“Did you enjoy the dinner?” he asked her, pulling off his tie and opening his shirt a few more buttons’ worth.
She nodded, going back and forth between thinking he was the most handsome man on earth to resenting how he’d treated her over the years.
“It was wonderful,” she admitted.
“I’m glad you liked it.” His eyes were deep and sultry. “I want you to be happy.”
But still he expected her to marry Prince Alphonso.
He left the room and she turned away and looked at the moonlight over the lake. She really didn’t know Alphie well, but she’d met him a time or two, and this last summer he’d come to the lake to see her for four days—the longest, dreariest four days of her life.
If only he were more like Andre maybe she could stomach the thought of it. But he wasn’t like Andre. Nobody was like Andre. She put her hands against the cool glass and sighed.
He came back into the room, poured himself a drink and got her a lemonade—this time without enhancement. She sat on the long couch and stared at it. He was treating her like a child again, she supposed, but there were so many things she was trying to fight him on, she decided to take a pass on this one.
She was defying him and she was going to go on defying him. What was he going to do about it? Actually, the answer to that terrified her. He was the scariest man she knew. And yet her soul was filled with a pure, crystal-clear, female anger—the anger of a woman who felt she deserved a little more attention than she had been getting. If he thought he was going to start shooting orders at her and having people confined to their quarters and things like that, he could think again. Those tactics weren’t going to make her change her mind. This wasn’t the old dark ages of the royal world any longer. He couldn’t get away with the Anne Boleyn treatment these days. She had a few rights of her own, and he was going to have to listen to her point of view.
She looked down the couch at where he was sitting. He hadn’t spoken for a long time and he was staring moodily out the darkened window. Dark curls had fallen over his forehead in a very sexy way. He was so handsome. Her anger began to melt away. She knew he was thinking over the situation and that he was trying to decide what to do with her, how to fix this dilemma. She had a sudden surge of sympathy for him.
“Do you remember how we used to play chess?” she asked him.
He looked up and met her gaze. Reluctantly, he gave her a half-smile. “Certainly.”
“And how I used to let you win?” she added mischievously.
“Let me win?” A look of outrage flashed over his face, and then he laughed. It was the first genuine laugh she’d seen from him, and a bubble of happiness burst in her chest. This was the Prince Andre she remembered.
Rising, she moved down and sat very close to him.
“I understand that I’m making waves. I understand that this is a problem that you feel you have to solve. But you know what? You don’t really have to solve it.”
“No?” He searched her eyes as though looking for a hopeful sign.
“No. I’m sure one of my cousins from my uncle’s second marriage would be glad to marry him. And that should fulfill …”
He rose, making a sound of disgust. “Julienne, stop it. Your name is on the treaty. You are the only bride Alphonso will accept. And a marriage between the highest-ranked in our two houses is the only thing the Rubiat will accept. If they don’t see that happen, they’ll feel justified in attacking again.”
“I don’t understand. Why do they care that much?”
“Tradition. You can’t fight it. It’s in their blood.”
She shook her head. “But why do they care so much about Alphonso and me? What do we mean to their lives?”
“The two of you are nothing. It’s the Houses you represent. The royal families. The myths. And their need for power.”
She sat very still, thinking that over, wishing she could pull it apart and find a flaw so that she would attack it properly. But very soon she forgot all about that. She was sitting very close to him, her thigh touching his, and little by little that became the whole