Читать книгу The Prince She Had to Marry - Christine Rimmer - Страница 8

There were top secret meetings all that day. Alexander had work he should have been doing. But he put his work aside to be there while negotiations for his marriage to Lili were carried through.

No, there was no question as to the marriage itself. There would be one, and right away. Within the next day or two, everyone agreed—that is, everyone except Lili.

But no one was listening to Lili. They all tuned her out, even though she babbled incessantly. About love. And relationships. And her rights as a twenty-first-century woman.

“This is between Alexander and me,” she insisted. And, “I refuse to marry a man who doesn’t love me.” And, “I just think it’s wrong, that’s all. I just don’t think it’s right and I don’t see how you all can carry on blithely making your plans when I have said over and over that this is my decision—mine and Alex’s—and we need to be left alone to work this out, just the two of us. We need to come to some sort of peace between us, some sort of real understanding as people, as a woman and a man, before we can even begin to discuss something as enormous and life-altering as holy matrimony…. ”

They let her babble. They all knew you couldn’t shut her up if you tried.

More than once, she’d turned those huge aquamarine eyes his way. She reproached him. “Alex. Please. You know we have to talk.”

Whenever she turned those eyes on him, he only stared back at her long and steadily and without expression, until she gave in and looked away. Occasionally, Alex’s mother would pat Lili’s hand or give her a hug. And then the rest of them would go back to deciding what needed to be done.

Alex kept his peace through each of the interminable meetings. He sat at the bargaining table or stood by the door. And other than to make it perfectly clear that of course he and Lili would wed, he said nothing.

What could he say? He was still reeling in shock to learn that Silly Lili, as he always used to call her when they were younger, was carrying his child. He should have read her damned letter, or answered one of her strange, frantic telephone calls. But he hadn’t read the letter. And when she called, she’d mentioned nothing about a pregnancy. He’d assumed she was just being emotional as usual, that she was only after an opportunity to exercise the unpleasant flair for the dramatic that she’d inherited from Leo. He’d been sure she only wanted a chance to cry and carry on, to call him a cad and a defiler of innocent women.

How could he have touched her? He was completely disgusted with himself at what he had done. He wasn’t a defiler of innocent women.

Or he hadn’t been. Until that day two months before, when he’d heard someone sobbing outside his palace apartment. He still had no idea what had possessed him to look and see who it was.

He’d opened his door and stuck his head out. And there was Lili, all in white, kneeling on the inlaid tiles of the corridor floor, her long, pale gold hair falling forward, hiding her pretty face, her slim shoulders shaking with her sobs.

She must have heard the door open because she glanced up. Still sobbing, her eyes red and her perfect nose redder, tears streaming down her cheeks, she caught sight of him in the doorway. With a cry of sheer misery, she leaped to her feet. “Oh, Alex. The most terrible thing has happened. It’s Rule.” She said his older brother’s name with another agonized cry. “He’s married someone else.”

He should have retreated right then. He should have shut the door and locked it and not opened it again.

Instead, he’d pulled the door open wider. She must have taken that as an invitation. She’d thrown herself into his arms and drenched the front of his shirt with her tears.

By that point, he absolutely should have pushed her away and shut the door. But he hadn’t. He’d taken her into his sitting room and sat with her on the sofa and listened as she continued wildly sobbing, as she poured out her misery—that his brother loved another, that Rule would never be marrying her now, that Rule didn’t love her and never had. That she was nothing more than an honorary little sister to him, and always had been.

When she finally paused to suck in a few shaky, hiccupy breaths, he’d handed her a tissue and told her exactly what he was thinking. “Calm yourself, Lili. There is so much true suffering that exists in this world. Don’t you realize how little your petty problems matter in the larger scheme of things?”

His remarks had not gone over well. Lili had responded in her usual way. With an ear-flaying shriek of outrage, she’d drawn back her hand to slap his face.

He should have let her do that, allowed her to vent a little more of her considerable frustration. But no. He’d automatically caught her wrist before she could carry through.

And that was when it happened.

He still had no idea how. Or why.

All at once, she was in his arms. She smelled like her name, like some fine, sweet, exotic flower. She … overwhelmed him. There was no other word for it. Silly Lili overwhelmed him. Somehow, at that moment, having her in his arms was like holding hope and light and all the good things that were lost to him forever. Her skin was so soft and her eyes were the incomparable blue of lapis lazuli.

And then her mouth was under his, opening, sighing….

Something snapped in him. Something gave way.

What happened then was raw and perfect and really quite beautiful.

With Lili.

Lili, of all people.

Afterward, she smiled. So softly. Contentedly. And she reached up and laid her delicate, graceful little hand against his cheek. “Alex,” she whispered, as though his very name held wonder for her now.

He couldn’t bear that. He didn’t need her looking at him like that. She should never ever look at him like that.

And so he’d said without inflection, “You should go now.”

She did go. She pulled on her clothes swiftly—and silently, for once. Without looking at him again, without so much as another word, she left him.

After she was gone, he’d called himself any number of ugly and richly deserved names. And then he’d told himself it was best for her if they simply put the unfortunate incident behind them, if they went on with their separate lives as though it had never happened.

That was what he’d been trying to do. And then she sent that letter that he hadn’t allowed himself to open. She’d called him. Twice. Both times she’d left messages demanding he call her but giving no reason whatsoever why he should.

Now, at last, he knew why. Now it all made sense.

There would be a child and that meant they couldn’t put what had happened behind them. Now they only needed to do the right thing. And both her father and his family were as eager as Alex was to turn this potential disaster around.

A marriage between Leo’s only daughter and one of the Bravo-Calabretti princes would bolster the sometimes-strained relations between Alagonia and Montedoro. For years, most of the world had assumed that Lili would end up wed to Rule. But Rule’s heart had turned elsewhere. And none of the other three Bravo-Calabretti princes had seemed suitable matches for the Alagonian heir presumptive.

The baby, however, changed everything. Diplomatically speaking, Alex would do just as well as Lili’s groom as his older brother would have. The marriage would not only give his unborn child his name, but it would also forge an important bond between his and Lili’s countries.

No, he and Lili didn’t care much for each other. Nonetheless, their union would be a useful thing in more ways than one.

At four that afternoon, in the sitting room of the sovereign’s apartment, with all the doors firmly locked against spying eyes and listening ears, Lili was still arguing, still trying to put the brakes on. “Why should I marry Alex? How many times do I have to say it? He doesn’t love me and I don’t love him. We don’t even like each other. And we’re only asking for disaster to race to the altar this way.”

Leo sent her one of his fulminating glances—but at least when he answered her, he wasn’t shouting. “He’s the father of your child, Liliana. You are two months along. There is no time to waste and you have no choice.”

Lili sucked in an outraged breath—and started in again. “No choice? Excuse me. Of course I have a choice. This is not the dark ages, thank you very much, Papa. Nowadays, even a princess has a right to—”

“Shh, now, Lili. Hush.” Alex’s mother patted her hand. “It will be all right, my dearest. You’ll see.”

“But, Adrienne …”

His mother touched Lili’s cheek. “Shh. Think.” Gently she reminded Lili of what they all knew. “This could turn into an international incident. And no one wants that. I know it’s hopelessly stuffy and backward in many ways, but the rules for you, Lili—the rules for all of us—are different. We’re held to a higher standard. And neither your father nor Alex’s father nor I want our names or our family reputations dragged through the mud. No one wants a child of yours and Alexander’s to be born a bastard. Come now, Lili. You don’t want your child to be illegitimate, do you? Your child, by rights, will rule Alagonia one day. Why make it possible for anyone to question those rights?”

“I, well, I …” Lili’s full lower lip began to quiver.

His mother held out her arms. Lili went into them.

Adrienne held Lili close and stroked her slim back and said quietly to the rest of them, “So, then, the plan is made. As far as the world is concerned, Lili and Alex have been secretly in love for some time now—and are already married. That should serve to eliminate any potential for unpleasant public speculation as to the legitimacy of the child.”

They all nodded agreement. Lili released a small, strangled sob, but for once didn’t argue.

The story would be that he and Lili had just that day informed their families of their earlier elopement. Alex would shoulder the blame for the lack of a large, formal public ceremony. The official line would be that Alexander, such a private person after the horrible events he’d endured in Afghanistan, couldn’t bear all the pomp and circumstance of a royal wedding. So they had exchanged their vows in private before a sympathetic and discreet priest.

They would tell the world that both families were stunned at the news. And also deliriously happy for the newlyweds. Love was what mattered after all. They were all beside themselves with joy to learn that Her Royal Highness Liliana and His Serene Highness Alexander had bound themselves to each other, heart and hand, for as long as they both should live.

The real marriage was to take place in secret the next day, as the world at large got the fabricated story that he and Lili had eloped more than two months ago.

Bound. To Lili. She would drown him in her endless tears. And if he managed to survive the flood, she would then proceed to talk him to death.

But it couldn’t be helped and he knew it. For him and Lili, marriage was the only solution to this particular problem. And eventually, she would grow tired of trying to batter down a door he was never going to open. She would leave him alone to pursue his goals in peace. She would take care of the child and prepare herself—or their son, should the child be a boy—to rule Alagonia in time.

Once the plan was set, a light meal was brought in. They filled their grumbling stomachs as they waited for the lawyers to produce the endless array of necessary documents. When the documents were finally ready, they signed.

At last, at a little past nine, the final i was dotted. They were finished for the day.

Alex retired to his apartment. He showered and got into bed. To try and wind down a little, he treated himself to a few chapters of an excellent book on the covert operations of the special tactics units of the United States.

By one in the morning, he’d finished the book. The winding down was not happening. So he threw on some workout clothes and went to join the men of the all-new Montedoran special forces, which he had been instrumental in creating. The Covert Command Unit had barracks and training yards accessible through a series of tunnels beneath the palace.

Late into the night, Lili tossed and turned.

She’d been coerced. Unfair pressure had been brought to bear upon her. No one, not even Adrienne, whom she adored, had listened to her. In the States, they had a word for the way she’d been treated.

Railroaded.

Yes, she’d been railroaded into agreeing to marry a man she didn’t like, a man who made no secret of the fact that he thought she was a useless, silly person who talked too much. She yearned to find a way to back out of the marriage tomorrow.

But there was no way. There was no escape for her. She was a princess, the heir to a throne, and as Adrienne had made so painfully clear, different rules applied for her. Her duty demanded that she put aside her own feelings and desires and marry Alex. And for the sake of her child and her country, she would do exactly that.

All her life, she had dreamed of true, forever love. She wouldn’t have that now. Not with Alex. Alex didn’t love her. He didn’t love anyone. Maybe he couldn’t love anyone. Not anymore, at any rate.

He’d always been a cool and distant sort of man. But since he’d been captured and held prisoner in Afghanistan, his cool nature had turned to ice. And the distance he’d always maintained between himself and others had become a chasm too wide and deep for anyone, even the most determined of women, to cross.

Lili shivered at the thought of a lifetime bound to him, shackled to a man who never smiled, who looked right through her. The best she was ever going to get from Alex was the occasional bout of really splendid lovemaking.

Because that, at least, had been glorious. It seemed impossible that it could have been that good.

But it was—and she had been a virgin, untried and inexperienced, completely unskilled in the ways of passion and sexual fulfillment.

She sighed in spite of everything. It was a dreamy sigh. She couldn’t help it. Alex had shown her heaven that day in April. He’d shown her heaven—and then coldly cast her out.

And what about the baby? Was there any hope for her child? Would her poor little one have to grow up with a distant, coldhearted father? Her own father was far from perfect, but blustery King Leo’s unconditional love for her was the cornerstone of Lili’s life. She didn’t think she could have survived losing her dear mum five years ago if she hadn’t had her darling papa to turn to during that bleak time.

No, she simply couldn’t do it. International incident be damned, she would not let her child grow up with a distant, detached father.

Lili turned her head on the pillow and stared at the ornate miniature table clock by the bed. It was 3:02 a.m. And no matter what her father and Adrienne did or said, she was not going to be Alex’s bride that day. Not unless she and Alex could first come to some basic agreement about the marriage they were entering into and the kind of life they were going to share.

She rose from the bed, slipped her feet into satin slippers and pulled on her blush-pink silk dressing gown. Before she could let herself weaken, before she gave up without even trying and returned to her bed, she hurried through the sitting room of the apartment that had always been considered hers when she visited the Prince’s Palace.

Silently, she emerged into the corridor outside her rooms. She closed her door with great care. Then she took off at a run down the wide, arching hallways, her soft slippers making no sound on the marble floors.

Fortune smiled upon her, at least a little. She saw no one, which meant that no one waylaid her, no one asked her what in the world she thought she was doing, wandering the palace hallways so very late at night.

When she reached the door to Alex’s suite, her courage failed her. She stiffened her spine and retied the sash of her robe and gave the beautifully carved door three sharp raps with her knuckles.

Nothing. No answer.

She knocked again. And then, pausing to send furtive glances down the hallway in both directions, she knocked a third time. She pressed her ear to the heavy door.

Not a sound within. He wasn’t there.

Or, more likely knowing him, he was there, but he wasn’t answering.

Hah. If he thought she could be put off so easily, he should prepare for a surprise. Lili had a hairpin and she knew how to use it. In fact, she thought as she stuck the two pin ends in the keyhole and twisted them in a manner both precise and effective, she was a lot more capable than many gave her credit for.

The simple lock turned and the door swung silently inward. For the first time in too long, Lili allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction.

The high-ceilinged antechamber, dimly lit by wall fixtures, was deserted. Lili tiptoed inside and silently closed and locked the door behind her.

“Alex?” she whispered. “Are you there?” And then she drew back her shoulders and tried again, louder. “Alex, I mean it. We have to talk.” She waited. “Alex? Alex!”

Nothing.

She straightened her robe and flipped her hair back over her shoulders with both hands and marched into the dim sitting room. “Alex?”

No one was there.

So she turned to the hallway that led to his bedroom. When she got there, the door was shut.

As if a closed door could stop her now. She grasped the latch. Unlocked. She pushed the big door inward upon the darkened room—the room where Alex had carried her that bright April morning, the room where he had …

No. She wasn’t going to think about it. She wasn’t going to remember. She had more important things on her mind right now than the wonder and beauty that had occurred in this room—and the cold, heartless way he’d dismissed her afterward.

“Alex …”

Only silence greeted her. She flipped the wall switch and stared at the wide, empty, unmade bed. The tangled sheets and covers spilled to the floor. Apparently, Alex had not been able to sleep, either.

But where was he now?

The door to the bath stood wide. She marched over there and looked in.

No one.

Lovely. She’d worked up her courage to confront him, even gone so far as to break into his apartment. And he didn’t even have the good grace to be here so that she could tell him exactly what she thought of him.

What now?

Suddenly, she felt like a balloon with a slow leak. She returned to the massive carved bed and hoisted herself up onto it. “Oh, Alex …” She blew out a discouraged breath and let her shoulders slump. “What am I going to do with you?” She stared down at her little satin slippers and wondered if he would be back soon.

You just never knew with Alex. You could never predict the choices he might make. It was very annoying.

With another long sigh, she let her gaze wander. The room was large and well-appointed. Her glance caught on the night-table photo of Alex and that American friend of his—the one who had been with him in Afghanistan when he was captured, the one who had not made it back. In the photo, Alex and his friend sat together in a dusty open Jeep. They both wore desert fatigues and carried rifles.

They were also both grinning, the sunlight refracting off the lenses of their aviator sunglasses. Lili stared at Alex’s image and wondered if she’d ever seen him grin like that. Judging by the square, flat-topped buildings in the background and the desert terrain, she guessed the picture must have been taken during that ill-fated trip to Afghanistan. Taken before either Alex or his friend had any idea what was going to happen to them.

She didn’t know the details of Alex’s capture and imprisonment. But she did know it had lasted four years. Four endless years during which he must have suffered terribly, during which his friend had lost his life. Four years until, somehow, six months ago, he’d managed to escape.

Lili flopped back onto the tangled sheets and stared up at the coffered ceiling. All right, she felt a tiny bit … abashed. Looking at that picture reminded her that Alex did have his reasons for being Prince Cold, Mean and Unresponsive. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he must have endured during his time as a prisoner. She needed to be more understanding, to keep in mind what he’d been through when she wanted to call him unflattering names and slap his expressionless face.

Lili kicked off her slippers. They plopped to the bedside rug. She promised herself that she would try to be nicer to him. She would keep in mind the awfulness of what he’d survived. From this moment on, she’d make more of an effort to be understanding and patient and not to burst into tears or let her temper get the better of her.

She was so busy telling herself that she would really try and treat Alex more kindly that she didn’t hear the outer door open or even notice that a light in the sitting room had popped on. She remained stretched across the tousled sheets on her back, her arms spread wide and her bare feet dangling over the side.

The last thing she expected was to hear Alex say, “Lili, it’s almost four in the morning. What in hell are you doing here?”

She popped to a sitting position with a shocked little squeak. “Eek! Alex, you scared me.”

He was dressed in a sweat-drenched T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a similarly sweaty pair of frayed gray sweatpants. In fact, everything about him was sweaty—his more-granitelike-than-ever face, his close-cropped, thick brown hair, his muscular arms and deep, broad chest.

There were scars on his arms and on his neck, pinkish-white and rough against his tanned skin. She started to feel real sympathy for him.

And then he muttered darkly, “I’ll do a lot more than just scare you if you don’t tell me why you’re in my rooms.”

Softly, she reminded him, “You wouldn’t talk with me yesterday.”

“That’s because there was nothing to say.”

I am not going to start shrieking at him. I am not going to slap his smug, cold face, she reminded herself. He has suffered too much and I am going to be understanding and gentle with him.

Lili straightened her robe, which had fallen open to expose a lot more of her thighs than he needed to see at that moment. And she tried to look dignified, even if he had caught her sprawled in complete dishabille across his bed. “I’ve come to you stealthily in the middle of the night because I saw no other choice in the matter.”

“No other choice,” he echoed in a growl. “I’ll give you another choice. Return to your rooms. Do it now.”

No shrieking, she reminded herself again. And then she drew in a slow breath and hitched her chin higher. “Alex, I mean it. We really must talk.”

Alex was certain he’d locked the outer door when he left. It wasn’t a high-security lock, but it certainly should have served to keep Silly Lili out. “How did you get in here?”

She granted him a coy look from under her astonishingly long, silky eyelashes. “I have my ways.”

It was no answer, but he realized about then that he probably wouldn’t get an answer from her. The main thing was to get her to go. “Back to your rooms, Lili.”

She sat even taller. “Not until we talk.”

How many times did he have to remind her that they had nothing to say to each other? He started toward her, determined to get rid of her.

She put up a hand. “If you touch me right now, I am going to start screaming. I will scream as I run out your door and down the corridor, without even pausing to put on my slippers. I will wake up every servant and guest in the palace. It will not be pretty and everyone will blame you for abusing an innocent barefoot princess who happens to be dressed only in her nightclothes. And, of course, someone will leak the story to the tabloids, which will wreak havoc on all your carefully engineered plans to make it look as though you and I are passionately and totally in love.”

He paused in midstep. “They are not my plans.”

“Oh, I beg your pardon. You fully agreed to them.” She folded her arms under her beautiful, perfect breasts, causing the pink silk of her robe to cling more tightly. Now he could see the faint outline of her nipples. They were very fine nipples, as he remembered all too well.

He reminded himself that he needed to get rid of her. “We had no choice but to agree to those plans. I saw no other option, given our situation. And now, if you’ll just go back to your—”

She cut him off. “We do have choices,” she said in a so-noble tone that made his teeth hurt. “We always have choices.”

“You are not only hopelessly naive, Lili, but you are also thoughtless and self-centered. And wrong.”

Those enormous blue eyes glittered like sapphires—dangerous sapphires. “Insult me to your heart’s content. It won’t work. I’m not leaving until you talk with me.”

“Lili,” he said, rough and low. He dared another step.

She threw out a hand, palm out. “I mean it. I will scream.”

He held her gleaming gaze with his own, steady on. “You wouldn’t dare.”

She smiled pleasantly—and stared right back. “Go ahead, try me.”

He realized he was actually afraid she just might do what she’d threatened. She had him by the short hairs, damn those eyes.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed for the bath. Once through the door, he shut it. Rather harder than necessary. He twisted the privacy lock—even though, apparently, privacy locks were no good against her. Too bad. She would enter the bath at her own risk. He stripped off his sweat-drenched clothing and took a shower. A long shower.

When he finished, he put on the robe that hung on the peg behind the door and returned to the bedroom.

She was still there, sitting in the same spot on the bed, her little hands folded in her lap. “I do hope your shower has refreshed you—and possibly even improved your attitude.” She gave a shrug and a sigh. “Well. One can hope.”

He said nothing to her, only exited back into the sitting room, where he proceeded directly to the liquor cabinet. He grabbed a crystal glass and a decanter of very old scotch and poured himself a stiff one. He was sipping it slowly when she spoke from behind him.

“We have more than my country and your country to think of, Alex.”

He turned and faced her. She looked way too determined. And way too beautiful, with those amazing eyes of hers, those full pink lips and all that thick, silky, pale yellow hair. Raising his glass to her, he took another slow sip.

She laid her hand against her still-flat belly. “There’s the baby. The baby is what matters most of all.”

“Good. Then don’t allow him to be born a bastard.”

“Being born illegitimate is not the worst thing that can happen to a child.”

“Of course it’s not. But I wouldn’t call it a good thing. Would you call it a good thing, Lili?”

“I didn’t say it was a good thing.”

He topped off his drink. “Because it’s not a good thing. Not for a child who should have the right to a crown and could be denied that right because his mother refuses to marry his father.”

“My baby will have a father who loves him—or her,” she announced. “If you can’t love this baby, the baby is better off without you.”

“All right. I will love the baby.” He set down the decanter. “Happy now?”

“Not especially. Alex, if you can’t at least try to make a real marriage with me, I won’t marry you.” She spoke more softly then, and her eyes seemed suddenly far away. “All my life, I’ve wanted one thing above all—to have true love like my parents had. Like your mother and father have. Like Max had with Sophia.” Maximilian was the heir to his mother’s throne. Max’s wife, Sophia, had died while he was in Afghanistan. “Love like Rule and Sydney have found.”

He studied her for a long time. He pondered the goal: to get her to let him give their child his name. To achieve the goal, he should tell her whatever she needed to hear, which apparently was that he loved her. Deeply and completely. Somehow, he couldn’t wrap his mouth around a lie that large. “I can’t give you what you want, Lili. It’s simply not in me.” He steeled himself for her tears, for one of her big, emotional displays.

Her eyes remained dry. And when she spoke, it was calmly. Reasonably. “I realize that. I can accept that.”

Did he believe her? Hardly. She might be the most annoying woman he’d ever known, the most overwrought and emotional, the biggest chatterbox. But within her there lurked a will of iron. If she wanted something strongly enough, she would never rest until she had it.

Or until she drove anyone who stood in the way of her having it stark, raving mad.

Plus, beneath all the sweetness and meaningless chatter, she was quite intelligent. Sometimes she behaved stupidly, but there was a perfectly good brain inside that gorgeous head of hers. She was using it now. He could see the cogs turning. She was about to lay down terms.

He already knew what kind of terms. Terms that would have him agreeing to give her more than he could afford to give, more than he even knew how to give anymore. Five years ago, maybe. But not anymore. Whatever that place was inside a man, that place a woman filled and made warm and good and hopeful. That place was dead in him now. Uninhabitable.

She went on. “What I want from you is for you to try.”

He purposely did not make the scoffing sound that rose in his throat. “Try.”

“Yes. I want you make an effort to be a real husband to me. I want you to spend time with me. I want you to have breakfast with me every day and dinner as well. I want you to give me—to give us—the evenings, that time after dinner. I want us to spend our evenings together, just the two of us. I want you to tell me about your day and I will tell you about mine. I want us to share, Alex.”

Share. Did it get any worse? She wanted him to share.

She was still talking. “I want you to read the books I choose for you.”

“Books. Hold on just a minute. You’re choosing what books I read?”

“Not all the books you read, of course not.”

“I suppose you’ll have me studying those romance novels you so enjoy.”

“Don’t judge romance novels until you’ve read a few of them. One can learn a lot about love and life and relationships from a good romance.”

He had no words to reply to that one. So he said nothing. He didn’t really need to say much around Lili anyway. She had the talking covered, and then some.

She said, “No. Actually, I didn’t plan to have you reading romances, though I’m sure it would be good for you if you did.”

He made a grunting sound and left it at that.

“But I do think if you would just spend a little time with a few books on how to develop a meaningful and loving relationship with your spouse, it would really help you. Help us. And then once you’ve read the books I choose for you, we can discuss them—and tell me, have you been seeing a counselor or a priest?”

“For what?”

“For … help, with all you’ve been through. Surely you’ve noticed that you’ve changed, Alex.”

^“Yes, Lili, I’ve noticed. And no, I haven’t seen a counselor or a priest and I don’t intend to.”

“Oh, Alex …”

“And as to those books on love and marriage that you mentioned …”

“Yes?”

He knocked back more scotch. “No.”

Gingerly, she inquired, “No as to …”

All of it, he thought. He said, “Not the books, Lili. Or the priest. Or the counselor.”

“Ahem. Well. What about the rest?”

He saw no other way. He was going to have to pretend to go along, to bargain and then reluctantly come to an agreement. He needed to convince her that he would do what she wanted, that he would try. “Yes to the meals—the breakfasts, the dinners.”

“And the evenings? What about the evenings?”

He let the silence draw out before grunting, “All right, damn it. The evenings, too.”

She actually clapped her hands and the most radiant smile bloomed on those plump, way-too-kissable lips. “Oh, I’m so glad.”

^“But not every evening,” he said. “Two evenings a week.”

“Six.”

“Three.”

“Four.”

He repeated his previous offer. “Three.”

She considered, then stipulated, “Friday, Saturday and Sunday.”

“When possible.”

“Three at any rate. And you have to try to make them the evenings I just asked for.”

There was that word again. Try. Such a flexible word. And such a simple thing, to say one was trying when one actually wasn’t. “All right,” he grudgingly agreed.

“Wonderful. And we will share an apartment—this apartment will be fine.” She was too damn quick by half. He’d been counting on them keeping their separate suites, on her heading back to Alagonia as soon as the ink was dry on their secret marriage license.

But he supposed there was no help for it. If they were to pretend to be deeply in love for the whole world to see, they certainly couldn’t be living in separate quarters. “Fair enough.”

“And I will expect you to be my birth coach when the baby arrives. That means we’ll be going to childbirth classes together.”

He sent her a speaking look, one that told her exactly what he thought of being her birth coach.

Quickly, she added, “Spare me the put-upon glances. You’ll have time to become accustomed to the idea of the childbirth classes. They won’t even begin for four or five months yet.”

Anything could happen in four months. And the goal was to get her to marry him tomorrow. “All right.”

“Wonderful, then. For the first year, I’m willing to live here, in Montedoro, with you.”

The first year? “How generous of you.”

She nodded. “I know you have your … secret fighting force that you’re, um, working with.”

“The CCU is not a secret, Lili,” he informed her flatly. “Montedoro has no standing army. It’s simply expedient for us to have a small, specially trained corps of men at the ready to take action in a critical situation.”

“Yes. Expedient.” She wore an irritatingly patient expression. “I understand. And as I was saying, you need to be here for that. And as I mentioned earlier, I know you’ve been through a lot.”

“What does what I’ve ‘been through’ have to do with anything?” he demanded.

She answered carefully. “I just meant you’ve only been back for six months. I think you need more time here, in Montedoro, at the only home you’ve ever known, more time to … heal.”

To heal? How so? His wounds no longer festered. He’d put back on the thirty kilos he’d lost during his captivity, and then some. His “healing,” such as it was, was done. But he didn’t say that. He said nothing.

And she continued, “I’ve always loved Montedoro anyway. So let’s say a year, together, here at the Prince’s Palace. I’ll clear my calendar.”

“For the entire year?” She was constantly giving speeches at charity functions, working diligently to establish trusts for the needy. “Isn’t a year a bit extreme?”

“Perhaps, but necessary. I want our marriage to work. There’s the baby to think of, any way. I’ll want to take it easy from seven months or so on. And then I’ll need a few months to concentrate on our newborn. After the year is up, though, we will discuss a move to Alagonia—or a way to divide our time between our two countries.”

He had to give her credit. She was quite the negotiator. But it didn’t matter what he agreed to now. She would be fed up with him long before a year had passed. In the end, she would be only too happy for them to lead separate lives. He would make sure of that. “Agreed,” he said.

She folded her hands in front of her. “I want us to be happy, Alex.”

That was never going to happen. Not for him, anyway. “I’ll do my best.”

“And your best is all I can ask of you.” Her eyes were a deeper blue than ever right then, violet-blue. And her lips …

Better not to think about her lips. “Well, all right,” he said. “It’s settled.”

“Yes,” she answered quietly. “We’ll be married. This morning.”

He offered his hand.

She ignored it, surging forward on tiptoe instead, reaching up to take his shoulders, pulling him down and brushing the sweetest, too-swift kiss across his mouth. His senses flooded with the scent of her and her lips were infinitely soft. Warm.

He could have so easily broken free of her delicate hold, could have stepped back. But he didn’t.

He was captured. Disarmed. An all-too-willing prisoner.

Unbidden images flashed through his mind: Lili as a little girl, all dressed up as a fairy princess in a gossamer froth of purple and green, a foil crown on her head, a handmade wand in her hand. She wore wings, wire wings covered in transparent gauze. There was to be a play, wasn’t there, one of those plays she and his sisters were always putting on? He remembered her out by one of the fountains in the palace gardens, all dressed up to play a fairy princess, arms outstretched, turning in circles, giggling with happiness, her golden head tipped back, her face turned up to the sun.

The little-girl Lili faded away.

He saw her on that fateful morning in April, her hair flowing over his hands, her eyes dazed, dreamy. He saw the perfect curve of her hip, the concave temptation of her belly. The golden curls between her long, slim thighs. Her skin that was pale as milk, only faintly stained with pink.

Now, in the final hours of darkness on the morning they would marry, he had to steel himself to keep from reaching out, drawing her close, deepening that light, quick brush of a kiss.

Blessedly, within a few seconds, she let him go. “Good night, Alex,” she told him softly.

And then she turned and left him there, holding his empty glass and feeling bereft when he should have been grateful that she had gone.