By Request Collection Part 3. Robyn Donald

as if it pained her.

      ‘What do you want?’

      She’d almost convinced him she didn’t care for wealth and glamour. Now suspicion rose. He should have known better. Hadn’t Ana taught him anything? What was her price?

      ‘I want …’ She paused and gestured abruptly with one hand. ‘I don’t want to be treated as some brainless doll. As far as possible, I want to make my own decisions. Don’t expect to dictate to me.’

      Raul took in the defiant glimmer in her eyes, the determined jut of her chin and felt the tension leach away.

      No unreasonable demands? No tantrums or tears?

      Pride stirred, and respect for this remarkable woman.

      Perhaps after all Luisa was as unique as she seemed.

      His lips curved in a smile of genuine pleasure. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’

      Raul saw Luisa led past the royal councillors, across the vast reception room. The soon-to-be-Princess of Ardissia was quietly elegant in shades of caramel and cream. Her back was straight and her chin up as if unfazed by the presence of so many august people. Yet she was pale and there was a brittle quality to her composure that made his brow knot.

      Guilt pinched. A few days ago she’d been leading a completely different life. Had he been right to move so fast to cement this arrangement?

      Raul stiffened, refusing to follow that line of thought. This was for the best. For the good of the nation. The alternative would plunge the country into chaos.

      The sooner this was done the better.

      He strode across the room, silently berating himself for getting sidetracked by urgent negotiations. He’d meant to support her as she entered the room.

      He’d nearly reached her at the ornate desk when she saw him and started. Disappointment flared. This wasn’t the first time she’d reacted as if his touch contaminated.

      It took a moment to realise that in flinging out an arm involuntarily Luisa had knocked over the baccarat crystal inkwell. Black liquid sprayed across the hand woven heirloom carpet and his suit.

      The room inhaled a collective gasp. In a moment Luisa had ripped blotting paper from the embossed blotter on the desk and dropped to her knees, soaking up the stain.

      Servants rushed to assist but she didn’t notice. ‘We need something to soak this up.’

      Raul dragged a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and hunkered beside her. ‘Will this help?’

      ‘Not much.’ Her words were crisp. ‘But it’s better than nothing.’ The snowy cloth joined the dark pulpy mass on the carpet.

      ‘Excuse me, ma’am. Ma’am?’ One of the senior staff appeared with materials to clear the worst of the mess.

      ‘Luisa.’ Raul took her elbow, gripping tight enough to make her look up. ‘The staff will deal with this.’

      She opened her mouth as if to protest, then looked over his shoulder, eyes widening. As if she’d only just remembered every member of the High Court, the royal advisors and sundry VIPs here to witness the formalities.

      Heat flooded her face and she looked away. Gently he drew her to her feet.

      She felt surprisingly fragile beneath his touch. Not like the woman who’d seduced him witless with just a kiss, or the proud woman who’d agreed to marry him.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ She watched the staff deal with a stain that was probably immovable, worrying at her lower lip.

      ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured, leading her away to the other side of the desk.

      ‘But the carpet! It’s old and valuable, surely?’ Her hands clenched tight.

      ‘No such thing. It’s amazing how well they make reproductions these days.’

      He heard his butler’s breath hiss at the blithe lie. In Raul’s father’s day, damaging an heirloom like this would have resulted in severe punishment. But, seeing Luisa’s distress, feeling her arm tremble beneath his hold, Raul didn’t give a damn about anything but allaying her guilt.

      ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Here’s a seat for you.’

      She sank into the chair and Raul swept the blotter aside, motioning for the accession document to be brought forward. Reaching in his jacket, he withdrew his own pen.

      Maritz needed to move with the times. There was absolutely no need to continue the tradition of signing and witnessing important documents with old-fashioned ink pens.

      Lukas presented the document which, when signed, would confirm Luisa as Princess of Ardissia, inheritor of her grandfather’s wealth. And Raul’s wife-to-be.

      It was spread wide on the desk and the witnesses stepped forward. Raul handed her the pen.

      And waited.

      For Luisa didn’t sign. Instead, she read the English translation, slowly and methodically. Her finger marked a difficult clause and she lifted her head, turning to Lukas who hovered helpfully on her other side.

      ‘Would you mind explaining this reference?’ she murmured softly.

      ‘Of course, ma’am.’ After a quick look at Raul, Lukas bent over the parchment, explaining the clause. Then after a few moments, another.

      The audience grew restless. Raul noticed one or two raised brows among some of the more old-fashioned advisers. He could imagine what they whispered. That the woman should gratefully accept what was offered, without question.

      Luisa was aware of the buzz of comment. Her cheeks grew brighter and he saw her neck stiffen. Yet still she read each line.

      It should have annoyed him, this delay to his plans. Even now, on the edge of achieving what was so necessary, ripples of anxiety spread through his belly. He couldn’t be completely happy till this was settled.

      Yet his impatience was tempered by admiration. Luisa was naturally cautious.

      Like him. He’d never sign anything without careful consideration either.

      Raul recalled the advice he’d recently received. That on investigation Luisa’s farming co-op was found to be surprisingly well run. That the financial difficulties were due to the economic downturn, a massive drought and a series of unfortunate health problems, including the death of her father last year.

      According to the accountants, the business was poised to become very successful, once money was freed up for new equipment. Luisa had done an excellent job.

      Once more curiosity rose. She wasn’t like other women. He’d been so intent on achieving his ends he’d initially thought of her as a convenient bride, not a real woman. Now he pondered exactly what sort of woman he would wed.

      He looked at her bent head, how she bit her lush bottom lip in concentration. Fire arced through his gut.

      She fascinated him, he admitted now. Her obstinacy, pragmatism and quiet pride. Her unassuming ways and her disquieting sensuality. How long since a woman had intrigued him so? Since a kiss had made him lose his head?

      Finally, with a swift movement, Luisa picked up his pen and signed. Only Raul, close beside her, saw the way her hand shook. It pained him to see what this cost her.

      Yet relief swamped him. It was almost done. Soon the crown would be his. His destiny was within his grasp. His country would be safe.

      He picked up the pen, still warm from her fingers, and with a flourish added his signature as first witness. ‘Thank you, Luisa,’ he murmured.

      At his words she tilted her head and their gazes meshed. Heat ricocheted through his belly and groin, the reverberations spreading even as she looked away, letting her lashes veil her eyes.

      Now she was bound to him, this intriguing woman