Royal Seductions: Diamonds: The King's Convenient Bride

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?

There was no way he would just leave her.

Her distress must have shown, because Miss Pryce looked suddenly alarmed. “If it’s an emergency—”

“No. No emergency.” She forced a smile. The last thing she wanted was for her assistant to know how deeply her feelings had been hurt. “It can wait until he returns.” Hannah gestured to the sofa. “Shall we get started?”

Hannah sat, and Elizabeth lowered herself stiffly beside her. Apparently it was going to take time for her to relax in Hannah’s presence. Baby steps.

“So, what’s on the schedule for today?”

“You meet with the decorator at eleven o’clock, followed by a luncheon at one with the wives of the heads of state.”

“That sounds nice.” She would be sure to skim the files Elizabeth brought so she could pluck at least a few of their names from memory. “What next?”

She went on, but Hannah was only half listening. Her mind was still stuck on Phillip’s abrupt disappearance. Was it possible that he wasn’t hunting at all? That he might be with another woman? And what if it was the mystery woman who wouldn’t stop staring at her?

She dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it formed. Now she was being paranoid and silly.

She wasn’t so naive as to believe that Phillip had saved himself for her. But he’d had the decency to keep that aspect of his life quite discreet. Which told her that he was a man of integrity. And men of integrity were faithful to their significant others.

Finding suspicion with his every action would only make her life miserable.

She was sure that if he had to leave, it was for a good reason. Though Phillip was her fiancé, and would later be her husband, he was a king first and foremost. A servant to his country. That was a fact she would have to accept.

This brief absence would just make them appreciate each other that much more when he returned.

This is just a hiccup, she assured herself. Everything would work out just the way she’d planned.

Phillip stood on the steps leading to the garden, an unseasonably warm breeze ruffling the collar of his shirt, his attention on his future wife.

She sat on a blanket in the shade of a tree whose leaves had just begun to change, legs folded underneath her, hair tumbling in silky chestnut waves down her back. She wore a simple slip dress the exact shade of amber as the turning leaves.

He stepped down onto the grass and walked toward her, finding himself mesmerized by her beauty, intrigued by the intense desire to be near her. To touch her again. In profile, her features looked finely boned and elegant. Regal and confident, with a hint of softness that he found undeniably appealing.

Fine breeding stock, his mother had assured him when the pairing had been suggested and he had yet to meet Hannah, or even see a photo of her. He recalled thinking at the time that his mother could have been describing a head of cattle, not a future member of the family.

Beside her on the blanket sat a pile of binders, and one lay open across her lap. She was so engrossed in whatever it was she was reading, she didn’t hear him approach.

“Good afternoon.”

She let out a squeak of surprise and the folder tumbled from her lap onto the ground. When she looked up and saw it was him standing there, she scrambled to her feet, which he noticed were bare.

“I’m sorry,” she said and executed a slightly wobbly curtsy. “You startled me.”

As she straightened, her hair slipped across her shoulders, thick and shiny, resting in loose spirals atop the swell of her breasts. It all but begged to be touched and his fingers itched to tangle in the silky ribbons. From that day forward he would insist that she never wear it up again.