Arranged: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella

by Lexi Blake

  It was the rational thing to do. He could spend a few days pouring over constitutional law and laying out the best plan to remove his inconvenient wife so he could get back to his real life. He’d fulfilled his obligations by marrying her in the first place. There was likely nothing that said he couldn’t divorce her.

  Why did the thought of divorcing Dayita make him almost as angry as what she’d done to him?

  “Kash, do you want me to bring in someone for you to talk to? You’ve had a rough couple of weeks. Lots of pressure on you.”

  He’d found out his mother was dying, been forced to marry, fallen in love, been betrayed.

  Was he in love with her? Was that why he was so angry? Had any other woman caused him problems, he would have gently ended the relationship. He would have moved on and not thought about her twice. He had the feeling Day would haunt him for the rest of his life.

  “We have a man named Kai Ferguson who works in the building next door. You’ve met him before.”

  Kash frowned. “Yes, I’ve met him. I’m not going to sit in some room and discuss my feelings with his man bun. If he wishes to speak with me and have me take him seriously, he can get a haircut.”

  McKay groaned. “You’re as bad as Ian.”

  He certainly was not, but he also wasn’t going to get caught in some ridiculous discussion of what should be private feelings. All feelings should private. All of them.

  Smile and wave and never let them see you’re anything but happy, son. You cannot allow the press or any of your people to see you as anything less than a king. Kings do not have feelings. Kings have responsibilities, and we do them without complaint. I know your brother acts the fool much of the time, but he’s not going to be the king. He can be the clown.

  He’d been twelve and Shray almost fifteen. Kash had hidden in his father’s study because he wanted, just once, to know what these weekly meetings between his father and brother were like. He was never invited. It was not information for the spare. In the early days, his mother would distract him by playing games with him or suggesting they watch a movie. At the time, it had felt like precious moments he got with his mother. It was only later that he understood she was trying to spare his feelings.

  His father had cared for him, but Kash had always known his place was to be the spare, and once Shray had married and had children, he would be worthless. He would have been nothing but the clown-like uncle, only relevant because of his childhood.

  It was why he’d studied, why he’d gone out into the world. He’d wanted to make something of himself. Yes, he would have been the spare—a footnote in royal history—but he would have been a man of learning, someone his father could have been proud of.

  How had he still ended up the clown?

  “Don’t close the club. I would rather have something to do at night.”

  McKay nodded. “All right. I’ll let Ian know. He’ll be happy about that. He needs a night at his club, but you should know he was willing to give it up to protect you. He considers you a friend.”

  “I consider him a friend as well.” His stomach was in knots. He stood up. He needed sleep but he wasn’t sure he would be able to sleep with her in the room. There must be a bench somewhere. “I know you said you’d put together a room for us, but I suspect you didn’t understand the nature of my marriage to Day.”

  McKay’s face was a polite blank. “I’ve been given a full report on the state of your marriage.”

  “It’s an arranged marriage. It was never for love or feelings. It was strictly to secure the crown.” If he started explaining things that way, perhaps he could keep some much-needed distance. He simply had to view his marriage the way it was intended—as a pure exchange of need. He needed a wife. She needed all of his money and power.

  Except she hadn’t really gone out and spent much. He’d overheard her arguing with his mother that she didn’t need a new wardrobe. His mother had been the one to insist that Dayita have what she called a “trousseau.” Day had put her dainty foot down when Mother had suggested that she redecorate the queen’s traditional apartments. Day had claimed it was lovely and all she would need was her desk from home to make the rooms livable.

  “That’s funny,” McKay said quietly. “That’s not what my men observed. I was told you were quite fond of the queen. They said you changed when you met her. You weren’t fighting actively against the marriage once you realized who you were marrying.”

  Somehow things had fallen into place when Day had walked into the room again. His world had seemed brutally cold after realizing his mother was sick. He’d felt alone. And then Day had walked out as though the universe couldn’t possibly take away someone so precious without handing him someone else. Day was the one who encouraged him to talk about his mother. He wouldn’t talk about it, but there had been comfort in knowing she was there if he needed her.

  Why was she there? Why had she done the things she’d done? Taken him down the dark path like some temptress leading him to sin.

  Not sin exactly, but certainly something that could lead to his ruin.

  “I calmed down and accepted the marriage after I realized my mother was dying.” It wasn’t a lie. It also wasn’t one hundred percent truth.

  “Ah, well, Kai could talk to you about that, too. I know you have to be concerned.”

  Numb was a better word. He still wasn’t sure he’d accepted that she was terminally ill. She’d seemed so invigorated by the wedding.

  According to Day, his mother had known about Day’s past. Did his mother think so little of him that she believed he needed some kind of keeper? That he needed a top to show him the way? How his father would have laughed. Poor Kash, always the clown.

  “I’ll handle this on my own. I thank you for doing your job.” He needed to put a good spin on this. He’d made a mistake by showing his irritation with his new bride. They had to present a united front even when he was so angry he couldn’t look at her. He had to think of the crown. Not himself. He had to be the kind of king his father would have wanted. Strong. Dominant in all things. Never wavering. “Now that I’ve had a few hours to think about it, coming here is actually the best thing that could happen to us. We don’t have to pretend we’re in love. Day and I can relax and play without fear that someone will go to the press. You need to understand that if anyone goes to the press…”

  “What you would do is nothing compared to what Ian would do. Trust me. You’re safe here.” McKay closed the folder in front of him. “I’ll let you know if we hear anything from Simon and Jesse. Chelsea and Phoebe have come onto the team as well. Chelsea is searching around the web to see if she can find a hint of anyone talking about harming the king while Phoebe is sitting in on the interviews. She was Agency for years and she’s got excellent instincts. You’re in good hands.”

  He was sure they would find whoever had poisoned his Scotch. He stood up. “Again, my thanks. I’m going to get some sleep.”

  “Of course. The guards are already here. You’re safe.” McKay let him get to the door before speaking again. “You know Day had poured herself a glass of that Scotch before she found the body. It’s why Simon was running so hard down that hallway. He’d seen Jamil fall and your wife enter the room. Your servant was out of her line of sight when she walked in. I’ve seen the video. She was seconds away from taking a drink. Luckily she was pacing and found Jamil. If she’d taken even a sip, you would be a widower today.”

  His stomach dropped at the thought. Day had almost taken a drink? A vision of Day laid out on the floor, her warm eyes cold and unseeing, nearly made him stumble and fall. He’d been the one to send her to that room. He’d been the one to upset her. He’d been the reason she’d reached for the Scotch. She tended to prefer tea before bed. She hadn’t been getting ready for bed. She’d been getting ready for a fight.

  He managed to nod McKay’s way. He’d always hated the fact that palace security required CCTV cameras in the living portions of his suite. His bedroom and the bathr
ooms were the only parts of the palace where he had some privacy. This was one time he had to be grateful. “Thank you for telling me. She didn’t mention it. I’m certainly grateful to Mr. Weston for getting to her as quickly as he did.”

  He walked out the door. He knew the way to the privacy rooms that would serve as his suite while he was here. He took the stairs two at a time but stopped when he reached the third floor landing.

  What the hell was he going to say to her? He wasn’t about to meet with a lawyer.

  He’d almost lost her.

  He was so fucking angry with her.

  If this was what love felt like, Kash didn’t want it. This was a terrible ache in his gut, a pendulum swinging between anger and insane grief.

  He stepped quietly into the room and there she was. Day hadn’t bothered to get undressed, though a gown and robe had been left out for her. She’d simply lain down and fallen fast asleep, her shoes still on.

  What the hell was he going to do with her?

  He shrugged out of his jacket and toed off his shoes. There was another bed in the adjoining room, but he didn’t want to use it. Suddenly, despite the fact that he was angry, he didn’t want to leave her alone.

  Had what she’d done truly been so bad? He was a hypocrite of the first order and he knew it.

  Her eyes fluttered open. “I’ll go to the other bed if you want this one.”

  He found himself sitting at the end of the bed, pulling her feet into his lap as he unbuckled the straps at her ankles and eased the shoes off her feet. “Just stay here. Day, I’m…I was surprised by your background. I wish you had told me.”

  She sighed, a sad sound. “I suppose I knew deep down you would reject me.”

  Something about the lonely sound of her voice softened him. “I can’t live that way. I can’t be that way.”

  For a moment she looked like she would say something, and then she rested her head down again. “And I can’t be anything less than who I am.”

  “Where does that leave us?” He was so tired. He’d been running on anger and adrenaline, and now he was flat out of both. He was a bit hollow, lost as to what he should do.

  “It leaves us where we were before. We can divorce and you can find a more suitable bride, or we can be friends. We can understand that we don’t work as lovers but we might be good partners. If we’re discreet, it could possibly work.”

  The thought rankled but he couldn’t fight more tonight. Today. God, he wasn’t even sure what day it was. He only knew he seemed so far from the man who’d held her hand and promised to honor her forever.

  “Go to sleep. We’ll figure it out.” He wasn’t sure they could figure anything at all out.

  He just knew he didn’t have the strength to yell at her anymore. He lay down beside her.

  “Kash?”

  The bed was soft and he wished he had the right to pull her into his arms. He would be warm if she wrapped herself around him. “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was giving you what you needed.”

  But he couldn’t need those things. He couldn’t let himself even want them anymore. Still, as he lay there, all he could see was the girl she’d been. He’d given her up once for his crown. Could he do it again? How much would being king cost him? He reached out and brushed her hair off her face. She was so lovely. Of all the women he’d been with, why was it only this one who’d ever truly moved him, who’d ever fed his soul? “I won’t yell at you again. I’m sorry. When you wake up tomorrow, we’ll be friends again. All right?”

  A tear slipped from her eye but she nodded. “Friends, then.”

  He watched her until her breathing evened out and she was asleep. Despite the heavy weight of the day, Kash lay there wondering if friends could ever be enough for him again.

  Chapter Eight

  Day looked down at the magazine in front of her, a deep sadness running through her heart. It had been a solid week since her wedding but seeing herself in that gorgeous yellow sari, Kash standing beside her in all his wedding finery, made her ache inside. For the most part she’d been able to avoid news coverage, but she’d walked down to the women’s locker room to use the sauna and someone had left a copy of People magazine, with its cover story on the royal wedding, laying on one of the benches.

  Had it been so little time since she’d been that happy woman?

  “Hey, I was…that’s weird. I was looking for that magazine. It’s not every day you find the celebrity holding the magazine she’s on the cover of. Well, unless you’re my brother-in-law. I swear he keeps his own press clippings around at all times so he can pull out some sexy picture of himself and sign it.” The woman in front of her smiled. She was a bit taller than Day, with a friendly face and a mass of curly brown hair tied back with a black ribbon. She held out a hand. “I’m Kori Ferguson.”

  Day shook her hand. She’d been told Kori might be in and out of the club. She and her husband, Kai, ran a clinic next door. They specialized in helping soldiers with PTSD. It was the kind of thing Day would have usually been interested in. She would have asked a million questions and wanted to know about the science behind their therapies. Now she could barely work up the will to return the woman’s smile. “Dayita Kamdar.”

  Kori stepped back, the smile on her face turning a bit mischievous. “Should I curtsy?”

  The Domme in Day recognized what a righteous brat that one would be. The woman in front of her would likely be fun to play with. Of course, she was sure Kash would see her even thinking the thought as a form of cheating. He didn’t seem to be capable of understanding that play didn’t have to end in sex.

  He also wasn’t capable of seeing how much he needed.

  Day handed over the magazine. “No curtsies, please. I’m trying to be undercover. I don’t think Mr. Taggart would take it well if his staff started curtsying to the royals.”

  Kori snorted lightly. “I’m so not that man’s staff.”

  Naturally, she was offending everyone these days. “I apologize. I meant no offense.”

  Kori shrugged. “None taken. I’m sure Big Tag would call me staff. Then I would do something mean to his locker. Then he would laugh and handle it super well, and Kai would get all pissy and I would find myself tied up and well, you know where it goes from there. Big Tag is surprisingly good natured about practical jokes. I filled his locker with Jell-O once. Don’t even ask. It was a week-long project. I thought he would flip his shit. He laughed hysterically and asked me if I could do it to Adam’s car.”

  It was an interesting place she found herself in. She might have even loved Sanctum had she not felt so deeply alone. “And did you?”

  “Still working on it. So, are you coming to the masquerade night?” Kori opened one of the lockers and stuffed the magazine inside. “Kai and I are getting things ready. I was surprised you haven’t come to any of the play nights. Kai said you were active in the lifestyle.”

  She had to go with the united front she and Kash had agreed on. He’d been true to his word. He’d softened his stance and hadn’t accused her of being a whore or trying to ruin his kingdom again. They’d sat down the day after they’d arrived and agreed that they could make no decisions and do nothing until they figured out who had tried to kill Kash. While they were stuck here in Sanctum, they’d decided they would work on being friends. After the first day, they’d slept in separate beds, kept up different rooms. They’d been polite, but there was a distance between them she’d never felt before. Not when they were together. Somehow, when they were in the same room, there had always been a connection she could feel. It had been cut now, and she wasn’t sure they would ever get it back.

  Kash didn’t seem interested in finding that connection again. He’d spent his time watching movies in the men’s locker room or playing video games with the bodyguards. Day had been left to read or work out, or—worst of all—think.

  “My husband and I are going to keep a low profile while we’re here,” she said si
mply. “We’re on our honeymoon. I think we want to keep things private. You know how newlyweds are.”

  Kori whistled. “Dude, you have to get your stories together. Kash is telling everyone that this is nothing more than an arranged marriage and the two of you have an agreement. He’s planning on playing tonight. One of the things I brought in was a set of leathers for his royal deludeness. Sorry about the dude, Your Majesty. I dude everyone.”

  Kash was planning on playing? Was he kidding? “My husband requested that you bring him a set of leathers?”

  Kori’s eyes went wide. “Whoa. Okay, I believe it now. I didn’t before. When they said you were in the lifestyle, I thought it was kind of like Kash was in the lifestyle. Like you played around a bit, but you would be more of a delusional tourist than anything. I apologize for the rudeness, Mistress Day.”

  She was well aware that she’d likely turned on a dime, but something about Kash going behind her back to play rankled. “I appreciate your acknowledgment, but it isn’t necessary. What is necessary is your honest answer to my question. Did my husband request that you bring him a set of leathers because he intends to play in the club this evening?”

  “Yes, ma’am. If he doesn’t intend to play, then he’s going to be walking around your private suite in a full-on mask tonight. He’s the one who requested the masquerade theme. Everyone wearing some form of costume means there can be a full play night.”

  “There have been several play nights already.” Not that she’d attended them.

  “Yes, but the club hasn’t technically been open to the full membership. It’s only been open to a close-knit group.”

  “Why would that…” The answer hit her square in the gut. “Are they all couples? No single submissives?”

  Kashmir would want a sub. He would want some delicate thing to blink her eyes at him and never complain so he could feel like a man. It wouldn’t matter that the delicate flower couldn’t give Kash what his soul craved. All her husband cared about was his image.