He pinned her with that intense gaze of his. Soulful or soulless? Her heart beat with painfully strong thuds.
‘You can’t say no to that, can you?’ he challenged her.
He was questioning her humanity? Her compassion? She stared back at him—he had no idea of her history, and yet he’d struck her with this.
‘If you don’t need it,’ he pressed her, ‘isn’t there someone in your life who does?’
There were very, very few people in her life. But he’d seen. He knew this was the chink in her armour. And while she really wanted to say no again, just to have it enforced for once in his precious life, how could she not say yes?
At the drop-in centre she’d been trying to help a teen mother and her toddler for the past three weeks. Lucia and her daughter, Zoe, were alone and unsupported having been rejected by family and on the move ever since. If someone didn’t step in and help them, Lucia was at risk of having Zoe taken and put into care. Hester had given Lucia what spare cash she could and tried to arrange emergency accommodation. She knew too well what it was to be scared and without security or safety or a loving home.
‘You’re emotionally blackmailing me,’ she said lowly, struggling to stop those thoughts from overwhelming her.
‘Am I?’ He barely breathed. ‘Is it working?’
He watched her for another long moment as she inwardly wrestled with the possibilities. She knew how much it mattered for Lucia and Zoe to stay together. Her parents had fought to stay together and to keep her with them and when they’d died she’d discovered how horrible it was to be foisted upon unwilling family. With money came resources and power and freedom.
Prince Alek sent her a surprisingly tentative smile. ‘Come on, Hester.’ He paused. ‘Wouldn’t it be a little bit fun?’
Did she look as if she needed ‘fun’? Of course she did. She knew what she looked like. Most of the time she didn’t care about it, but right now?
‘You like to do the unpredictable.’ She twisted her hands together and gripped hard, trying to hold onto reality. ‘You delight in doing that.’
‘Doesn’t everyone like to buck convention sometimes? Not conform to the stereotype others have put them in?’
He was too astute because now she thought of those bullies—her cousins and those girls at school—who’d attacked her looks, her lack of sporting prowess, her lack of parents...the ones who’d been horrifically mean.
‘I really don’t want to be used as a joke.’ She’d been that before and was sure the world would see their marriage that way—it was how he was seeing it, right? Nothing to be taken seriously. And she was too far from being like any woman he’d make his bride.
‘Again, I’m not a jerk. I’ll take you seriously and I’ll ensure everyone around us does too. I’ll make a complete commitment to you for the full year. I promise you my loyalty, honesty, integrity and fidelity. I only ask for the same in return. We could be a good team, Hester.’ He glanced again at her desk. ‘I know you do a good job. Fi raves about you.’
Hester’s pride flickered. She did do a good job. And she knew she was too easily flattered. But this was different, this was putting herself in a vulnerable position. This was letting all those people from her past see her again. She’d be more visible than ever before—more vulnerable.
But hadn’t she vowed not to let anyone hurt her again?
‘Working for Princess Fiorella is a good job for me,’ she reminded herself as much as informed him. ‘I won’t be able to come back to it.’
‘You won’t need to,’ he reasoned. ‘You’ll be in a position to do anything you want. You’ll have complete independence. You’ll be able to buy your own place, fill it with cats and books about serial killers. All I’m asking for is one year.’
One year was a long time. But what she could do for Lucia and Zoe? She could change their lives for ever. If someone had done that for her parents? Or for her? But no one had and she’d spent years struggling. While she was in a better place now, Zoe wasn’t.
Hester squared her shoulders. If she could survive what she already had, then she could survive this too. And maybe, with a little change in ‘packaging’, she could subvert that stereotype those others had placed on her—and yes, wouldn’t that be a little ‘fun’?
That long-buried seed unfurled, forming the smallest irrepressible bud. An irresistible desire for adventure, a chance impossible to refuse. She couldn’t say no when he was offering her the power to change everything for someone so vulnerable. And for herself.
‘I think you’ll like Triscari,’ he murmured easily. ‘The weather is beautiful. We have many animals. We’re most famous for our horses, but we have cats too...’
She gazed at him, knowing he was wheedling because he sensed success.
‘All right,’ she said calmly, even as she was inwardly panicking already. ‘One year’s employment.’
Predatory satisfaction flared in his eyes. Yes. This was a man who liked to get his way. But he was wise enough not to punch the air with an aggressive fist. He merely nodded. Because he’d expected her acquiescence all along, hadn’t he?
‘It’ll cost you,’ she added quickly, feeling the sharp edge of danger press.
‘All the money?’ His smile quirked.
‘Yes,’ she answered boldly, despite her thundering heart. ‘So much money.’
‘You have plans.’ He sounded dispassionately curious. ‘What are you going to do with it?’
‘You want your privacy, I want mine,’ she snapped. ‘If I want to bathe in a tub full of crisp, new dollar bills, that’s my prerogative.’ She wasn’t telling him or anyone. Not even Lucia and Zoe, because she didn’t want any of this to blow back on them. This would be a secret gift.
‘Wonderful. Let me know when you want them delivered.’ He looked amused. ‘Shall we shake on it?’
Gravely she placed her hand in his, quelling the shiver inside as he grasped her firmly. He didn’t let her go, not until she looked up. The second she did, she was captured by that contrary mix of caution and curiosity and concern in his beautiful eyes. She had the horrible fear they were full of soul.
It didn’t seem right for him to bow before her and, worse, she couldn’t make herself respond in kind, not even to incline her head. She couldn’t seem to move—her lungs had constricted. And her heart? That had simply stopped.
‘Let’s go get married, Hester,’ he suggested, his lightness at odds with that ever-deepening intensity of his gaze. ‘The sooner the better.’
CHAPTER TWO
ALEK COULDN’T QUITE believe what he’d just established. But that reckless part of him—that sliver of devilishness—felt nothing but euphoria. Here she was. The method by which he’d finally please the courtiers and parliamentarians who’d been pestering him for months. The means by which he’d find his freedom and fulfil his destiny at the same time.
Ms Hester Moss.
Personal assistant. Calm automaton. Perfect wife. Yes, he was going to give his country their most inoffensive, bland Queen. In her navy utility trousers, her crisp white tee shirt, her large-rimmed glasses and her hair in that long, purely functional ponytail at the nape of her neck, she looked least like any royal bride ever. Not tall, not especially slender, not styled and definitely not coated in that sophisticated confidence he was used to. In that sense she was right, she was nothing like the women he usually dated. And that was perfect. Because he didn’t want to date her. And she definitely didn’t want to date him. This would be a purely functional arrangement. No sex. No complications.
She had something better to offer him. She was self-contained, precise, earnest, and—he’d bet—dutiful. She’d be efficient, discreet, courteous and they’d co-exist for this limited time in complete harmony And she wasn’t a dragon or a bitch; she seemed too bloodless to be either. Actually, now he thought about it, she struck him as too controlled, t
oo careful altogether. Irritation rippled beneath his skin. He knew she judged him—hell, who didn’t? But he wanted to scratch the surface and find her faults. After all, everyone had flaws and weaknesses. Everyone had something that made their blood boil. He’d seen it briefly when she’d referenced his ‘lifestyle’, when she’d called him out for being ‘spoiled’, when she’d felt the need to snap no at him.
But he’d just got her to say yes to him and damn if it didn’t feel good. Only now he was wondering why she wanted the pots of gold.
He could pull her file from security but immediately rejected the idea. His father would never have allowed Fiorella near someone unsuitable, so there could be nothing in her past to cause concern. He’d satisfy his curiosity the old-fashioned way. Face to face. The prospect of breaking through her opaque, glass façade and making her reveal the snippets of herself that she seemed determined to keep secret was surprisingly appealing. The only question was how he’d go about it.
Now he had her hand in his and he was gazing into her eyes—a breath away for the first time. Even behind the large-framed glasses, he could appreciate their colour—pure gold, a warm solid hue—and it seemed she wasn’t averse to a little smoke and mirrors because she had to be wearing mascara. Her eyelashes were abnormally thick. Heat burned across the back of his neck and slowly swept down his spine, around his chest, skimming lower and lower still. Startled by the unexpected sensation, he tensed, unable to release her cool hand, unable to cease staring into her amazing, leonine eyes.
‘Alek?’
He blinked and turned his head. ‘Fi.’
His sister was gaping at their linked hands.
He felt a tug and turned back to see awkwardness swarm over Hester’s face. Slowly he obeyed her wordless plea and released her hand.
‘What are you doing here?’ Fiorella stepped forward, her astonishment obvious. ‘What’s going on?’
He drew a sharp breath and slammed into a snap decision. He would do this with supreme discretion. No one but he and Hester would know the truth and if they could pass the Fifi test here and now, they’d be fine with the rest of the world. ‘We didn’t intend to surprise you this way,’ he said smoothly. ‘But Hester and I are engaged.’
‘Engaged? To Hester?’ Fi’s eyes bugged. ‘No way.’
‘Fi—’
‘You don’t even know each other.’ Fi was clearly stunned.
‘That’s where you’re wrong. Again,’ he muttered. ‘We know each other far better than you think.’
‘But...’ Fi looked from him to Hester and that frown deepened on her face. ‘No way.’
He glanced at Hester and saw she’d paled. She shoved her hands into the horrendously practical pockets of her cotton drill trousers and stood eerily still, her façade determinedly uncrackable.
‘Hester?’ Fiorella gazed at her assistant, a small frown formed between her brows. ‘I know you’ve been distracted lately and not as available...’
Alek glanced at Hester and saw she’d gone paler still. His instincts were engaged—what had been distracting her? The whisper of vulnerability prickled his senses.
‘She works for me.’ Fifi pulled his attention back with her quiet possessiveness. ‘And I don’t want you to...mess her around.’
Hester’s eyes widened and colour scurried back into her cheeks. But to his astonishment, a pretty smile broke through her tense, expressionless façade. His jaw dropped and for a moment he had the oddest wish that he’d been the one to make her smile like that. She’d suddenly looked luminous and soft. But then the smile faded and her self-contained neutrality was restored.
‘I’m a big girl, Princess Fiorella,’ Hester said in that careful, contained way she had. ‘I can take care of myself.’
Alek realised Hester had feared Fi disapproved of her. And she was hugely relieved to discover she didn’t.
‘I know you had no idea,’ Hester added as she gestured towards him. ‘But we had our reasons for that.’
Instinctively he reached out and clasped her hand back in his. A stunningly strong ripple of possessiveness shimmered through him. Again acting on instinct, he laced his fingers through hers and locked his grip. For the proof in front of Fifi, right?
His sister now stared again at their interlinked hands, her eyes growing round before she flashed a hurt look up at Alek. ‘Is this because of that stupid requirement?’
‘This is because it is what both your brother and I want.’
Hester’s faintly husky emphasis on the ‘want’ tightened his skin.
‘I’m so sorry to have kept this from you, but it’s been quite...tough.’
‘And I’m sorry for the short notice,’ Alek added as Hester faltered. ‘But I’m taking Hester back with me immediately.’
‘To Triscari? Now?’ Fi clasped her hands in front of her chest. ‘You’re for real? Like really for real?’
That light flush swept more deeply across Hester’s face as Alek confirmed it with a twinge of regret. His sister was young and unspoiled but he found himself watching Hester more closely for clues as to what was going on beneath her still exterior.
‘It’s like a fairy tale,’ Fifi breathed. ‘Oh, Alek, this is wonderful.’
Hester’s hand quivered in his and he tightened his hold.
‘You’re really leaving right away?’ Fi asked.
‘It’s been difficult,’ Alek said honestly. ‘It’s best we get back to Triscari. There’s a lot for Hester to take in.’
Worry dulled the delight in Fi’s eyes.
‘It’s okay. Everything’s in your diary and you can always text me with any problems,’ Hester said earnestly. ‘I can keep answering your correspondence—that’s the bulk of what I do for you and there’s no reason why I can’t continue.’
Alek bit his tongue to stop himself interrupting with all the reasons why she wasn’t going to be able to keep working for his sister.
‘Are you sure?’ Fi’s relief was audible.
‘Hester can help train someone up to take over from her quite quickly.’ He sent Hester a shamelessly wicked smile. ‘After all, you’ll be busy managing your own mail shortly.’
A mildly alarmed look flickered in her eyes before she smiled politely back.
‘Well.’ Fi drew breath. ‘I have to go, I’m late to meet my friend. I only called in to tell Hester I need her to...never mind. I can do it. I’ll leave you to...go.’ She glanced again between him and Hester. ‘I still can’t believe it.’
Fi stepped in and Alek gave her a one-armed hug.
He met Hester’s gaze over the top of Fi’s head and saw the glint of amusement in her eyes. She was very good at managing her emotions and at managing a volatile Fiorella. A volatility he knew he had in common with his sister on occasion.
When Fi left, he released Hester’s hand—with a surprising amount of reluctance.
‘Thank you,’ he said. He needed to focus on the important things. Like fabricating their story. ‘You’re good at lying.’
‘I’m good at saying what’s necessary for self-preservation,’ she replied. ‘That’s a different skill.’
His senses sharpened. Self-preservation? Why was that?
‘You really want us to maintain this “relationship” in front of Princess Fiorella?’ she asked too calmly.
‘For now.’ He nodded. ‘I don’t want to risk any inadvertent revelations and I don’t want her to worry.’
‘She’s your sister, she’s going to be concerned about your happiness.’
‘I thought she seemed more worried about you than me.’ He shot her an ironic glance.
‘She doesn’t need to worry about me.’ Hester gazed down at her desk. ‘I’m fine. I can handle anything.’
He had the odd feeling she could but that didn’t mean that she should. ‘It seems the pretence is under way, Hester. This is your la
st chance to back out.’
She was silent for a moment, but then lifted her serene face to his. ‘No, let’s do this. You should be crowned.’
Really? He didn’t think she was in this for his benefit. She’d become rich; that was the real reason, wasn’t it? Except he didn’t think it was. What did she plan to do with the money?
He frowned. It shouldn’t matter, it wasn’t his business.
But what had she been so ‘distracted’ with lately? Not a man, or she’d not have said yes to him. He’d bet it was someone else, someone she wanted the money for.
He huffed out a breath and willed his curiosity to ebb. He didn’t need to know any more. She was palace employed, therefore palace perfect. Contained, aloof, efficient. She even maintained a polite distance from Fi, who he knew was physically demonstrative. He now realised part of Fi’s shock—and reason for her eventual belief—had been because he and Hester were touching. Fiorella hadn’t hugged Hester when she’d left. He was sure the reserve came from Hester—strictly observing her role as employee, not confidante or friend. Doubtless she was all about ‘professional boundaries’, or something. It was evident in the way she dressed too. The utilitarian clothes and sensible black canvas shoes were almost a services uniform from the nineteen-forties. But her hourglass figure couldn’t quite be hidden even by those ill-tailored trousers. Her narrow waist and curving hips held all the promise of soft, lush pillow for a man...that stability she’d made him think of.
But she made him think about other things too—like why did she live in that prison-like cell of a bedroom? Why was it so lacking in anything personal other than a mangy stray cat, a broken wooden box and a pile of second-hand books?
She was like a walled-off puzzle with several pieces missing. Happily, Alek quite enjoyed puzzles and he had a year to figure her out. Too easy—and there was no reason they couldn’t be friends. He could ignore the unexpected flares of physical interest. If his desperate speed-dating of the last month had proven anything to him, it was that the last thing he wanted was anything remotely like a real relationship. Definitely not a true marriage. Not for a very long time. As for that vexed issue providing his kingdom with an heir...that he was just going to put off for as long as possible. Somehow he’d find a way to ensure any child of his didn’t suffer the same constraints he had.
Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight Page 3
