Prince of Scandal




He took her hand before she could snatch it away. Heat engulfed her, radiating from his touch and searing her skin even as his intentions chilled her marrow.

‘I have a stake in your future,’ he murmured.

Automatically she jerked up her chin. ‘Really?’ The word emerged defiantly.

‘A very personal stake.’ His grip firmed, all except for his thumb, which stroked gently across her palm, sending little judders of awareness through her. ‘Not only are you the Ardissian heiress, you’re destined to be Queen of Maritz.’ He paused, eyes locking with hers.

‘That’s why I’m here. To take you back as my bride.’

CHAPTER THREE



LUISA watched his firm lips shape the word ‘bride’. Her head reeled.

There was no laughter in his eyes. No wildness hinting at insanity. Just a steady certainty that locked the protest in her mouth.

Her lungs cramped from lack of oxygen as her breath escaped in a whoosh. She lurched forward, dragging in air. He grasped her hand tight and reached for her shoulder as if to support her.

Violently she wrenched away, breaking his grip and retreating to stand, panting, beside the window.

‘Don’t touch me!’

His eyes narrowed to slits of green fire and she sensed that behind his calm exterior lurked a man of volatile passions.

‘Explain. Now!’ she said when she’d caught her breath.

‘Perhaps you’d better sit.’

So he could tower over her? No, thank you! ‘I prefer to stand.’ Even if her legs felt like unset jelly.

‘As you wish.’ Why did it sound like he granted her a special favour in her own house?

He had royal condescension down to an art form.

‘You were going to explain why you need to marry.’ For the life of her, Luisa couldn’t say ‘marry me’.

His look told her he didn’t miss the omission.

‘To ascend the throne I must be married.’ At her stare he continued. ‘It’s an old law, aimed to ensure an unbroken royal lineage.’

A tremor scudded through her at the idea of ‘ensuring the royal lineage’. With him.

It didn’t matter how handsome he was. She’d learnt looks could hide a black heart. It was the inner man that counted. From what she’d seen, Raul was as proud, opinionated and selfish as her detested grandfather.

The way he looked when she challenged him—jaw tight and eyes flashing malachite sparks, was warning enough.

Luisa’s heartbeat pounded so hard she had trouble hearing his next words.

‘It’s tradition that the crown prince take a bride from one of Maritz’s principalities. When we were in our teens a contract was drawn up for my marriage to your cousin, Marissa, Princess of Ardissia. But Marissa died soon after.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Luisa said gruffly. She searched his features for regret but couldn’t read anything. Didn’t he feel something for his fiancée who’d died?

She pursed her lips. Obviously the heartless arranged marriage was still alive and thriving in Maritz!

‘After that I was in no hurry to tie myself in marriage. But when my father died recently it was time to find another bride.’

‘So you could inherit.’ Luisa shivered, remembering that world where marriages were dynastic contracts, devoid of love. She crossed her arms protectively. How could he be so sanguine about it?

‘My plans were curtailed when your grandfather’s will was read and we discovered you would inherit. Before then, given what he’d said about disowning your mother, your branch of the family didn’t feature in our considerations.’

He made them sound like tiresome complications in his grand design! Indignation rose anew.

‘What has the will got to do with your marriage?’

‘The contract is binding, Luisa.’ He loomed far too close. Her lungs constricted, making her breathing choppy.

‘But how?’ Luisa paced away, urgently needing space. ‘If Marissa is—’

‘Everyone, including the genealogists and lawyers, believed your grandfather’s line would die with him. The news he had a granddaughter who hadn’t been disinherited was a bombshell.’ He didn’t look as if the news had pleased him. ‘You should be thankful we were able to find you before the media got the story. You’d have had press camped here around the clock.’

‘You’re overdramatising.’ Luisa’s hands curled tight as she forced down growing panic. ‘I’ve got nothing to do with your wedding.’

One dark eyebrow winged upwards. ‘The antiquated style of the contract means I’m bound to marry the Princess of Ardissia.’ He paused, his mouth a slash of pure displeasure. ‘Whoever she is.’

‘You’re out of your mind!’ Luisa retreated a frantic step, her stomach a churning mess. This truly was a nightmare. ‘I never signed any contract!’

‘It doesn’t matter. The document is legal.’ His lips twisted. ‘The best minds in the country can’t find a way out of it.’

She shook her head, her hair falling across her face as she backed up against the window. ‘No way! No matter what your contract says, you can’t take me back there as—’

‘My bride?’ The words dropped into echoing silence. Luisa heard them repeat over and over in her numbed brain, like a never-ending ripple spreading in a still, icy pool.

‘Believe me; I’ll do what’s necessary to claim my throne.’ His chin lifted regally, making clear what he hadn’t put in words: that he didn’t wish to marry someone so far beneath him. Someone so unappealing.

Why was he so desperate? Did power mean so much?

Luisa choked on rising anger. Twenty-four years old and she’d received two marriage offers—both from ambitious men who saw her as nothing but a means to acquire power! Why couldn’t she meet a caring, honest man who’d love her for herself? She felt soiled and cheap.

‘You expect me to give up my life and marry you, a total stranger, so you can become king?’ What century had he dropped out of? ‘You’re talking antiquated nonsense.’

His look grazed like shards of ice on bare skin. ‘It may be antiquated but I must marry.’

She jutted her chin. ‘Marry someone else!’

Something dangerous and dark flashed in his eyes. But when he spoke his words were measured. She sensed he hung onto his control by a thread.

‘If I could I would. If you hadn’t existed or if you’d already married, the contract would be void and I could choose another bride.’

As if choosing a wife took a minimum of time and effort!

Though in his case it might. With his looks, sexual magnetism and wealth there’d be lots of women eager to overlook the fact they tied themselves to a power hungry egotist!

His deep voice sent a tremor rippling through her overwrought body. ‘There’s no more time to find a way out. I need to be married within the constitutional time limit or I can’t inherit.’

‘Why should I care?’ Luisa rubbed her hands up chilled arms, trying to restore warmth. ‘I don’t even know you.’

And what she did know she didn’t like.

He shrugged and unwillingly Luisa saw how the fluid movement drew attention to those powerful shoulders. The sort of shoulders that belonged on a surf lifesaver or an outback farmer, not a privileged aristocrat.

‘I’m the best person for the kingship. Some would say the only suitable one. I’ve trained a lifetime for it.’

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