Convenient Bride for the King

by Hunter Kelly

  Much.

  That they were socialising now, the same day she’d refused Theo’s offer, spoke volumes for Augustus’s support of the man.

  So much for blood being thicker than brotherhood.

  She turned away fast when she caught her brother’s gaze because this betrayal, on top of Casimir’s rejection, on top of Theo’s demeaning form letter, almost brought her to her knees. So much for men and all their fine promises. You couldn’t trust any of them.

  The chief press advisor for the palace appeared at her side, his eyes sharp but his smile in place. ‘Your Highness, you look pale. May I get you anything?’

  ‘How about a brand-new day?’ she suggested quietly. ‘This one’s rotten, from the core out.’

  ‘Tomorrow will be a better day,’ he said.

  ‘Promises.’ Her voice was light but her heart was heavy.

  ‘I promise we’re doing our best to shine the brightest light we can on everything you do for us, milady. The entire team is on it. No one dismisses our princess lightly. No one has earned that right.’

  ‘Thank you, Giles.’ She blinked back rapid tears and looked away. ‘I appreciate your support.’

  And then two more people joined them. One was Theo and the other one was Augustus. Years of burying her feelings held her in good stead as she plastered a smile on her face and set about greeting them.

  ‘Your Majesties,’ she said, curtseying to them, and something of her hurt must have shown on her face as she rose because Augustus frowned and started to say something. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it. ‘What a surprise.’

  ‘A pleasant one, I hope,’ said Theo as he took her gloved hand and lifted it to his lips.

  ‘Oh, we all live in hope,’ she offered. ‘I live in hope that one day the people I hold dear will have my back, but that day’s not here yet.’

  ‘Yes, it is; you just can’t see it,’ Theo countered. ‘I’m here, welcome or not, with the ulterior motive of being seen with you in public.’

  ‘Indeed, I can see the headlines now. Ice Princess Falls for Playboy King. Liesendaach Gives It a Week.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Theo didn’t discount it. ‘Or I can give your publicity officer here a quote about how much respect I have for you as a person and as a representative of the royal family of Arun. I can mention that it’s no hardship whatsoever to continue to offer you my friendship, admiration and support. I can add that I’m not at all dismayed that you’re now free of your ridiculous childhood betrothal to the new King of Byzenmaach. And we can see how that goes down.’

  The press advisor melted away with a nod in Theo’s direction. Theo and her brother stayed put.

  ‘Damage control, Moriana. Look it up,’ Theo said curtly.

  ‘Well, I guess you’d know all about that.’

  ‘I do.’ But he didn’t defend his wild past or the chaos he occasionally still stirred. He never did. Theodosius of Liesendaach didn’t answer to anyone.

  A small—very tiny—part of her respected that.

  ‘So,’ she said. ‘Welcome to my annual Children’s Hospital Charity Auction. Have you seen the catalogue?’

  ‘I have not.’

  ‘I’ll have one sent over.’ She nodded towards some nearby display cases. ‘By all means, look around. You might see something you like.’

  ‘You won’t accompany me?’

  ‘No, I’m working.’ He’d dressed immaculately, as usual. No one wore a suit quite the way Theo did. He was broad-shouldered and slim-hipped. Tall enough to look down on almost everyone in the room. His cropped blond hair was nothing remarkable and his face was clean-shaven. It wasn’t a pretty face. A little too stern and altogether too craggy. Lips that knifed towards cruel when he was in a bad mood. His eyes were his best feature by far. She might as well give the devil his due. They were icy blue-grey and often coolly amused. They were amused now.

  ‘I have other duties to attend and people to greet,’ she continued bluntly. ‘How fortunate Augustus is here to take care of you. What a good friend.’

  ‘Indeed he is.’ Theo’s gaze had yet to leave hers. ‘I like it when you wear red. The colour suits you and so do the pearls. My compliments to your wardrobe mistress.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to let her know. I mean, it’s not as if I could ever be in charge of my own clothing choices, right? Who knows what I’d come up with?’ There was something different about Theo tonight. Something fierce and implacable and hungry. She bared her teeth right back at him. ‘Any other underhand compliments you’d like to shower me with before I take my leave?’

  Augustus winced. ‘Moria—’

  ‘No!’ She cut him off. ‘You don’t get to diminish me either. All your fine talk this morning of supporting my decisions, of letting me be. I believed you. Yet here we are.’

  ‘Your brother’s not at fault,’ Theo said smoothly. ‘Moriana, we need to talk.’

  ‘About your proposal? My reply is in the mail, seeing as that’s your preferred method of communication. Seeing as you’re here, I dare say I can give you the highlights. I refuse. It’s not you, it’s me. Or maybe it is you and all those other women I’d have to live up to, I don’t know. Either way, my answer’s no. I am done listening to the two-faced, self-serving babble of kings. Now, if you’ll both excuse me.’

  ‘Go. Greet your guests. We can talk after you’re done here. I’ll wait,’ said Theo the Magnanimous. ‘I’m good at waiting.’

  Moriana laughed. She couldn’t help it. ‘Theo, you may have waited for your crown but you’ve never waited on a woman in your life.’

  She was close enough to see his jaw clench. Close enough to see hot temper flare in those eyes that ran more towards grey tonight than blue. ‘Oh, Princess. Always so wrong.’

  It wasn’t easy to turn away from the challenge in his gaze but she did it, more mindful than ever of Aury’s warning. This wasn’t the boy she remembered from childhood or the teenager who’d poked and prodded at her until she’d snapped back. This was the man who’d watched and waited for ten long years before rising and taking his country back. This was the hawk in the granary.

  And maybe, just maybe, she was the mouse.

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, after personally greeting all the guests in attendance and seeing that they were well lubricated, Moriana looked for Theo again. Not that she had to look hard. She always knew where Theo was in a room, just as she always tracked where her security detail was, and where her brother was. It was an awareness that would have made a seasoned soldier proud and she’d been trained for it since birth.

  Know your exits. Know where your support is. Know where your loved ones are at any given moment. Theo wasn’t a loved one but he’d always been included in that equation for he’d been a treasured child of royalty too. The last of his line and therefore important.

  Casimir, her former intended, had also been the last of his line and she’d always tracked his whereabouts too, whenever they’d been at functions together. She’d misplaced Casimir on occasion—no one was perfect. She’d misplaced him on several occasions.

  Many occasions.

  Moving on.

  Theo didn’t look up from the display he was browsing as she made her way to his side. He didn’t look up even as he began to speak. ‘You’re good at this,’ he said.

  ‘Thank you.’ She wanted to believe he could pay her a genuine compliment, not that he ever had before. ‘I’ve been hosting this particular fundraiser for the past seven years and I have it down to a fine art, pardon the pun. Collecting the auction items, curating the guest list, knowing what people want and what they’ll pay to have it. Knowing who else they might want to see socially. People say I have a knack for fundraising, as if I simply fling things together at the last minute and hope for the best, but I don’t. I put a lot of work into making sure these evenings flow like water and do what they’re meant to do.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it,’ he said, finally turning his gaze on her. ‘Hence the complime
nt.’ He tilted his head a fraction. ‘You’re an exceptional ambassador for your people and you’d have been an exceptional asset to Casimir as queen consort. It’s Byzenmaach’s loss.’

  He wasn’t the first person to say that to her tonight and he probably wouldn’t be the last. ‘I doubt Casimir’s feeling any loss.’ She didn’t like how thready she sounded. As if she’d been stretched too thin for far too long.

  ‘He hurt you.’ Three simple words that cracked her wide open.

  ‘Don’t. Theo, please. Leave it alone. It’s done.’

  She turned away, suddenly wanting to get away from the sedate auction room and the gossip and the expectations that came with being a Princess of Arun. Perfect composure, always. Unrivalled social graces. A memory trained to remember names and faces. She had a welcome speech to give in fifteen minutes. Who would give it if she walked out?

  He stopped her before she’d taken a step. The subtle shift of his body and the force of his silent appraisal blocked her retreat. ‘You’re not coping,’ he said quietly. ‘Tell me what you need.’

  She didn’t know why his softly spoken words hurt so much, but they did. ‘Damn you, Theo. Don’t do this to me. Don’t be attentive all of a sudden because you want something from me. Do what you usually do. Fight. Snarl. Be you. Give me something I know how to respond to.’

  He stilled, his face a granite mask, and she had the sudden, inexplicable feeling she’d just dealt him a brutal blow. And then his gaze cut away from her face and he took a deep breath and when he looked at her again he wore a fierce and reckless smile she knew all too well. ‘I’ll fight you mentally, physically, whatever you need, until we both bleed,’ he promised, his voice a vicious caress. ‘Just as soon as you stop breaking in front of me. I know your family trained you to hide weakness better than this. It’s what you do. It’s all you do. So do it.’

  Yes. This was what she needed from him, and to hell with why. No one said she was the most well-balanced princess in the universe.

  Thread by thread she pulled herself together, drawing on the anger she sensed in him to bolster her own. Build a wall—any wall. Anger, righteous indignation, icy disdain, attention to duty, whatever it took to keep the volcano of feelings in check.

  ‘Have you seen the Vermeer?’ she asked finally, when she had herself mostly back under control. ‘I thought of you when it first came in. It would round out Liesendaach’s Dutch collection.’

  He studied her for what felt like hours, before nodding, as if she’d do, and then held out his arm for her to claim. ‘All right, Princess. Persuade me.’

  * * *

  Moriana carved out the time to show Theo the most interesting pieces in the auction. She made her speech and the auction began. And by the end of the evening a great deal of money had been raised for the new children’s hospital wing and Theo had almost purchased the Vermeer for a truly staggering sum. In the end the painting had gone to a gallery and Moriana dearly hoped they needed a tax write-down soon because they clearly hadn’t done their sums. That or they really wanted to support the children’s hospital.

  ‘I thought you’d lost your mind,’ she said when only a handful of guests remained and he came to congratulate her on the evening’s success. ‘Not even you could justify that amount of money for a lesser Vermeer.’

  ‘But for you I tried.’

  His smile reminded her of young boys and frog ponds and sultry, still evenings, back when Theo’s parents had still been alive. Augustus had always caught his frogs with quick efficiency and, once examined, had let them go. Theo, on the other hand, had revelled in the chase. He’d been far more interested in which way they jumped and where they might try to hide than in actually catching them. To this day, Moriana didn’t know what that said about either Theo or her brother.

  ‘Are you ready for that drink yet?’ he asked.

  ‘What drink?’

  ‘The one we’re going to have tonight, when you graciously reconsider my proposal.’

  ‘Oh, that drink. We’re not having that drink any time soon. You’re getting a form letter rejection in the post, remember?’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘I did. You’ll receive it tomorrow, unless you’re still here. I assume Augustus has offered you palace hospitality?’

  Theo inclined his head.

  Of course. ‘Then perhaps you should find him. I’m about to retire for the evening.’

  ‘You said you’d give me five minutes of your time.’

  ‘I said nothing of the sort. And yet here I am. Giving you my time.’ If she’d worn a watch she’d have glanced at it.

  ‘I gave you a fight when you needed one earlier.’ Since when had his voice been able to lick at her like flames? ‘I didn’t want to, but I did. Here’s what I want in return. One kiss. Here or in private. Put your hands on me, just once. You have my permission. I’ll even keep mine to myself. And if you don’t like touching and kissing me I’ll withdraw my pursuit at once. Does that not sound fair and honest? Am I being unjust?’

  Gone was the teasing menace of her childhood and the reckless philanderer of her youth. In their place stood a man in pursuit, confident and dangerous.

  He’d been waiting for her when she’d finished her speech, approval in his eyes and a glass of champagne in hand that he handed to her. Faultlessly attentive. Silently supportive.

  Tell me what you need.

  A fight. A snarl. Barbed compliments. His attention. Something other than rejection to focus on.

  ‘One drink. One kiss,’ he murmured. ‘Do you need to collect a coat of some sort? Because I’m ready to leave.’

  ‘Why would I leave with you? Why would I indulge you in this?’

  ‘Because I have something you want. Several somethings.’

  ‘No, you don’t. If you had anything I wanted, I’d be giving your proposal all due consideration.’

  ‘Position.’ His eyes never left her face.

  ‘Yawn.’ She was Princess of Arun.

  ‘Passion. You’ve never felt it but you want it, nonetheless.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She was honest enough to concede his point. ‘But you’re not the only man to inspire passion in a woman. Plenty do. I can find passion without you.’

  His eyes flashed silver.

  ‘Temper, temper,’ she said.

  ‘Commitment,’ he offered next.

  ‘We all exercise that. I’m already committed to various causes, not to mention my country and my family. Some would say I’m blindly overcommitted to many things and receive little in return, and they’re probably right. Commitment is overrated.’

  His eyes never left her face. ‘Commitment to you.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  HE WAS GOOD at this. Aury had warned her. He knew exactly what to offer in order to make her heart thump with painful hope and longing.

  ‘Let’s talk about this somewhere without the avid audience,’ he muttered.

  She glanced beyond him discreetly, only to realise he was right. Those who had yet to leave seemed to have no intention of doing so with her and Theo putting on a show right in front of their eyes. Even Augustus was staring at them, his eyes full of clear warning.

  Don’t make a spectacle of yourself. Remember your place.

  Don’t embarrass me.

  Don’t make me regret that we’re related.

  ‘Five minutes,’ she said to Theo, as she nodded minutely at her brother—message received—and headed for the door.

  Moriana lived in a wing of the royal palace. She’d furnished it to her taste, raided the palace’s art collection until she was satisfied with the result and had purchased whatever pieces she felt were missing. Augustus could complain about her spending—and he did—but her ledger was in the black.

  In the space of five years she’d tripled the value of the royal art collection and outlaid only a fraction of that cost. She wheeled and dealed, had an eye for a bargain and the sensibilities of a curator. And, of course, she had the throne of Arun behi
nd her.

  She had dual degrees in politics and fine arts. Connections the world over. She was the ambassador for a dozen different charities and she took those roles seriously. She was educated, accomplished and blessed with favourable looks, or so she’d been told. She was in a position to make a difference.

  And nervous. Dear heaven, she was nervous as Theo prowled around her sitting room, staring at her furnishings and possessions as if they held secrets he wanted to know.

  ‘You wanted a drink?’ she asked.

  ‘If you’re having one.’ He put his hands in his trouser pockets and continued to study the sculpture on a small side table. ‘It’s fake,’ he said of the copied Rodin.

  ‘I know. But it’s a good copy and it’s still very beautiful.’ She’d paid a pittance for it. ‘How do you know it’s a fake?’ Not many would. Not without examining it thoroughly, and he hadn’t.

  ‘Because my father gifted the real one to my mother on their tenth wedding anniversary.’

  Oh, well. There you go. ‘I have Scotch.’

  ‘Perfect.’

  She poured him a serve and then doubled it because it wouldn’t do to have her serve be twice the size of his.

  He was standing by the fireplace and she crossed the room with all the grace she could muster and handed him the drink.

  ‘I like this room,’ he said. ‘It’s more comfortable than I thought it would be.’

  ‘I use it,’ she said simply, and tried not to look at his lips but they were impossible to ignore now that he’d put the idea of kissing into her head. ‘I like jewel colours and textured fabrics. I like comfortable furniture.’

  ‘Your taste is exquisite.’ He sipped his drink. ‘Does Augustus know you serve his special Scotch?’

  ‘Does he need to know?’ she countered. ‘Because, frankly, he’s slightly precious about it.’ She took a sip of hers. ‘You sent me a form letter proposal.’