There was a throb of tension despite the light way he asked the question. He cocked his head, daring her to answer honestly. ‘You think I should sacrifice my personal life for my country?’
Actually she thought nothing of the sort but she’d backed herself into a corner by arguing with him. ‘I think there could be benefits in an arranged union.’
‘Benefits?’ His eyebrows lifted, scepticism oozing from his perfect pores. ‘What possible benefits could there be?’
Oh, he really didn’t want his continuous smorgasbord of women curtailed in any way, did he?
‘What if you have the right contract with the right bride?’ she argued emotionlessly. ‘You both know what you’re heading into. It’s a cool, logical decision for the betterment of your nation.’
‘Cool and logical?’ His eyebrows arched. ‘What are you, an android?’
Right now, she rather wished she were. It was maddening that she found him attractive—especially when she knew what a player he was. Doubtless this was how every woman who came within a hundred feet of him felt, which was exactly why he was able to play as hard and as frequently as he did. When a man was that blessed by the good-looks gods, mere mortals like her had little defence against him.
‘Perhaps when you’re King you can lobby for the change.’ She shrugged, wanting to close the conversation she never should have started.
‘Indeed. But apparently in order to become King I must marry.’
‘It’s quite the conundrum for you,’ she said lightly.
‘It has no bearing on my ability to do my job. It’s an anachronism.’
‘Then why not just make an arrangement with one of your many “friends”?’ she muttered with frustration. ‘I’m sure they’d all be willing to bear the burden of being your bride.’
He laughed and a gleam flickered in his eyes. ‘Don’t think I haven’t thought about it. Problem is they’d all take it too seriously and assume it was going to be happily ever after.’
‘Yes, I imagine that would be a problem.’ She nodded, primly sarcastic.
He straightened from the doorway and stepped closer. ‘Not for someone like you, though.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You’d understand the arrangement perfectly well and I get the impression the last thing you’d want is happily ever after with me.’
Too stunned—and somehow hurt—to stop, she answered back sharply. ‘I just don’t imagine it would be possible.’
Those eyebrows arched again. ‘With anyone or only with me?’
She suddenly remembered who it was she’d just insulted. ‘Sorry.’ She clamped her lips together.
‘Don’t be, you’re quite right,’ he said with another low laugh. ‘The difficulty I have is finding someone who understands the situation, its limitations, and who has the discretion to pull it off.’
‘Quite a tall order.’ She wished he’d leave. Or let her leave. Because somehow this was dangerous. He was dangerous.
He eyed her for another long moment before glancing to survey the neat desk she’d retreated behind. ‘You’re the epitome of discretion.’
‘Because my desk is tidy?’
‘Because you’re smart enough to understand such an arrangement.’ He lifted his chin and arrogantly speared her with his mesmerising gaze. ‘And we have no romantic history to get tangled in,’ he drawled. ‘In fact, I think you might be my perfect bride.’
There was a look on his face—a mischievous delight tempting her to smile and join the joke. But this wasn’t funny.
So she sent him a dismissive glance before turning to stare at her desk. ‘No.’
‘Why not?’ The humour dropped from his voice and left only cool calculation.
Definitely dangerous. Definitely more ruthless than his careless façade suggested.
‘You’re not serious,’ she said.
‘Actually, I rather think I am.’
‘No,’ she repeated, but her voice faded. She forced her arms across her waist to stop herself moving restlessly, to stop that insidious heat from rising, to stop temptation escaping her control.
She never felt temptation. She never felt. She’d been too busy trying to simply survive for so long...but now?
His gaze didn’t leave her face. ‘Why not take a moment to think about it?’
‘What is there to think about?’ she asked with exaggerated disbelief. ‘It’s preposterous.’
And it was. He’d walked in less than five minutes ago and was now proposing. He was certifiable.
‘I don’t think so,’ he countered calmly. ‘I think it could work very well.’
He made it seem easy, as if it were nothing.
‘You don’t think you should take this a little more seriously instead of proposing to the first woman you see today?’
‘Why shouldn’t I propose to you?’
Hester breathed slowly, struggling to slow her building anger. ‘No one would ever believe you’d want to marry me.’
‘Why?’
She mentally begged for mercy. ‘Because I’m nothing like the women you normally date.’
His gaze skidded down her in that cool and yet hot assessing way again. ‘I disagree.’
She gritted her teeth. She didn’t need him to start telling her she was attractive in a false show of charm.
‘It’s just clothes and make-up.’ He stole the wind from her sails. ‘Fancy packaging.’
‘Smoke and mirrors?’ She swallowed the bitterness that rose within her because she just knew how little the world thought of her ‘packaging’. ‘I meant I’m not from your level of society. I’m not a princess.’
‘So? These “levels” shouldn’t matter.’ He shrugged carelessly.
‘I’m not even from your country,’ she continued, ignoring his interruption. ‘It’s not what’s expected of you.’
He glanced beyond her, seeming to study some speck on the wall behind her. ‘I’ll do as they dictate, but they don’t get to dictate everything. I don’t want to marry anyone, certainly not a princess. I’ll choose who I want.’ His gaze flicked back to her, that arrogant amusement gleaming again. ‘It would be quite the fairy tale.’
‘It would be quite unbelievable,’ she countered acerbically. She couldn’t believe he was even continuing this conversation.
‘Why would it, though?’ he pondered. ‘You’ve been working for Fi for how long?’
‘Twelve months.’
‘But you knew her before that.’
‘For three months before, yes.’
Hester had been assigned as Princess Fiorella’s roommate when the Princess came to America to study. Hester was four years older and already into her graduate studies so it had been more of a study support role. It turned out that Fiorella was smart as, and hadn’t needed much tutoring, but it hadn’t been long before Hester had begun helping her with her mountains of correspondence, to the point that Fiorella had asked her to work for her on a formal basis. It had enabled Hester to reduce her other varsity tutoring, she’d finished her thesis and now focused on her voluntary work at the drop-in centre in the city.
She scheduled Fiorella’s diaries, replied to messages and emails and organised almost everything without leaving their on-campus apartment. It was perfect.
‘Then you’ve passed all our security checks and proven your ability to meet our family’s specific demands.’ Prince Alek took another step closer towards her.
Hester stared at him, unable to believe he was still going with this.
‘Furthermore it’s perfectly believable that we would know each other behind palace walls,’ he added. ‘No one knows what might have been going on within the privacy of the palace.’
‘Sorry to poke holes in your narrative, but I’ve never actually been to the palace,’ she pointed out tartly. She’d never been to Triscar
i. In fact, she’d never been out of the country at all. ‘In addition, we’ve been in the same airspace only once before.’
Prince Alek had escorted Fiorella to the university in lieu of the King all those months ago.
‘And this is the first time we’ve actually spoken,’ she finished, proving the impossibility of his proposal with a tilt of her chin.
‘I’m flattered you’ve kept count.’ His wolfish smile flashed. ‘No one else needs know that though. For all anyone else knows, the times I’ve called or visited Fi might’ve been a cover to see you.’ He nodded slowly and that thoughtful look deepened as he stepped closer still. ‘It could work very well.’
Hester’s low-burning anger lifted. How could he assume this would work so easily? Did he think she’d be instantly compliant? Or flattered even? He really was a prince—used to people bowing and scraping and catering to his every whim. Had he ever been told no? If not, his response was going to be interesting.
‘Well, thank you all the same, Your Highness.’ She cleared her throat. ‘But my answer is no. Why don’t I tell your sister you’ll be waiting for her at your usual hotel?’
She wished Princess Fiorella would hurry up and get home and take her insane brother away.