Falling For His Convenient Queen. Therese Beharrie

The events we’ve seen each other at...’ Her voice faded and he quickly figured out why.

      He’d kept himself apart from the Mattanian and Aidaraen royal families at those events. Oh, he’d greeted, had done his duty, but the ease that had always been between the two families hadn’t included him. Of his own accord, he knew, and realised that Nalini was referring to that one-sidedness he’d embraced. But he’d known what was at risk if he’d become one of them. His family’s most well-kept secret.

      His mother’s affair.

      ‘Or it could just be because you’re a little scary, King Zacchaeus.’

      Despite what he’d been thinking of, that drew a smile from him. ‘You’re not the first person to say that.’

      ‘No, I don’t imagine I am,’ she replied softly, and her mouth curved up in the smallest of smiles.

      For the first time, Zacchaeus realised he was in trouble. No, he corrected, taking in what that smile did to the already lovely features of her face—and what it did to his heart rate. He’d known he was in trouble the moment he’d come up with the hare-brained plan to marry Nalini.

      He’d convinced himself, just as he had Xavier, Leyna and Nalini, that it had been for the sake of the alliance. And, up until that moment, he’d believed that that was the only reason. Except now he remembered how often his eyes had strayed to Nalini at every event. How her smile, polite as it had been, had made it the tiniest bit harder to breathe.

      He thought about how he’d felt after he’d left the discussion with Leyna and Xavier the day he’d told them of his plan—the anger at their responses, the fear that it would put Kirtida at risk—and how it had changed when he’d seen Nalini in the castle passage. He’d felt longing. Hope.

      And he’d wished with all his might that his hare-brained plan would work just so that he could have that feeling for the rest of his life.

      ‘Does it bother you?’ she asked, studying him. For one irrational moment he thought she was asking about his feelings for her. ‘That people think you’re scary, I mean,’ she clarified, and he told himself to get a grip.

      ‘I don’t care what people think of me,’ he said in a cool tone, hoping it would have the same effect on his emotions. ‘What I care about is that they do what they’re supposed to do. What I ask them to.’

      ‘I’m afraid you might not entirely succeed in that with me.’

      ‘Yes,’ he answered wryly. ‘I didn’t think I would.’

      ‘Now you’re not the first person to say that about me.’

      He rested his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward. ‘Do you mean Princess Nalini of Mattan was a problem child?’

      ‘Depends on who you ask,’ she said lightly, but all trace of humour disappeared from her face. ‘What should I wear for the shoot?’

      The change in subject happened so quickly, so smoothly, that he had to take a moment to adjust. And, though he didn’t press, it intrigued him.

      ‘I’ve arranged for a few dresses to be sent to your room. You can choose whichever one you’d feel most comfortable in.’

      She nodded. ‘Are we done?’

      ‘For now.’

      ‘Then I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She stood and smoothed the fabric of her trousers.

      ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he repeated and got up with her. They stood like that as the seconds passed and then she finally walked to the door, but turned back before going through it.

      ‘One meal.’ When he lifted his eyebrows, she continued. ‘We’ll share one meal a day. You can choose whichever one you’d like.’

      He wanted to smile at the brazen request—at the nerve—but all he gave her was a grudging, ‘Fine.’ She walked out then, and Zacchaeus’s eyes stayed on the door until he realised he had no reason to keep staring at it.

      He walked to his desk and, leaning back in his chair, took in the view through the glass doors leading to his balcony. The night was clear, seemingly unaffected by the misery of the afternoon. And, as he had so many times before, he silently thanked the designer who’d made sure the furniture arrangement would give him an unobstructed view of the sea.

      The stretch of water always gave him a sense of purpose and, right now, he had to accept that that purpose was to protect his kingdom. And protecting his kingdom meant focusing on the negotiations he was having with Leyna and Xavier and getting to his wedding day so that he would finally be able to sign the papers that would ensure it.

      He couldn’t afford to be enthralled by his fiancée. He couldn’t even afford to like her—if he listened to his father. Jaydon had warned him against trusting Nalini, though Zacchaeus knew Jaydon’s warning had come from his own experience with Zacchaeus’s mother.

      The woman who’d caused the drama he was currently dealing with.

      Zacchaeus couldn’t even be glad that she wasn’t in Kirtida any more. Not when her departure had made his father’s already weak heart worsen. Not when her leaving was the reason that Zacchaeus had been forced into being King before he’d been ready. Not when she was the reason his kingdom was being threatened by sanctions—perhaps even by war—because Kirtida couldn’t give in to Macoa’s demands.

      Not if Zacchaeus wanted to keep his father alive.

      Perhaps not liking Nalini was the best route to go. If only he could figure out how...

       CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘THIS IS ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS,’ Zacchaeus grumbled under his breath, and Nalini grinned. It was impossible not to smile at his grumpiness, especially when she was quite enjoying herself.

      ‘Oh, stop frowning,’ she said. ‘Or people will think that you don’t really want to marry me.’

      ‘Or they’ll think I really hate pictures. Especially fluffy ones.’

      ‘Fluffy pictures?’ she repeated. ‘Are there cute, fluffy animals around that I haven’t seen yet?’

      ‘You know what I mean.’

      ‘Zacchaeus,’ she said, and took his hand as they walked down to the castle’s gardens where they would be taking the so-called fluffy pictures.

      As soon as she realised what she’d done, she snatched her hand back—how had that felt so natural?—and gestured for the photographer to continue. She waited until the two of them were alone. ‘I know you don’t like this, but we have to make it believable.’

      ‘I thought I was doing a pretty good job.’

      ‘You were. But the pictures we just took were official ones, in the confines of the castle. Now we’re out here—’ she lifted her arms ‘—in the gorgeous garden of the castle, with the gorgeous trees and colours around us. You have to make more of an effort.’

      He narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you always this...optimistic?’

      Her lips twitched at the disgust in his tone. ‘The quickest answer to that is yes.’

      ‘Even though they’re taking fake photographs to celebrate our fake engagement?’

      ‘It may not be the traditional way people choose to marry, but it isn’t fake.’ Nalini fought to keep her voice light, though he was dampening her enjoyment. ‘In fact, this is probably as real as it’s ever going to be for us.’

      ‘That doesn’t sound optimistic.’

      ‘Sometimes realism slips in before I get to shine it with positivity.’ But she sighed, and felt her mood turn to match his. ‘Look, the simplest way for us to get through this is to make