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It was too bad she would not be serving in the capacity of a real princess, however, because her little wave had been filled with enough royal condescension to make a queen proud.

“As I was saying,” he went on, nonetheless dogged by the strange sense that she had somehow outmaneuvered him, “we’ll need an entertaining and believable story to explain how an American mechanic, albeit a world-famous one, snagged the Crown Prince of Hayat.”

“That’s funny, I remember it the other way around, with the Crown Prince of Hayat snagging the American mechanic,” she said flatly.

“Regardless of how it happened, we need a unified story to tell.”

“Forgive me for suggesting that it might be best to stick as close to the truth as possible,” she said, the sarcasm in her voice slipping a notch closer to irritation.

“You think people are going to believe that?” he asked, lifting a brow as his urge to settle the matter shifted more into one to egg her on further.

His new wife had a sparky temper, as he’d seen in the garage and throughout their acquaintance, and he found he liked the jolt of touching it.

And unlike most of the people he knew, Rita never seemed reticent about sharing that part of herself with him.

It was refreshing to be in the company of someone unafraid to put him in his place the way only his friends seemed to.

Not that his new wife was his friend.

Rita was merely his business partner, which he would just have to keep on reminding himself since it was dangerously easy to forget while in conversation with her.

Wisely, she said, “I think people will believe whatever they want to believe, regardless of what the official story is.”

“So cynical, Rita,” he said, tsking at her with a disapproving shake of his head before continuing, “And now you’re confusing me. One minute you want us to tell the truth that our alliance is really just a strange political move, and the next you want us to make up a story that’s worth believing?” Though it might have been rusty, his comedic tone achieved what he had been going for, and the stiffness in her posture and expression broke with an exasperated smile.

“No, no,” she grumbled, hands up in surrender as she deflated. “The people want good tabloids, so we will give them good tabloids,” she added.

He didn’t expect the strange surge of approval that coursed through him at her words, a misplaced sense of pride rising in him to have found a woman who, like him, was willing to put the needs of the people of Hayat before her own.

That, he believed, was the single most important trait of a good ruler.

Ruling together, however, was not a part of their deal.

And keeping that in mind was already showing itself to be slightly more complicated than he had initially anticipated.

Once they landed in Hayat, he would endeavor to restrict the amount of time he spent in her presence.

It was perhaps unsurprising, but her combination of brilliant mind and royal irreverence made it far too easy to relax his guard around her. He excused his lack of foresight with the fact that it was an experience he hadn’t often had.

“So,Jag, what kind of story do you propose?” she asked, doing that thing where she made his name sound like honey on her tongue again.

Once the wave of caress-like tingling stopped coursing across his skin, Jag reflected that it had perhaps not been his brightest idea to give her his casual name.

“Like-minded tech-loving young lovers’ paths cross over one-of-kind commission and sparks fly?” he suggested flirtatiously, as if he’d momentarily lost his mind.

The deep wells of her eyes locked on his, and she licked her lips before replying, “Better, Prince falls for mysterious engineer known the world over only as NECTAR.”

A slow grin lifting the corners of his mouth in a way he knew that women loved, Jag’s eyes lit with dare. “My version is closer to the truth.”

Rita’s breath quickened. “Mine is a better story.”

“Says who?” he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

“It’s got mystery and romance, enough of both to keep people occupied filling in the details themselves.”

“And just how did you become such an expert at subterfuge, I wonder, Rita,” he murmured, eyes never leaving hers.

Rita waited a beat, swallowing and clearing her throat before replying, “Just the past six years of becoming one of the most famous conversion specialists in the world all while no one knew my name, face or gender.”


Tags: Marcella Bell Billionaire Romance