Seducing the Princess

by Diane Alberts

  “I didn’t. I was going to… But a prince beat me to it,” Gordon said.

  Jake snorted again. “A prince? Seriously?”

  “She is a princess, Sherlock,” Gordon said.

  “How could she marry you, then?” Jake asked, scratching his head. He sounded a little more sober…but not much. “Don’t princesses have to marry princes?”

  “Apparently not,” Gordon said, waving a hand dismissively. “But it doesn’t matter. She decided to marry a real prince instead of me.”

  “So you proposed, and she said no?” Cooper asked.

  “I didn’t get a chance. The other guy beat me to it.”

  “Then she might change her mind,” Jake said. “Women do that shit all the time.”

  Gordon closed his eyes and prayed for patience. The normally serious and quiet Jake was neither of those things tonight. On any other night, Gordon would love seeing this side of his friend. But tonight, he could use the serious and smart version of his buddy. “Yeah. I know.”

  Jake nodded. “Glad to help. I’m going home now.”

  “Wait. I’ll catch a cab with you.” Cooper grabbed Jake’s arm, holding him back. “Since I seem to be the love doctor tonight, I’ll give you some unsolicited advice. Maybe you should ask her even though you think she’ll say no. Being rejected is better than wondering what could have been.”

  “Maybe, but she’s taken.” Gordon shrugged. “She kind of always was, even if I forgot for a minute.”

  “Talk to her. Don’t wait until it’s too late.” Cooper clapped Jake on the back. “Let’s get you home, buddy.”

  Jake yawned. “K. Night, man.”

  “Night,” Gordon said.

  “Lock up when you leave,” Cooper said. As he passed, he stopped. “And let me know if you’re moving to some small bumble-ass country in Europe.”

  “I’m not. She’s marrying someone else.”

  “Change your destiny, man.” Cooper left, calling out one last time. “Talk to her.”

  Gordon watched them leave, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring he’d bought for Belle. It was easily half the size of the one Prince George had gotten her.

  Yet another reason she’d never pick him.

  “Idiot,” he said, his empty voice filling the office.

  “You’re not an idiot,” Holt, the IT guy of the office, said.

  “Jesus,” Gordon said. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “I was just leaving.” Holt pushed his thick-framed black glasses up his nose. He wore a checkered shirt and a crisp pair of khakis, paired with a vest. “You okay, man?”

  He looked like such a straight-laced computer geek, but Gordon had a feeling he was the opposite of that typical stereotype. He might look quiet and harmless, but he had that whole wounded warrior shit going on—including the inner rage that went with it. Just like they all did. His blue eyes…they were empty and hollow and lonely.

  So fucking lonely.

  Gordon knew that feeling all too well.

  “Yeah. Just have some female drama going on.”

  Holt nodded. “That’s why I avoid any relationships. I’ve got enough shit going on without throwing a woman into the equation. Without having to deal with someone else’s baggage.”

  “I used to feel that way, too,” Gordon said. “Maybe I’ll get there again.”

  “I hope so, for your sake.” Holt shifted the bag higher on his shoulder. “I’m going out for a drink. Wanna come with me? You can tell me all about your princess while we drink, if you’d like.”

  He’d never really hung out with Holt outside of work, but the guy seemed cool enough. Truth be told, he’d do pretty much anything to avoid going home. Having a few drinks with a fellow military man was the least of the things he could do to avoid seeing his empty bed. To avoid missing her.

  “Sure, but I’m not pouring my feelings out. We’ll drink, but no talking about her.”

  Holt shrugged. “Whatever you say, man.”

  …

  Even though he’d planned on going straight home after he’d left Holt at the bar, somehow he ended up parking at Belle’s hotel. He sat in the parking lot, gripping the wheel tight and cursing himself out. He hadn’t meant to come here. Hadn’t meant to fuck with her life more than he already had.

  If she wanted to marry a prince, then good for her. She should. Except…she was supposed to marry him. She was supposed to be his.

  Cursing under his breath, he shoved out of the car and stalked to the door, each step growing surer. He didn’t hesitate when he wanted something. Didn’t give up. So why was he being such a pussy when it came to this? As he rode the elevator up, he went over everything he wanted to say to her in his head.

  She had to give herself a chance to be happy, while still helping her people. She had to stop living for other people and start living for herself. She had to give them a chance to fall in love, because he knew they could.

  It could be a love for the ages, or some sappy shit like that.

  But first, she had to fucking marry him.

  She could still change her mind. They weren’t married yet, her and George.

  The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out. Walking right up to her door, he raised his fist to knock. Before he could make contact, the door swung open.

  Instead of Belle, he met the eyes of her PR rep, Mary. And she was smiling. “Just the man we wanted to talk to.”

  Gordon dropped his hand back to his side. The evil woman was smiling. This couldn’t be good. Maybe she’d killed a helpless puppy or something. Surely nothing else would bring that woman joy. “Okay. What’s up?”

  “You’re off the hook. That should make you happy.”

  Gordon frowned. “This about George’s proposal?”

  “Prince George has decided he still wants to marry her,” Mary said, clapping her hands together under her chin. “So your services are no longer required. You’re free to go. Please refrain from being seen in public with her between now and when she leaves.”

  “What are you going to tell the country about those photos?” he asked.

  “We’re going to say it never happened. That it was all photoshopped.” She laughed. “It’s brilliant, really. They wouldn’t have believed it without Prince George, but he’s going to claim that she was with him when the photos were taken.”

  “And they’ll believe him,” Gordon said, his voice hollow.

  “Of course. He’s a prince.” Mary set down a folder. “This is the best possible solution. I’m glad Princess Isabelle was able to convince him to marry her after all this. We shouldn’t have doubted her powers of persuasion. She is her mother’s daughter, after all.”

  His gut twisted. That couldn’t be right. Sure, she might have taken advantage of the situation and said yes when asked, but she couldn’t have asked him. Could she have? No. He didn’t believe it. “She asked him?”

  “She had asked him to reconsider, yes. After you left, she went to see him. She thought it didn’t go well, but she was obviously wrong.” Mary studied him. “It was the right thing to do, and she knew it. Marrying you would solve the issue, but it wouldn’t help her country in the end.”

  “Jesus,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  She’d actually told him to leave, then sought out George behind his back. Asked him to marry her. He didn’t know why it hurt so much, but it did.

  Mary slammed a book shut. “You can’t possibly be upset about this. You’re free from any and all obligations you felt toward her.”

  “Maybe I wasn’t trapped in the first place.” He crossed his arms. “I like her. It’s not the worst thing in the world for us to be together.”

  “It is for her country. For her, too.”

  Gordon laughed, and it sounded harsh. “How so?”

  “She needs a man like George on the throne with her and so does her country. This isn’t just the lives of you and her. This is a whole country of people, counting on her to make the best
choice for everyone. If she chose you, and went for a long shot at love, then she’d regret it later. She’d know she made the wrong choice.” She paused. “And in the long run, she’d hate you for it.”

  Gordon swallowed hard. For the first time, the old hag made sense. Belle probably would resent him in the long run, if he convinced her to choose him. She knew she could do better than him. Hell, he knew it, too. He was a fucking wreck—just a normal guy, with normal amounts of money in his account. He lived a normal life in a normal house. Nothing about him was extraordinary…but everything about her was.

  It only made sense that she chose someone else.

  Someone more like her.

  Glancing away from the bedroom, he nodded once. “I’ll back off, if it’s what she truly wants.”

  “It doesn’t matter what she wants, personally. It’s bigger than that.” Mary smiled again. Just the simple gesture made him feel dirty. “Her country is hurting financially. Without Prince George’s coffers, it will fail. He will save her country, and she can, too, if she chooses him.”

  Well, shit. Now he really couldn’t mess with her.

  If she only had one way to save her country, how could he fuck with that? She’d hate him for sure. He couldn’t do that to her. And he couldn’t do it to himself, either.

  “I didn’t know you guys needed money,” he said.

  “We do.” The PR rep cleared her throat. “We need the story about the photoshopping to ring true. We need to know you won’t come out and sell a story proving she was with you.”

  Gordon stiffened. “I would never do that to her.”

  “We’re willing to offer you compensation, if you’re interested,” she continued, as if she hadn’t even heard him. “We’re offering—”

  He blinked at the exorbitant amount of money she threw out at him. He could pay off his mortgage with how much money she’d offered him. Curling his fists tight, he shook his head. “I thought you were hurting for money.”

  “This is from Prince George himself.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want his fucking money.”

  “We need to ensure your silence,” Mary said, her nostrils flaring. “Prince George has offered this as a show of good faith.”

  “I. Don’t. Want. Money.”

  “Suit yourself.” She cocked her head. “But you’ll stay quiet anyway?”

  He nodded once. “Even better than that, I’ll disappear from your lives for good. She leaves tomorrow, and we’ll never see each other again.”

  “Perfect. She’ll be back here with her fiancé soon.” She paused. “You should go home, before there’s an awkward run in with them.”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  Gordon took one last look at the room, lingering on the door to the bedroom, where he’d felt so close to her the other night, and then left.

  It was time to give up. He’d lost.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Isabelle paced on Gordon’s doorstep, her heart racing more and more with each step. It was almost ten o’clock, and he still wasn’t home. Where the heck had he gone after he left the theatre? She glanced down the driveway, nodding at the royal guard parked there. They’d tried to stop her from coming here, and she’d gone all princess on their asses, mimicking her mother when she wanted something done now.

  They hadn’t known what to do, so they’d driven her here.

  Now all she needed was for Gordon to show up.

  She nibbled on her nail and continued her pacing. Princesses don’t pace. Princesses don’t bite their nails. After a short pause, she continued doing both. She was done living by the rules. They didn’t get her anywhere. She wanted to live. Have fun. Be happy. All she needed was Gordon, and she could have and be all those things.

  What seemed like hours later, lights illuminated the porch, and she spun on her heel. She immediately recognized the headlights from his Mustang. She watched him get out of the car, and he stared at the cars parked on the street. Slowly, he turned toward her. She knew the exact moment he saw her.

  He stared her way, the moonlight shadowing his face. He looked…resigned. There was no other word for it. Then he walked away.

  Her mouth opened in shock, but then she bolted after him, balling her gown in her fists. “Hey! Wait!”

  He kept walking, his shoulders one tense line. “Go home, Princess.”

  “No. I—” she cried out, tripping over a rock in her haste to chase after him in heels. “Oof.”

  He caught her easily, like he always did. His grip on her was firm, but he let go right away. When he glanced away, his profile was in perfect illumination from the streetlights. He was so handsome, brave, and strong. Just the kind of man she wanted at her side—not some sniveling coward who masqueraded as a noble prince.

  He was the true prince.

  “Why are you here?” he asked.

  “I needed to talk to you.” She crossed her arms, a painful twist settling in her chest. He was acting so cold. “Why are you running away from me?”

  He snorted, but it sounded forced. “You’re the one running away from me, Princess. You’re going home tomorrow.”

  “That’s not fair.” She gripped her dress tight. “All along, you’ve known I had to go home at the end of my trip.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know it would be with a fiancé.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Is he in the car, watching us right now?”

  She licked her lips. “About that—”

  “I don’t want to hear all the reasons you chose him. More so than that, I don’t care.” He held his hands out. “We fucked. We had fun. It’s over. I’m a big boy. I’ll be okay. As a matter of fact, I’ll be great.”

  She recoiled back. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  This wasn’t Gordon. This wasn’t the man she’d come to know and care about. This wasn’t the man she wanted to be with. “But you…we…you were going to ask me to marry you.”

  “I never said a fucking word about that.” He laughed. It sounded cruel and foreign. “I said I had a question. I was going to ask you if you were okay.”

  Princesses don’t cry in public.

  She shook her head, blinking rapidly. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m lying?” He finally looked at her, but his brown eyes looked cold as ice. “I’m not the one who lied. You told me you didn’t want to marry him.”

  “I don’t want to. I told him—”

  “You asked him to reconsider the marriage,” he spat. “After you begged me to leave, you went to him and asked him if he’d still marry you.”

  She froze. “How did you…?”

  “Your PR rep told me, right before she offered me money to keep my fucking mouth shut.” He laughed again, his eyes focused somewhere above her head. “Enough money to pay off my house, I might add. I’ll be living very comfortably, thanks to Prince George. Hell, we both will.”

  Her heart shattered. The man she’d wanted to trust with her heart had been paid off, and he’d accepted it. “Y-You took the bribe?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, his voice hard. “We had fun. It’s over. I got money out of the situation. We all win, Princess. So go back to your pretty little life with your pretty little prince, and live in your pretty little castle.”

  She shook her head, backing up. Princesses don’t cry. Princesses don’t cry. Princesses don’t— “Why are you doing this? Why are you being so…so…?”

  “Me?”

  “No, mean.”

  He shrugged but didn’t meet her eyes. “It’s how I’ve always been. I was being nice to get you in bed, so I could maybe score some cash, but that’s over now. I got what I wanted out of you.”

  She slapped him. Actually slapped him in front of the royal guard. Backing away from him, she stopped trying to hold the tears back. Stopped trying to act strong. Just…stopped. He’d used her. Betrayed her. Hurt her.

  And he didn’t even care.

  “You’re not who I thought you were,” she sa
id.

  He cupped his cheek, his dark eyes flashing. “Funny. You’re exactly who I thought you were.”

  “I never want to see you again,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Enjoy your money. It was well earned.”

  He laughed, but the sound didn’t match his eyes. “Indeed, it was. Have a good life, Princess. It’s been real.”

  She turned and ran for the car, tears streaming down her cheeks. She almost made it there, but then she stiffened and turned around. He stood there, watching her with an empty look in his eyes. One that almost made her go back. Almost. “I didn’t say yes. I told him I wanted to be with you.”

  His jaw flexed. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I know.” She inclined her head, swiping her hands across her wet cheeks. “Silly me. I thought you actually cared, and I cared, too.”

  “Belle…”

  He took a step toward her but stopped.

  Shaking his head, he let out a long breath. He didn’t say anything else. Instead, he walked away from her, for the third time that night. This time…

  She let him.

  When she got back to her room, Mary was waiting for her. She had the cursed laptop on her knees, and she looked as if she’d been waiting for her for way too long. She smiled when the door opened, her gaze going behind her. “Here she is now. I’m sure she has Prince George…” She faded off. “Where’s Prince George? He went to get you.”

  She closed the door behind her, collapsed against it, and rubbed her forehead. “I have no idea. I left him at the theatre hours ago.”

  “Why do you look so sad?” her father asked, his tone confused. “You did it. He still wants to marry you. Whatever you said to him yesterday worked.”

  “Yay,” she said. “May I go to bed now?”

  “Why isn’t Prince George with you?” her mom asked.

  “I told him I didn’t want to marry him, and then I left.” She closed her eyes. “I wanted to marry Gordon.”

  “Did you go to see him?” Mary asked, her voice a little panicked. “What did he say?”

  “Yes. He told me about your little arrangement. Don’t worry, he’ll stay quiet.” She glared at the computer. “You guys offered him enough money to make certain he did. I’m not surprised he accepted it.”