Their Royal Wedding Bargain

by Michelle Conder

  He frowned at her earnest expression. She was either crazy or... ‘How much have you had to drink, Princess, because you’re not making any sense?’

  ‘I’ve hardly had anything to drink,’ she retorted as if he’d insulted her. ‘I’m perfectly sober.’

  ‘Then that response before was all you?’ He gave her a lazy smile as her cheeks coloured. ‘Good to know.’

  ‘I’d rather not talk about that.’ Her lips pinched together. ‘And, given what just happened, now probably isn’t the best time to discuss my proposal. Could we meet tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow isn’t going to change my mind. Neither will the day after.’

  ‘Look...’ she held her hands up as if to placate him ‘...I’m not talking about a real marriage. I’m talking about a temporary engagement that works for us both. We won’t even have to spend that much time together. We just need to put out a joint statement, go to a couple of events together and break up amicably at a time that suits us both.’

  ‘As far as proposals go, this one is definitely novel, but marriage—sorry, engagement—doesn’t work for me at all. Temporary or not.’

  ‘I know.’ She gave a heavy sigh, tucking a strand of thick silky hair that had come loose back behind her ear. She looked gloriously mussed from where his hands had been and that reminded him of how much he’d like to put them there again. Unwind all that magnificent hair and find out how long it was.

  As if they had a will of their own, his eyes followed her as she paced the mahogany-decked reading room, her gown hugging her heavenly curves as she moved. ‘That’s why I chose you.’

  ‘Chose me?’ He blinked to get his brain back on line.

  ‘Yes,’ she said with the patience of a mother speaking to a recalcitrant child. ‘I need to get married—or at least engaged—and you have all the attributes I want in a fiancé.’

  Curious, Rafe found himself extending the conversation, if only for the amusement factor. ‘Such as?’

  ‘You follow your own rules, you’re completely disinterested in marriage, and your values in life are questionable.’

  ‘Questionable?’

  ‘According to everything that’s said about you, you’re quite the hedonist.’

  Rafe leant against the back of a sofa. ‘Really?’

  ‘I’m paraphrasing. But the point is we’re completely incompatible so it won’t surprise anyone when we don’t go through with the marriage, and no one will be blamed for it not working out.’ Unlike when his brother had called off their engagement and everyone had thought it was her fault. That she hadn’t been woman enough for the King of Santara. ‘It will just seem obvious.’

  ‘I have to confess,’ Rafe drawled, ‘I’ve never had those reasons put forward by a woman wanting me to put a ring on her finger before. Usually it’s more along the lines of: You’re rich, powerful and a prince.’

  ‘Oh, the prince part is important to me too. At least that you’re from Santara.’ She frowned as she perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘Women actually say that to you?’

  ‘I was paraphrasing.’ His eyes glinted mockingly. ‘So why is my being a Santarian prince important to you? I would have thought it was the last thing you would want.’

  ‘My father is convinced that seeing me happily settled will ease the current tension between Santara and Berenia and help our people move forward from your brother breaking our betrothal. He gave me six months to find someone, but I didn’t realise he was serious. Now he’s planning to take matters into his own hands and arrange a marriage that I don’t want.’

  ‘Ah, I’m beginning to see the picture.’

  She let out a slow breath, her narrow shoulders slumping slightly forward. ‘When my father is like this he’s immovable, and I need more time.’

  ‘Hmm...’ Feeling a little sorry for her, Rafe offered up the only solution he could think of. ‘You know you could always say no.’

  ‘No isn’t a word my father understands.’

  ‘Is doormat a word you understand?’

  Her eyes flashed up at him like deep pools of jade backlit by fire. ‘Are you implying that I’m a doormat?’

  Rafe shrugged, enjoying her display of defiance. ‘If the shoe fits.’

  ‘The shoe does not fit,’ she said a little too vehemently. ‘The fact is my father has been through a lot in recent years and I’m not going to add to his problems. And this is partly your brother’s fault. If he had gone ahead with our marriage as he had agreed to do then none of this would be an issue right now.’

  ‘But nor would you have got to kiss me quite so passionately, so there is that.’

  Her feathers well and truly ruffled, the Princess pushed to her feet. ‘You either have a colossal ego or you’re making fun of me.’

  ‘Let’s go with the ego theory. A lot less volatile.’ Rafe crossed to the booze cabinet between two arched bookcases and poured himself a whisky. ‘Drink?’ he asked, holding the crystal decanter up for her to see.

  She set her top teeth into her plush bottom lip, reminding him of how exquisite her mouth had felt under his, and surprised him with a terse nod.

  ‘Dutiful does not equal doormat, you know.’ She moved towards him, careful not to touch his fingers as she took the glass. He gave her a small smile that said he knew exactly how nervous he made her and watched her chin come up in response. ‘Not that I expect you to understand that.’

  ‘I understand it,’ he said curtly. ‘I just don’t adhere to it.’

  ‘Well, you’re lucky. I don’t have that choice.’

  Rafe clinked the ice in his glass, wondering what it was about her he found so enthralling. Because he did find her enthralling—from the way she moved to the feminine lilt in her voice, and definitely in the sexy lines of her body. He suspected that she took life far too seriously, and for some reason he wanted to change that.

  ‘You’re an intelligent, beautiful woman,’ he began, watching her closely. ‘And a future queen. How hard can it be to find a husband?’

  ‘It’s not hard at all.’ She sighed. ‘But finding the right husband is.’

  ‘Do I even want to know what the right husband looks like?’

  ‘Someone kind, compassionate, caring.’ She took a delicate sip of his brother’s hundred-year-old Scotch, shuddering delicately as it hit the back of her throat. ‘Someone I can respect and who will put Berenia first. Someone who has a similar outlook to me.’

  ‘Not looking for someone with a sense of humour?’ he enquired lightly.

  Alexa frowned. ‘That would go under “similar outlook to me”.’

  ‘So none then.’ He grinned as her eyes widened. ‘What about love?’

  ‘I have a sense of humour, thank you very much,’ she defended hotly. ‘And love is not essential.’

  Rafe’s eyes widened at that. ‘I think you’re the first woman I’ve ever heard admit that.’

  ‘Love complicates things and who even knows if it exists? I think it’s made up by Hollywood executives and songwriters trying to make money.’

  ‘And I thought I was cynical.’ Her brow furrowed and his grin widened. ‘That was a compliment, by the way. But what about passion? Surely that’s on your list.’

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not essential either. I’m not the most passionate person on the planet, and respect far outweighs passion.’

  Contemplating what had put her off passion when his body still throbbed at the memory of her mouth opening under his, Rafe gave her a smile that was pure sex. ‘You felt pretty passionate to me before.’

  She moved to sit again on the sofa, unable to meet his gaze. ‘That wasn’t me. I don’t know who that person was.’

  ‘Whoever she was, she was intoxicating.’

  She wrinkled her nose. ‘So will you consider it? I’m not sure how long I have before my father takes the decision completely out of
my hands. And, frankly, I’m desperate.’

  ‘I can see that.’ He was actually sorry he had to turn her offer down. If life hadn’t taught him that he needed to steer clear of matrimonial entanglements at all costs he might even have considered it. But marriage had the potential to inflict pain on the unwary and the innocent. Why would any man deliberately buy into that? Temporary or not. ‘Sorry, Princess, but I’m not that desperate.’

  ‘You won’t even consider it to help improve relations between our nations?’

  Rafe blinked away the dark memories of his past and found himself pinned by a pair of gorgeous green eyes that, if he wasn’t careful, had the potential to suck him in deep and never let him go. ‘See, the problem with that part of your argument is that I don’t care about the issues between Santara and Berenia.’

  She blinked as if he’d just said Down with world peace. ‘But how can you not?’

  ‘I live in London and have done for a decade. I have as little to do with Santara as I can.’

  ‘Then what about to improve your reputation? Being engaged to me would stop some of the gossip. For a while at least.’

  Princess Alexa, he realised, was a real fighter. He liked that. Not enough to agree with her hare-brained scheme, but enough to find that he was enjoying her company. A lot.

  ‘Who said I wanted the gossip to stop?’

  ‘But surely some of the things written about you must bother you.’

  ‘Not particularly.’

  ‘Why is that?’ Her brow pleated as if his attitude was something she couldn’t contemplate. ‘Because it’s all true?’

  Rafe wondered which particular piece of gossip had widened her eyes to the size of dinner plates. Hardly any of it was true but denying the many claims made about him would only give them energy so he rarely bothered. Still, he knew that Alexa didn’t think much of his supposedly ‘hedonistic’ lifestyle and he couldn’t help teasing her a little. ‘Only the really bad ones.’

  Watching the wings of colour heat her cheeks almost made him want to rescind his words so that she’d think better of him. Then he wondered why he cared and remained silent. He didn’t like that he’d already delayed this conversation for the pure pleasure of listening to her speak. Adding to his uncharacteristic behaviour would only make things worse.

  ‘So your answer is no?’

  ‘My answer is no.’

  She blew out a breath and set her glass on the table abutting the sofa. ‘Then there’s nothing more to say.’

  There was plenty more to say, starting with enquiring which room she had been allocated so they could revisit that kiss, the sensations of which were still echoing inside his veins. But instead he said, ‘What are you going to do now?’

  She raised her chin and gave him a look he imagined she gave international dignitaries she had no further use for. ‘Find someone else, of course.’

  * * *

  Find someone else? Rafe scowled at his fogged-up reflection as he stepped from the shower the following morning. Just how many men did she plan to approach with her absurd proposal? And, more importantly, had she found someone who had taken her up on her offer last night?

  He didn’t want that question running through his head but he was unable to banish it. After she had walked away from him he’d spent another hour at the party looking for her, to no avail. Presumably she’d gone to bed, so he had done the same, thinking about her all night as he’d known he would.

  Even though he had no intention of countenancing her proposal himself, he knew that someone would eventually agree to it. What sane man wouldn’t? With that face and body...

  Rafe dropped his towel on the floor and padded back to his room to dress. He’d turned her down, hadn’t he, and he was a sane man.

  Yes, but he was sane and smart. Smart enough to know that her problems were none of his business and that he should let it go.

  And he would. As of now.

  His jet was waiting to fly him back to London and he planned to stop downstairs long enough to grab an espresso, wish his sister-in-law well in her pregnancy and tell his siblings he’d see them some time in the future.

  What he wouldn’t do was think about the beguiling Alexa any more today.

  Pleased to be back on track, he pulled a clean shirt over his head, stepped into his jeans and shoved his feet into his boots.

  Women just shouldn’t go around proposing to men who were basically strangers and expect that it would all work out exactly as they wanted it to. Especially not future queens who looked like cover girls. Alexa was asking for trouble.

  Trouble that had nothing to do with him.

  And why was she back in his head again? So she’d surprised him when so few people did any more—so what? At the end of the day she was just a beautiful woman he’d wanted to take to bed. And she’d wanted to be there too. The way she’d caught fire in his arms...her response to his touch... Grinding his teeth, he zipped his overnight bag closed. What she’d done was drive all rational thought from his head, and kept him up way too long last night.

  But it wasn’t just the chemistry that had kept him awake. It was the puzzle she represented. She’d gone up like a flame in his arms but then claimed that she didn’t have a passionate nature, dismissing the desire between them as an anomaly. And what about her belief that love might not exist? Presumably something, or someone, had put that in her head and he’d like to know who or what. Not that he disagreed with her. He didn’t. He didn’t believe in love either, but something about the way she’d said it made him think that she was either lying to him, or lying to herself. And yet she’d seemed so honest...so sincere...

  Scowling at the procession of questions that wouldn’t say die, Rafe grabbed his phone. Time to push Princess Alexa from his mind and think about something else. Because thinking about her made no sense. She wasn’t someone he planned to pursue—not with marriage on her mind—and added to that she was his brother’s ex, for God’s sake.

  Assailed by a sudden wave of jealousy he’d never before felt for his brother, Rafe nearly put a hole in his pocket shoving his phone into it. He didn’t share his women. Ever.

  And since when is a woman yours after one kiss?

  Leaving that ridiculous question unanswered, he slammed out of his room and made his way to breakfast. He needed coffee before his mood deteriorated any further.

  Refusing to wonder if he’d meet up with the beguiling Alexa, he heard a message arrive on his phone and homed in on it like a drowning man reaching for a life vest. Unfortunately, it was only a stock commodity update and he was in the process of closing it when he nearly barrelled into Jag as he rounded the corner of his private hallway.

  Instantly alerted by his brother’s taut, exhausted expression, Rafe frowned. ‘What is it? Is there something wrong with Regan?’

  Rafe might not have much to do with his brother any more but he could still read him and he couldn’t think of anything else that might put that ragged look on his brother’s face other than his wife, or all-out war.

  ‘No, Regan’s fine. I’ve just come from a meeting with King Ronan and Princess Alexa.’

  Rafe felt himself instantly tense. ‘They haven’t declared war, have they?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Jag’s scowl deepened. ‘But last night a firebomb was thrown into a building site near the border in a show of protest at King Ronan and Princess Alexa attending the charity ball last night. Two of our workers were injured.’

  ‘That’s insane,’ Rafe growled. ‘Why did the King even attend if things are that volatile?’

  ‘We believed it would be a display of unity between us but the Berenians didn’t take it that way. They see my slight of their Princess as the highest insult.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Sorry to burden you with my problems. It was nice seeing you mucking around with Milena. It’s a pity we don’t see each other more often. I know Regan would l
ike it if we did. I would too.’

  Rafe swallowed the lump that suddenly lodged in his throat. He loved his siblings but he wasn’t like either of them; he was a loner. He didn’t require the same level of closeness, or connection, that drove others to forge unbreakable bonds. He didn’t need someone, or something, special and neither Jag nor Milena understood that about him.

  ‘Let’s focus on one thing at a time. What can I do to help sort out the Berenia thing?’

  Alexa’s proposal of the previous night came into his head and he instantly shelved it. Marriage—or becoming engaged—was not the answer here.

  ‘I thought you needed to head back to London?’

  ‘I do. But if there’s something I can assist you with while I’m here then I will. I’m not so obtuse that I can’t see how much you have on your plate right now.’ Not that he expected that Jag would need him. Their father never had. The important issues he’d gone to Jag for counsel. Rafe had been relegated to the lesser duties of opening flower shows or attending state dinners where he was expected to be on his best behaviour to prove what a great parent and leader his father was. Rafe was pretty sure they hadn’t fooled anyone on that score.

  ‘I appreciate the offer but, as I said, I’ve just had a meeting with King Ronan and Princess Alexa. We’ve come up with a diplomatic response to ease the tension.’

  Rafe had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the response. ‘What was decided?’

  ‘You really want to know?’

  Yes, for once he really did.

  ‘Why not? I’m here and I am still a Santarian.’

  ‘Princess Alexa has agreed to a union with Lord Alec Richton of Urbana. I’m not sure when the wedding will take place, but the plan is for Lord Richton to fly into Berenia later in the week for a formal announcement.’

  Rafe’s whole body went still. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me?’

  ‘No, why would I do that?’

  ‘Because it’s barbaric and I can’t believe you’d allow Alexa to be bandied around like a box of chocolates everyone can take a pick at.’