At His Majesty's Convenience

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At His Majesty's Convenience Page 4

by Jennifer Lewis


  Jake’s eyes widened. “Uh, yes. Yes, you are.”

  Why did he seem surprised by the idea? It was hardly an odd one if they’d been together for years. “Or was I going to keep my original surname?” Curiosity pricked her.

  He smiled. “I don’t think we’d discussed whether you would change it or not.”

  “Oh.” Funny they hadn’t talked about that. After all, what would the children be called? “How long have we been engaged?”

  He lifted his chin slightly. “Just since yesterday. We haven’t even told anyone yet.”

  Yesterday? Her eyes widened. “How odd that I would lose my memory on the same day. I can’t even remember the proposal.”

  She watched his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed. He must be upset that she couldn’t even remember such a momentous and important moment. “I’m sure it will come back eventually.”

  An odd sensation started forming in the pit of her stomach. Something felt…off. How could she have forgotten her own fiancé? It was disorienting to know less about her own life than someone else did. “I think I should lay low for a few days. I don’t really want to see anyone until I know who I am.”

  Jake grimaced. “I’m afraid that’s going to be hard. The media will probably want an interview.”

  “About my memory?”

  “About our engagement.”

  “Why would we tell the media?”

  Jake hesitated for a moment. “Since I’m the king of this country, everything I do is news.”

  Andi’s mouth fell open. “You’re the king?” She was pretty sure she wasn’t some kind of royal princess or aristocrat. She certainly didn’t feel like one. But maybe that explained the long evening gown. She glanced down at its crumpled folds. “How did we meet?”

  Jake’s lids lowered slightly. “You’re my longtime assistant. We just decided to marry.”

  She blinked. That explained all the sizzling and tingling in her body—she’d been intimate with this man for a long time. How bizarre that she had to hear about her own life from someone else. From the man she’d apparently dated for years and planned to marry.

  Then again, if she’d been seeing this man for years, why did his mere presence send shivers of arousal tingling over her skin and zapping through her insides?

  A deep breath didn’t help clear the odd mix of confusion and emptiness in her brain. She hoped her memory would return before she did anything to embarrass him. “I guess I should get changed. I feel silly asking this, but where are my clothes?”

  Jake froze for a moment, brow furrowed. “You wait here. I’ll bring some for you.”

  “It’s okay, I don’t want to put you to any trouble. If you’ll just tell me where they are.” She hated feeling so helpless.

  “It’s no trouble at all. Just relax on the sofa for a bit. I’ll be right back.”

  She shrugged. “I suppose you probably know what I like to wear better than I do. Still, I could come with you. I need to figure out where everything is.”

  “Better that you get dressed first. I’ll be right back.”

  He left the room abruptly, leaving Andi uneasy. Why was he so anxious for her to stay here? Like he didn’t want anyone to see her. Maybe he didn’t want people to know about her loss of memory.

  She glanced around the room, already feeling alone and worried without him. Did he have to leave? As the king, you’d think he’d just call for a servant to bring her clothes.

  Or did things not work that way anymore? When your memory had taken flight it was hard to distinguish between fairy tales and ordinary life.

  She lay back on the sofa and tried to relax. She was engaged to a handsome and caring man that she was fiercely attracted to. Maybe her real life was a fairy tale?

  Jake strode along the corridor, hoping he wouldn’t run into anyone—which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. Usually he prided himself on being up-front and open, but right now he didn’t want anyone to know Andi had been about to leave. That felt…personal.

  He was confident she’d keep it to herself until she’d squared things with him. She’d proved over the years that she was the soul of discretion and confided in no one.

  Her job was her life. At least it had been until she decided she’d had enough of it. Hurt flared inside him that she could even consider abandoning him and Ruthenia, especially now he’d realized she was the ideal wife for him. This odd memory loss would give him a chance to turn things around and keep her here for good.

  He reached her door and slipped into the room with a sense of relief. Her packed suitcases still sat on the floor next to the bed. He closed the door and began to unpack, hanging the clothes back in the closet and placing some items in the large dresser. He intended to make it look as if she’d never thought of leaving.

  Some things startled him. A lacy pink nightgown. A pair of black stockings and garters. When had she had occasion to wear these? He didn’t think she had been on a single date since they’d moved to Ruthenia.

  Guilt speared him at the thought. She was so busy working she had no life at all outside of her job. Why had he assumed that would be enough for her?

  He placed her toiletries back in the bathroom. Handling her shampoo bottle and deodorant felt oddly intimate, like he was peeking into her private life. She had a lot of different lipsticks and he tried to arrange them upright on the bathroom shelf, though really he had no idea how she kept them.

  She looked a lot prettier without all that lipstick on. Maybe he should just ditch them and she’d be none the wiser?

  No. These were her possessions and that would be wrong.

  He arranged her eyeliner pencils and powders and bottles of makeup on the shelf, too. Did all women have so much of this stuff? She had a ridiculous assortment of hair products, too—gels and sprays and mousses—which was funny since her hair was almost always tied back in a bun.

  It took a full twenty minutes to get her bags unpacked and rearranged in some sort of convincing order. He shoved the bags under the bed and stood back to admire his handiwork.

  Too perfect. He pulled a pair of panty hose from a drawer and draped them over the bed. Better.

  He was about to leave when he remembered he was supposed to bring her back something to wear. Hmm. Mischief tickled his insides. What would he like to see her in? Not one of those stiff, bright suits she always wore.

  He pulled a pair of jeans from one of the drawers. He’d never seen her in those, so why not? A blue long-sleeved T-shirt seemed to match, and he pulled some rather fetching black lace underwear—tags still attached—from the drawer.

  He removed the tags. Why not let her think she wore stuff like this every day?

  He rolled the items in a soft blue-and-gray sweater and set off down the corridor again, glancing left and right, glad that the palace was still quiet at this hour.

  Andi’s uncharacteristically anxious face greeted him as he returned to his rooms. She seemed quite different from last night, when she was spouting garbled poetry and dancing around the room. Now she sat curled up on the sofa, clutching her knees.

  “How are you feeling?” Her rigid posture made him want to soothe and relax her.

  “Nervous. It’s odd not knowing anything about myself or my life. More than odd. Scary.”

  Jake tried to ignore the trickle of guilt that slid down his spine. He had no intention of telling her the truth about her plans to leave. And come to think of it, he hadn’t seen any tickets or itineraries in her room. Maybe her plans weren’t all that firm, anyway. “Don’t worry. It’ll all come back eventually. In the meantime, we’ll just carry on as usual. Does that sound okay?” She nodded.

  “I brought some clothes.” He set them down on the sofa beside him.

  She unrolled the sweater and her eyes widened briefly at the sight of the lacy bra and panties. “Thanks.”

  She glanced up at him, and then at the pile of clothes again.

  He resisted a powerful urge to see her slip into that sexy underwear
. “You can change in the bedroom if you want some privacy. There are fresh towels in the bathroom if you’d like to take a shower.”

  Andi closed the bedroom door behind her. If Jake was her fiancé, why did the thought of changing in front of him make her want to blush crimson? She’d probably done it numerous times in the past. This whole situation was so weird. Her own fiancé felt—not like a stranger, but not like an intimate companion, either.

  Must be pretty uncomfortable for Jake, too, though he didn’t seem too flustered. Maybe he was just the sort to take things in stride. He had a reassuring air of composure, which was probably a good thing in a king.

  Andi slipped out of her crumpled evening gown and climbed into a luxurious marble shower that could accommodate about six people. Unlike the scenery outside the window, and even the dressing room/sitting area, which felt at least somewhat familiar, everything in the bathroom suite seemed totally strange, like she’d literally never been there before. Maybe the memory was selective like that in its recall.

  The warm water soothed and caressed her and she dried off feeling fresher.

  She managed to arrange her hair into some semblance of order using a black comb, and applied some rather masculine-scented deodorant. They obviously didn’t share this bathroom as there were no girly items in here at all. Unease pricked her skin again. No real reason for it though. Probably plenty of engaged couples slept in separate rooms. And one would expect extra attention to propriety in a royal household.

  The black underwear he’d brought made her want to blush again. Why? It was her own, so why did it feel too racy for her? The bra fit perfectly, and the panties, while very low-cut, were comfortable, too. She was glad to quickly cover them with the practical jeans and blue T-shirt. No socks or shoes? Well, she could go retrieve those herself. She tied the soft sweater around her shoulders and stepped outside.

  Jake’s mouth broadened into a smile at the sight of her. “You look great.” His dark eyes shone with approval.

  She shrugged. Something about the ensemble felt funny. Too casual, maybe. It didn’t seem right to wear jeans in a royal palace.

  “You didn’t bring any shoes.” She pointed to her bare feet.

  “Maybe I wanted to admire your pretty toes.”

  Heat flared inside her as his gaze slid down her legs to the toes in question. She giggled, feeling suddenly lighthearted. “My toes would still like to find some shoes to hide in. Why wasn’t I wearing any last night? I looked in the bedroom and the dressing room, but I didn’t see any.”

  “I don’t know.” Jake’s expression turned more serious. “You were twirling barefoot on the lawn when I found you.”

  Andi’s skin prickled with unease again. “So we decided to get engaged, and then I lost my memory?”

  Jake nodded. His guarded expression didn’t offer much reassurance.

  He took a step toward her. “Don’t worry, we’ll get through this together.” He slid his arms around her waist. Heat rippled in her belly. His scent stirred emotions and sensations and she softened into his embrace. She wondered if he was going to say he loved her, but he simply kissed her softly on the mouth.

  Pleasure crept over her. “I guess I’m lucky it happened right here, and that I’m not wandering around some strange place with no idea who I am like those stories you see on the news.”

  “It is fortunate, isn’t it?” He kissed her again. This time both their eyes slid closed and the kiss deepened. Colors swirled and sparkled behind Andi’s eyelids and sensation crashed through her, quickening her pulse and making her breath come in unsteady gasps. Her fingers itched to touch the skin under his starched shirt.

  She stepped back, blinking, once they managed to pull apart. Were their kisses always this intense?

  Jake smiled, relaxed and calm. Apparently this was all par for the course. Andi patted her hair, wishing she could feel half as composed as he looked. Terror snapped through her at the prospect of facing strangers and trying to pretend everything was normal. “Can we keep our engagement a secret for now?”

  Jake’s eyes widened for a second. “Why?”

  “Just so I don’t have to answer a lot of questions when I don’t even know who I am.”

  He frowned. “I’m afraid it’s too late. I told someone on the phone last night.”

  “Who?” Not that she’d even know the name.

  “Maxi Rivenshnell. She’s a…friend of the family.”

  Andi paused. The name had a nasty ring to it. Maybe it was the way he pronounced it, like something that tasted bad. “Maybe she won’t tell anyone.”

  “I suspect she’ll tell everyone.” He turned and strode across the room. Shoved a hand through his dark hair. Then he turned and approached her. “But nothing’s going to stop me buying you a ring today, and you’re going to choose it. First, let me summon your shoes.”

  Jake parked his Mercedes in his usual reserved spot in the town’s main square. No need for chauffeurs and armed escorts in tiny Ruthenia. He rushed around the car to help Andi out, but she was already on her feet and closing the door by the time he got there.

  She’d devoured her breakfast of fruit and pastries in the privacy of his suite. At least he knew what she liked to eat. Despite obvious confusion over little things like how to find her way around, she seemed healthy and relatively calm, which was a huge relief.

  Of course her reluctance to announce their engagement was a slight hitch in his plans to unload his unwanted admirers, but word would get out soon enough. Ruthenia had more than its share of gossiping busybodies, and for once they’d be working in his favor.

  He took her arm and guided her across the main square. Morning sunlight illuminated the old stone facades of the shops and glinted off the slate tiles of the church steeple. Pigeons gathered near the fountain, where a little girl tossed bread crumbs at them and two dogs barked a happy greeting as their owners stopped for a chat.

  “The local town,” murmured Andi.

  “Does it look familiar?”

  “A little. Like I’ve seen it in a dream rather than in real life. It’s so pretty.”

  “It is lovely. You and I saw it together for the first time three years ago.”

  She paused. “You didn’t grow up here?”

  “No, I grew up in the States, like you. I didn’t come here until the socialist government collapsed in a heap of corruption scandals and people started agitating for the return of the royal family. At first I thought they were nuts, then I realized I could probably help put the country back on its feet.” He looked at her, her clear blue eyes wide, soaking in everything he said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  His chest tightened as he spoke the words. All true. Andi’s quiet confidence and brisk efficiency made almost anything possible. The prospect of carrying on without her by his side was unthinkable.

  “Was I good at being your assistant?” Her serious gaze touched him. “I don’t remember anything about my job.”

  “Exemplary. You’ve been far more than my assistant. My right-hand woman is a better description.”

  She looked pleased. “I guess that’s a good thing, since we’re getting married.”

  “Absolutely.” Jake swallowed. How would she react when her memory returned and she realized they were never romantically involved? He drew in a breath. She wasn’t in love with him. Still, she was sensible enough to see that marriage between them would be in the best interests of Ruthenia.

  And that kiss had been surprisingly spicy. In fact, he couldn’t remember experiencing anything like it in his fairly substantial kissing experience.

  Maybe it was the element of the forbidden. He’d never considered kissing his assistant and it still felt…wrong. Probably because it was wrong of him to let her think they’d been a couple. But once a ring was on her finger, they really would be engaged and everything would be on the up and up.

  At least until her memory came back.

  “The jeweler is down this street.” He led
her along a narrow cobbled alley barely wide enough for a cart. The kind of street he’d have to fold in his wing mirrors to drive down without scraping the ancient walls on either side. Thick handblown glass squares glazed the bowed window of the shop, giving a distorted view of the luxurious trinkets inside.

  Despite its old-world ambience—or maybe because of it—this jeweler was one of the finest in Europe and had recently regained its international reputation as part of Jake’s Rediscover Ruthenia campaign. He’d bought quite a few pieces here—gifts for foreign diplomats and wealthy Ruthenian acquaintances. Why had it never occurred to him to buy something lovely for Andi?

  He opened the heavy wood door and ushered her in, unable to resist brushing her waist with his fingers as he coaxed her through. The formally attired proprietor rushed forward to greet them. “Welcome, sir.” Jake was grateful the man remembered his aversion to pompous titles. “How can we assist you today? A custom commission, perhaps?”

  Jake hesitated. Andi might well like a ring designed to her exact specifications—but he needed a ring on her finger right now to make an honest man of him. He certainly didn’t want her memory coming back before the setting was tooled. “I suspect you have something lovely in the shop already.”

  He took Andi’s hand in his. It was warm, and he squeezed it to calm her nerves. “We’re looking for an engagement ring.”

  The elderly jeweler’s eyes opened wide. His gaze slid to Andi, then back again. He seemed unsure what to make of the situation. Perhaps he’d been following the local gossip columns and was already designing one with Maxi or Alia in mind. “Should I be offering you my congratulations?”

  “Most certainly.” Jake slid his arm around Andi.

  “Wonderful.” The jeweler bowed his head slightly in Andi’s direction. “My best wishes for you both. And in time for Independence Day, too.” A smile creased his wrinkled face. “The whole nation will be overjoyed. I do think a custom creation would be most appropriate. Perhaps with the family crest?”

  “Why don’t we take a look at what you have in stock?” He tightened his arm around Andi’s waist, then loosened it, suddenly aware of how intent he was to hold on to her. Not that she was resisting. She leaned into him, perhaps seeking reassurance he was happy to provide.

 

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