More like a carbon copy. Daxon and Alaric both possessed the emerald-colored eyes of the Van Ambrose royals. Once Briony was standing next to her father and brother, there would be no question about her parentage.
“You said if I accompany you tomorrow. What are you talking about?”
He eased himself down onto the bench across from her. This was a step in the right direction, but he had to tread carefully. One wrong move and he could lose his chance.
“The letter from your father asks if you will become my wife to ensure a financial alliance that will rescue Linnaea from an economic depression. If you agree, you’ll accompany me to Linnaea to meet your father and brother, as well as formally announce our engagement.”
Her laugh this time came out strangled.
“Our engagement? You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
“Right. That I’m the daughter of a king.”
The bitterness in her voice crept under her skin.
“That’s part of it,” he said honestly. “But as I said, this would be a mutually beneficial arrangement, and not just for Linnaea. I have paperwork ready to establish trust funds for both of your stepsisters that would ensure their financial security and a private counselor who would be available to them as long as they need to process their grief over your mother’s death. Your medical and credit card debts would be wiped away. I also have a reservation on standby for Trey at an exclusive rehabilitation clinic in Kansas City with an extraordinary success rate.”
She leaned forward, her hair falling in a red curtain over her face.
“You told me yesterday when I overheard your conversation that you just wanted them to get better. This is your chance to make that happen.”
He knew the reminders of her home situation were calculated and heartless. But she needed to be reminded of her situation and of what he had the power to do.
“And in return I marry a stranger.”
He reached out and grabbed her hand. Her head snapped up as tension crackled in the air between them. She stared down at his fingers threaded through hers, then slowly looked up at him.
He was a heartless bastard. But God help him, he couldn’t stop.
“In return, I can offer you several things. Meeting the remaining family you have. A life of luxury and ease. Children. A chance to have your own family. I won’t pretend that I’m capable of offering love, but I can offer a pleasant relationship between two people who are obviously attracted to each other, which bodes well for certain aspects of the marriage.”
Her cheeks turned pink.
“We don’t know each other well.” He was treading on dangerous ground. But, he argued with himself, he was making his case, not indulging in his own attraction. “But I already know much about you.”
“From your research,” she whispered. He smiled. She was trying to keep him at bay. But he had started this battle, and he intended to finish it.
“Yes. Research that also showed me that you’re loyal to your family, although by all accounts you have every right to walk out and leave them to their own misery.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do that. They’re grieving.”
“You’re compassionate.”
He meant that. It was a quality he’d normally eschewed as weak. Yet on Briony it didn’t seem like weakness. No, on her it came across as strength.
“And,” he added with a smile, “you handle drunks with the grace of a queen.”
She laughed. Desire urged him to lean forward and claim her mouth, give her a demonstration of just how compatible they could truly be.
But not yet. Patience. It had taken more than he had expected to convince her that he was in fact a prince, that her father was a king and that she was a princess. If he frightened her off now, he might lose his chance.
And, he reminded himself as he released her hand and straightened, he’d lusted after women before. As enjoyable as those encounters had been, the actual event often paled in comparison to the anticipation that preceded it. Sex had become more of a routine, the occasional sojourn into physical pleasure a way to take the edge off after a long day of running his business enterprise or supporting Aunt Alecine or his father in their political endeavors.
Bedding Briony, while pleasurable, would most likely follow the same pattern. If he could hold on to that thought, his attraction would dim, and he could once again focus on the task at hand.
“Will you come with me to Linnaea?”