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Oh, boy.
In all of the years she’d studied in preparation for this marriage, she had learned about things like etiquette and social graces, bloodlines and royal custom, but no one ever taught her about this kind of stuff. Sure, it had been drilled in her head that she would be expected to produce at least one heir, preferably more, but all advice stopped outside the bedroom door.
And to say she was a novice was a gross understatement.
Though her high school girlfriends and college sorority sisters often questioned her sanity, she had made the decision a long time ago, even before the arranged marriage, that she would save herself for her husband on their wedding night.
She and Phillip had never kissed. Never so much as held hands. Not that she hadn’t wanted to. But it wouldn’t have been proper. Right now, here in this room, there wasn’t a single thing to stop them.
The idea made her both excited and terrified at the same time. The truth of the matter was, she barely knew him, and that had never been more evident to her than at this very moment.
He leaned forward a fraction and she just about jumped out of her skin. With an amused grin, he asked, “Do I make you nervous, Hannah?”
She took a deep breath, fighting the urge to gnaw her lip. “You’re a king. It is a tad intimidating.”
“I’m just a man.”
Yeah, kind of like The Beatles were just a rock-and-roll band or the Mona Lisa is just a painting.
“I’ve been anticipating this day for a really long time,” she said, hoping her voice didn’t sound as wobbly to his ears as it did to her own.
“Well then, I’ll do my best not to disappoint you.” His eyes searched her face and she wondered what he was looking for. What did he see when he looked at her? Did he know deep in his heart, just as she did, that they were perfectly suited? Was he as excited about the future as she was?
Though her parents insisted she wait until she was eighteen before making the decision to marry Phillip, from the day she met him, she knew that she would someday be his wife. Had he felt it, too?
With all of her dedication and careful planning, how could their life together not be storybook perfect?
“You are beautiful.” He lifted one hand to her face, brushed the backs of his fingers across the curve of her jaw. Her skin warmed and tingled and a funny tickle rippled through her belly. “Does it strike you odd that we’ll be married in two weeks, and yet I’ve never even kissed you?”
“It would have been difficult with the chaperone watching our every move. Of course, that was the point of the chaperone, I guess.”
He leaned in the tiniest bit and her heart went berserk. “There’s no chaperone here.”
“Well,” she said, with a confidence she’d dredged up from God only knew where. “I guess now is your big chance.”
A grin curled his mouth. He slipped his fingers across her cheek, cupped her face with one large but gentle hand, and goose bumps broke out across her skin. “I guess it is.”
Two
Maybe it wasn’t proper, but as he leaned in she felt herself tipping forward to meet him halfway. Since she was sixteen years old, she had imagined kissing him, so sue her if she was more than a little enthusiastic.
Her eyes slipped closed and she felt the whisper of his breath, then his lips brushed hers…
Across the room the doors flew open and Hannah was so startled, she shot to her feet.
Phillip sighed and sat back on his heels. Leave it to his sister, Sophie, to kill a moment.
Sophie merely smiled.
He rose to his feet to stand beside his fiancée. She was red-faced with embarrassment, or maybe arousal. Or perhaps a bit of both. “Hannah, you remember my sister, Princess Sophie?”
“Of course,” Hannah said, executing a flawless curtsy. “It’s so nice to see you again, Your Highness.”
“As I’m sure my brother will tell you, I don’t care much for titles.” She offered Hannah her hand for a firm, very unroyal shake. “From now on, it’s just plain old Sophie, okay?”
Hannah nodded, her lip clamped between her teeth. A habit he found rather charming. If it weren’t for his sister and her most inconvenient timing, he might be the one chewing that plump, tender flesh.
“I wanted to let you know that the receiving line has been moved to the foyer,” Sophie told him. And added with a wry grin, “If you’re ready, of course.”
He turned to his bride-to-be. “Hannah?”
“Is there a powder room I could use first? I have the feeling I gnawed off the last of my lipstick.”
“Of course.” He gestured to the door. “Right through there.”
“I’ll try to hurry.”
“Take all the time you need.”
He watched her cross the room, noting that in spite of her apprehension, she carried herself with the utmost grace and dignity. It was hard to believe it had been two years since their last meeting. And the fault was entirely his own. Since his father’s death he had been too busy to give his impending marriage much attention. There wasn’t even supposed to be a marriage for at least another year. Not that he would be any less opposed to the idea then, as he was now.
If it were up to him, he would never tie the knot. The idea of being chained to a single woman for the rest of his life sounded so…claustrophobic. But he had a duty to his country. One that he did not take lightly.
And unlike his father, from whom Phillip had inherited his restless nature, he intended to be faithful to his wife.
“You certainly don’t waste any time,” his sister said. “Although, in the future, you might want to lock the door.”
He shot her a warning look.
“It’s a good thing the powder room has only one exit,” she said. “Or I fear your betrothed might just make a run for it.”
He wouldn’t even justify that with a response. “Surely you have something better to do.”
Sophie grinned. There was nothing she loved more than ruffling his feathers. From the time she was old enough to form words, she had been the consummate, bratty younger sister.
“Your intended is quite lovely,” she said.
“Yes, quite,” he agreed. Everything a king could want or expect in a wife.
Though at first the idea of an arranged marriage had been archaic even to him, at the insistence of his mother—who had rejected the concept of the word no, unless, of course, she was the one speaking it—he had flown to the States to meet the young woman.
It had been clear to him immediately that at the age of sixteen Hannah already possessed great potential. Despite the eight-year age difference, he found her undeniably attractive. And he could see that the feeling was mutual. And even better, were he to acquiesce, it would keep his parents off his back. At his own request, future meetings were arranged, and plans for a courtship were set in motion.
By eighteen she had blossomed into a woman of exceptional beauty and poise, and their feelings had matured from ones of sexual curiosity to intense physical attraction.
She was everything a king could want in a mate, and right now her innocence, her eagerness to please, appealed to him. Sadly, he was easily bored and quite sure that the novelty would soon wear off.
“Do you think she has the slightest clue what she’s getting herself into?” Sophie asked.
“The slightest.” There was only so much she could learn from a book or a tutor. The rest would come through experience.
“While I have you here, I was hoping to have a word with you.”
He felt an argument coming on. “If this is about what I think it’s about—”
“He’s our brother. You could at least hear him out.”
“Half brother,” he said firmly. A product of their father’s infidelity. “I owe him nothing.”
“What he is proposing would ensure the stability of our empire for generations.”
“And his own, no doubt.”
She looked at him as though he were loony. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“If it’s the crown that concerns you, he wants no part of it.”
Not unlike Sophie, he thought, who had spent the better part of her twenty-five years expressing her dislike of the monarchy’s rules. But in the case of their half brother, Ethan Rafferty, their father’s blood ran through his veins. As a result, he did have a claim to the crown. If something were to happen to Phillip, he would be next in line.
For Phillip, that was unacceptable.
“I won’t discuss this,” Phillip told her. “Period.”
Her cheeks flushed with frustration. “Bloody hell, you’re stubborn!”
She was one to talk. “That distinction, dear Sophie, is not limited to me.”
The door to the powder room opened, and Hannah emerged. Grateful for the interruption, he crossed the room to meet her. “Feeling better?”
Hannah nodded. “I think I’m ready to do this. And I’m sorry again for getting so freaked out.”
“Were you?” Sophie asked from behind him. “I’m quite sure no one noticed.”
Hannah cracked an appreciative smile. The first one he had seen since she arrived.
He offered his arm to her. “Shall I escort you?”
She looked from his arm to the door, then took a deep breath. “I appreciate the offer, but I think that after what happened outside, it’s important that I stand on my own two feet.”
“As you wish.” He opened the door for her and watched, feeling an unexpected surge of pride as she swept out into the foyer.
Sophie stepped up beside him and, in a quiet voice, said, “Impressive.”
“Indeed.”
“You think she’s ready for this?”
He nodded, and said with genuine honesty, “I do.”
“I agree,” she said. “The real question, Your Highness, is are you ready for her?”
This day turned out to be, by far, the most demanding, frightening and exciting in Hannah’s life. After the receiving line, which in itself took the better part of an hour, they attended a luncheon in her honor. Following a meal she had been too self-conscious to do more than pick at, she and the king mingled with dozens of state officials and their spouses. So many, in fact, that remembering all of their names would take nothing short of a miracle.
After lunch there was a photo shoot in the garden, followed by a short press conference in which she and the king were bombarded by the reporters with questions of her background and education, how she felt about becoming queen, their upcoming nuptials and the plans for the gala to celebrate the country’s 500th anniversary.
To stand beside the king, to feel the air of confidence and supremacy all but spilling from his pores, was as fascinating as it was intimidating. He was the most powerful man in the country and he embraced the designation. And for what wasn’t the first time that day, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d gotten in way over her head. Years of training and preparation and still she felt overwhelmed. She knew though, had her father been there, he would have been so proud of her, and that was all that mattered.
She endured another exhausting evening meal shared with a new blur of names and faces she barely had a hope of remembering, although there was one woman she recognized from earlier in the day. And only because of the way she watched Hannah so intently. She was dark and very beautiful, close to Hannah’s age, if not a year or two older. She had the kind of voluptuous figure that turned men’s heads. Hannah considered going to talk to her, but that would require leaving Phillip’s side, and she wasn’t ready to do that yet. But every time Hannah looked her way, the woman was watching. Shamelessly and blatantly. But just as Hannah began to feel uncomfortable, the woman vanished. She craned her neck, checking every corner of the room, but didn’t see her.
That was odd. And she couldn’t shake the feeling she had imagined her.
After another hour of small talk and chatter, the king finally bid the guests good-night and offered to escort Hannah to her suite.
She was so exhausted, the thought of collapsing into bed made her want to weep with relief.
Offering his arm, Phillip led her to the private residence at the north end of the palace. Though it may have been used only by the family and limited staff, it was no less luxurious than the common areas. More modern, and not nearly so formal, but dripping in extravagance and style. Her parents’ estate in Seattle was by no means small, but wealth of this magnitude was foreign to her.
It would take some getting used to.
The instant they were inside with the door closed, he unfastened the button at the collar of his jacket and, just like that, transformed back into the less intimidating version of himself—the compassionate man who had whisked her up the palace steps and inside to the sanctuary of the library.
“You did well today,” he told her.
“To be honest, it’s all a bit of a blur.” And all she could comprehend at the present moment was the pain in her feet. The desperate need to kick out of the pumps the salesgirl had assured her would spare her any discomfort. Like walking on a cloud, my foot.
“Would it be possible to get a photo and bio of the government officials?” she asked.
He regarded her curiously. “What for?”
“So I can learn their names. I met so many people tonight, I have no hope of remembering them all and I don’t want to appear rude. That should include information of their spouses and families as well. I’m assuming you can do that.”
The king looked surprised and impressed. “Of course. You’ll have it first thing tomorrow.”
They stopped outside what she assumed was her suite. “I have to apologize for the temporary accommodations,” he said. “This suite is somewhat small.”
She didn’t care about the size. So long as it had a tub to soak in and a bed to melt into, he wasn’t going to hear her complaining. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
He opened the door. “You’ll stay here while the permanent suite is being renovated. In fact, I believe you have an appointment with the decorator tomorrow afternoon.”
She didn’t want to think any further ahead than a hot bubble bath, but as he led her inside, she found herself facing three more new faces. Two were dressed in formal black-and-white maid’s uniforms and the other in a modest, navy-blue pinstripe business suit.
“Hannah, I’d like to introduce you to your staff. Miss Cross and Miss Swan, your personal maids, and your personal assistant, Miss Pryce.”
All three curtsied and said in unison, “My lady.”
She smiled and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
