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He laughed. “It’s odd to hear somebody say that. Usually I’m the one who has to make amends.”
“Quite a reputation my future husband has.”
“Actually, that’s the point. The best way you can pay me back is to not marry me.”
She gasped. “I have to marry you!”
He bobbed his head, as if thinking through her comment, then said, “Not really.”
“We have a treaty!”
“Made decades ago.” He caught her gaze. “Were you mature enough at age four to commit to someone?”
He knew the answer to that so she said nothing.
“Of course, you weren’t. And then we pulled the rug out from under you. The prince you were supposed to marry is now married to someone else. You’re not getting the prince who was promised to you. You’re not even getting the good prince, the one who will someday be king. You’re getting second-best.”
She looked at him, wearing a T-shirt with the front tucked into nice-fitting jeans, with his dark curly hair casually messed, and those intriguing brown eyes. For a beat of time, she wondered if she really was getting second-best. Dominic was handsome in the perfect, straitlaced way. This guy? Alex? He was rough-around-the-edges gorgeous. A sexy bad boy. And all hers in a few months—
She swallowed hard as strange tingling sensations cruised through her.
She ignored them. When all was said and done, this was about duty. Oil and safe passage for their tankers trumped which prince she would actually marry. And needing to make herself look strong and loyal to her country trumped both of those.
“I don’t have a choice.”
He walked toward her. “Actually, I read the agreement and the treaty. You might not have a choice. I might not have a choice. But we have a choice. If both of us decide not to marry, we can nullify it.”
She gaped at him. “Nullify a treaty? Just because you don’t want to marry me?”
“I don’t want to get married at all. And we wouldn’t be nullifying the whole treaty, just that one clause.” He sighed. “Look, I rescued you tonight because it’s not right that somebody as pretty as you are should be perceived as an also-ran, the woman who didn’t make the cut.”
Her pulse slowed, then speeded up again. Forget all about Dominic dumping her. Forget about the treaty. Alex thought she was pretty? He was one of the most eligible bachelors in the world and she was a woman whose dad had tossed their family into an unfathomable scandal. Alex should be running from her as fast as his feet would take him. Instead, he thought she was pretty? Too pretty to be known as the princess who didn’t make the cut.
“But I’m not anybody’s knight in shining armor.”
He hadn’t mentioned her father’s betrayal, or the fact that she’d soon become a queen, but she was well aware of both and the consequences. Alex might not want to rescue her, but he was her only option to show her subjects that her family still remembered their call to service.
She lifted her chin. “Like it or not, you have to be mine. Or your country is in violation of our treaty.”
“I told you we can—”
“No! My father disgraced us enough! I have to prove I will do my duties!”
His eyes narrowed. His full lips pursed. “You’re refusing my plan.”
“Yes.”
He stepped closer. Instinct told her to step back. Common sense told her he’d see that as a sign of weakness. So she held her ground, looked him in the eyes, as he circled her, inspecting her as if she were his next purchase. Waves and waves of chill bumps trickled down her spine.
“Why would a girl as pretty as you are want to marry someone she doesn’t really know?”
“I told you I have to—”
“Prove you’ll do your duty,” he interrupted her. “Got it. And I believe that’s part of it.” He stopped at her side and slid his hand under the thick lock of hair that fell over her shoulder to her breast. Running the silken strands through his fingers, he said, “I would think you’d be eager to find somebody your own age. Maybe somebody who shared your interest in land mines and whatnot.”
“First, I’m not part of the land mine fight. Second, you are my age. Five years isn’t that much of a difference.”
He flipped the strand of hair over her shoulder, and the tingles that rained down on her when his fingers brushed her skin nearly made her shiver.
“So you like me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
He smiled knowingly, stepped close. “Just attracted then.”
“To you?” She’d meant for it to sound like a scoff. It came out as a squeak.
“Or maybe you’re simply not clear about what attraction is. Being a virgin and all.”
If the feelings tumbling around her right now were attraction, then he was correct. This crazy combination of fear that he’d touch her again and longing to feel his fingers graze her skin totally confused her. Her chest was tight. Her body wanted to shiver. Even her lips tingled.
“I’ve had boyfriends.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if I kissed you.”
“As a way to get me to drop the idea of marrying you? How badly do you kiss?”
She’d barely gotten the word kiss out of her mouth before he grabbed her by the shoulders, drew her to him and planted his lips on hers. The shock of it buckled her knees. His arm fell to her waist, anchoring her against him as wave after wave of warmth flowed through her. But as quickly as he’d yanked her to him, he released her.
She stared at him. Her nerve endings glowed like the sparks from a Roman candle. She couldn’t quite get air into her lungs.
He grinned.
Not sure what to say, what to do, she fell back on dignity. As haughtily as possible, she said, “I’m still marrying you,” before she turned on her heel and walked out of the stable.
Head high, she marched up the cobblestone path so afraid he was following her that her neck hurt from fighting the urge to look behind her.
When she reached her quarters, she breathed a sigh of relief, though her hands shook and her knees still wobbled.
Her mother awaited her on the sofa. “So how did it go?”
How did it go? In twenty seconds, he’d reduced her limbs to jelly, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t get her heart to stop thumping.
“He doesn’t want to marry me. He says if we both say we want to step away from the marriage, that section of the treaty will be nullified.”
Her mother gasped. “Oh, no! Our family has disgraced our country enough! You have to do something to prove you’re still loyal enough to the crown to do your duty!”
She fell to the sofa beside her mom. “I know. I told him that.”
But convincing him of her duty was only part of her problem. One twenty-second kiss had thrown her for a loop. Made her feel hot and cold. Changed her breathing. Given her chill bumps. When she’d pictured marrying Dominic, the images were warm and sweet. When she thought of marrying Alex, the images became hot and steamy.
And, oh, dear God, she was not a hot and steamy girl.
“Our family has been respected as leaders of Grennady for centuries. But your father has put us in a precarious position. You cannot look weak or wishy-washy. You cannot walk away from a treaty mere weeks before you become queen. The press will crucify you. Your entire reign will be tainted.”
Eva’s brain tried to pay attention to her mom but couldn’t. She couldn’t stop thinking about how experienced Alex was and how little she knew. How did a virgin please a playboy?
Her mother grabbed her hands. “You’ve got to marry Alex.”
Her chest filled with anxiety. There was no good option here. If she returned to her country without marrying Alex, it would appear she had no respect for treaties. If she married Alex, she was so far out of her depth she’d most likely make both of them miserable.
“I don’t think he’s going to give up on trying to get me to bow out.”
“Then you have to make him like you.”
Right. Leave it to her mom to reduce this to something that sounded simple but really wasn’t.
She took a breath. “How exactly do I do that?”
“Flirt. Compliment him. Women have been doing it for centuries.”
Every woman but Eva. In high school, she’d only dated boys who were friends. As an adult, she gone out with men who knew she was promised to a prince and would have thought it odd if she flirted. Worse, Alex had probably been flirted with by the best. If she got it wrong, or was clumsy, she’d make a fool of herself.
Still, she didn’t have options. She had to go through with this marriage. Plus, it would be months before the actual wedding. There was time to fix this. Time for him to get to know her. Time for her to learn to flirt.
She just had to stop being smart with him and treat him with respect—
And Google flirting.
* * *
The next morning at six, Alex’s phone rang. He groaned and rolled over, but when it rang again he recognized the ringtone as his father’s. He sat up, ran his hand down his face and snatched his cell from the bedside table.
“Yes, Father.”
“It’s me, sweet pea,” his stepmother Rose said cheerfully. “Your dad just realized that we never actually talked about the date for the wedding last night, and I thought it would be a good idea for all of us to have breakfast while we chat. So we can keep it light and friendly.”
“Great.”
“Great as in you will be there?” Without giving him a chance to reply, she said, “Thanks. You’re a love.”
She hung up the phone and Alex groaned again. The last thing he wanted to do was set a wedding date when he didn’t want to get married. But marrying a woman who would be a queen? Somebody who’d keep him in the papers for real reasons, not just his winning streaks at the casinos or his escapades with women? Oh, man. That sucked.
Marrying somebody he didn’t know because of a treaty was antiquated. Stupid. And he wouldn’t do it. It was crazy to even consider marrying Eva. No matter how pretty she was.
He rose from the bed trying not to think about how her cheeks turned pink when he teased her or how hot that one quick kiss had been.
Because it had been hot. Ridiculously hot. Kissing someone who clearly hadn’t been expecting to be kissed had been exciting. Challenging—
Hot. The hottest kiss he’d had in forever.
How long had it been since he’d had to woo a woman—
Damn it! He was thinking about her again. And he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about her. He was supposed to be hatching a plan to get her to ditch this wedding.
He headed for the shower determined to get Eva out of his head, but what replaced her almost stopped his heart. The shadowy memory of his mom’s death. His father falling apart. An entire palace full of servants weeping silently as they went about their duties.
He sucked in a breath, banishing the images, but in their place came other, more difficult visions. Memories of being told that his girlfriend, the first woman he’d really loved, had been killed in a boating accident. Vivid recollections of the soul-crushing grief that consumed him for nearly two years.
The loss had been so difficult that as the memories hit, he rubbed his chest to salve the ache always came when he thought of Nina.
Five years had passed, and he had gotten beyond Nina’s death, so he told the images to go away. If his subconscious was reminding him of his mom and his first love because it was worried he could get feelings for Eva, it needn’t have bothered. There was no way in hell he’d fall for a woman just because a treaty said he should. His subconscious could rest easy.
But he knew a royal summons when he got one. He couldn’t refuse his father about this marriage. As a prince who’d very publicly enjoyed his royal lifestyle, he did not have the option of refusing. Eva had to refuse. Then he could tell his dad she was a virgin, and say he didn’t want to force an innocent young woman to marry him. He’d look like the good guy. And his dad would agree.
That was the plan that would work, and that was the plan he was sticking to.
He dressed in lightweight slacks, a pale blue dress shirt—no tie—and navy sport coat, and headed for his father’s elaborate quarters. He entered through the gold-trimmed doors into a foyer with high ceilings and Monet on the wall, and walked to the smaller dining room, the one his father used for informal breakfasts and lunches.
Rose immediately stood, raced to him and hugged him. After being without a mom since he was a boy, having her around was equal parts sweet and disruptive. Up until Ginny had gotten pregnant, this palace had been the home of men. Gold-trimmed and filled with precious art, but still a home of men. No women. No talk of babies or fashions—
“You look very dashing.”
And no one commenting on his clothes unless he was inappropriately attired.
Luckily, he liked Rose. He was just grouchy because of this whole marriage mess. “Thanks.”
“You and Eva will be seated there,” his father said, pointing to the two chairs to his right. “We’ll put your fiancée’s mom on my left and Rose, of course, will sit across from me.”
“No Dom and Ginny?”
“No need for Dom and Ginny to be here,” his father said in his most kingly voice. “You’re the one getting married.”
He felt the noose tightening around his neck.
Escorted by his father’s butler, Eva and her mom entered. Alex’s mouth fell open. If he’d thought Eva a knockout in the red dress, the little white dress she wore tied his tongue. Simple and sweet, with some sort of short pink sweater thing, the dress shouldn’t have made her look sexy. But there was something about the way the pink made her dark hair look even darker—or maybe the way the color set off her pale gray-blue eyes—
Damn it! What the hell was wrong with him? If he was noticing colors, it was definitely time to get out of this thing.
The butler bowed, announced Karen and Eva, and left the room.
Alex automatically pulled out the chair beside his for Eva. His father directed Karen to sit to his left.
As the king’s attention was on offering the seat to his guest, Eva whispered, “Well, don’t you look like the proper man about town?”
“Would you rather I came to breakfast in my robe and slippers?”
She laughed.
