the way.”

  “The way?”

  “Dayita, there’s a reason I chose you.” The queen was
quiet for a moment and then she looked back up, not even attempting to quell the tears in her eyes now. “You can save him. You can give him the stability he needs. You can show him he doesn’t have to destroy himself.”

  “I don’t know why you think I can do that.”

  The queen seemed to come to some inner decision because she sniffled and then sat back, her head coming up regally. “You are smart enough to lead this country. You are perfect to be the face of the monarchy. If I allow Kash to continue, we will be obsolete and our country will go the way of so many other small nations. You are right. At this point we still have a faction that would love to see us go back into the Dark Ages. I worry that there is a group of men waiting to take over. They would privatize something that has always been public. That oil was found on public land and therefore belongs to all of us. They would change this and that would send many of our people into poverty. Women and girls, most of all. Are you willing to risk that?”

  Something was wrong with the queen. Day had never seen her like this before. Her majesty was so gentle and gracious. “Your Majesty, I understand that you’re upset with Kashmir, but I’m not going to marry him. You need to talk to him about this. You need to make him see reason. He should marry, but he needs to find the right woman.”

  “You are the right woman, but he is far too foolish to see it. He’s spent fifteen years avoiding you.”

  “He doesn’t remember my name.” He’d refused to see her the one time she’d shown up to the palace in person. He’d never written her back. She’d sent him letters for more than a year until she finally realized he was ignoring her.

  “Then introduce yourself, darling, because I won’t be swayed,” the queen announced. “I will see the two of you married and settled and working for a brighter future or I will destroy it all and let the cards fall as they may.”