Temporarily His Princess. Оливия Гейтс

her challenge. “What if I told you I don’t care what you do with said ‘nugget’? If they did the things this file says they did, then they deserve to be locked up to pay for their crimes, and learn a lesson nothing else could teach them.”

      Elation at her defiance and disgust at the whole situation mingled in an explosive mix, almost making him lightheaded. “They may deserve it, but you still won’t let them get locked up for a day, let alone years, if you can at all help it.”

      All anger and rebellion went out of her, dejection crashing in its place. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes dimmed.

      He attempted to look unaffected by her apparent upheaval and defeat. Apparent being the operative word. In reality she must be rubbing her hands at the unexpected windfall and what she could negotiate out of it.

      He exhaled. “It’s a beneficial arrangement all around. Though your father and brother deserve to be punished, their punishment wouldn’t serve any purpose. I … will compensate those they’ve embezzled from and defrauded.” He’d nearly slipped and told her that he’d already compensated their victims, each in a way that made up for their losses, without connecting his actions to those, or to her family. “You will be spared the disgrace and heartache of having them imprisoned. My king and Castaldini will have me where they need me. And I will have the temporary image cleansing necessary for the job.”

      Her gaze froze on his face for a fraught moment until his heart started to thunder in his chest. And that was before a couple of tears arrowed down her flushed, trembling cheeks.

      She wiped them away, as if pissed off with herself for letting him witness her weakness. Her turmoil seemed so real he felt it reverberating in his bones. But it couldn’t be real. It had to be another act. But how could it be so convincing?

      He should stop wondering. As far as his senses were concerned, her every breath and word and look were genuine. So he’d better stop pitting their verdict against that of his mind before they tore him down the middle in their tug-of-war.

      She finally whispered, “How temporary is temporary?”

      He exhaled heavily. “A year.”

      Her face convulsed as if at a stab of pain.

      After swallowing with evident difficulty, she asked, “What would be the … job description?”

      So she’d moved from rejection to defiance to setting terms. And somehow, though he was holding all the cards, it felt like she was the one setting the pace of this confrontation, steering its direction. No wonder. She’d been the best negotiator he’d ever had on his team, the most ordered, effective executive. He had loved her for her mind and abilities as much as everything else. He’d respected them, believed in them. Relied on them. Her loss had damaged every pillar in his world.

      Pushing aside the bitterness that kept derailing him, he said, “I will be Castaldini’s representative to the United Nations. It’s one of the most exalted positions in the kingdom, and it is closely monitored and rated by Castaldinians before the rest of the world. My wife will need to share all of my public appearances, act as the proper consort in all the functions I attend, the gracious hostess in the ones I give, and the adoring bride in everything else.”

      Her incredulity rose with his every word. “And you think I am qualified for those roles? Why don’t you just get someone from Castaldini, a minor princess or something, who’d jump at the chance for a temporary place in the spotlight, and who’s been trained from birth in royal and diplomatic pretense? I’m sure no woman will cling or cause scandals when you want to cast her aside. You cast me aside without as much as a wrinkle in your suit.”

      No. Just a chasm in my heart. “I want no one else. And yes, you are qualified and then some. You’re an unequaled expert in all aspects of the executive life with its due process and formalities. You’re also quite the chameleon, and you blend perfectly in any situation or setting.” Her eyes widened at that, as if she’d never heard anything more ridiculous in her life. Before she could voice her derision, he went on. “The jump to court and diplomatic etiquette and ‘pretense’ should be a breeze. I will tutor you in what you’ll say and how you’ll behave with dignitaries and the press. I’ll leave the other areas of your education to Alonzo, my valet. And with your unusual beauty, and your … assets—” his gaze made an explicit sweep of said assets before returning to her once again chagrined eyes “—once Alonzo gets his hands on you, the tabloids will have nothing to talk about but your style and latest outfits. Your current occupation as a humanitarian crusader will also capture the imagination of the world, and add to my image as a clean-energy pioneer. We’ll be the perfect fairy-tale couple.”

      What he’d once thought they could be for real.

      His summation seemed to have as brutal an effect on her as it had on him. She looked as if regret that this could never be real crushed her, too.

      Suppressing the urge to put his fist through the nearest wall, he gritted out, “I am also offering a substantial financial incentive to sweeten the deal. That’s part of the offer I’ve already said you can’t refuse.”

      She kept staring at him with what looked like disappointment pulsing in the depths of her eyes. She didn’t ask how much. Still acting as if money meant nothing to her.

      “Ten million dollars,” he said, suppressing a sneer of disillusion. “Net of deductions or taxes. Two up front, the rest on completion of the contract term.”

      He bent, picked up the other dossier on the coffee table and came to stand over her where she sat limply on the couch. “That’s the prenuptial agreement you’ll sign.”

      When she didn’t take the volume, he placed it on her lap.

      “I’m giving you today to read through this. You’re free to seek legal counsel, of course, but there’s nothing in it to impact you whatsoever, if you abide by the letter of the terms. I will expect your acceptance tomorrow.”

      Without looking up from the dossier in her lap, she said, “Take it or take it, huh?”

      “That about sums it up.”

      The gaze fixed on his filled with fury, frustration and … vulnerability.

      Dio. Just a look from her and his whole being surged with need. To devour her, to possess her. To protect her.

      Seemed his weakness where she was concerned was incurable.

      And to think he’d hoped he’d realize that everything he’d felt for her was an exaggeration, that seeing her again would only make him wonder at how he’d once thought himself attracted to her. He’d hoped it would purge the memories that circulated in his system like a nondegradable mind-altering drug.

      Instead, he’d found that what he remembered of her effect on him had been diluted by time. Either that or her effect had multiplied tenfold. He’d been aroused since he’d laid eyes on her again, was now in agony.

      His only consolation was that she wanted him, too.

      Si, of this he had no doubt. Not even she could have faked her body’s responses. Their memory had controlled his fantasies all these years. Every manifestation of her desire, the scent of it, the taste of its honey on his tongue, the feel of its liquid silk on his fingers and manhood, the rush of her pleasure at the peaks that had rocked her beneath him, squeezed her around him and wrung him of explosive releases.

      What would it feel like having her again with all their baggage, maturity and changes?

      No need to wonder. For he’d made up his mind.

      He would have her again.

      Might as well make his intentions clear up front.

      He caught her arm as she heaved up. Jolts arced from every fingertip pressing into firm flesh.

      At her indignant glare, he bent and whispered in her ear, “When I take you to my bed this time, it will be far better than ever before.”

      Her