The Royal’s Pretend Wife

by Sophia Lynn

  “Oh, how lovely,” she said with genuine pleasure. “It must be Swiss, yes?”

  Distracted, he looked up at the glass and, to her relief, stopped scowling at the camera.

  “Good eye,” he said after a moment. “It's a great deal like one at the art museum in Athens.”

  “The Pierre du Pleiss? The red? I love that one…”

  If he was a little startled at her knowledge of seventeenth-century glass work, he gave no sign. Instead, he allowed her to lead him into the living room, where the other royals were waiting.

  It was, Trinity thought, neatly done. She didn't mind being seen as the artistic one, even if that meant that she saw less drama than Serafina and Carolina. She had sat, one hand carelessly on Apolo's arm, as the host explained the show to the camera and also to the royals themselves.

  It was not as bad as she had feared. There was no real competition, no real reason for animosity. It was simply an excuse for people who would otherwise have little to do with one another to live close. At the end, it was nothing more than a way for people to see what their favorite royals looked like when they were simply living their lives.

  There would be a few tasks, but they were simple things. To Trinity's great relief, the show would not be going out live, which at least would reduce the amount of panic that she had. If worse came to worse, she knew that Apolo's lawyers would simply step in and commandeer the film.

  “And with that in mind,” said the host with a winning smile, “I hope that the six of you enjoy each other's company! You can be sure that our viewing audiences across Europe will be enjoying their time with you!”

  After that, the shooting was done for the night, allowing them to rest until the show began in earnest the next morning. An overawed intern showed them to their luxurious suite, and after the door closed behind them, Apolo sighed, rubbing his forehead with one weary hand.

  “Well, that wasn't disastrous,” he said.

  “I have to agree,” she said, flopping down on their elegant chaise longue. “I'm pleased that we're being cast as the grownups, I think.”

  He frowned at her. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Oh, you didn't notice?” Well, he was new to entertainment. “Jozef and Serafina are going to be the villains, the ones who hate each other so much that they're going to make us hate them too. Antonio and Carolina are going to be the impassioned young lovers, who will do anything for love and might also make us hate them. You and I, because we didn't come in cursing or nearly making love in front of the camera, are likely going to be the adults.”

  “Is…that a good thing to be?”

  She shot him an amused look. “Well, would you rather I take a swing at you over breakfast? I'm sure that our host would adore that.”

  He smiled a little wryly. “Please don't. I still have very little idea what is going on, so I'm prepared to bow to your superior experience. If we've been cast as the sane couple, I'm going to run with that. Any other good advice you can give me?”

  She thought for a moment, mentally reviewing what they had done together that day.

  “You're doing well right now,” Trinity said thoughtfully. “At the moment, you are coming across as a man who's not quite sure why he's there, half-convinced it's a waste of time and good-humored in spite of it. That's a good place to be. That's safe.”

  Apolo raised an eyebrow. “And you?”

  “Well, for me, it's a little different. Men get a lot more leeway to be grouchy and suspicious about things than women. If I tried that, most people would start to whisper that I was a spoilsport or a shrew. As it is, I'm pushing the fact that I think that this is all darling and that everything is delightful. I'm touching you a great deal, so I probably look a little more into you than you’re into me.”

  To her surprise, Apolo frowned.

  “I don't like that,” he said. When he caught her puzzled look, he quickly amended it. “I mean that I don't think that an unequal partnership is something that we want people to see, that's all. I want to make it very clear that we have a real chemistry, a real romance.”

  Trinity nodded briskly. “That makes sense. It will certainly reflect well on you as a modern and equality-driven royal…”

  He looked a little uncertain about that, but he nodded. “So what do I do to make it look as if I am madly in love with you?”

  For some reason, she hesitated. It felt strange to tell a man how he should treat her if he was in love with her, but if she were honest, that was exactly what her job was here.

  “Well, start with touching me, and not just romantically. People who are into each other touch a great deal, just as a matter of default. We can be a casual-kiss couple if you want to be, or we can just lightly touch each other throughout the day. Basically, the more casual about it we are, the more natural it will look.”

  “And is that something we should rehearse as well?”

  She looked up at him warily. after their night of passion in Spain, they had hurried to get on the plane to London. Since then, they hadn’t had the chance to touch base at all about what had happened. If she were being purely professional and mercenary about it, she would have been pleased that she had such good chemistry with her co-star. If she wasn't…her heart beat faster when she looked at him. Sometimes, when she glanced at him, she could feel his hands moving over her pale body and waking up every single nerve in her.

  “I think it will come naturally,” she said at last. “We…we have a lot of natural rapport with one another. It's something they would look for if they were casting us as husband and wife.”

  He tilted his head to one side, studying her with a kind of predatory patience.

  “Rapport…That sounds very much like something an actress would say, little gata.”

  “I am an actress,” she said, refusing to allow him to cow her. “That is what I am here for. I cannot help it if I am good at my job.”

  There was a faint scrim of ice over his features, but he nodded at her politely enough.

  “Then will say that I am pleased for the rapport that we have, and I hope it will allow us to be successful.”

  She bit her lip. When he stood up to go, it took everything she had to call him on the distance he put between them.

  “Don't do that,” she said, and he turned to look at her. His eyes were cool, and he looked at her as if she was some secretary or aide who had made a minor mistake. Trinity knew that was wrong, and she knew that she had to fix it if they stood a chance.

  “Okay. Listen. You hired me for my skills and my expertise, is that correct?”

  “Yes, that's correct.”

  “Then you can't get angry at me for being good at the thing that I do. Don't get cold like that. Don't hold me in contempt because I am being a good wife. It's not very fair to me, and if you don't care about that, then at least care about the fact that it will transfer over very, very quickly when it comes time to be ourselves in front of the camera.”

  She had kept her voice level throughout the speech, but there was a part of her that wanted to make a much more impassioned plea. She stomped on it quickly, because no matter what her heart had to say, there was no room for it in this conversation.

  There was a fire in Apolo's eye. For a moment, she thought that he would simply dismiss her out of hand. Then, to Trinity's relief, he nodded reluctantly.

  “You're right,” he said. “I'll admit, I am in over my head. I had not expected it to be so. We are performing, and sometimes I am entirely swept up in it. Other times, I remember that it is just a performance, and that I am alone with these feelings.”

  “Not alone,” Trinity said, pleased to be back on familiar ground. “Every good performer feels what they are doing. It is not a cold thing. The connection is real, believe me. The only issue is when we take it for more than it is.”

  Apolo winced, ever so slightly, but he nodded. “Very well. How can we maintain the connection without fooling ourselves into m
istaking it for more?”

  Trinity thought for a moment. “I can think of one way,” she offered. “To maintain our connection, we could sleep together. To make sure we don't read more into it, we can keep it at sleeping together.”

  It was only her extensive training that allowed her to make the offer as serenely as she did. Inside were a dozen voices, all shouting at her for different reasons. She shouldn't get so close. That wasn't close enough. She was shooting them in the foot. She was doing something terrible.

  Apolo didn't have her training. A number of different emotions flickered over his face, too fast for her to read. Finally, he nodded.

  “Very well. That sounds sensible enough to me.”

  That was where they left it, and Trinity was proud of herself for such a clever compromise until it came time to go to bed.

  She had a long sleeveless cotton nightgown that went right down to her knees. It was a prim thing, comfortable but hardly sexy. When Apolo came into the master bedroom, she was pleased to see that he wore a pair of soft sleep pant. It was normal. There was nothing too difficult or sexual about it.

  “Good night, Apolo,” she whispered into the dark.

  The bed shifted under his weight. The bed was huge. They could have slept sprawled without touching each other. Then she felt him gather her towards him, holding her close as if they had slept together for years.

  “Good night, little gata,” he whispered in her ear.

  His warm breath tickled against her skin, making her stir. Suddenly, she realized that this was going to be a lot harder than she initially thought it was going to be

  This could be a very long three weeks, she thought to herself.

  Chapter Six

  The next day, she felt as if she hadn't slept at all. She wandered out in a light but expensive silk dress to find that Apolo was already with the other couples in the main living area.

  “Good morning,” he said, a slight smile on his face. “You were sleeping so soundly that I did not want to wake you up.”

  “Hardly my fault,” she said without thinking, coming to sit next to him on the couch. She didn't realize how that sounded until Serafina snorted.

  “You two have been married too long to be going it at it like newlyweds,” the blond said. “How long have you been married anyway.”

  “A year or so,” Apolo answered for them both. “Give or take. It doesn't feel like that at all though.”

  “No,” Trinity said, falling into her role. “Sometimes it feels as if it has been no time at all.”

  Without thinking about what she was doing, she reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind his ear. When he smiled at her, she felt herself warm to her toes.

  “Ah, we have our assignments,” said Antonio, waving an envelope. “Shall we see what our challenge is today?”

  It turned out that they were splitting the couples up. The men were going out into London to purchase presents for their wives. The women were staying at home to cook dinner for their husbands.

  “Oh, unfair!” cried Carolina. “I haven't cooked anything but eggs, and that was in college!”

  “It's a good thing I like eggs,” said Antonio, who seemed oblivious to his wife's strange edges. Trinity assumed that they were a good match because of it.

  On the other end of the spectrum was Serafina, who looked as if she was contemplating adding poison to the recipe, and Josef, who looked befuddled about the idea of actually buying his wife something of his own accord.

  “I suppose I can't opt for sending for our cook in Athens,” Trinity said with a sigh. “I should be able to come up with something.”

  “Well, I could always bring us back take out…” Apolo started with a grin, but she gave him a light slap on the shoulder.

  “Go bring me back something pretty,” she laughed. “I'm not so bad as all that.”

  The truth was that while Trinity had grown up eating some of the finest cuisine in the world, her year in Los Angeles had forced her to learn her way around a stove. She wasn't a natural at it, the way she was at acting, but she found the act of preparing food singularly comforting. After all, if she could make halfway decent food in a kitchen that was a quarter of the size of her walk-in closet at her father's house, she figured that she would be able to make something decent in the commercial grade kitchen at the manor.

  All of the ingredients in London were available to her, and she decided to keep things simple. If she had wanted to cheat, she would have stuck with a good olive and cheese platter, but Trinity thought that she should put in some kind of effort.

  After a few searches on her phone and brief consultation with the interns who were handling the groceries, she decided on making fajitas. They were a simple enough food that were quite tasty, and the fresh ingredients would look wonderful on the plates.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Serafina carelessly slinging together flour and lard for some kind of savory pastry. Next to Serafina was Carolina, who seemed to be boiling tomatoes, though for what purpose, she didn't know.

  The camera veered in her direction, and she looked up, smiling just a little shyly. Abruptly, it occurred to Trinity that she was on television not as a vision of ice and confidence, a character, but truly as herself.

  “And what are you making for Prince Apolo?” the host asked, gazing at her food with interest.

  “Well, I grew up within striking distance of Texas,” she said, “and though I love authentic Mexican food, there is a large space in my heart for Tex-Mex. I've always loved how brightly colored fajitas are, and they provide a filling meal with a lot of flavor.”

  “I see, I see. Have you ever made this dish for Prince Apolo before?”

  She hesitated before shaking her head.

  “No. I'll be honest, I don't cook normally. We…we have plenty of people who will do it for us, and they do such a good job. I'm glad to have the opportunity—it feels more…intimate, doesn't it?”

  She hid her sudden real attachment to the task with a soft laugh, shaking her head.

  It was enough for the camera, at least, which roved on to Carolina, who was now doing something with lamb shanks.

  The fajitas went together quickly, as she knew they would. She set everything to marinate in the refrigerator until Apolo and the other royal men came home. At some point, Serafina came to sit next to her in the living room, trailed by the camera. It was astonishing how easy it was to dismiss the camera. Trinity warned herself not to make the mistake of doing so.

  “You're finished quickly,” Serafina said, and there was a distinct derisive note in her voice.

  “Not really,” Trinity said with a shrug. “I'm marinating. In a few hours, I'll go back and start the real cooking before our husbands come back.”

  “Bah, they get to go shop while we slave over a stove, where is the justice in that?”

  Trinity wanted nothing more than to leave the spoiled princess to her tantrum, but she forced herself to be still, only raising an eyebrow.

  “I thought it was fun,” she said. “I might not want to do it every day.” She didn't, she really, really didn't. “But for today? I think it was just fine. After all, it is not like they are shopping for themselves.”

  Serafina's irritated look was just short of sneering.

  “And you think that he's going to get you something you actually want? How long have you been married again?”

  Trinity hesitated. Whatever Apolo brought home, she knew that she was going to act as if she loved it. That was the deal. She was smart enough to know that there was really no such thing as reality in reality television, but at the very least, she had to be convincing.

  “I hope that I'm going to love it,” she said honestly. “Sometimes, I'm not sure what he's thinking, but I think that after the time we’ve spent together, I always know that his heart's in the right place, even if his head is in the clouds.”

  Serafina stopped just short of rolling her eye
s at Trinity, and then Carolina came in, fretful about the food that she had made. Trinity checked the time and realized she needed to throw the fajitas in the skillet, if she was going to have the meal ready for Apolo. As she cooked, she contemplated her counterparts.

  Both of these women were actresses in their own way, Trinity realized. They had been raised in the limelight, if not nobility themselves, then wealthy enough that it made no difference. She wondered with a slight sadness whether the performance stretched to cover what happened after the cameras were off. She had to assume that they were playing only slightly exaggerated versions of themselves, but sometimes, they seemed to be such caricatures of real people that she couldn't be sure.

  Inwardly, she shrugged. They might simply think the same of her. Her thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of the men, joined by the host.

  “Well, now, it only seems fair that we eat and then see to the presents,” the host said with a wink. “Let's see what these divinely beautiful brides have cooked up.”

  Trinity noted with satisfaction that Apolo was getting less wary of the camera. He still stared at it from time to time, but now he was beginning to ignore it. Honestly, if he weren't a prince, he was quite handsome enough to make it as an actor, and she knew that she would always welcome him as her leading man.

  In the palatial dining room, the women served their husbands. Trinity could see how sour Serafina and Carolina were about this. They were used to being served, not the other way around. Trinity found herself more amused than anything else. After all her time in the restaurants, getting to sit down to enjoy the meal would be a welcome treat.

  To the surprise of absolutely no one, Jozef and Serafina ended up quarreling over the mess of pastry she had produced.

  “Did you even try following a recipe?” he asked, poking at the gray mass.

  “Why should I?” she sneered. “I know that you would never bother sitting down to the meal…”

  It ended with her throwing the cashmere scarf he had bought her into his face and storming off, Jozef on her heels ready to finish the argument.