with champagne. Zale lifted his flute. “To my princess,” he said, a half smile playing at his lips.
“To my king,” she replied, clinking the rim of her glass to his.
They drank and the champagne’s tiny bubbles fizzed in her mouth and the cold liquid warmed as it went down.
“Have all Raguvian kings married royalty?” Hannah asked, setting her flute back on the table. “Has no one married a … commoner?”
“Only once in the past two hundred years and he gave up his throne to marry her.”
“Why is a blue-blood bride essential?”
“Our monarchy grew out of a tribal kingship that spanned nearly a thousand years, and the Raguvian people have fought hard to preserve the monarchy, although today we are—like Brabant—a constitutional monarchy.”
Hannah knew the differences between monarchies from working for Sheikh Koury.
There were absolute monarchies like those in the Middle East—Brunei, Saudi Arabia, Qatar—and then there were constitutional monarchies like those in Belgium, Sweden, Monaco and the United Kingdom. A constitutional monarchy gave a king power as defined by each country’s constitution.
Her brow furrowed. “Does it actually say in your constitution that you must marry a royal?”
“Yes.”
“You couldn’t marry a commoner?” “Not without relinquishing the throne.” “And you wouldn’t do that?” “I could not.”
She noticed his word choice. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. “Why couldn’t you?”
“I could never be selfish enough to put my needs before that of my country.”
She ran a fingertip around the base of the flute stem, watching the tiny gold bubbles of champagne rise to the surface and pop.
Even if Zale wanted Hannah Smith, he wouldn’t choose her. Even if Zale should love her, he wouldn’t keep her. “Have you ever dated a commoner?” she asked, voice breaking.
“All my girlfriends were commoners.” His lips curled, slightly mocking. “You are my first princess.”
And she wasn’t even a real princess, either.
Her heart grew even heavier during dinner. It didn’t help that when Zale looked at her, she lost track of time. In his eyes there was just now, only now, and right now she was happy. Lucky. Good.
Suddenly Zale was standing and extending his hand to her. “Your Highness,” he said, his smile warming his eyes, warming her, making her feel so very alive. But then, he was so very alive. “May I have this dance?”
She looked up into his lean face with the strong brow, firm mouth and uncompromising chin and a frisson of feeling raced through her. “Yes.”
She rose, putting her hand into his, inhaled as sensation exploded inside her, making her body go hot and cold. Again. He’d done it again. Made her want, made her feel, making her aware of just how much she loved him.
Zale led her toward the dance floor as the orchestra started playing the first notes of an achingly familiar love song she’d played endlessly on her guitar growing up.
“Your favorite song,” Zale murmured as he pulled her into his arms and close to his tall lean frame.
Hot emotion rushed through her. How did he know?
And then as his hand settled low on her back, his warmth scorching her through her thin gown, she remembered he meant Emmeline.
Of course he meant Emmeline. But Emmeline wasn’t coming. It all ended tonight.
For a moment she couldn’t breathe, suffocated by crushing pain.
Early tomorrow morning she’d slip away, leaving him a note. He’d hate her when he found the note. She’d never forgive herself for deceiving him, either.
“You’re a good dancer,” she whispered.
“That’s because you’re my perfect partner.”
Eyes burning, heart on fire, she tipped her head back and was immediately lost in Zale’s eyes. She loved his face. Loved everything about him far too much. “You are full of compliments tonight, Your Majesty.”
He smiled at her. “I’m happy.”
He did look happy. His light brown eyes glowed. “I’m glad.” “Marry me, Emmeline.” “I thought we were?”
“I’m proposing again so we can start over. Start fresh. This isn’t about our families or our countries. This is about us. Will you marry me?”
Her eyes filled with tears. She blinked to clear her vision. “You’re sweeping me off my feet.”
“It’s what I should have done from the beginning.”
“I had no idea you were such a romantic.”
His steady gaze held hers. “So is that a yes, Your Highness? Or do you need time to think about it?”
Her chest ached. How could she say no? How could she ever refuse him anything? “Yes.”
He smiled, a great boyish smile that lit his face and made him look utterly irresistible. “Thank God. For a moment I thought you intended to