Fortunately she was able to recover herself as the wedding guests clapped and whooped, and the qanun and oud struck up a lively tune as they proceeded back down the aisle.
Everyone seemed happy as they ate and danced and mingled during the lavish reception. Everyone except Alexa, who grew more and more miserable as the afternoon wore on. Prince Rafaele had behaved like a polite stranger during most of proceedings and Alexa couldn’t wait for him to return to London.
Guilt and nerves ate away at her. Guilt that she had somehow caused this whole debacle with her wretched plan to find a temporary fiancé, and nerves because she had a strange premonition that her life would be changed for ever by marrying him.
Which, of course, it would be—but only temporarily.
And what was the shortest marriage on record? If it was two hours she’d surely beat it because she’d like nothing more than to pretend it hadn’t happened at all and end it now.
Badly needing a distraction, she caught sight of King Jaeger, now dancing with his heavily pregnant wife, Queen Regan. Alexa had tried not to like the Queen when she’d first met her, but Regan’s compassion and understanding of how she had felt to be jilted by the King had shone through from the start. It was embarrassing now how Alexa had become tearful when she’d first met the Queen, having had to sit through a dinner watching the man she’d had a teenage crush on stare at a woman he clearly adored.
It was strange watching them now because none of those old feelings she’d had for him seemed to exist any more. She could appreciate his good looks and strong masculine presence but she could no longer see herself by his side. As his wife. Instead she found herself comparing him to her new husband. They both had dark hair and similar eyes and they were both incredibly well built but, as suitable as the King had been as a marriage prospect, he had never drawn her gaze the way Prince Rafaele did.
Alerted by a tingling sensation along the back of her neck, Alexa’s eyes cut across the room to find her new husband watching her closely, his face devoid of emotion. She couldn’t hold the intensity of his gaze, her face flushed as she found herself admiring the cut of his suit that moulded perfectly to his wide shoulders and lean physique.
It was embarrassing how attractive she found him and the only saving grace was that he’d be returning to London some time in the evening. She couldn’t wait for that to happen.
As if reading her desperation for distraction, the King of Santara and his wife approached her.
‘May I have this dance, Princess Alexa?’
Alexa swallowed hard as she gazed at the man she had once thought she would marry. While the awareness of what might have been between them was gone, she was still embarrassed by how easily he had cast her aside.
‘Please,’ Regan encouraged when Alexa automatically turned to her for permission. ‘The wedding was beautiful and I hope we can one day become friends as well as sisters-in-law.’
They were sisters-in-law for now, but not for ever. She was sure the Queen knew, because Rafaele had told her that he intended to explain the situation to his brother so that he could prepare for when their marriage ended. Alexa had only told Nasrin that their marriage was a sham, not wanting her father to know in case he tried to interfere with her decision.
Ignoring the curiosity of nearby guests as they took to the dance floor together, Alexa pinned what she hoped was a convincing smile to her lips.
‘I hope you’re having a good time,’ King Jaeger murmured as they fell into an easy waltz.
‘I am, thank you,’ Alexa returned, keeping her misgivings about the wedding to herself. ‘I only hope this isn’t all for nothing at the end of the day.’
‘I have a feeling it won’t be,’ the King responded enigmatically. ‘Although I must confess my surprise in finding my rogue brother in the position of being forced down the aisle so neatly.’
‘But you know how that came about,’ Alexa said, her voice slightly husky as she gazed into blue eyes that were almost the exact shade as Rafe’s, but which didn’t make her breath catch at all when she looked into them. ‘My father demanded it.’
‘True,’ he mused softly, a knowing glint in his eyes. ‘But not even our father could force Rafa to do something he didn’t want to do if he really didn’t want to do it.’
‘Then he met his match in my father,’ she said dryly.
‘I wonder...’ The King smiled. ‘My brother is not his usual easy-going self today, and he didn’t seem to try all that hard to get out of the wedding.’
As far as Alexa was concerned Rafe had definitely tried to get out of their wedding, and as to his lack of ease...well, that was easily explained. The man had been forced to get married. No doubt that would have wiped the smile off any confirmed bachelor’s face.
‘My dance, I believe.’ Rafaele suddenly cut in, his eyes riveted to where her hand held the King’s.
‘I was just about to tell Alexa how beautiful she looks,’ the King said smoothly. ‘Don’t you think she looks beautiful?’
‘Extremely.’ Rafe’s eyes narrowed on his brother’s, his tone anything but convincing. ‘But perhaps if you devoted this much attention to your own wife she wouldn’t appear so unhappy,’ Rafe prompted lazily, his brow arched.
At that moment a joyous giggle rang out from across the room and they all turned to observe Regan, hand protectively over her baby bump, having a great time with a small group of guests.
‘Yes, I can see she feels terrible,’ the King drawled, his eyes just as mocking as Rafe’s.
The tension between the two men, while not aggressive, was palpable, and again Alexa wondered at the state of their relationship. For two brothers who looked so much alike and who were so close in age they didn’t seem overly bonded, the way she had been with Sol.
Alexa gave Rafe a curious look as King Jaeger strolled from the dance floor in the direction of his wife. ‘What was that all about?’
‘What was what all about?’ He gave her a too-innocent look.
‘You were rude.’
‘Maybe I was jealous.’
‘You? Jealous?’ Alexa nearly snorted at the prospect. ‘Have you ever been jealous before?’
‘Not so far.’
‘I didn’t think so.’
‘But then I’ve never married a woman who was once betrothed to my brother and who gazes adoringly at him every chance she gets. Are you sure nothing ever happened between the two of you?’
The coolness behind his question took Alexa by surprise. ‘Of course not.’ Her incredulous gaze met hostile blue. ‘Your brother is an honourable man.’
‘And I’m not?’
Sensing that his emotions were barely leashed beneath the facade of civility, Alexa moistened her lips. ‘I didn’t say that. But I was unaware that honour was so important to you.’
‘It isn’t.’ The Prince gave her a benign smile that belied the tension emanating from his large frame. ‘As you pointed out previously, I have very different priorities to my brother. That aside, I believe it’s time for us to leave, dear wife.’
It took a moment for her mind to process his words but then she frowned. ‘What do you mean, us?’
‘Generally it denotes oneself and the person one happens to be speaking with.’
‘Don’t be smart,’ she retorted. As far as she had understood, Rafe would head back to London alone, claiming that they would take a honeymoon later on, when time permitted. ‘I’m not leaving with you. That was never part of the plan.’
‘Alas no, but then nor was our actual marriage. But one must improvise.’
‘I’m not big on improvising. And we agreed to delay our honeymoon so that we didn’t have to have one.’
‘Once the international press bought into our love story, I thought you’d realise that we would have to present a united front. You were the one who first mentioned that our people would wa
nt to see us together, if I remember correctly.’
‘Yes, but I was projecting into the future. I can’t leave with you now. I have people to see next week. Meetings to take.’
‘It’s not negotiable, Alexa. I’m not leaving here without you.’
The way he said her name sent a frisson of sensation skittering along her nerve-endings, flustering her. ‘Why can’t you stay here instead?’
The Prince arched a brow. ‘Because it might be a bit hard to open my club from here next weekend—considering it’s in Chelsea.’
‘Oh.’ She hadn’t thought of that. ‘Well, I need more time to think about this.’
‘You have an hour.’
Feeling as if her life was spinning out of control again, Alexa tried to hold her ground. ‘Maybe I can join you in a few days.’
‘Fine. You do that. And while you’re at it you can explain the delay to the press and your father, who happens to be watching us closely.’
Knowing she was defeated because she did not want to face her father right now, Alexa groaned. ‘But I haven’t packed.’
‘Throw an overnight bag together. Anything else you need can be sent on.’
‘How long do you expect me to be gone?’
‘Allow for two weeks. That’s the usual time allotted to a honeymoon, isn’t it?’
‘Honeymoon?’
Her startled gaze met his and something sizzled in the air between them, making it hard to breathe. The room seemed somehow oppressively hot and all Alexa could think about was that blisteringly short kiss at the altar. Her heartbeat picked up and she really wished she knew what he was thinking.
‘Not a real honeymoon,’ he drawled gruffly. ‘Unless that’s what you want, of course.’
For a moment Alexa nearly said yes, and the shock of that realisation was enough to have her vigorously shaking her head. ‘No, no, it’s not.’ She hated how she sounded like a frightened rabbit, but it was exactly how she felt.
‘I didn’t think so.’ He gave her a tight smile. ‘Which is why we’ll spend two weeks in my London apartment. I’ll meet you at the palace airstrip in...’ he checked his watch ‘...fifty minutes.’
Fifty minutes?
That was nowhere near long enough for her to work out how she was going to survive two weeks holed up in an apartment with a man who tempted her like no other, but who couldn’t be more wrong for her.
CHAPTER FIVE
RAFE GREW MORE and more agitated the longer he had to wait on the tarmac for his new wife, his usual cool deserting him. Not that he had to wonder too hard to figure out why that was. He was married. A state he’d thought he’d never find himself in. And okay, it wasn’t a real marriage—but it damn well felt like one, with the ceremony, the two hundred plus well-wishers and the stunning bride.
His heart had all but leapt into his throat when he’d first caught sight of Alexa holding on to her father’s arm at the end of the aisle. Covered head to toe in a lace gown that had outlined every slim curve, her floor-length veil hiding her face, she had been a vision in white.
Over the last couple of weeks he’d told himself that he’d imagined how sensually alluring she was. Exaggerated how potent his response to her was. Then she’d walked towards him with a smooth, graceful stride and he’d known that he hadn’t exaggerated any of it. If anything, he had underestimated her appeal.
A shocking realisation for a man who had decided long ago that he would never let himself be trapped into matrimony under any conditions and now found himself desperately attracted to his wife!
A wife he didn’t want, but who he would neatly use to repay Jag for the debt he’d incurred when his brother had been forced to leave his studies and return to Santara to become king after their father had died. At the time Rafe knew the ins and outs of the palace like no one else and could have smoothed the way for his brother, but he’d been desperate to leave and make his own mark on the world and Jag had seen that.
He’d told him to leave, to go find himself, and so far he’d never found cause to call on Rafe to help out. Something that was a little galling, because he’d told Jag that should he ever need him he’d be there.
But Jag had never needed him. However, his brother had needed a way to repair the relationship between Santara and Berenia and Rafe had seized the opportunity to repay his debt of gratitude by marrying Alexa.
And he didn’t regret it. He hated being in debt to anyone more than anything and doing this for his brother—for his country—would ease his conscience whenever his siblings got up in his face about the way he lived his life.
But that’s not the only reason you married her, a sly voice reminded him.
It was a voice he’d ignored over the past two weeks, burying himself in his latest business endeavour to the point of exhaustion. Now, though...now it was hard to deny that perhaps he’d also been under the influence of a shocking sexual attraction when he’d decided to marry Alexa that had exceeded anything he’d experienced before. That, and a deep-seated need to keep her from Lord Richton.
And who’s going to keep her from you?
Rafe exhaled roughly. Nobody would keep her from him because nobody would need to. He might want her in his bed but that didn’t mean he’d follow through on it. Alexa was not a woman a man toyed with. Not only was she the future queen of Berenia, but she was ultimately looking for something long-term, something permanent, and the last thing he wanted was to sleep with her and give her the impression that he was the right man for her.
Because he was most definitely not that man.
A truth that bothered him, though why it should he couldn’t fathom. He’d never wanted to be any woman’s ‘right’ man. Ever. His life was just fine as it was, even if Alexa believed it to be ‘hedonistic’.
He shook his head. A Buddhist monk probably had a more exciting life than he had of late. Even the Spanish supermodel hadn’t inspired him enough to take her to his bed while they’d been dating.
But Alexa did. Alexa, with her potent combination of steel and sweetness. Alexa who he couldn’t seem to get out of his head. Who lit a fire inside of him that made his body throb with need.
Alexa who he wasn’t going to touch.
And no doubt she’d be happy with that decision if the horrified expression on her face when he’d raised her veil at the altar was anything to go by.
He exhaled a long breath and rechecked his watch. Realistically, he’d only been waiting on her for twenty minutes. It felt like twenty years.
And then finally she appeared from the side door of the palace, looking extremely tantalising in a casual pair of jeans and a lightweight jacket held closed with a zip that begged to be tugged downwards, the cool desert breeze teasing the long strands of her ponytail.
For some reason the tension inside his chest eased at the sight of her. Had he been worried she wouldn’t show?
Irritated at the very idea, he scowled down at her. ‘I hope you have a thicker jacket than that. March in London isn’t exactly warm.’
Jewel-green eyes blinked up at him and he reminded himself that this situation wasn’t exactly her fault so he needed to calm down.
‘I believe Nasrin packed one, yes.’
Her assistant, who stood behind her, nodded enthusiastically. ‘I did, Your Highness. I also know that you stowed your laptop into your satchel before you left.’ She gave Alexa a firm look. ‘No matter who contacts you, your father specifically told me that you are on your honeymoon and therefore not to do any work.’
Alexa stiffened at the mention of their ‘honeymoon’ but then gave her assistant a warm smile. ‘Duly noted.’
Nasrin made an unconvinced sound in the back of her throat, piquing Rafe’s interest in their relationship. Alexa had a reputation for being cool and remote, and yet it was clear that she and this woman shared a strong connection that went beyond simple employee
and employer. There weren’t many things Rafe admired more than those in positions of power treating the people who served them with respect and kindness.
‘Ready to leave?’ he asked, aware that as he spoke her body went stiff with tension. Which irritated him even more. How were they going to convince anyone that their union was more than a marriage of convenience if she turned to stone every time he spoke to her?
Forcing his eyes away from her jeans-clad butt as she preceded him up the stairs, Rafe stopped to speak with his pilot while Alexa buckled herself into her seat. No doubt she wouldn’t be impressed by his plane. He might be a prince, but he wasn’t a king. He couldn’t offer her anything that she didn’t already have.
And why was he even thinking like this? Their marriage wasn’t real. It wasn’t even damned convenient when it came down to it. It wasn’t anything. They were two people who were doing each other a favour. So why did something that wasn’t supposed to be monumental feel as if it was?
The circular nature of his thoughts warred with the constant need to put his hands on her and did little to restore his usual good humour. He wasn’t sure anything could.
Using work to distract himself, he opened his laptop to go over the latest specs on a building he’d just purchased in Scotland. It was a grand old edifice that had once been a cinema and his COO was urging him to tear it down rather than restore it because the cost would be exorbitant. There was something charming about it though and, while he was all about the bottom line, he had an inclination to go in the other direction this time.
He wondered what Alexa would make of it and then scowled at the thought. It wasn’t as if he was going to ask her. He might have to live with her for the next two weeks but that didn’t mean they had to interact. In fact the less they saw of each other the better. Because wanting her was driving him to distraction.
Perhaps he could discreetly settle her into a hotel, then he wouldn’t have to see her at all. Which would work right up until the press got hold of the information and blew their whole ‘love story’ out of the water.
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