At His Majesty's Convenience

by Jennifer Lewis

  “Andi, can you come in for a moment? They want to check the lighting.”

  She steadied herself and walked—slowly in her long, rather heavy dress—toward the formal library where the cameras were set up.

  Jake was nowhere to be seen.

  It’s your job, she told herself. Just be professional. Being a monarch’s fiancée definitely felt more like a career assignment than a romantic dream come true.

  Strangers’ hands shuffled her into place under blistering hot lights that made her blink. More powder was dotted on her nose and fingers fluffed her curls. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the local news anchor going over some notes with a producer. What kind of questions would they ask?

  I won’t lie.

  She promised herself that. This whole situation was so confusing already; she had no intention of making it worse by having to keep track of stories. She’d try to be tactful and diplomatic, of course.

  Just part of the job.

  A sudden hush fell over the room and all eyes turned to the door. His majesty. Jake strode in, a calm smile on his face. Andi’s heartbeat quickened under her designer gown. Fear as well as the familiar desire. Would she manage to act the role of fiancée well enough to please him?

  She cursed herself for wanting to make him happy. He hadn’t given her feelings any thought when he’d tricked her into wearing his ring.

  Their eyes met and a jolt of energy surged through her. I really do want to marry you. His words echoed in her brain, tormenting and enticing. How could she not at least give it a shot?

  A producer settled them both on the ornate gilt-edged sofa under the lights, in full view of three cameras. Andi felt Jake’s hand close around hers, his skin warm. She almost wished he wouldn’t touch her, as she didn’t want him to know she was shaking and that her palms were sweating.

  No aspect of her job had ever made her so terrified. She’d greeted foreign dignitaries and handled major international incidents without so much as a raised pulse. Why did every move she made now feel like a matter of life and death?

  Silence descended as the interviewer moved toward them, microphone clipped to her blue suit. Andi’s heart pounded.

  I won’t lie.

  But Jake didn’t have to know that.

  “Your Majesty, thank you so much for agreeing to this interview.” Jake murmured an assent. “And for allowing us to meet your fiancée.” The journalist smiled at Andi.

  She tried not to shrink into the sofa. Yesterday morning she’d been totally comfortable and happy as Jake’s fiancée. It had felt as natural as breathing. But now everything was different and she’d been dropped into the middle of a movie set—with no script.

  The reporter turned her lipsticked smile to Andi. “You’re living every young girl’s dream.”

  “Yes,” she stammered. Except in the dream the prince actually loves you. “I still can’t believe it.”

  No lies told so far.

  “Was the proposal very romantic?”

  Andi grew hyperconscious of Jake’s hand wrapped around hers. She drew in a breath. “I was so stunned I don’t remember a word of it.”

  The reporter laughed, and so did Jake. Andi managed a smile.

  “I guess the important part is that you said yes.” The reporter turned to Jake. “Perhaps you could tell us about the moment.”

  Andi stared at Jake. Would he make something up? He’d lied to her when he’d told her they were engaged. Unless a king could become engaged simply by an act of will.

  “It was a private moment between myself and Andi.” He turned to look at her. Then continued in a low voice. “I’m very happy that she’s agreed to be my wife.”

  Until Independence Day. He was obviously confident he’d convince her to stay after that, but as she sat here under the lights with people staring at her and analyzing every move she made, she became increasingly sure she’d couldn’t handle this.

  It would have been different if Jake wanted to marry her for the right reasons and she could look forward to true intimacy and companionship, at least when they were alone together.

  But she’d never been enough for him before, and she was painfully sure that she wouldn’t be enough for him now—ring or no ring.

  “What a lovely ring.” Andi’s hand flinched slightly under the reporter’s gaze. “A fitting symbol for a royal romance.”

  Yes. All flash and pomp. “Thanks. We bought it right here in town. The local village has such skilled craftspeople.”

  “I think it’s charming that you chose the work of a Ruthenian artisan, when you could so easily have bought something from New York or Paris.”

  “Both Andi and I are proud of Ruthenia’s fine old-world craftsmanship. It’s one of the few places where attention to detail is more important than turning a quick profit. Some people might see our steady and deliberate approach to things as a hindrance in the modern world of business, but I see them as strengths that will secure our future.”

  Andi maintained a tight smile. He was turning their engagement interview into a promotional video for Ruthenia. Something she would have heartily approved of only a few days ago, but now made her heart contract with pain.

  With his “steady and deliberate” approach to marriage, he expected her to devote her life to Ruthenia and fulfill the role of royal wife, whether he loved her or not.

  Andi startled when she realized the reporter was staring right at her. She’d obviously just asked a question, but Andi was so caught up in her depressing ruminations that she hadn’t even heard it. Jake squeezed her hand and jumped in. “Andi will be making all the wedding arrangements. In our years of working together she’s proved that she can pull off the most elaborate and complicated occasions.”

  He went on to talk about Ruthenian wedding traditions and how they’d be sure to observe and celebrate them.

  What about my family traditions? Andi remembered her cousin Lu’s wedding two summers ago. A big, fat Greek wedding in every sense of the word. What if she wanted to celebrate her mom’s Greek heritage as well as Jake’s Ruthenian roots?

  Not a chance. Just one more example of how her life would slide into a faded shadow of Jake’s.

  But only if she let it.

  Resolve kicked through her on a surge of adrenaline. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. “Of course, we’ll also honor our American roots and bring those into our planning. I have ancestors from several different countries and we’ll enjoy bringing aspects of that heritage into our wedding.”

  The reporter’s eyes widened. Jake was so big on being all Ruthenian all the time, trying to prove that despite his New York upbringing, every cell in his blue blood was Ruthenian to the nucleus. Right now she couldn’t resist knocking that. If he wanted a Ruthenian bride there was no shortage of volunteers.

  But he’d chosen an American one. She smiled up at him sweetly. His dark eyes flashed with surprise. “Of course. Andi’s right. Our American background and experience have enriched our lives and we’ll certainly be welcoming many American friends to the wedding.”

  Andi felt his arm slide around her shoulders. She tried not to shiver at the feel of his thick muscle through her dress. “And now, if you don’t mind, we have a lot to do to prepare for the Independence Day celebrations this week. Our third Independence Day marks a turning point for our nation, with our gross national product up and unemployment now at a fifty-year low. We hope everyone will join us in a toast to Ruthenia’s future.”

  He circled his arm around her back, a gesture both protective and possessive. Andi cursed the way it stirred sensation in her belly and emotion in her heart. The reporter frowned slightly at being summarily dismissed, but made some polite goodbye noises and shook their hands.

  Andi let out a long, audible sigh once the cameras finally turned off.

  Jake escorted her from the room, and it wasn’t until they were in the corridor outside that he loosened his grip on her arm slightly. “Nice point about our Ame
rican heritage.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. “I thought so.” She smiled. “I’m kind of surprised you decided to pick an American wife. I was sure you’d marry a Ruthenian so you could have some ultra-Ruthenian heirs.”

  An odd expression crossed his face for a second. Had he forgotten about the whole royal heir thing? This engagement scenario seemed rather by-the-seat-of-the-pants; maybe he didn’t think it through enough. Did he really want a Heinz 57 American girl from Pittsburgh to be the mother of Ruthenia’s future king?

  “Being Ruthenian is more a state of mind than a DNA trait.” He kept his arm around her shoulders as they marched along the hall.

  “Kind of like being king?” She arched a brow. “Though I suppose that does require the right DNA or there’d be other claimants. The only way most Ruthenians can claim the throne is by marrying you. I guess I should be honored.”

  Jake turned to stare at her. She never usually talked back to him. Of course she didn’t—he was her boss. Maybe once he discovered the real, off-hours Andi had a bit more spunk to her he’d lose all interest in hoisting her up onto his royal pedestal.

  “I don’t expect you to be honored.” Humor sparkled in Jake’s dark eyes. Did nothing rile him? “Just to think about the advantages of the situation.”

  “The glorious future of Ruthenia,” she quipped.

  “Exactly.”

  “What if I miss Philly cheesesteak?”

  “The cook can prepare some.”

  “No way. She’s from San Francisco. She’d put bean sprouts in it.”

  “We’ll import it.”

  “It’d go cold on the plane.”

  “We’ll fly there to get some.”

  “Is that fiscally responsible?”

  He laughed. “See? You’re a woman after my own heart.”

  “Cold and calculating?” She raised a brow.

  “I prefer to think of it as shrewd and pragmatic.” He pulled his arm from around her to reach into his pocket and she noticed they were at the door to his suite. She stiffened. She did not want to go in there and wind up in his bed again. Especially if it was the result of some shrewd and pragmatic seduction on his part.

  The intimacy they’d shared left her feeling tender and raw. Probably because she’d always loved him and the act of making love only intensified everything she’d already felt. Now that she knew he didn’t love her—that it was a mechanical act for him—she couldn’t bear to be that close to him again.

  “I guess I’ll head for my room.” She glanced down at her ridiculously over-the-top interview dress. “Am I supposed to give this dress to someone?”

  “You’re supposed to wear it to the state dinner tonight.”

  State dinner? She didn’t remember planning any dinner. In fact she remembered deliberately not planning anything for the first few days after she intended to leave. “Maybe my memory isn’t fully back yet, but I…” It was embarrassing to admit she still wasn’t in full control of her faculties.

  “Don’t worry, you had nothing to do with it. I pulled the whole thing together to butter up all the people cheesed off by our engagement.”

  “That’s a daring use of dairy metaphors.”

  Jake grinned. “Thanks. I’m a man of many talents.”

  If only I weren’t so vividly aware of that. She sure as heck wished she’d never slept with him. That was going to be very hard to forget.

  “So let me guess, all your recently jilted admirers, and their rich and influential daddies, will be gathered around the table in the grand dining room to whisper rude remarks about me.” Her stomach clenched at the prospect.

  “They’ll do no such thing.” Jake had entered the suite and obviously expected her to follow. He’d totally ignored her comment about heading for her room. “They wouldn’t dare.”

  That’s what you think. Powerful people could afford to be blissfully ignorant about what others thought, since no one would dare say anything to their face. She, on the other hand, was more likely to get a realistic picture of their true feelings since people didn’t bother to try to impress a mere assistant.

  But would they act differently now they thought she was engaged to Jake?

  She glanced down at her perfectly tailored dress. It might be interesting to see how they behaved now the tables were turned and she was the one about to marry a king.

  And it would certainly be educational to see how Jake behaved in their midst now that he was officially engaged to her.

  “You look stunning.” Jake’s low voice jolted her from her anxious thoughts. His gaze heated her skin right through the green silk as it raked over her from head to toe, lingering for just a split second longer where the bodice cupped her breasts.

  “Thanks. I guess almost anyone can look good when they have a crowd of professionals available to take charge.”

  “You’re very beautiful.” His dark eyes met hers. “Without any help from anyone.”

  Her face heated and she hoped they’d put on enough powder to hide it. Did he mean it or was he just saying that to mollify her? She didn’t really believe anything he said anymore.

  On the other hand, maybe he’d come to see her in a new light since he started considering her as wife material. She did feel pretty gorgeous under his smoldering stare.

  “Flattery will get you everywhere.” A sudden vision of herself in his bed—which was less than forty feet away—filled her mind. “Okay, maybe not everywhere. How long do we have until dinner?” She wasn’t sure hanging around in his suite was a good idea. It might be better to spend time in more neutral territory.

  “About half an hour.”

  “And who arranged this dinner if I didn’t?” Curiosity goaded her to ask the question. The palace seemed to be running pretty well without her input, which should make her feel less guilty about leaving, but it irked her somewhat, too.

  “Livia. She’s been really helpful the last few days. Really stepped into your shoes.”

  “Oh.” Andi stiffened. Why did it bother her that Livia might be after her job? She was planning to leave it, after all. Still, now that she remembered more of her past, she knew Livia had always felt somewhat competitive toward her, and resentful that Andi was hand in glove with Jake while she did the more routine work like ordering supplies and writing place cards.

  She couldn’t help wondering if Livia might now be resentful that Jake planned to marry her—talk about the ultimate promotion.

  If you were into that sort of thing.

  “Champagne?” Jake gestured to a bottle chilling in a silver bucket of ice. He must have had it brought here during the interview.

  “No thanks.” Better to keep her head. She had a feeling she’d need it. “But you go ahead.”

  “I couldn’t possibly drink alone. And it’s a 1907 Heidiseck.”

  “Are you sure it’s not past its sell-by date?”

  He chuckled. “It was recovered from a ship that was wrecked on its way to deliver champagne to the Russian Imperial family. It’s been brought up from the bottom of the sea and tastes sublime even after decades of being lost.”

  “Very appropriate, considering the history of Ruthenia.”

  “That’s what the friend who gave it to me thought. Won’t you join me in a toast to our future?” His flirtatious glance tickled her insides.

  She took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. “Not until I’ve figured out whether I want us to have a future.”

  Jake tilted his head. “You’re very stubborn all of a sudden.”

  “That’s because we’re discussing the rest of my life, not just some seating placements or even a corporate merger.”

  “I like that about you. A lot of women would jump at the chance to marry me just to be queen.”

  Or just because you’re embarrassingly attractive and shockingly wealthy. She tried to ignore those enticements herself.

  Jake lifted a brow. “That doesn’t mean much to you, does it?”

  “I�
�ve never had the slightest desire to be called Your Majesty.”

  “Me, either.” He grinned. “But if I can learn to put up with it, I’m sure you could handle it, too.”

  “Did you always know you’d be king one day?” She’d wondered this, but never dared ask him.

  “My parents talked about it, but I thought they were nuts. I planned to be a king of Wall Street instead.”

  “And now you’re doing both. I bet your parents would be very proud. It’s a shame they weren’t alive to see you take the throne.” She knew they’d died in a small plane accident.

  “If they were alive they’d be ruling here themselves, which would have been just fine with me.”

  “You don’t like being king?” She couldn’t resist asking.

  “I like it fine, but it’s a job for life. There’s no getting bored and quitting. Sometimes I wonder what I would have done if I’d had more freedom.”

  “You were brave to take on the responsibility. Not everyone would have, especially with the state Ruthenia was in when you first arrived.”

  “I do feel a real sense of duty toward Ruthenia. I always have, it was spooned into me along with my baby food. I couldn’t turn my back on Ruthenia for anything.”

  She didn’t feel the same way. In fact she could leave and never look back—couldn’t she? She hadn’t been raised to smile and wave at people or wear an ermine robe, but she had always felt a strong sense of commitment to her job—and her boss.

  Who stood in front of her tall and proud, handsome features picked out by the light of a wall sconce. She admired him for stepping up to the responsibilities of getting Ruthenia back on its feet, and committing himself to help the country and its people for the rest of his life.

  She should be touched and honored that he wanted her help in that enterprise, regardless of whether he loved her.

  Still, she wasn’t made of stone. Something she became vividly aware of when Jake reached for her hand and drew it to his lips. Her skin heated under his mouth and she struggled to keep her breathing steady.

  He’s just trying to seduce you into going along with his plan. It doesn’t mean he really loves you—or even desires you.