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‘They just have more lists than you.’ He gazed down at his list. ‘You’ll need a wedding dress. It would be diplomatic if you choose a Triscarian designer. Would that be tolerable?’

‘Of course,’ she mumbled, but a qualm of panic struck. What had she been thinking? How could she pull off a live-streamed wedding with millions of people watching? Every last one would pick apart, not just her outfit, but every aspect of her appearance. She wasn’t a leggy beautiful brunette like Princess Fiorella. She was on the shorter, wider sides of average—as her aunt had so often commented when comparing her to her gazelle-like, mean cousins.

She took a breath and squared her shoulders. She didn’t care. She’d resolved long ago never to care again. Because the simple fact was she could never live up to the expectation or never please all of them, so why worry about any?

‘My assistant will arrange for some samples to be brought to the palace.’ He wrote yet another item in his harsh scrawl.

‘There’s not much time to make a dress or adjustments in ten days.’ There wasn’t much time to get her head around anything, let alone everything.

‘They’ll have a team. We’ll do some preparation as well, how to pose for photos and the like.’

How to what? ‘You mean you’re going to put me through some kind of princess school?’

‘Yes.’ He met her appalled gaze with laughter. ‘There’ll be lots of cameras. It can be blinding at first.’

‘Perhaps Princess Fiorella can guide me,’ she suggested hopefully.

‘I will,’ he replied firmly. ‘Fi needs to meet her obligations here. She’ll join us only for the ceremony.’

‘But it’s okay for me to walk out on her right away?’

‘Your obligations to me and to Triscari now take precedence.’ He added something else to his endless list.

Hester glanced about the room, suddenly thinking about all the things she was going to need to achieve. ‘I’ll have to—’

‘Find someone to feed the cat.’ He nodded and wrote that down too.

‘Yes,’ she muttered, internally touched that he’d remembered.

‘At my expense, of course,’ he added. ‘Do you have other work obligations we need to address?’

‘I can sort it.’ She didn’t flatter herself that she was indispensable. No one was. She could disappear from the college and very few people would notice. She’d disappeared before no trouble at all. But she was going to need to sort out Lucia. ‘Um...’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m going to need...’

‘The money?’ He lifted his head to scrutinise her and waggled his pen between forefinger and thumb. ‘You want your first bathtub full of dollar bills?’

The intensity in his eyes made it hard to keep her equilibrium.

‘A few bundles would be good,’ she mumbled.

He tore another piece of paper from the pad and put it on the opposite side of the desk in front of her. ‘Write down the details and I’ll have it done.’

He didn’t ask more about why she wanted it. She half hoped he understood it wasn’t for her.

‘What family would you like to invite?’ he asked. ‘You can have as many as you like. Write the list and I’ll have them arrange invitations, transport and accommodation.’

She froze, her pen hovering just above the paper. Family?

She eventually glanced at him. He’d stopped writing and was watching her as he waited for her reply with apparently infinite patience. She wanted to look away from his eyes, but couldn’t. And she’d said this so many times before, this shouldn’t be different. But it was. Her breathing quickened. She just needed to say it. Rip the plaster off. That way was best. ‘My parents died when I was a child.’

He didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Foster parents, then? Adoptive? Extended family?’

She swallowed to push back the rising anxiety. ‘Do I have to invite them?’

His gaze remained direct and calm. ‘If you don’t invite anyone, there will be comment. I’m used to comment, so that doesn’t bother me. But if it will bother you, then I’d suggest inviting but then keeping them at a distance. That would be the diplomatic route that the courtiers will prefer.’

‘What would you prefer?’ Her heart banged against her ribcage.

‘I want you to do whatever will help you get through the day.’

That understated compassion shook her serenity and almost tempted her to confide in him. But she barely thought about her ‘family’. She couldn’t bear to. And she hadn’t seen them in years. ‘If they do come, will I have to spend time much with them...?’

He looked thoughtful and then the corners of his eyes crinkled. ‘I can be very possessive and dictatorial.’

‘You mean you’ll abuse your power?’ She couldn’t supress another giggle.

‘Absolutely.’ His answering grin was shameless and charming and pleased. ‘That’s what you’d expect from me, right?’

Her heart skipped. ‘The perks of being a prince...’

But her own smile faded as she considered the ramifications. She’d never wanted to see those people again, but this was an extremely public wedding. If she didn’t invite them there’d be more than mere speculation: journalists would sniff about for stories. If they dug deep old wounds might be opened, causing more drama. Anyway, her extended family liked nothing more than status, so if she invited them to the royal wedding of the decade, they’d be less likely to say anything. They’d never admit they’d disowned her father, spurned her pregnant mother, and caused her teenage parents to run away like some modern-day Romeo and Juliet. They’d never admit that they’d only taken her in after the accident for ‘the look of it’. Or that they’d never let her forget how she was the unplanned and unwanted ‘trash’ who’d ruined the perfect plan they’d had for her father’s life.

‘Do you have someone you’d like to escort you down the aisle?’ he asked.

She noted with a wry smile that he didn’t suggest she be given away. ‘It’s fine, I’ll do that alone.’ She looked at the paper in front of her. ‘But perhaps Princess Fiorella might act as bridesmaid?’ She wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, but there really wasn’t anyone else she could think of.

‘That would work very well.’

‘Perfect for your pining heart narrative,’ she joked to cover the intensity of the discussion.

‘The media will seize on this as soon as they hear anything,’ Alek said solemnly. ‘They will pry into your private life, Hester. Are you prepared for that?’

‘It’s fine.’ She went back to writing her own list to avoid looking at him. ‘They can say what they like, print what they like.’

‘No skeletons in the closet?’ he queried gently. ‘It wouldn’t bother me if there were. Heaven knows I have them.’ She heard his smile in his voice before it dropped lower. ‘But I wouldn’t want you to suffer.’

She shook her head and refused to look up at him again. ‘It’s fine.’

‘There are no ex-boyfriends who are going to sell their stories abo

ut you to the press?’

Her blush built but she doggedly kept looking down. Why did he have to press this? He didn’t need to know.

‘They’re harder on women,’ he said huskily. ‘Wrong as that is.’

‘There are no skeletons. I was lonely as a teenager. I wasn’t really close to anyone.’ Uncomfortable, she glanced up to assure him and instantly regretted it because she was caught in the coal-black depths of his eyes. ‘My life to date has been very boring,’ she said flatly. ‘There’s literally nothing to write about.’

Nothing in her love life anyway. She couldn’t break free of his unwavering gaze and slowly that heat curled within her—embarrassment, right? But she also felt an alarming temptation to lean closer to him. Instead she froze. ‘Is it a problem?’

‘Not at all.’

She forced herself to focus on listing the details he’d asked for, rather than the strange sensations burgeoning within her.

This marriage was a few months of adventure. She had to treat it like that. If she’d been crazy enough to say yes to such an outlandish, impulsive proposal, she might as well go all the way with it. ‘Will your assistant be able to find me a hairdresser?’ She pushed past her customary independence and made herself ask for the help she needed. ‘And maybe some other clothes...’

‘You’d like that?’

She glanced up again and saw he was still studying her intently.

‘All the smoke and mirrors?’ she joked lamely again. ‘I’d like all the help I can get to pull this off.’

‘Then I’ll have it arranged. Write down your size and I’ll have some things brought to the plane.’

Heat suffused her skin again but she added it to her list before pushing the paper towards him. ‘I think that’s everything.’


Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance