The Formidable King

by Alyssa J. Montgomery

  Answer him. Say something. Anything. Just don’t tell him the truth.

  It was an effort to force her jaw into movement and her tongue to form the words.

  ‘Yeah. I’d had enough.’

  Gabriel leant forward and took her hand in his. The warmth from his hands travelled all the way up through her arms and spread across her chest, relaxing her muscles along the way.

  ‘You’re a truly remarkable woman. Thank you for sharing your story with me.’

  A small laugh forced its way up through her vocal tract. ‘Well, at least you know now that I’m not going to miss fluffy towels and a hairdryer when we get to the village.’

  ‘I’m surprised you didn’t throw your upbringing at me when I made that stupid remark.’ Each word was laced with remorse. His thumb rubbed back and forth along her hand and she had to regulate her breathing.

  ‘Part of me wanted to throw it all at you.’ She smiled. ‘I guess I was holding on to the truth to hit you with it at a time when it’d make a greater impact.’

  ‘You should’ve told me why you didn’t want to go to Africa.’ There was no mistaking the care in his expression. It was as though the antagonistic man she’d first met had never existed. ‘I would’ve understood your reticence to come here had I known how your parents died.’

  Her parents’ deaths had nothing to do with her reticence to return to Africa, but she was relieved he made that assumption. At least he wouldn’t try to probe any deeper now into her apprehension, and she should be safe with him in Misanti.

  ‘Now we’re on our way, I hope this trip allows you some closure regarding their deaths.’

  India shifted in her seat. Closure regarding her anxieties in Africa may never be possible. Her greatest fear in making this trip was exposure. She sent up a prayer to every god she’d ever heard of in her travels across the world. She had only one prayer—that she could get in and out of Africa without her presence ever being discovered by the wrong people.

  Chapter 5

  Gabriel moved his hand from where it rested on India’s forearm, and reached for his glass of red wine. One thing was clear. He needed to seriously re-evaluate his take on India because all his assumptions had been without foundation.

  No wonder she’d called him arrogant and rude. The behaviour he’d exhibited toward her had been appalling. Thoroughly appalling. Her life had been anything but a fairytale, and although he’d dubbed her Cinderella after she’d vanished from the ball, it hit him now that he was no Prince Charming. If anything, it was more accurate to label India as the Beauty in their relationship, while he’d acted like the Beast. Initially he’d based his assumptions on her presence at that blasted masquerade ball—and the story Marco had fed him about her leaving with the sultan’s son.

  Gabriel took a sip of the wine. He still found it difficult to believe his friend had warned India she was about to leave the ball with an engaged man. It was virtually impossible to credit that Marco had invented the whole story about India flirting with the sultan’s son.

  Marco was genuinely trying to protect you from making a mistake, the voice of reason asserted. Besides, you had no right to ask India to leave with you from that ball when you were engaged to Angelique.

  Not Gabriel’s most honourable action. In fact, there was nothing honourable about his behaviour with India. Not his outright disdain toward her, not his unfounded suspicion that she was a woman who was profiting from charitable works, not the way he’d bullied her into accompanying him to Africa, and certainly not his determination to have her break up with her fiancé and to claim her as his lover.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  She’d been his sister’s very close friend. A friend who’d had an incredibly tough upbringing—exposed constantly to traumatic circumstances when she should’ve been able to enjoy a carefree childhood.

  Gabe should’ve treated her better.

  When it was clear she needed someone to look out for her, he’d been intent on finding her lacking—on finding something bad to expose and, given half the chance, he would’ve taken away from her the two things that meant the most to her—her fiancé and her position at the foundation.

  What a vengeful bastard he’d been. Worse, his vengeance had been motivated by injured pride—she’d walked away from him and he’d never stopped wanting her.

  He watched as she raised her glass to her lips, then tore his gaze away when her tongue tip darted out to lick a droplet of the Pinot Noir from her lower lip. The small action—the sight of the tip of her tongue against her lip—brought back erotic memories. Memories of the sinuous glide of her tongue against his as they’d conducted a seductive oral duel—memories that stirred his libido back into life.

  Regret kicked his libido back down again. He’d had no right to those stolen kisses. No right to the liberties he’d taken with her—even if she’d seemed to welcome his actions.

  Hell! He’d just admonished himself for his behaviour and now here he was lusting after her again. Being with her tied him up in knots. He had to regain his control. He had to reclaim his honour and treat her with the dignity and respect she deserved.

  ‘Mm. That’s a great red wine,’ she told him in a bright tone.

  Although she was making a brave effort to smooth everything over, he couldn’t just move on from the heavy discussion they’d just had and switch to a discussion on wine. Setting his glass down, he reached over, took the glass from her fingertips and placed it next to his. ‘India, I’m sorrier than I can express about the way I’ve behaved with you. Is it possible for you to forgive me—to start our association again on a fresh footing?’

  She held up her right hand, gesturing for him to stop. ‘There’s really nothing to forgive. When I think about it, I can understand you’d be suspicious of me, thinking I frequented the type of function where we met.’ She lowered her right hand to her lap. ‘I realise you had the best interests of the foundation in mind when you were prickly about how I came into the MD position. I didn’t help my own cause when I didn’t tell you straight up why I was qualified for the role. I’d say I’m probably just as much to blame as you are, because—and I attribute it to my stubborn streak—I could’ve doused the flames, but instead I went and poured more fuel onto them by not explaining things to you.’

  ‘You’re very generous.’ Possibly one of the most generous souls he’d ever met.

  What had Artarmon ever done to deserve her?

  ‘If there’s something I’ve learnt in all I’ve seen,’ she continued, ‘it’s that life’s pretty short and precarious. We should never hold grudges.’

  Amazing. She was just amazing. ‘What was your life like after you went to England to live?’

  ‘Incredible.’ There was awe in her tone and her expression seemed to mirror her memories, as though she relived the wonder she’d known. For several moments she pushed her head back into the headrest and sat with her eyes closed. A smile lifted the corners of her lush lips. Her eyelids parted and she looked at him as she said, ‘Things that people take for granted—running water, hot water, safety—all those little things were a marvel to me. Then there was technology and the ease of communication... All the everyday things people don’t even think twice about presented a whole new world to me, and loads of challenges.’

  ‘You said your grandmother encouraged you to attend the masquerade ball?’

  ‘Oh yes.’ She smiled again and all her features lit up as she thought of her grandmother. ‘She thought she was playing fairy godmother, getting me all kitted up in my masquerade costume and sending me off to the ball. She’d only suggested it because she’d heard from a friend that her granddaughter was attending. Gran thought it would be a way for me to meet friends.’

  ‘If only she’d known she was sending you to a regular den of iniquity.’

  ‘Shh.’ She held her finger up to her mouth in a theatrical gesture. ‘I didn’t tell her, and if her soul is with me right now, I don’t want her rolling in her grav
e.’

  Gabriel couldn’t resist the smile that tugged at his lips.

  ‘Gran stayed up waiting for me to return,’ India told him. ‘She was disappointed I came home so early. I had to be very vague in my descriptions when she asked me all about my evening.’

  ‘I’m guessing you didn’t mention Zorro.’ She coloured and he said, ‘My friend, Marco, was right when he told you I was engaged. You know that, of course.’

  She didn’t say anything, but the light died from her eyes as she gave a slight nod.

  ‘If we’re going to wipe the slate clean, I’d like to talk to you about it.’

  ‘There’s no need.’ She sat straighter. ‘It was a long time ago.’

  ‘There’s every need if we’re to go forward.’

  ‘Okay,’ she said, but her lack of eye contact and the grudging note in her voice told him she wasn’t happy about raking over the past.

  Disregarding her reticence, he said, ‘My marriage was political.’

  ‘Eden mentioned it.’

  He wasn’t surprised. ‘Angelique was a princess from the neighbouring principality of Malnisca, and there were some disputes over our borders. Her father agreed to withdraw his plan to challenge the border lines if I married her.’

  ‘Your sister confided in me about that too.’

  There was no question in his mind that Eden had treasured her friendship with the woman she’d spoken of as Lady Dee. He wondered whether Eden had also confided just how much she’d loathed her sister-in-law. ‘I’d only met Angelique a couple of times before our engagement was announced. My two closest friends were extremely concerned. Whilst they understood my duty, they wanted me to know the true character of the woman I was set to marry. You see, Angelique was part of the social set that organised the masquerade ball.’

  She nodded again and Gabe realised that his sister must’ve confided a great deal to her friend.

  ‘My friends took me to the ball to let me see Angelique’s true colours before I went through with the marriage.’

  The shift of her body, leaning towards him, was barely perceptible. ‘And?’

  ‘They heard she’d developed a migraine which kept her at home. Even they were shocked at what we saw going on so openly at that ball, but I could hardly condemn her or back out of the marriage arrangement on hearsay. We were about to leave when you ran into me.’

  ‘Quite literally.’

  He fixed her with a serious gaze. ‘You knocked the wind out of my sails, India. I’d never experienced such a compelling need to get to know a woman.’

  She shifted in her seat and avoided his eye contact.

  Gabe reached over and used his fingers on her chin to encourage her to meet his gaze. ‘I know you’re engaged now, but I want you to know that I wasn’t toying with you at the masquerade ball. I might’ve acted on impulse, but my attraction to you overwhelmed me to the point where I wanted to get to know you better.’

  ‘I’m not a one-night stand kind of girl,’ she told him unapologetically.

  ‘I’m not sure it would’ve been a one-night stand.’

  Her frown was instant. ‘But you were engaged.’

  ‘To a woman for whom I felt nothing other than duty.’

  ‘Are you telling me you would’ve asked me to be your mistress?’

  ‘Absolutely not!’ He stood up from his seat and his hand went to the nape of his neck, kneading at the tightness in his muscles there before he sat down again—this time on the seat that was opposite her. ‘As clichéd as it may sound, my intentions were honourable. I decided I should break up with Angelique and see where a relationship with you may lead.’

  ‘I...’ Her mouth fell open. She shut it, looked intently at him, and then angled her head as confusion clouded her features. ‘I’m not sure I know what to say.’

  ‘I have another confession to make.’ It had to be discussed. ‘When I asked you to come to Africa with me, I had an ulterior motive.’

  ‘Oh.’ She knew what he was about to say. It was evident in that single syllable response.

  ‘I was determined to claim you as my lover, India.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I know. You’re engaged.’

  The silence between them was heavy. He found himself willing her to tell him she was prepared to break her engagement and explore what lay between them, as he had been.

  Although she scraped her teeth against her lower lip in agitation, she said nothing.

  ‘It was unfair of me—ruthless of me, and very selfish. I hardly recognise myself when I’m with you,’ he continued. ‘I’ve lived all my life by a strict code of honour, and knowing you’re engaged should be enough to make me back off. I’m ashamed to say that I was planning to seduce you here in Misanti.’

  Her gaze lifted to his. ‘And now?’

  ‘Now I realise I read you all wrong. You deserve to be happy. You deserve the chance to marry, to settle into a happy life and raise a family. I can’t understand what you see in Artarmon, but you’ve chosen him. Obviously you see something in him and believe you can have a happy future together.’

  She seemed to take a while to digest his words. ‘So your original idea in bringing me to Misanti has changed?’

  ‘I can’t tell you I don’t desire you, India, because that would be a lie. You may not believe it, because I’ve acted like a completely arrogant louse around you, but I promise I won’t do anything to come between you and Artarmon. We’re here for a week. After that we’ll be in contact through the foundation. I hope we can work together amicably.’

  ‘I see,’ she said slowly. Was that a twinge of regret he saw around her mouth, or was he simply seeing what he wanted to see? ‘You’re an honourable man, Gabriel. Eden always said you were.’

  ‘Not always, it would seem.’

  ‘Nobody’s perfect.’ She hesitated before she said, ‘You said you wanted to get to know me better at the masquerade ball, but surely you wouldn’t have cancelled your engagement?’ Her violet eyes were troubled as she questioned what he’d said.

  ‘It wouldn’t have been the first time a royal engagement was broken. I don’t know how things would’ve turned out had you stayed. All I know is that my recent thoughts about an affair between us were selfish. I could definitely never offer you anything more than a passing affair. You deserve someone who can offer you a settled future—a family.’

  ‘Do you have another fiancée tucked away somewhere?’ The words were light—almost playful—yet there was tension in her posture. ‘Another princess earmarked to be the next Queen of Santaliana?’

  ‘No.’ There was no chance of that. ‘I’ll never marry again.’

  ‘But why? You’re still so young!’ The violet shade of her irises deepened to purple.

  ‘You have your whole life ahead of you. You could remarry and have children.’

  ‘No,’ he emphasised adamantly.

  She moved forward in her seat and reached across to him to place her hands on the fabric of his trousers at his knees. Her touch seared through him. ‘I don’t understand. Did you grow to love Angelique? Do you miss her?’

  ‘This isn’t about me.’ He stood up. ‘Be happy, India. You may not have had a particularly joyful childhood, but I hope your life in the years ahead will more than compensate for it.’

  He was doing the right thing—taking the only honourable course of action he could take.

  ‘Gabriel...’

  Oh God. If she kept looking up at him with so much confusion and distress in her gorgeous eyes, he’d become dishonourable again. He needed to put some space between them. It was the only way he’d stick to his resolve and treat her with the respect she deserved, rather than giving in to his most basic, selfish desires.

  With a casualness he was far from feeling, he retrieved his red wine and plate of cheeses from the arm of the seat next to hers. ‘I hope Artarmon realises how fortunate he is.’ The lucky bastard needed to man up and start treating India like she meant something to him. If he di
dn’t, Gabe just might have to pull him aside and make sure he changed his attitude. ‘I wish you both all the best with your future.’

  Gabriel moved back to his original seat, set down the wine and cheese and reached for his laptop. He was determined to attack the work he’d brought with him with absolute focus.

  ***

  India played Gabriel’s last words round in her head. He’d wished her all the best for her future. It was noble of him, but she didn’t have a future with Jeremy.

  What would Gabriel do if he knew? Would he still offer her a short-term affair?

  It didn’t matter. Gabriel wasn’t going to offer her an affair, and it was better that he didn’t.

  India thought of all she’d come to learn about the monarch of Santaliana from his sister. Eden had said he cared deeply about his siblings and his country.

  In a way, India and Gabriel were alike. Neither of them had experienced a carefree childhood. While India was helping the survivors of the Indonesian tsunami in Aceh at the impressionable age of fourteen, Gabriel was being crowned king. He was a young man by then—twenty-one. But he was a young man whose life had changed when he was a boy of seven.

  According to Eden, the moment her parents died, Gabriel became withdrawn and serious. Even then he’d been weighed down by responsibilities and was trained from dawn until dusk so he’d be ready to assume the monarch’s mantle.

  When other children were out playing in the schoolyard, Gabriel was indoors receiving private tutoring in politics, economics, history, languages and international affairs. Then, at thirteen, he’d been packed off to Eton College to rub shoulders with some of the young boys who would be among the most influential men of his time.

  Eden had mentioned Gabriel’s friends, Prince Khalid of Turastan and Prince Marco of Ralvinia. At least the strong bond between the three men was formed early and, as all men had been present at the foundation ball, India knew Gabriel still enjoyed their friendship. By contrast, India had no close female friends to speak of since Eden’s death.

  ‘One of my deepest wishes is that Gabriel would ease off on his responsibilities and learn to enjoy life,’ Eden had told her. ‘I wish he’d never married Angelique. I tried to talk him out of it. I begged him to put duty last and look for a woman he could love, but he wanted to settle the dispute over the kingdom’s borders and marriage to Angelique was the only way he could do it.’ Eden had sighed heavily. ‘He has this wretched sense of honour and responsibility that rules his life. It inhibits him and it’s going to make him miserable.’