The King's Convenient Bride / The Illegitimate Prince's Baby
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“Indeed.”
“You think she’s ready for this?”
He nodded, and said with genuine honesty, “I do.”
“I agree,” she said. “The real question, Your Highness, is are you ready for her?”
This day turned out to be, by far, the most demanding, frightening and exciting in Hannah’s life. After the receiving line, which in itself took the better part of an hour, they attended a luncheon in her honor. Following a meal she had been too self-conscious to do more than pick at, she and the king mingled with dozens of state officials and their spouses. So many, in fact, that remembering all of their names would take nothing short of a miracle.
After lunch there was a photo shoot in the garden, followed by a short press conference in which she and the king were bombarded by the reporters with questions of her background and education, how she felt about becoming queen, their upcoming nuptials and the plans for the gala to celebrate the country’s 500th anniversary.
To stand beside the king, to feel the air of confidence and supremacy all but spilling from his pores, was as fascinating as it was intimidating. He was the most powerful man in the country and he embraced the designation. And for what wasn’t the first time that day, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d gotten in way over her head. Years of training and preparation and still she felt overwhelmed. She knew though, had her father been there, he would have been so proud of her, and that was all that mattered.
She endured another exhausting evening meal shared with a new blur of names and faces she barely had a hope of remembering, although there was one woman she recognized from earlier in the day. And only because of the way she watched Hannah so intently. She was dark and very beautiful, close to Hannah’s age, if not a year or two older. She had the kind of voluptuous figure that turned men’s heads. Hannah considered going to talk to her, but that would require leaving Phillip’s side, and she wasn’t ready to do that yet. But every time Hannah looked her way, the woman was watching. Shamelessly and blatantly. But just as Hannah began to feel uncomfortable, the woman vanished. She craned her neck, checking every corner of the room, but didn’t see her.
That was odd. And she couldn’t shake the feeling she had imagined her.
After another hour of small talk and chatter, the king finally bid the guests good-night and offered to escort Hannah to her suite.
She was so exhausted, the thought of collapsing into bed made her want to weep with relief.
Offering his arm, Phillip led her to the private residence at the north end of the palace. Though it may have been used only by the family and limited staff, it was no less luxurious than the common areas. More modern, and not nearly so formal, but dripping in extravagance and style. Her parents’ estate in Seattle was by no means small, but wealth of this magnitude was foreign to her.
It would take some getting used to.
The instant they were inside with the door closed, he unfastened the button at the collar of his jacket and, just like that, transformed back into the less intimidating version of himself—the compassionate man who had whisked her up the palace steps and inside to the sanctuary of the library.
“You did well today,” he told her.
“To be honest, it’s all a bit of a blur.” And all she could comprehend at the present moment was the pain in her feet. The desperate need to kick out of the pumps the salesgirl had assured her would spare her any discomfort. Like walking on a cloud, my foot.
“Would it be possible to get a photo and bio of the government officials?” she asked.
He regarded her curiously. “What for?”
“So I can learn their names. I met so many people tonight, I have no hope of remembering them all and I don’t want to appear rude. That should include information of their spouses and families as well. I’m assuming you can do that.”
The king looked surprised and impressed. “Of course. You’ll have it first thing tomorrow.”
They stopped outside what she assumed was her suite. “I have to apologize for the temporary accommodations,” he said. “This suite is somewhat small.”
She didn’t care about the size. So long as it had a tub to soak in and a bed to melt into, he wasn’t going to hear her complaining. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
He opened the door. “You’ll stay here while the permanent suite is being renovated. In fact, I believe you have an appointment with the decorator tomorrow afternoon.”
She didn’t want to think any further ahead than a hot bubble bath, but as he led her inside, she found herself facing three more new faces. Two were dressed in formal black-and-white maid’s uniforms and the other in a modest, navy-blue pinstripe business suit.
“Hannah, I’d like to introduce you to your staff. Miss Cross and Miss Swan, your personal maids, and your personal assistant, Miss Pryce.”
All three curtsied and said in unison, “My lady.”
She smiled and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Miss Pryce stepped forward, a leather-bound folder tucked under one arm. “I have your schedule, my lady, and your agenda for tomorrow.”
“My fiancée is quite exhausted,” Phillip said. “I think this can wait until morning.”
She nodded and retreated a step. “My apologies, sir.”
With little more than a flick of his wrist and tilt of his head, he dismissed her staff. “Your suite includes a sitting room, sleeping chamber and office.”
“And a bathroom, I hope.”
He smiled. “Of course. With all the amenities you could possibly need. In your office you’ll see that you’ve been supplied with all the computer equipment you asked for.”
“Thanks.” She turned in a circle, taking in the decor. The room was decorated in neutral shades of brown and beige and the furniture looked comfortable and inviting. It was more than large enough to suit her. Larger even than her residence on her parents’ estate. She wasn’t sure why they would go through the trouble of decorating a suite especially for her since, after the wedding, she would be sharing a suite with her husband.
Or maybe they would be moving into the new suite together. In which case it was nice of him to let her do the decorating. To extend that sort of trust to a woman he barely knew. “It’s lovely, and more than adequate.”
“Excellent.” He removed his jacket and tossed it over the arm of a chair. Underneath he wore a plain, white long-sleeved knit shirt, similar to a mock turtleneck. It clung to the contours of his chest and arms, accentuating what appeared to be toned, defined muscle underneath. Even without the bulk of his jacket, the expansive width of his shoulders was impressive to say the least.
She wondered how it would feel to put her hands on him. How would his arms feel around her?
The thought of him touching her, and their almost-kiss in the library, had her blushing from her toes to the ends of her hair.
Once again they were alone together. Just the two of them, but this time in her suite. Mere steps away from the bedroom. And Hannah seriously doubted that Princess Sophie, who she had seen sneaking off with one of the guests shortly after dinner, would be around to interrupt them this time.
Is that why he’d sent the staff away? Did he have…plans for them?
He walked across the room to a cabinet that held a dozen or so decanters of alcohol, chose one and poured them each a drink. He turned to her, looking surprised to see that she was still rooted firmly to the same spot.
“It’s been a long day,” he said, walking toward her. “Sit down. Relax.”
Her feet were throbbing, but the idea of taking off her shoes while he was in the room made her feel so…vulnerable. “You’re staying?”
“Would you prefer I leave?”
“No, of course not. I just… Is this okay?”
He set both drinks on the table beside the couch. “Is what okay?”
“You being in my suite. You know…before the wedding.”
He shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“It’s not against the rules?”
“Is there a reason it should be?”
Why did she get the feeling he was making this up as he went along? “Next you’ll be telling me it’s all right for you to tuck me into bed.”
His mouth tipped up in a feral smile. “If that’s what you wish.”
He was teasing her again, and she was a little stunned to realize that she was teasing him right back. It was…empowering. And a little scary.
“As you pointed out earlier, I’m a king. I make the rules.” He gestured to the couch. “Join me?”
Her feet were killing her, and God knows it would feel absolutely wonderful to sit down. Maybe just for a little while.
She took a step forward, then hesitated.
“Don’t worry. I don’t bite.” A grin split his face. “Unless, of course, you would like me to.”
She bit her lip.
“You can trust me,” he assured her.
Maybe that wasn’t the problem. Maybe it wasn’t Phillip’s behavior that she questioned.
Maybe it was herself she didn’t trust.
Three
Phillip sighed.
He had things to do tonight. A long-awaited task to accomplish, but she wasn’t making this easy. Of course, he probably wasn’t helping matters. But he did so very much enjoy teasing her. “I promise to be on my best behavior.”
She surprised him again by folding her arms across her chest and saying, “With no frame of reference, how can I begin to know what your best behavior is?”
He liked Hannah, and was saddened by the thought that it wouldn’t last. That someday soon he would grow bored with her. But he might as well enjoy it while it lasted. “How about I promise to keep my hands to myself? All right?”
She considered that, and he wasn’t sure if she looked relieved or disappointed. Finally, she nodded. “All right.”
She walked to the couch and sat primly on the edge of the cushion—knees pressed firmly together and tipped to one side—smoothing the creases from her skirt and jacket. He sat beside her, far enough away that it would be considered proper by anyone’s standards.
“Feel free to remove the torture devices from your feet,” he said, and at her look of confusion, added, “Your shoes. They look uncomfortable.”
She glanced down, a pained look on her face, then blatantly lied to him by saying, “They feel fine.”
Why did she have to be so…difficult? He wasn’t exactly looking forward to what he had to do, but it would go much more smoothly if she would just relax.
He handed her a drink, watched as she took a sip, then he took a healthy swallow of his own. Hopefully the alcohol would loosen her up a bit. Make this less painful for both of them. Not that he thought she would voice an objection once he got started.
He had considered the garden as a more suitable location. More romantic, he supposed, but more than likely someone would have seen. In a life so very public, he felt he deserved a few private moments. Especially for an act as intimate as the one he was about to perform.
Maybe it was like taking off a bandage. The faster he did it, the less it would sting.
He downed the last of his brandy then took Hannah’s barely touched glass from her and set them both on the table.
Well, here goes.
With Hannah watching him curiously, he lowered himself to the floor beside the couch on one knee and produced the small velvet box from his pants pocket.
Hannah’s eyes went wide and her mouth fell open in surprise before she caught herself and snapped it shut again.
He flipped the box open to reveal the fourteen-carat diamond ring that had been passed down through his family for the past twelve generations. Hannah gasped softly.
Breaking his promise not to touch her, he took her hand in his. “Hannah Renault, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
In a soft, breathy voice, she said, “Of course I will.”
He lifted the ring from the satin pillow that was inside the velvet box and slipped it on her ring finger, feeling the sickening sensation of his freedom slithering from his grasp.
He let go of her hand and she stared in wonder at the enormous rock on her finger. When she looked back up at him, a pool of tears welled in her eyes.
Bloody hell, did she have to go and do that? As if this wasn’t awkward enough. But for her sake, he did his best to hide his discomfort. Besides, what woman wouldn’t get a little misty-eyed to have such a fine piece of jewelry in her possession?
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” she said wistfully.
Or so big, he imagined. If there was one constant with women, it was a love of things that sparkled. “It’s been in my family for generations.”
“It’s amazing.”
The moisture building in her eyes hovered precariously at the edge of lids, threatening to spill over at any second. A good reason for him to—as the Americans liked to say—get the hell out of Dodge.
He shifted his weight, preparing to pull himself to his feet, but before he got the chance, she vaulted off the couch, threw her arms around his neck and hugged him.
In all of her preparations for this marriage, not even in the instructions that had been sent to her, breaking down the events of her first day in the palace, had one word been mentioned about a formal proposal. Which, in her mind, could mean only one thing.
He had gotten down on one knee before her not out of duty, but simply because he wanted to.
It was the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. Like her fairy-tale dream coming true. And it was the only logical way to explain how, one minute she was sitting across from him, and the next she was pressed up against him, her arms linked tightly around his neck.
She felt his arms circle her, his large palms settle on and cover the entire width of her hips. He smelled masculine and inviting. And she liked the way their bodies fit together just right. The warm, solid feel of him. He made her feel…safe.
But was she really? His hands were mere inches from parts of her that had never been touched by a man. Parts that shouldn’t be touched for at least another two weeks. Then his grip on her tightened almost imperceptibly.
A warm shiver of awareness coursed through her from her head all the way to her toes and she was suddenly hyperconscious of not only his body, but of her own. The slight quickening of her breath. The tingle in her breasts where they crushed the solid wall of muscle in his chest. She could even feel the heat of his skin seeping through the layers of their clothing.
A hot curl of desire started in her belly and spiraled outward in a thrilling rush. Into her arms and legs, her fingers and toes, and some very interesting and wicked places in between.
Every scent and sound and sensation seemed to jumble together, making her feel dizzy and confused. There was an incredible energy building between them. She could feel his breath deepen, his pulse quicken to keep time with her own frantically beating heart.
It was frightening and exciting and arousing all at the same time. And though she knew it was wrong, it felt too good to stop.
Phillip moved his head and Hannah felt the scrape of his beard stubble against her cheek. The warm rush of his breath on her ear. Pull away, her conscience warned. You do not want to do this.
Oh yes, I do, answered back the part of her that had been looking forward to this for the past eight years.
His lips were so close. So near she could almost taste them. He moved his head, nuzzled her cheek lightly, and everything inside her melted to hot liquid. If she hadn’t already been sitting, her legs surely would have buckled out from under her.
Anticipation buzzed between them like an electric, live wire. He turned just a little and she felt his lips…on her cheek, at the corner of her mouth….
His mouth brushed hers and though she was expecting it, longing for it even, it still surprised her. And scared her half to death. It felt too wonderful, and she had come too far, saved herself for too long, to turn back now.
Gathering up the absolute last shred of restraint left in her, she turned and rested her head on his shoulder. “You promised me that you would keep your hands to yourself.”
His voice sounded rough when he spoke. “That’s not exactly fair, considering you started it.”
She couldn’t argue with that. She had literally thrown herself at him. The only person to blame here was herself. “You’re right. But we have to stop.”
“No, we don’t.” His hands slid from her hips to the indent of her waist. He nuzzled the tender spot just below her ear and she shivered. “You can’t tell me that you don’t want this as much as I do.”
Of course she did, maybe even more, but that wasn’t the point. She dropped her arms from around his neck and flattened her palms on his chest. “As you get to know me, you’ll find I have this annoying habit of doing things by the book. And we’re not married yet.”
“No one will know.”
“I’ll know.”
He sighed, a long, tired sound tinged with frustration. Then lifted her up, as though she weighed nothing, and deposited her back on the couch.
Since she didn’t trust herself and she clearly couldn’t rely on him to apply the brakes, from now on there would be no more temptation. That meant no kissing or touching of any kind until after the wedding. “We’ve waited this long. Two more weeks aren’t going to kill us.”
He pulled himself to his feet. “Speak for yourself.”
She diverted her gaze, finding that it both embarrassed her and gave her a depraved thrill to know that touching her had aroused him. “Are you angry with me?”
The hard lines of his face softened. “Of course not. If more people honored their values the way you do, the world would be a much better place.”
Of all the things he could have possibly said to her, that had to have been the sweetest. And he said it so honestly, as though he really meant it. Maybe he wasn’t so tough as he liked people to think.
“I should go,” he said. “You’ve had a long day.”
“I am exhausted,” she admitted. With the time change and the long trip, she had been up for more than twenty-four hours straight.
“There’s a directory by the phone if you should need anything.” He grabbed his jacket from the chair and walked to the door.
She followed, several steps behind. “Thank you.”
He stopped, hand on the doorknob, and turned to her. “For what?”
She shrugged, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She was twenty-four years old and still so terribly naive about certain things. But anxious to learn. “I don’t know. Everything, I guess.”
“You’re welcome.” He pulled the door open, then hesitated. “By the way, where do you keep your lipstick?”
“Lipstick?”
“You carried no handbag, yet you’ve freshened your lipstick numerous times throughout the course of the day. I was just wondering where you were hiding it.”
It was funny that he had even noticed. Although, she had the sneaking suspicion there wasn’t much that the king missed.
She smiled. “A proper lady, Your Highness, never tells.”
“I had a feeling you would say that.” With a shake of his head, he stepped into the hall, then turned back one last time. “I should warn you, my lady, that I am used to getting what I want when I want it. Though we may not officially consummate this relationship until after the wedding.” His mouth curled into a hungry, feral smile. “I can’t promise that in the meantime there won’t be a bit of fooling around.”
At first she thought he was only teasing her again, but she could see, by the look in his eyes, that he was dead serious.
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. What could she possibly say? It occurred to her, not for the first time that day, that she was way out of her league.
He flashed her the smile of a man who knew he had just hit his mark. “Good night, Hannah. Sleep well.”
The door snapped shut quietly behind him, and she didn’t doubt for an instant that he would make good on his threat.
And damned if she barely slept a wink all night.
Four
Hannah was awake, showered and dressed when Miss Pryce knocked on the door to her suite the next morning at 9:00 a.m. on the dot. Beating down a monster case of jet lag, Hannah opened the door and invited her in.
“Good morning, my lady.” She curtsied, quite an impressive feat considering her arms were stacked with file folders and binders. “I have the information you requested.”
“My gosh, someone must have been up all night compiling this.” She shuddered to think of all the reading she had ahead of her. She would have to call down for a second pot of coffee. But with any luck, the mystery woman from yesterday would be among the pages and Hannah might learn her identity. And maybe have some clue as to why she’d watched Hannah so intently.
“Would you like it in your office?” Miss Pryce asked.
She hated being cooped up in an office. “Why don’t you set it down on the table by the sofa.”
She did as requested then stood stiffly, clutching the leather binder she’d had with her last night. The dreaded schedule.
“Would you care for a cup of coffee, Miss Pryce?”
“No, thank you.”
“I could call down for tea.”
She didn’t even crack a smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”
How about a valium, or shot of whiskey? Hannah thought. She wondered if everyone around here was always this formal. If so, it was going to take some serious getting used to. For them, that is. Hannah’s staff at home had always been more like an extension of the family than actual employees.
Being royalty didn’t mean she had to be a cold fish.
“Do you have a first name, Miss Pryce?”
She looked confused. “Of course.”
“What is it?”
She hesitated for an instant, as though she wasn’t quite sure why Hannah would even ask. “Elizabeth.”
“May I address you by your first name?”
Miss Pryce looked utterly confused.
Hannah sighed. Something this simple shouldn’t be so difficult. “Miss Pryce, I’m not sure how things are done here in the palace, but as my personal secretary, I can only assume we’ll be spending quite some time together.”
Miss Pryce nodded.
“In that case, it would be nice if I could address you by your first name.”
“Of course, my lady. I would be honored.”
This my lady stuff was going to get old fast. “And I don’t suppose there would be any chance you could call me Hannah?”
Miss Pryce lowered her eyes and shook her head. “That wouldn’t be proper. I would lose my job.”
She would push the issue, but Hannah could see that she was making her uncomfortable. After she and Phillip were married, at least her title would change to a less pretentious, Ma’am.
“Before we get started, I was hoping to have a word with my fiancé.” Since he left her suite last night, she had been anticipating seeing him again. She had a million questions to ask him. Things about him she was dying to know.
“He’s not here.”
“Oh. Do you know when he’ll be back?”
“Friday, I think.”
“Friday?” Five days?
“If the weather holds,” she added.
“Weather?”
“He and his cousin, Sir Charles, don’t care to hunt in the rain.”
Hunt? He went hunting?
She willed herself to remain calm, to ignore the deep spear of disappointment that lodged in her heart. She’d been here less than twenty-four hours and he’d left to go on a hunting trip? That would leave them barely a week to get to know one another before the wedding. Didn’t he care about her?
Calm down, Hannah. Of course he did. His actions yesterday proved his affection for her. There had to be a logical reason. A hunting trip to disguise business, maybe? Some secret trip no one could know the truth about?