“Yes.” My hands are still gripping his thighs. I unclench my fingers and drop them into my lap. While my heart continues to race, I struggle to regain a business-like air. I smooth hand over my hair. “And what is the down-side to this situation? You make it sound like a true fairytale.”
“Well—” His throaty chuckle gives him a boyish air. “You’ll have to deal with my mother. She can be quite the handful. And you’ll have to put up with me. I’ve been told that I can be difficult and demanding and sometimes a downright arse.” His lips are red from our kiss. The dimples bracketing his mouth dance. I curl my fingers to resist touching them.
“And if we hate each other?”
“Do I need to kiss you again?” One of his eyebrows lifts.
“A good kiss doesn’t make a successful marriage. We’ll need more than sexual attraction. Believe me, I know.” I have a divorce decree and a handsome ex-husband to prove it.
“I’m offering you respect and affection without the entanglement of love. There won’t be any messy emotions to impede our relationship. I can’t give you more than that.”
A note of sadness sparks in the depths of my soul. If we marry, I’ll be giving up all my fantasies of romance and love. Is this really what I want? A loveless union with a stranger? Sure, he’s a future king, but is that enough? Nicky’s handsome face floats in my periphery alongside my ex-husband. I’d been madly in love with both of them, and look where it landed me—heartbroken. The practical side of my mind rejoices. No more hurt feelings. No more misunderstandings. The idea of a drama-free partnership sounds idyllic. “And what if I change my mind?”
“Is an escape clause?” A smile dances on his lips.
“Yes.”
The amusement slips from his expression. He’s silent for a long time. “I ask for a one-year commitment from you. We can discuss dissolution at that time, if you desire.”
One year isn’t a long time. How bad could it be? I’ll have my new foundation to keep me busy, and he's easy on the eyes, that's for sure. A year would give me plenty of time to deal with my father and the fallout from his murderous tendencies. "If things turn out badly, I'll need some sort of compensation to fall back on."
“Of course. I’d be surprised if you didn’t ask.” He strokes his chin, keeping his gaze locked with mine. “You can keep your apartment here and whatever possessions you acquire during our marriage. And I’ll make sure you have a generous sum to pad your bank account.”
“Can I get this in writing?”
“There you go—doubting my word again.” The tension between us thickens the air, making it hard to breathe. He chuckles. “Fine. I’ll have the documents drawn up.”
My head whirls with the details of an arranged marriage. No matter what happens, I don’t want to be left penniless. “This is all so sudden. I need time to think.”
“You have tonight.” He stands, towering over me. With his left hand, he tilts my chin up to look at him. The dominating maleness in his stance reminds me of the undeniable pull of attraction between us. “I’d give you more time, but we leave tomorrow. We need to be married when our feet hit Androvian soil.”
The urgency in his words sets butterflies to flight in my stomach. Whether I have an hour or a month, my answer will be the same. I’m going to accept, but I don’t want him to know how desperate I feel. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“It’s my pleasure.” The way his voice draws out the final word makes my nipples tighten. His thumb caresses my cheek as he withdraws his hand from my chin. “Regardless of your decision, you’ll still have my protection from your father.”
"I don't understand why you're so kind. It scares me a little."
“Don’t mistake my actions for kindness. I never do anything without a motive. You should know that about me. The sooner you realize what kind of man I am, the better for both of us.”
His words haunt me long into the night. I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, weighing my options. If I pass up this opportunity, will I regret it? I've certainly come to regret many things in the past year: a failed marriage, humiliation by Nicky, devastation from my father. Marrying a prince seems trivial compared to those fiascos. The more I consider the prospect, the more confident I become. God has given me a chance to start over with a new home, new husband, and new status. To the outside, it probably seems like I’ve won the lottery.
The clock on the nightstand says it’s past two in the morning. Now that I’ve made my decision, my stomach growls. I’ve barely eaten in two days, and I’m starving. The hotel slippers cuddle my feet as I sneak down the hall toward the kitchen. Henry’s door is cracked, but the room is dark. His deep voice rumbles through the silence, too low to understand. As I pass his door, he calls out to me. “Everly? Are you okay?”
I flinch. “Yes. I’m hungry.”
“Come here.” His voice is rusty, like he’s been sleeping.
“Did I wake you?” Why, why, why didn’t I stay in my room? Conversations with His Royal Highness have proven to be emotionally exhausting.
“No. Just do it, Everly.”
After a heavy sigh, I push the door open. He’s lying shirtless on the bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows, phone to his ear. Blue moonlight spills through the open window, highlighting the dips and swells of his bare, rippled abdomen. Drawstring pajamas hang low on his hips, low enough to show the definition of muscle below his hipbones and a dark trail of hair leading from his navel into his pants.
“I’ll call you back.” He ends his call and tosses the phone onto the bed. My gaze finally reaches his. The sight of his messy hair and hooded eyes creates chaos between my thighs. He’s golden, glorious, and godly, the total package. “Can I have something brought up for you?”
“What?” No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop staring at him.
“Food? I can call the kitchen.” One corner of his mouth twitches. The bastard knows how the sight of him is affecting me. “Or did you need something else?”
“No. I’m fine. I’ll just grab some cheese and crackers.” My heels snag on the threshold as I stumble backward. I grab the doorframe to keep from tumbling into the hall.
“Suit yourself.” He rolls his lips together. The heat of his gaze slides down my body, through the open front of the robe, admiring my negligee. The silk clings to my braless breasts and pantyless hips. I freeze. Silence roars in my ears, broken by the erratic thudding of my heart. His smile broadens, wicked and taunting. “Did you have something you want to say to me?”
“No. I mean, yes.” I grip the doorframe until my fingers ache. “My answer—it’s yes. I’ll marry you.”
To be continued in THE REBEL QUEEN.
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Also by Jeana E. Mann
Felony Romance Series
Intoxicated
Unexpected
Vindicated
Impulsive
Drift
Committed
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Pretty Broken Series
Pretty Broken Girl
Pretty Filthy Lies
Pretty Dirty Secrets
Pretty Wild Thing
Pretty Broken Promises
Pretty Broken Dreams
Pretty Broken Baby
Pretty Broken Hearts
Pretty Broken Bastard
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Standalones
Monster Love
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Short Stories
Everything
Linger
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The Exiled Prince Trilogy
The Exiled Prince
The Dirty Princess
The War King
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***
Coming in 2
018
The Royal Consort
The Rebel Queen
About the Author
Jeana Mann is the author of sizzling hot contemporary romance. When she’s not busy dreaming up steamy romance novels, she loves to travel anywhere and everywhere. Over the years she climbed the ruins of Chichen Iza in Mexico, snorkeled along the shores of Hawaii, driven the track at the Indy 500, sailed around Jamaica, ate gelato on the steps of the Pantheon in Rome, and explored the ancient city of Pompeii. More important than the places she’s been are the people she has met along the way.
Be sure to connect with Jeana on Facebook or follow along on Twitter for the latest news regarding her upcoming releases.
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Copyright © 2019 by Jeana E. Mann
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