by Dani Collins
‘I can’t see you confidently calling out things in front of everyone.’
‘No, not that one either.’
‘Tantrums?’ He lifted an eyebrow and sent her a sideways smile. ‘No? But what else is there?’
In the safety of the car, riding on the success of her morning and the fact the worst of today was now over, she was relaxed enough actually to answer. ‘I was the kid who ran away.’
He watched her. ‘You really mean it.’
‘I really do.’ She drew in a slightly jagged breath, regretting the confession.
‘Did they find you and bring you home again?’
‘They had to,’ she replied lowly. ‘I was young and they had an image to maintain. But that didn’t stop me trying again.’
‘Did you ever succeed in running away for good?’
‘Eventually, yes.’
She wanted to gaze out of the window. She wanted to end this conversation. But his coal-black eyes were so full of questions that she couldn’t answer and so full of compassion that she didn’t have the strength to pull back from him either.
‘Will you run away if you don’t like it here?’ he asked.
‘No. I’m grown up now and I’ll see this through.’ She made herself smile and clear the intensity. ‘I think it’s more likely that you’ll banish me like your ancestor did his rebel Queen.’
To her relief, he followed her lead and laughed. ‘I have to banish you to her castle. I’ll take you after dinner. It’ll be a dark-windowed car tonight. Tomorrow is the glass carriage.’
‘The fairy-tale element?’
‘Absolutely.’
* * *
After another dinner devoted to preparation and planning, this time with several advisors attending and in which Alek refused to release her hand, they were driven to the castle on the edge of the city for Hester’s final night as a single woman.
‘Welcome to Queen Aleksandrina’s home.’ Alek spread his arms wide as the enormous wooden doors were closed behind them.
Hester knew the story of Aleksandrina well. Her marriage had taken place after the King’s coronation and was such an unmitigated disaster that a law had been passed stipulating that any future prince could not claim the King’s throne before being married. Furthermore, at the King’s coronation, his bride must bow before him—before all his other subjects did; she was to be prime symbol of deference to his rule. It was appalling, but ‘tradition’.
‘The rebel Queen who defied her husband and decided to build her own castle at the other end of town?’ Hester nodded in approval. ‘She sounds amazing.’
Alek grinned. ‘You know I’m named after her?’
‘Really?’ That surprised her. She’d thought the rebel Queen was frowned upon. ‘And you don’t want to live here?’
She hoisted her little backpack on her shoulder and gazed up in awe at the carved constellations in the vaulted ceiling of the castle’s great room. Where the palace was gilded and gleaming, the castle was hand-carved curves and lush plantings. It was softer somehow and very feminine. Carved into the coastline, it had a wild element to it; part of it actually overhung a cliff.
‘There’s a tunnel to the beach below. I’ll show you.’ He grinned at her. ‘The rumour was it was how the Queen smuggled her lovers in without the King knowing.’
‘Lovers—plural?’
‘Apparently she was insatiable.’
‘And did you say you’re named after her?’ Hester clarified a little too meekly.
He chuckled. ‘My mother always said those rumours were just slut-shaming to steal her powerful legacy from her. The fact was she was a better queen than he was a king and he couldn’t handle it.’
Hester stilled at the mention of his mother. She sensed she was an off-limits subject and Hester of all people understood the desire to protect those precious memories. ‘It sounds like your mother was quite a woman too,’ she said lightly.
‘She was.’ He turned and headed towards a doorway. ‘Come to the ballroom.’
Yes, he wasn’t about to elaborate and Hester didn’t blame him. ‘This isn’t the ballroom?’
Two minutes later Hester gazed around the vast, ornate room, uttered moved by gorgeous wooden carvings and low-hanging candelabra. ‘I…wow… I just…’ She trailed off; her throat was too tight. It was so incredible.
Alek stepped in front of her and brushed her cheek with his hand as he gazed into her eyes. ‘You really do struggle to express yourself sometimes, don’t you?’
Of course, he saw that. Somehow he was right there, too close. Making her want…too much. Everything she felt around him was too strong and so easily he weakened the bonds with which she held herself together.
His hand on her waist was so light, so gentle, she couldn’t quite be sure it was even there. But the electricity racing along her veins confirmed it. ‘What are—?’
‘Practising for our first dance,’ he answered before she’d even finished asking.
‘You’re kidding—we have to dance?’ She groaned. ‘I can’t dance, Alek. I don’t know how to.’
‘Just relax and follow my lead.’ His dimples appeared. ‘It’ll be fine.’
She put her hand on his chest, keeping him at that distance as he stepped fractionally closer. But the tips of her fingers burned with the temptation to spread, to stroke. And they weren’t dancing at all, they were standing still as still, close but not breathing, not blinking either. Somehow time evaporated. Somehow he was nearer still and she’d got lost in the depths of his dark eyes and the current of his energy coiling around her.
‘Why try to fight it?’ he whispered.
Of course he knew, of course he saw the terrible yearning within her. But self-preservation made her deny it. ‘Fight what?’
‘The inevitable.’
‘I refuse to be inevitable,’ she muttered hoarsely, her instinctive self-preservation instincts kicking in.
‘There’s a saying for that,’ he countered with a smile. ‘Cutting off your nose to spite your face.’
‘You think I’m missing out on something amazing just because I won’t fall for your flirting?’
‘I think it’s interesting that you’re making it such a big deal.’
‘Maybe I want something meaningful.’
‘You think I don’t mean it?’ A frown entered his eyes. ‘Because I do. There’s something about you…you’re growing on me, Hester.’
‘Like a kind of bacteria? Fungus?’
‘Not fungus.’ Beneath her fingertips she felt the laughter rumble in his broad chest. ‘Are you trying to put me off?’
‘You know I am.’
‘I do.’ He shot her a look. ‘And I love that you feel the need to try so hard. It makes me think I’m getting beneath that prickly shell of yours.’
‘So now I’m a porcupine? And here I was thinking you were supposed to be impossibly charming and irresistible.’
‘You know what I think? I think you’ve decided I’m some big, bad philanderer. And that makes me terrible, for some reason. Sorry for liking sex, sweetheart. Maybe if you tried it, you’d discover it’s not so awful. But instead you feel you have to keep me at a distance and not explore the fact that we have quite spectacular chemistry.’ He leaned closer. ‘Sparks, Hester. Every time we touch. Every time we even see each other.’
She ducked her gaze. ‘I just don’t think it’s wise for us to blur the boundaries. We have a contract. That’s all.’
‘A contract that contains two kisses.’ He smiled happily.
Something swooped low in her belly. ‘Only two.’ And they were both going to be in public so it wasn’t as if they were going to develop into anything out of control.
‘But you’re a lot more fun to be around than I imagined you’d be, Hester.’
‘I’m so glad, given I live to
please you, my lord.’
He laughed and lightly tapped her on the nose. ‘Call me Alek.’ He leaned closer and breathed, ‘Always.’
Her smile faded. She wished he wouldn’t get like this—the combination of playful and serious that was so seductive it shut down her brain and made those dormant secret parts of her roar to life.
‘I…don’t—’ She broke off as a shiver ran down her spine. She stepped back, seeking distance from his intensity.
He stayed where he was, studying her intently. ‘Are you afraid of me?’
‘Surprisingly, no.’ She was too shaken to lie. She didn’t fear him so much as how she felt when he was near.
‘So you’re worried about…?’ A frown knitted his brows.
It was easier to talk about everything else other than the riot of emotion he invoked within her. ‘The press, the Internet trolls.’
‘You’re such a liar, Hester. No, you’re not. You never would have put yourself in their firing line if you really were. Tell me the real reason.’
‘Words can hurt,’ she argued.
‘Maybe. Sometimes.’ He nodded. ‘Depending on who’s doing the talking, right?’
He was very right. And now her voice was stolen by memories she had no wish to recall.
The teasing light in his eyes dimmed and he stepped closer. ‘You can tell me,’ he assured her quietly. ‘I know you’re prickly, you won’t believe even the littlest of honest compliments. I know you don’t let many people into your life.’ He paused. ‘I know this is an arrangement. I know I’m effectively paying for your company. And I know I tease you…but you can trust me. I hope that you might be able to trust me enough to be able to tell me why you’ve built such high barriers.’
She knew she shouldn’t let the past constrain her future. And even though she had no real future with him, there was here and now. And she didn’t want to lie to him any more. ‘Because I’ve had my trust broken before.’
He waited, watching her. She knew she didn’t have to explain it to him if she really didn’t want to, but he was patient and quiet and somehow compelling.
‘You’re right,’ she growled. ‘I’m not really worried about the cameras or all the crowds or the online commentators. It’s my three cousins.’ She breathed out. ‘I shouldn’t have invited them.’
‘You don’t see them much?’
‘I haven’t seen them in years.’ She didn’t want to tell him how weak and vulnerable she’d been. And it wasn’t all their fault, right? She probably hadn’t made enough effort and they couldn’t understand her and it had been too easy for her to shut down.
‘I know no one is perfect, but they pretty much are.’ She glanced at him quickly, offering superficial detail. ‘And I wasn’t. I was like a troll in the elven realm. They were a party of extroverted sporting elite. I liked reading in the corner. We just couldn’t relate.’
He blinked, his expression perplexed. ‘But how did they break your trust?’
She’d forgotten she’d admitted that first. She swallowed. ‘With words.’
It wasn’t a lie—it was very true. But it wasn’t all of the truth.
‘They’ve all accepted the invitation. They’re here,’ he said after a while. ‘I’ve put them up at the hotel, rather than the palace. I’ve already issued a personal request that they don’t speak to the media but I can’t muzzle anyone completely. If they get seduced by the offer of an exclusive with a news agency—’
‘I know.’ She licked her lips nervously. ‘I know you can’t control everything.’
Of course they’d accepted the invitations. Who could turn down a flight in a private jet to attend something so high profile in the incredible country of Triscari? Even she hadn’t been able to turn down his offer.
‘I’m sorry I can’t,’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry they hurt you.’
She stiffened, holding back that yearning opening within with every step he took closer towards her. She didn’t want his sympathy. She didn’t want to think about any of that.
‘But I’m not going to do that,’ he added. ‘I’m not saying anything I don’t mean to you. When I talk about our inevitability, Hester, I’m not trying to flatter you. I’m just being honest.’
The trouble was his honesty was so naturally charming, so instinctively seductive. And while he was arrogant and confident, she didn’t think even he really realised his potency. He was used to it, wasn’t he? Flirting and having affairs. She just wasn’t. She didn’t think she could handle him.
‘There are still only two kisses in our contract,’ she breathed, clinging to that flimsy fact.
She had to keep him at that wafer-thin distance. He couldn’t change the agreement before they’d even signed the marriage certificate.
‘Trust me, I know.’ He remained close for the merest moment more. ‘And for what it’s worth, I think you’re going to slay them all tomorrow.’
Truthfully all she wanted was to slay him.
Fairy tales indeed.
CHAPTER SIX
HESTER SWAYED GENTLY as the glass carriage carried her along the castle route with its cobblestones and beautiful flower-strewn path to her waiting prince. The fine lace veil covering her face softened her focus so the vast crowds waving and watching blurred, but they were all there hoping to catch a glimpse of her—Prince Alek’s mysterious bride.
She’d slept surprisingly well in the large wooden castle. Fiorella had arrived there too late in the evening for them to catch up and then Billie and her team had arrived first thing, along with an army of dressmakers. So she’d had no chance to talk to Fiorella—they were both too busy being beautified for the wedding. This was good because when she’d first spotted her soon-to-be sister-in-law, she’d veered dangerously close to hugging her. And Hester didn’t hug anyone.
Before getting ready this morning she’d read only a few of the news stories about her that had been printed over the last few days. They’d not had that much time to dig up too much drama, but there was enough to make her shiver. But, worse, the real truth was there—some whispered of Alek’s requirement to marry. That he’d picked someone biddable and shy and inoffensive. ‘The bland bride’, some bitchy bloggers had labelled her.
The romantics on the other side, however, wanted to believe the fairy tale and drowned out that truth with the fantasy. Their outing to the hospital had silenced many doubters and the body-language experts had had a field day. Apparently their light touch and laughing smiles showed ‘intimacy and genuine love’ between them.
And her moment with that distressed boy had somehow been leaked—still images taken by a long-range lens through a window while one of the teachers had spoken on condition of anonymity and talked of her natural affinity with the children…while Alek was apparently smitten and protective. Hester had put the tablet down, unwilling to read any more.
‘We’re almost there. Deep breath, Hester.’ Fiorella smiled. ‘This is going to be amazing.’
Contrarily Fiorella’s soft reassurance sharpened Hester’s nerves. Too late she realised the princess had been abnormally quiet all morning. Was she worried—or pre-occupied? ‘Are you okay Fiorella?’
‘Okay?’ The princess’s deep brown eyes widened and curiously a rush of colour swept into her cheeks. ‘You mean about the wedding?’
What else would she have meant? Fiorella’s gaze dipped but before Hester could ask more, the carriage slowed and then stopped.
‘You’re the best person in the world for Alek,’ Fiorella whispered quickly before a footman appeared at the door.
Hester was glad of the veil—it gave her soft focus too. She could literally hide behind it.
She climbed the stone steps slowly as instructed, though mainly it was because the silk train of her dress was heavy. Then she saw Alek waiting at the end of the long aisle and was unable to tear her gaze from him. Every step drew her cl
oser to him and revealed more detail of his appearance. He wore full royal regalia—gleaming gold trim, military medals and that scarlet sash of power across his chest and, yes, even one feather. He stood straight and strong and so serious, but as she finally drew alongside him she saw the smile in his eyes and a teasing twitch of his lips.
The ceremony was full of pomp just as he’d promised. There were trumpets, choirs, a cellist…but she barely noticed them. Nor did she really see the beautiful floral arrangements and the stunningly attired guests. He sucked all her attention.
It seemed to take for ever, yet passed in a flash. She was vitally aware of him breathing beside her, so close yet distant, and every moment watched by millions. She grew stupidly nervous after reciting her vows. Her mouth dried and she swallowed back her anxiety. Why had she shot down the idea of a practice kiss? They’d probably bump noses, or clash teeth or something even more awkward in front of the world. It was mortifying. And it would be replayed over and over, immortalised in memes on the Internet for ever. The ‘world’s worst kiss’.
Terrified, she looked at Alek. That knowing glint of good humour in his eyes grew and his lips curved enough to set the dimples free. She couldn’t hold back her own impish smile in response. This whole thing? It was ridiculous. And suddenly it was fun, this secret contract between them.
He bent nearer, so very slowly. Utterly still, she expected only a brief peck.
It was a gossamer brush of his lips over hers, so gentle that she wouldn’t have been sure it had happened if she hadn’t seen him. But he lingered and her eyes drifted shut as intimacy was unleashed in that lightest, purest of touches. She yearned to capture it—to stop time and bask in the warmth and connection from such slight pressure.
He pulled back and smiled again right into her eyes as she blinked and returned to the world. The roaring cheers of the crowd seeped through the stone walls and a ripple of audible pleasure ran through the guests present in the magnificent palace chapel. He drew her hand through his arm and escorted her down the long aisle. The noise of the applause boomed tenfold as the church door was opened for them to exit. They stood for a long moment on the top step, smiling at the scores and scores of people—the crowd stretched as far as she could see.