The King's Bought Bride (Royal House of Leone Book 1)

by Jennifer Lewis

  Darias leaned toward her, fixing her with his dark stare. “Do you want to look back a few years from now and realize that you had a chance to send your brother to the best rehab facility in the world, and you turned it down?”

  She swallowed. He had a point. “But I don’t know anything about pretending to be queen. I’m from South Orange, New Jersey. I barely know which fork to use.” She gestured at the forks on the white tablecloth.

  Darias snorted. “That stuff is easy. You can pick it up in an afternoon. It sounds crude, but you look the part and that probably is more important than anything.”

  Her back stiffened as his eyes traveled over her face and neck. “Won’t they be expecting you to marry an aristocrat?”

  He shrugged. “Beauty trumps titles. And even royal families aren’t as old fashioned as they used to be. Look at William and Kate in England. She’s not an aristocrat.”

  Emma felt her chest grow tighter. “One year exactly?” Twelve months. Was it really that long? “And you’d pay for my brother to stay at The Fountains for that entire time?”

  “As long as he needs to be there. And I’d pay you one hundred thousand dollars up front on the signing of the contract, to do whatever you like with, and another hundred thousand at the end of the year. In the meantime, all your expenses will be taken care of and you’ll have a generous allowance for clothing, entertainment, anything you want.”

  She felt ill. Was she seriously considering this? From what she’d read and heard about Darias he seemed like a decent guy. Heck, a lot of women would probably kill for this opportunity. A hundred thousand dollars was a lot of money. It would take her years to save that much at her job. Not that she could ever manage to save anything with Jonas borrowing and wasting every cent she earned. And she’d be getting two hundred thousand in total—and living for free for an entire year.

  And Jonas—if he could get off drugs it would transform both of their lives.

  “You’d have to keep it a secret from everyone, even your parents.” Darias looked so calm. “You’d never be able to tell them the truth.”

  “My parents are both gone.” It was hard to say, even now, when her mom had been dead almost a year. “My brother is my family. I couldn’t tell him the truth either?”

  “You could just tell him that you fell madly in love with me.” The twinkle in his eyes showed that he found the situation amusing. “Do you think he’d find that hard to imagine?”

  She looked at Darias, gorgeous, rich, royal and dangerously charming. “No. But what if he won’t go into rehab? I couldn’t leave unless he was safely there.”

  “I’ll talk to Licia, my friend who owns it. I’m sure she’ll have a solution. They kidnapped Katie Reese when she was at her lowest, and now she’s up for a Tony. I know they pride themselves on working miracles.”

  Emma let out a long, slow breath. One year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. She’d survived hard times for a lot longer than that.

  “You’re thinking about it.” Darias looked pleased. The waitress came over, and he shocked her by ordering for all three of them—in Italian. “I didn’t want you to be distracted by another decision. Trust me, I will take care of your every need during this one year.”

  “That’s a big promise.” How did he know what “needs” she would have? She certainly didn’t.

  “I don’t shirk my commitments. That’s why I need a wife on short notice. Do you think I really want to leave New York City and go live in an ancient castle? It’s my duty. You can trust me to do my duty to you.”

  “You don’t even know if I’m crazy.”

  “Are you crazy?” He didn’t look that worried.

  “Aren’t we all deep down? I mean, why does a wealthy prince feel the need to make art? That seems rather eccentric.”

  He laughed. “I suppose I prefer to think of myself as creative, but eccentric will do. Do you have any eccentricities?”

  “I don’t have time for eccentricities. I work full-time teaching fourth graders, then I work at the gallery three evenings a week. If I can buy groceries, keep my apartment clean and catch a few moments to escape into a book, I count myself lucky.”

  “In Altaleone you’d have time to pursue your interests.”

  “I’m not even sure I have any interests.” She didn’t want him getting the idea that she was some kind of mysterious damsel with hidden depths.

  “Maybe you’ve just never had the luxury of enough time and resources to find out.”

  The waiter bought their food, a gleaming slice of meat among brightly colored vegetables, with a side of pasta in fragrant pesto. Her stomach growled. She’d only had time for a granola bar at lunch. “This looks wonderful. But what if I was vegetarian? You didn’t even ask.”

  He frowned slightly. “If you were vegetarian, surely you’d have told me.”

  “Are you kidding? I’d be too intimidated.”

  “Nonsense. You radiate a quiet confidence that can be seen for miles. Doesn’t she, Sandro?”

  Sandro looked up from his plate and nodded in agreement. “You already look like a queen, too. That goes a long way.”

  Emma frowned. “What does a queen look like? I’m picturing an elderly lady with a bouffant hairdo and a Hermès scarf.”

  “That does sound somewhat like my grandmother Queen Sofia.” His dark eyes filled with sadness. “Who died a few days ago. But my brother means that you are naturally regal in the way you carry yourself. You are tall, with strong but elegant bone structure and the kind of beauty that has inspired artists throughout the ages.”

  He spoke softly, and his words had the effect of making heat rise to her cheeks. Which was just annoying! People had been telling her for years that she was pretty, but that didn’t butter any biscuits where she came from. All it did was invite unwelcome attention from unsuitable men. She downplayed it by never wearing makeup and keeping her hair in a ponytail most of the time. “I guess I should thank you for the compliment. But how come you’re the heir? You’ve mentioned your mother. Why doesn’t she inherit?”

  “My father would have been the one to inherit. He was next in the royal line, and in the event of his death the crown passes to the next blood relative in the Leone line—me. My father was found dead on the same night as my grandmother. Don’t you watch the news?”

  “No. I don’t have time. I figure if a war breaks out someone will tell me. What happened?”

  “No one knows exactly.” His face darkened. “My grandmother was suffocated. My father was stabbed through the heart with an ancient dagger.”

  Her eyes widened. “They were murdered.”

  “It appears so, though some are saying it was part of a ritual. The circumstances are…mysterious. The police are still analyzing the evidence.”

  “That’s horrible. And sounds dangerous. Are you worried they’ll try to kill you, too?”

  “I find worry to be a waste of time. Perhaps for the same reasons you don’t bother to watch the news. Why give energy to something that isn’t important to you? I do, however, intend to find out exactly what happened and who is responsible. Every moment I spend in New York is time where the trail grows cold.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “I have a commitment to Keane Moss. He’s represented my paintings for five years, and I owe him a lot. I’m here to open this show, which has been in the works for over a year, and then I’ll be leaving.” He paused and his gaze trapped hers. Then he reached across the table. Her skin stung with awareness as he wrapped his fingers around her hand, which had been resting by her water glass. “And I sincerely hope that you’ll come with me.”

  Her phone pinged. “Excuse me.” She was glad of an excuse to snatch her hand back. Already her heart beat faster and her breathing grew shallow. She pulled her phone from her purse and her heart flew to her mouth when she saw Jonas’s name next to an all-caps message.

  NEED MORE $. FORGOT ABOUT INTEREST. HAVE UNTIL TOMORROW. CALL ME ASAP. LOVE YOU.

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nbsp; Her heart sank. There seemed to be no end to the trouble her brother could get into. And she’d already have to wait for her next paycheck just to make her rent. People said she should serve him some tough love, but how did she do that when he was all she had? “One hundred thousand, up front, you said.”

  “Yes.” His eyes brightened. “And another at the close of the year.”

  “How can you be sure The Fountains will take my brother?”

  “Let me call Licia.” He whipped out his phone, explained the situation, and booked Jonas in—starting tomorrow at nine A.M., without even consulting her. Then he hung up and pocketed his phone. “It’s all arranged.” The tiniest hint of a smile tugged at his arrogant mouth.

  Her brother at The Fountains tomorrow morning. This could be the big break that turned everything around for him. She’d have enough to pay off whatever stupid debts he’d racked up and money to save. She could put her stuff into storage for a year and give up her apartment, which was drafty and noisy, anyway.… “I’d need to see the contract. The one between us.”

  He pulled his phone out again and pushed a button. “Greg, can we meet tonight?” He explained the situation to his lawyer and made plans for them to head straight to his office, despite the late hour.

  She wanted to protest that she should go back to the gallery first, but Keane probably needed her to keep Darias away until the show was rehung, which might take another hour or two.

  She swallowed hard. One year. And it wasn’t like she’d be in prison. She’d get to see another part of the world. “I’ve never even left the U.S.” It felt important to make it clear to him that she was not as sophisticated as she apparently appeared.

  “Then it’s about time you did.” He paid the bill with an air of satisfaction. “The gallery opening is tomorrow night, and we can leave for Altaleone first thing in the morning.”

  They split from Sandro, and Darias drove her to his lawyer’s midtown office in his big Mercedes G-Class SUV. Already she felt like she was being whisked off to…something. Riding up in the mirrored elevator, she felt self-conscious—dressed like a kid in the black jeans, black T-shirt and black Converse sneakers that were her unofficial uniform at the gallery. Darias wasn’t formally dressed, but expensive Italian designer casual was a whole different groove.

  The young lawyer maintained a poker face as Darias described his outrageous plan. He did take a good long look at Emma, though, and she felt as if her skin might peel right off under his cold, analytical gaze. “It’ll take me an hour or so to research a couple of matters and get something typed up.”

  Darias took her to a nearby bar, where she stuck strictly to plain tonic water. She was a lightweight at the best of times and wanted to read—and sign—the contract with a clear head. Her brother had called her three times and left messages while they were in with the lawyer, and she finally called him back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Jesus, Emma! Why are you ignoring me?” Jonas sounded jittery and panicked over the phone, as usual.

  She glanced around to make sure no one in the bar was staring, then no attempt to hide her exasperation from her voice. “I sent you fourteen hundred dollars tonight, Jonas. And now you say that isn’t enough! Or are you calling because you’re ready to pay me back?”

  “This is serious! These guys are the real deal. I paid back what I borrowed, but they want another eight hundred. Can’t you sell Mom’s engagement ring?”

  “I already pawned it two months ago. Do you think I’m made of money?” It had half killed her to see her mom’s modest ring go, but then her parents had never actually been married, so how much did it mean? And she knew her mom would want her to help Jonas. “But listen, I have a plan. Are you at home?”

  “Yeah.” He lived in a walkup in Hell’s Kitchen with two other wannabe actors. They weren’t all that far from there right now.

  “I can give you all the money you need to pay back the debt, on one condition—”

  Darias grabbed her hand, startling her and making her look up at him. He held a finger to his lips, reminding her to keep their whole plan secret. She nodded.

  “I’ll give you the money tonight if you agree to go into rehab at The Fountains tomorrow morning at nine A.M. You’ll have to stay with me all night, though, because I don’t trust you not to disappear.” It hurt to be so cold to him, but she’d been burned before.

  “The Fountains costs a fricken fortune, sis. Did you win the lotto?”

  How could she explain this? Presumably, the whole world would soon know she was marrying Darias. But until she’d seen and signed the contract, she didn’t want to let any cats out of bags. “I have something going on in my life, Jonas, that I haven’t told you about yet. I’ll tell you tonight, if you’ll stay with me, then go to The Fountains.”

  “Are you messing with me?”

  “I’m not. You have to take this seriously.” She wanted to tell him that this could be his last chance to turn his life around, but Jonas didn’t respond well to pressure. “They’re professionals who help people with addictions all day long, but you have to commit.” If he didn’t, there would be no point in going along with Darias’s wild plan. “Things keep getting worse and worse for you. I’m worried you’re going to wind up dead.”

  “I tried to quit. But then Danny came over and…”

  “At The Fountains you’d be away from all the people who’d try to drag you under. It’s a chance to get your life back.”

  She could almost hear him thinking, while tapping his fingers nervously on something, the way he did when he was strung out. “Okay. Deal. I’ll do it if I can get the money tonight.”

  “And I’m coming with you to drop it off.”

  “No way, sis. These dudes are heavy. You don’t want to go anywhere near them.”

  Darias took her hand again, and she looked up. “I’ll go with him,” he mouthed.

  Her eyes widened. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll call you within the hour. Stay home. Don’t go anywhere or do anything until you hear from me.” She hung up.

  Darias lifted a brow. “I overheard. Of course you can’t go with him.”

  “And you can?”

  He shrugged. “I have security.”

  Forty-five minutes later she was inking her name to a surprisingly short contract in which she agreed to be the legal wife of Darias Xavier Augustin Leone of Altaleone, and to perform all offices required to convince both family and the public that there was indeed a legitimate and loving union for the period of one year and one month. (The lawyer had pointed out that the year couldn’t start until after the wedding—which would take place in Altaleone—and Darias had thrown in another fifty thousand dollars for the extra month or so that would require.) She was pledged to absolute secrecy, both now and forever, and if she broke the contract at any point she’d be legally obliged to return all the money. The first portion would be wired into her account tomorrow as soon as the banks opened.

  A single paragraph committed the funds for her brother to remain at The Fountains until such time as she returned to the States, or he was considered by their expert staff to be free of his addiction, whichever came first.

  “I feel like I just signed my life away.”

  “You did.” He smiled. “But only for a year. You’ll get it back. And I’m deliriously grateful for your sacrifice. Let’s go find your brother.”

  In less than twenty minutes, they were climbing the steps to Jonas’s walkup. He opened the door looking harried. “You got the money?” Then he noticed Darias.

  “I have a surprise, Jonas. This is Darias.” She pushed an attempted smile to her lips. “We’re getting married.”

  “What?” Jonas looked confused for a moment. Then he shoved a hand through his tangled hair and stared at Darias. He thrust his hand out, and Darias shook it.

  “Pleased to met you, Jonas.” Darias didn’t smile.

  Jonas stared at her. “Does he…know?”

  “About the money? Yes. An
d he’s arranged your stay that The Fountains. I’m very thankful.”

  Jonas looked doubtful. “You do have it, though, right? The eight hundred. Because they just called again. They want it by nine.”

  “It’s not easy to get that kind of money at night, Jonas,” she said. She was so angry with him, and she didn’t want to make it too easy. She’d just introduced the man that—for all Jonas knew—she planned to spend the rest of her life with, and he barely acknowledged him. “My ATM won’t give out that much at once.”

  “Shit.” He shoved a hand through his hair again.

  “But we have it,” said Darias. “Let’s go.”

  Darias had arranged for two members of his personal security staff to tail them to the location. One would go in with Jonas and escort him out again. Darias wanted to go himself, but Emma persuaded him that he might be recognized if news of his family tragedy had been circulating.

  By 9:45, Jonas’s debt was paid. Darias went home to his loft in Soho, and she went back to Jonas’s place to help him pack. One of Darias’s security guards stayed outside as a precaution. She told Jonas she’d be living abroad with Darias, and that she’d store his stuff with hers until he needed it. Since he’d sold nearly everything he’d ever owned to buy drugs, his worldly effects fit into three cardboard boxes from the liquor store, and the security guard loaded them into the back of his SUV.

  “This is weird, sis. I can tell your new man is loaded. Is he mobbed up?”

  “No.” At least she didn’t think so. She only knew what she’d read in the media like everyone else. “He’s from a small country called Altaleone. I’ll tell you more about it after I move there.” She didn’t want to reveal that her future husband was royal. Jonas would find that out soon enough, and it would be better if he was safely in rehab before he considered the enticing financial implications.

  She stayed up with him all night—not that she would have been able to sleep, anyway—then they went out for breakfast at a nearby deli. At five to nine they were climbing the polished white marble steps of The Fountains at an exclusive address on the Upper East Side.