Their Royal Wedding Bargain. Michelle Conder

display of defiance. ‘If the shoe fits.’

      ‘The shoe does not fit,’ she said a little too vehemently. ‘The fact is my father has been through a lot in recent years and I’m not going to add to his problems. And this is partly your brother’s fault. If he had gone ahead with our marriage as he had agreed to do then none of this would be an issue right now.’

      ‘But nor would you have got to kiss me quite so passionately, so there is that.’

      Her feathers well and truly ruffled, the Princess pushed to her feet. ‘You either have a colossal ego or you’re making fun of me.’

      ‘Let’s go with the ego theory. A lot less volatile.’ Rafe crossed to the booze cabinet between two arched bookcases and poured himself a whisky. ‘Drink?’ he asked, holding the crystal decanter up for her to see.

      She set her top teeth into her plush bottom lip, reminding him of how exquisite her mouth had felt under his, and surprised him with a terse nod.

      ‘Dutiful does not equal doormat, you know.’ She moved towards him, careful not to touch his fingers as she took the glass. He gave her a small smile that said he knew exactly how nervous he made her and watched her chin come up in response. ‘Not that I expect you to understand that.’

      ‘I understand it,’ he said curtly. ‘I just don’t adhere to it.’

      ‘Well, you’re lucky. I don’t have that choice.’

      Rafe clinked the ice in his glass, wondering what it was about her he found so enthralling. Because he did find her enthralling—from the way she moved to the feminine lilt in her voice, and definitely in the sexy lines of her body. He suspected that she took life far too seriously, and for some reason he wanted to change that.

      ‘You’re an intelligent, beautiful woman,’ he began, watching her closely. ‘And a future queen. How hard can it be to find a husband?’

      ‘It’s not hard at all.’ She sighed. ‘But finding the right husband is.’

      ‘Do I even want to know what the right husband looks like?’

      ‘Someone kind, compassionate, caring.’ She took a delicate sip of his brother’s hundred-year-old Scotch, shuddering delicately as it hit the back of her throat. ‘Someone I can respect and who will put Berenia first. Someone who has a similar outlook to me.’

      ‘Not looking for someone with a sense of humour?’ he enquired lightly.

      Alexa frowned. ‘That would go under “similar outlook to me”.’

      ‘So none then.’ He grinned as her eyes widened. ‘What about love?’

      ‘I have a sense of humour, thank you very much,’ she defended hotly. ‘And love is not essential.’

      Rafe’s eyes widened at that. ‘I think you’re the first woman I’ve ever heard admit that.’

      ‘Love complicates things and who even knows if it exists? I think it’s made up by Hollywood executives and songwriters trying to make money.’

      ‘And I thought I was cynical.’ Her brow furrowed and his grin widened. ‘That was a compliment, by the way. But what about passion? Surely that’s on your list.’

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not essential either. I’m not the most passionate person on the planet, and respect far outweighs passion.’

      Contemplating what had put her off passion when his body still throbbed at the memory of her mouth opening under his, Rafe gave her a smile that was pure sex. ‘You felt pretty passionate to me before.’

      She moved to sit again on the sofa, unable to meet his gaze. ‘That wasn’t me. I don’t know who that person was.’

      ‘Whoever she was, she was intoxicating.’

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘So will you consider it? I’m not sure how long I have before my father takes the decision completely out of my hands. And, frankly, I’m desperate.’

      ‘I can see that.’ He was actually sorry he had to turn her offer down. If life hadn’t taught him that he needed to steer clear of matrimonial entanglements at all costs he might even have considered it. But marriage had the potential to inflict pain on the unwary and the innocent. Why would any man deliberately buy into that? Temporary or not. ‘Sorry, Princess, but I’m not that desperate.’

      ‘You won’t even consider it to help improve relations between our nations?’

      Rafe blinked away the dark memories of his past and found himself pinned by a pair of gorgeous green eyes that, if he wasn’t careful, had the potential to suck him in deep and never let him go. ‘See, the problem with that part of your argument is that I don’t care about the issues between Santara and Berenia.’

      She blinked as if he’d just said Down with world peace. ‘But how can you not?’

      ‘I live in London and have done for a decade. I have as little to do with Santara as I can.’

      ‘Then what about to improve your reputation? Being engaged to me would stop some of the gossip. For a while at least.’

      Princess Alexa, he realised, was a real fighter. He liked that. Not enough to agree with her hare-brained scheme, but enough to find that he was enjoying her company. A lot.

      ‘Who said I wanted the gossip to stop?’

      ‘But surely some of the things written about you must bother you.’

      ‘Not particularly.’

      ‘Why is that?’ Her brow pleated as if his attitude was something she couldn’t contemplate. ‘Because it’s all true?’

      Rafe wondered which particular piece of gossip had widened her eyes to the size of dinner plates. Hardly any of it was true but denying the many claims made about him would only give them energy so he rarely bothered. Still, he knew that Alexa didn’t think much of his supposedly ‘hedonistic’ lifestyle and he couldn’t help teasing her a little. ‘Only the really bad ones.’

      Watching the wings of colour heat her cheeks almost made him want to rescind his words so that she’d think better of him. Then he wondered why he cared and remained silent. He didn’t like that he’d already delayed this conversation for the pure pleasure of listening to her speak. Adding to his uncharacteristic behaviour would only make things worse.

      ‘So your answer is no?’

      ‘My answer is no.’

      She blew out a breath and set her glass on the table abutting the sofa. ‘Then there’s nothing more to say.’

      There was plenty more to say, starting with enquiring which room she had been allocated so they could revisit that kiss, the sensations of which were still echoing inside his veins. But instead he said, ‘What are you going to do now?’

      She raised her chin and gave him a look he imagined she gave international dignitaries she had no further use for. ‘Find someone else, of course.’

      Find someone else? Rafe scowled at his fogged-up reflection as he stepped from the shower the following morning. Just how many men did she plan to approach with her absurd proposal? And, more importantly, had she found someone who had taken her up on her offer last night?

      He didn’t want that question running through his head but he was unable to banish it. After she had walked away from him he’d spent another hour at the party looking for her, to no avail. Presumably she’d gone to bed, so he had done the same, thinking about her all night as he’d known he would.

      Even though he had no intention of countenancing her proposal himself, he knew that someone would eventually agree to it. What sane man wouldn’t? With that face and body…

      Rafe