Crowning His Convenient Princess

by Maisey Yates

  A prickly, intoxicating beauty.

  One that had resisted him far longer than anyone else ever had. One that made his heart beat faster. Made it feel like his body was on fire, and how long had it been since a woman had interested him in such a way?

  He couldn’t remember.

  His image was a blur of glitter, golden brown and red lips. Latika was the only woman in his memory. The only woman that he wanted. He knew that his kiss was pushing the bonds of propriety for a royal wedding—many royal couples did not engage in physical affection such as this, even during the wedding ceremony.

  But he didn’t care.

  As far as he was concerned, being a married man was more legitimate than he had ever intended to be, and he wouldn’t be denied this pleasure. Not now. Not now that he finally had her—Latika—beneath his lips.

  And it was only a taste. Only a taste of what was to come later. He wanted her. My God how he wanted this woman. It defied everything. Every basic idea he’d ever had about himself.

  The world that he lived in where women were interchangeable and one soft body was as good as the next.

  Except, no one would do but her. Not now.

  When they parted, he was breathing hard. Latika, for her part, was a blank space.

  The priest pronounced them man and wife, and he and Latika held onto each other’s arms, and walked down the aisle. Once they were free of the audience, free of the church, she jerked away from him.

  “How dare you not tell me my parents would be here?”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I miscalculated your response to that. I did not think it would matter.”

  “How could you think it wouldn’t matter? I haven’t seen them in more than three years.”

  “I thought it wouldn’t matter because I thought you were a woman of some intellect. One who understood that sometimes the benefits to something outweigh the potential costs. If your parents feel that this marriage will give them more than what your marriage to Ragnar would give, then they will engage in the protection of it as well. You no longer have anything to fear from them. However, should we have excluded them from the happy event, I fear that they might have retaliated. It is all about ensuring that this gives them more than he could have. You must understand that.”

  She looked away from him, her throat working. “I understand. But you should have told me.”

  “Perhaps you should have warned me that we were going to get engaged two weeks ago.”

  “I didn’t know...”

  “And I simply made a decision when it came across my desk, Latika. One that I thought was best.”

  “I can’t stand this. I can’t stand this.” She exploded, all her reserve gone now. And not in the way he’d wanted. “None of my life is in my control. And I fear that it never will be.”

  “Are any of our lives ever in our control?”

  “You’re a prince,” she sputtered, straightening her hands down at her sides, smacking against her full skirt. “You’re a man. You have full control over your life. Control to disobey. Control to do whatever you like.”

  He grabbed hold of her arm and drew her close, something inside of him snapping. “You have no idea what my life has been like. You have no idea what I have been allowed to do, and not allowed to do. Or why I have made the decisions I’ve made. Do not speak to me about all the freedom you think I have.”

  He released his hold on her then, as the doors to the sanctuary opened, and Astrid appeared. Along with Mauro. And their child.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Gunnar surprised me with a visit from my parents,” Latika said, her tone wooden.

  “I thought you knew,” Astrid said.

  “No.”

  Astrid treated him to an icy glare.

  “I refuse to stand in between the two of you when you do that,” Gunnar said. “I’m not a naughty child to be scolded. I made a decision that I thought would best protect my wife, Astrid. I will thank you to not undermine me.”

  His sister looked shocked, but said nothing.

  “We are also not attending the reception,” he continued.

  Astrid looked doubly shocked at that. “What?”

  “We are going away on our honeymoon. My wife clearly doesn’t wish to be bothered by her parents. They have been given what they wanted. Access to the palace. I assume, Astrid, that you can make them feel welcome, while Latika gets a reprieve.”

  “Yes,” Astrid said. “I can definitely do that.”

  “Good. Astrid will see to everything,” he said to Latika. “Unless you wish to speak to your parents.”

  “No. I’ve made a life for myself, a space for myself where I’m not a pawn. And because of them...well, because of them, here we are. I have nothing to say to them.”

  “Well, this should handle them once and for all, shouldn’t it? In the meantime, I have already taken the liberty of packing your things.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “You left the entire planning of the wedding to me, and now you’re pulling rank?”

  “Because, my dear. You’re about to discover exactly how this protection is going to work. If you seek shelter with me, then you must deal with my commands. I’m terribly sorry if that interferes in some way with your preferences. But I am not a boy to be manipulated. You leapt out of the burning building into my arms, Latika. And now you must contend with the consequences.”

  * * *

  And that was how Latika found herself thirty thousand feet in the air in Gunnar’s lavish private jet. She had been in it before, once, when she had needed to meet Astrid somewhere in Europe, when they had been separated. She had thought it gaudy and extravagant then. She did not think it any better now.

  Astrid’s was all clean lines and taupe leather. Gunnar’s was gold and black, a large bed at the center.

  “Well, I see you haven’t updated,” she said waspishly, sitting down on one of the plush leather chairs, designed for a person to sink into the material. Rather than for lovely, modern form.

  “It’s comfortable,” he said. “I believe in substance over style. When it comes to my furniture. In terms of myself, I obviously go with style. But something has to have substance.”

  “When did you plan for us to leave directly after the wedding?”

  “The moment we were standing there and I saw how upset you were.”

  She couldn’t tell if he was sincere. With Gunnar it was nearly impossible to tell. And yet it did something to her stomach to hear him say that. “Really.”

  “Yes,” he said. “I did not mean to distress you by inviting your parents to the wedding. What I told you is true. I genuinely believed that it was the best thing. But there is no reason you should have to socialize with them. Anyway, I was already planning on taking you to the States for a honeymoon. And so that you could see my company.”

  “New York?”

  “No,” he said. “San Diego.”

  That surprised her. But, she also felt just slightly relieved that she didn’t have to return to New York. She hadn’t been since she had fled her family. And the idea of leaving her parents behind in his land, only to return to a place that she associated with her stifling upbringing didn’t suit her.

  “I’ve never been to California,” she said.

  “How is that possible?”

  “We didn’t travel that direction. We went to Europe often. Up and down the eastern seaboard. To India. We never had occasion to go to California.”

  “You’ll like it,” he said.

  “How can you possibly say that with such certainty?” Like he knew her.

  “Because it’s different than Bjornland. It will be a nice change of pace. For one thing, the ocean is there.”

  She did miss the ocean. She had always adored visiting the atmospheric beaches of the Atlantic bac
k home. And she adored Goa on holiday. Being introduced to another beach would be nice.

  But she was still feeling angry at him, and determined not to allow him to see that she thought it might be nice at all.

  It was sour of her, perhaps. But she still felt so very...

  Fragile. And a bit like upon being moved around on a chessboard.

  Is that fair? You are the one who went to him for help. For this kind of help. You backed him into a corner, and now you’re angry with him.

  Well. Yes. She was. She couldn’t deny that.

  “I still don’t understand how you managed to keep that a secret.”

  “And like I told you, people don’t go looking for something reputable when someone is wandering around throwing the disreputable in their face. They assume, of course that what I’d like to hide is my scandalous behavior. No one can quite comprehend the fact that I don’t care much about that at all. Who would think to look for success?”

  “But you go into the office and...”

  “Sometimes. Everyone who works there has signed a gag order.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m not. Of course, we will be doing away with all of that now. We will be making our debut at the company as husband and wife, and we will be having a proper show for the media. Where all will be revealed.”

  “Including why you hid it?”

  He shook his head. “No. That’s not a story I’ll ever tell.”

  “Will you tell me?” Her question seemed to land in a dead space of air. Changing the feel of the room.

  Ice blue eyes rested on hers. “No.”

  She suddenly felt frustrated. She couldn’t get a read on him. It was as if this thing she had thought was a puddle all along had turned out to be a fathomless sea. She couldn’t see the bottom. And she could not figure out how she had thought it was a puddle in the first place either.

  And all of it left her feeling confused, and for a woman who was already feeling at the end of her tether with not knowing what to do in a situation, it was all a bit much.

  “I made the right decision, then,” she said.

  “And that is what?”

  “The decision to not share my body with you.”

  His gaze sharpened. “You think?”

  “Yes. Because if you can’t even share with me the story of why you started this company, then I don’t know how we could ever share anything else.”

  “Are you so naïve that you imagine a meeting of bodies must also be a meeting of souls?”

  She tilted her chin upward, her heart pounding heavily. “I already told you. I’m a virgin. So I wouldn’t really know.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he said.

  Of all the possible responses to that, this was not what she had imagined. “You don’t believe me?”

  “No. I think you’re telling me that because I told you I didn’t want to marry a virgin.”

  “Not everything is about you,” she said. “My virginity certainly isn’t.”

  “I don’t believe that. Surely most things are about me.”

  “No, I hate to disappoint you.”

  “You don’t kiss like a virgin.”

  Her stomach twisted. “How do I kiss?”

  “Well, mostly like an indignant cat who would like to scratch my eyes out, and scratch my back, but isn’t sure which she wants more.”

  “Well, that’s close enough to the mark,” she said.

  “So you do want to leave claw marks down my back. Little virgin, that seems like something you couldn’t possibly handle.”

  “If you’re trying to goad me into sex, then you’ve badly miscalculated.”

  “I’m not trying to goad you into anything. Goading you is simply the natural way we communicate. I assumed it was our love language.”

  “I’m tired,” she said.

  She was. But that wasn’t the primary reason she needed to be done with this. Because she felt too wounded, too raw, too fragile to deal with him.

  “There’s a bed just there.”

  “I won’t share it with you.”

  “Fine by me. I’ve no interest in sleeping next to you.”

  “Why do you want me?” Her frustration boiled over. It made no sense. He made no sense. Why did he want her in particular? Particularly after all this time? Why did it seem to be her specifically? They didn’t like each other. They didn’t get along. And yet something drew her to him, and she could blame her lack of experience. But he... He could have his pick of women who didn’t fight with him. Who didn’t irritate him. So why he should want her... She just didn’t know.

  Suddenly, it was as if a wall dropped between them. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice rough. “And if I had an answer, perhaps I would not feel so driven to get you underneath me. But I don’t know. I don’t understand it. I have wanted you with a ferocity that defied logic ever since the first time I saw you. And then you opened your mouth, and I wanted, in equal parts to argue with you. I’ve never understood either compulsion.”

  Those eyes were such an intense blue. “People don’t compel me, Latika. They don’t make me do anything. You... You bring out responses in myself that even I don’t understand. I don’t like it.”

  She swallowed hard, her heart hammering. “I don’t understand how a person can want to slap someone and kiss them.”

  “I think you and I have far too much chemistry,” he said. “The good and the bad. And there doesn’t seem to be very clear reason as to why it’s so strong.”

  The talk of chemistry with that big bed right over there, with no escape, terrified her. Because there really was nothing holding her back from being with him.

  Yes, there was her sense of self-preservation. Her desire to control the situation in which she had none. But... But she wanted him. And the question now was if she was truly intent on cutting off his nose and hers, which would spite his face, but hers as well.

  The look in those blue eyes nearly undid her. And she nearly went to him. Nearly shamed herself by crawling onto his lap, pressing her mouth to his so that she might get another chance to taste him.

  But then it hit her. That he was just another jailer. And the last thing she wanted was to end up with feelings for him. She had loved her parents, but it had not changed the fact that she’d been used by them.

  This line of thinking made her head throb, because yes, she had been using Gunnar as well. But she was very afraid that her feelings were vulnerable to changing. That she might find herself caring for him, while he simply saw her as a means to an end. A man who had said his vows in a church, without blinking, while he had already made it very plain to her that he had no intention of keeping them.

  “I’m tired,” she reiterated. “I’m going to sleep.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WHEN LATIKA WOKE, the plane had touched down in San Diego and when she exited the plane, she was stunned by the brilliant blue. The sea, the sky. The Pacific in all its glory.

  The sun on her skin was perfection.

  She loved her adopted country, but it was a very cold climate. And even though she was used to the intensity of East Coast winters, she had always preferred blue skies.

  She could definitely see why Gunnar had chosen to position his business here.

  But, she didn’t want to tell him that.

  “We can go to my house. And then, we will continue on to take the tour of the business.”

  “You have a house here?” she asked.

  “Of course I do. It would be a very silly thing to have offices here, and no house, don’t you think?”

  She realized that she had imagined that everything Gunnar did was silly. So, it had truly never occurred to her that there could be such hidden depths to him.

  “You don’t have to tell me the story,” she said as they got into t
he limo that had met them. “But will you at least tell me why you have gone to such great lengths to play the part of court jester, when you’re a prince.”

  “Court jester? I always thought I was quite like Prince Harry.”

  “Prince Harry is less shameless.”

  “You must understand,” he said, his voice grave. “My father did not want my sister to rule the country. We were twins, with her born five minutes before me. And he did not feel that was sufficient reason to be denied the male heir that he felt the country deserved. My sister had to work so hard to prove to him that she was capable. And I did everything in my power to make them think that I might not be capable.”

  “All of this... It was a ruse for your father?”

  “Not all. But yes, that certainly played into it.”

  “And you started the business because...”

  “Because I was bored. Because a man of my age cannot be happy bouncing from club to club, and bed to bed of anonymous women endlessly.”

  “Can’t they? It seems to me that a great many men would like you to think that they can.”

  “Without exception, I find the people with the widest smiles on their faces in establishments like that have the biggest holes inside of them.”

  “Including you?”

  He lifted a shoulder. “I’m not entirely convinced that if you knocked on my chest it wouldn’t sound hollow.”

  And yet, it was increasingly difficult for Latika to believe that. She thought that he wanted the world to believe it, but that he wasn’t strictly true. She had called into question his caring about his sister, and she regretted that. She regretted it quite bitterly, because she had watched him play the role of protector to Astrid, in spite of the fact that his sister technically inhabited a loftier position than he did. She had the distinct feeling that Gunnar would risk his life for her.

  “I don’t think it’s hollow,” she said.

  “Don’t you?”

  “You’re helping me.”

  “I’m helping myself,” he responded.