The Disgraced Princess (10 page)

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Authors: Robyn Donald

BOOK: The Disgraced Princess
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Gerd stirred and said thoughtfully, ‘I'm too big for this sort of thing.'

On an unwilling snort of laughter, she let herself be pulled up into his arms as he rose.

‘If you're planning to make a habit of this, perhaps you should buy larger sofas,' she murmured.

He knew, she realised. Those hawk eyes saw too much, understood her too well.

‘So, what is your decision?' His words were as uncompromising as his expression.

‘I thought you'd already made it for me,' she returned acidly.

He shrugged. ‘I hoped you'd see sense. But if not…' His gaze fell to her mouth, then moved to the soft mounds of her breasts. Amused yet relentless, he finished, ‘If not, you have given me the perfect weapons to use against you.'

‘Why are you pushing for this now—why not wait until after we know whether there is a baby or not?'

He said calmly, ‘Because you would always feel that it was the child who caused my decision, and that is
too great a burden for any child—and any marriage—to bear.'

If only he weren't so—honourable. And so right…

She said through her teeth, ‘Tell me one thing—why do you think I'd make you a suitable wife?'

His mouth curving in an ironic smile, he said, ‘I don't like the word suitable, but just this once I'll use your term. I know you, Rosemary. You're tough and vulnerable, straight for ward and outgoing and intelligent and compassionate, and you make love like a very sexy angel. I've seen you with Kelt and Hani's little boy, and I like what I've seen. And I know you want me. I think together we can make a satisfying life and bring up happy children.'

Rosie felt his frankness like a blow to the heart. He didn't love her, and he wasn't trying to pretend that he did.

She said quietly, ‘Thank you, but what makes you think that marrying you would be good for me?'

‘I wonder if any other man in this world has to undergo such a catechism when he asks a woman to marry him.' He went on with formidable assurance, ‘You will marry me, sweet girl. Because you want to. And because you know I want you to.'

And there, she thought wearily, he had her, because her love gripped her like a vice, locking her into a desperation so intense she could taste it.

With the heat of burning bridges on her back, she said starkly, ‘All right, I'll marry you, but on one condition—two, actually.'

His face was unreadable. ‘So—tell me these conditions.'

‘That you're faithful.' How would he take this? She angled her chin at him and met his steady dark gaze without flinching, determined to make him understand. ‘And that you'll always continue to be honest with me.'

‘Of course.' He held her eyes, his own keen and searching. ‘And I ask the same of you.'

‘Yes,' she said simply.

Because too many emotions were roiling inside her, threatening to erupt in wildly humiliating disarray, she looked down at the clothes scattered on the floor and started to laugh.

A disconcerting note too close to hysteria alarmed her into abrupt silence. ‘We'd better get dressed,' she managed to say, relieved when her voice sounded normal.

A distant clatter made her gasp and fling herself off the sofa, sheer terror clutching at her as she hauled on her clothes, gabbling, ‘That must be—but it's too soon—it's not—'

‘Calm down,' he said quietly. And when she went white, he held her shoulders and said, ‘Don't look so horrified. Whatever happens now, I will be with you and beside you.'

Half an hour later she came out of her bathroom, to find him standing inside her bedroom door, his face expressionless.

‘I'm not pregnant. The test kit showed a negative,' she said tonelessly, ‘so we don't need to—'

‘Stop right there,' Gerd said between his teeth. ‘You made me a promise.'

‘But there's no need to go on with it now,' she cried, hiding her misery with a show of anger.

‘It's too late,' he said. ‘I've already contacted my Press
secretary, and he's alerted the media for an announcement later today. I've drafted one out, but I need you to verify a few facts.'

Rosie stared at him incredulously, fighting back rage and a horrible feeling of helplessness. ‘Why have you done this?'

‘Because I suspected that if you weren't presented with a fait accompli you'd waste a considerable amount of time trying to persuade me to change my mind.'

His look should have put her in her place, but she was too angry to be subdued by any intimidating and utterly infuriating air of authority.

Hands clenching at her sides, she fought for words, finally coming up with an inane, ‘You had no
right
to go ahead.'

‘You agreed to marry me,' he said dispassionately. ‘Naturally I warned my secretary, as it will be his job to deal with the media.'

‘But—so soon…' Her voice trailed away, because of course she knew why he'd done it—to stop any further restlessness amongst his people.

From now on her life would be dedicated to Carathia, its welfare paramount. Rosie realised that secretly she'd hoped—oh, for a miracle, for Gerd to put her first.

It wasn't going to happen.

His voice cool, he asked, ‘Why should we delay? By now probably everyone in Carathia knows you are here with me, so it is better that they realise who you are and why you are here.'

She could think of nothing to say that. After a few seconds she said, ‘I'd better ring my mother, I suppose.'

‘I have just rung her,' he said smoothly. ‘Kelt and Hani
also, and of course Alex. None of them seemed surprised. They all send their love and best wishes. Your mother will arrive in two days' time.' He waited for a couple of beats, then added too blandly, ‘On her own.'

Thank heaven for that. Rosie asked, ‘Is she coming here?'

For some reason she didn't want her mother in this lovely place where for such a short time she'd been so happy.

‘We'll meet her in the capital.' He gave her a keen, too-perceptive glance and said, ‘You haven't had lunch, Rosemary, and Maria is cross with us for not letting her know ahead of time so that she could prepare something special.'

She put aside her shocking, unexpected grief when she'd gazed at the pregnancy indicator and realised she wasn't carrying Gerd's baby. ‘We'd better go and eat whatever she has prepared. But in future you should remember that I don't like surprises.'

His brows drew together. ‘Then I shall endeavour not to present you with any more. Come now, and as there is no child you can drink some of the champagne I've chosen.'

Although Maria might have been cross, not a sign of it showed. Beaming at them both, she launched into a stream of rapid Carathian, pausing only long enough for Gerd to trans late, ‘She is wishing us a long and happy life with many brave, handsome sons and beautiful daughters.'

Rosie pulled herself together to smile, to assume what she hoped was the happy air of a newly betrothed woman. ‘Thank her, and tell her I'm not so sure about
many
sons,
but if the ones we have are as brave and handsome as you I'll be content.'

And was surprised to see a tinge of colour along his arrogant cheekbones as he relayed this to the housekeeper, who laughed and bustled away, still chuck ling. He pulled out a chair for her, and waited until she sat down.

‘I didn't expect you to go ahead and announce everything without talking to me about it,' she said quietly.

He sat down, the sunlight sifting through the flowers to give his black hair a dark ruby sheen. The warm light played over his classic Mediterranean features, their beauty reinforced by uncompromising strength. Eyes so close to gold shouldn't be cold, but Gerd's were right then.

Rosie's heart clamped painfully.
What had she done?

Too late now to ask herself that question. She'd made a decision and now she had plenty of time—all her life—to repent it.

Or make the most of it…

A note of exasperation coloured his voice. ‘I am sorry if the speed of the announcement bothers you. Perhaps I should have offered you time to become accustomed to the idea of marrying me, but I thought you understood that we might not have that luxury.'

Well, she'd left herself open to that. Biting her lip, Rosie nodded. He
had
made it plain. And she had agreed.

It was time to stop behaving like someone who wanted to be loved. If she kept this up he might suspect that she was longing—
aching
—for his love, and pride was all she had now.

‘I did.' Her voice trembled a little, and she had to take a breath to steady it before she could go on. ‘I didn't realise that a day or so would make any difference.'

‘It might not have,' he admitted, pouring two glasses of champagne.

He'd seen her in so many ways—ex qui site in her ball-dress, elegant in the softly pastel silk suit she'd worn to his coronation, casual in shorts and a suntop on the yacht.

Naked in his arms…

Every muscle in his body contracted in swift, violent desire. She only had to look at him to rouse that unsparing hunger.

But today she seemed…subdued, her glow dimmed, her face shadowed as though she'd lost some essential part of herself.

He said, ‘I should have told you what I was planning to do. I'm sorry.'

Why had he not? He wasn't prepared to ask himself that question, nor to explore exactly why he felt uneasy. He had no difficulty in reading the moods of most people, but Rosemary was different; although she seemed bright and open on the surface, it was hard to know exactly what was going on behind that sunny face.

And that was all the apology she was likely to get, Rosie decided wryly as she accepted the glass and put it down on the table. Gerd had been born an autocrat, and his upbringing and position had simply grafted more formidable layers onto a nature already dominant and decisive.

He reached out a hand, palm uppermost. ‘Am I forgiven?'

She put hers into it, watching as it was swallowed up in his tanned fingers. ‘Marriage is—or should be—a partnership, even if by marrying you I automatically become your subject. And partners discuss things with each other.'

‘I stand corrected.' He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. Little rills of sensation ran up her arm, and her breath came shortly through her lips.

When he released her he said levelly, ‘My private secretary will be arriving in a couple of hours. We'll be discussing how to organise the wedding, so of course you will sit in on the session.'

Rosie's heart dropped. His words made the future seem suddenly much closer. However, she'd been the one who wanted to know things. ‘How long will it take for the wedding to be organised?'

‘About a year,' he said casually. ‘But first there will have to be an official betrothal ceremony. That will be a family occasion in the palace chapel, but it will mark the official start of our life together.'

An opinion that was echoed by the private secretary, a thin, middle-aged man who greeted her with a smile and a shrewd, although respectful survey. He'd probably expected someone six inches taller and elegant, she thought gloomily, someone whose family tree was clotted with titles.

The private secretary went on in his careful English, ‘That will give us time to organise it in a suitable manner, and it will also give you, Ms Matthews, time to become known to the people of Carathia, to learn the language and become accustomed to us.' He smiled benignly
at her. ‘It will be a busy year for you, so it will travel fast.'

Clearly he thought she was panting to marry Gerd.

When the interview was over and the secretary had gone to another room to draft the final announcement, Gerd said, ‘We need to make quite a few decisions before your mother arrives.'

‘Like what?' she asked warily.

His smile lacked humour. ‘Like a date.'

Faced so brutally with the impact of her agreement, she said, ‘It won't really matter to me. I don't organise my diary a year ahead, and as far as I know Mother doesn't either.'

He nodded. ‘Then there is the question of where you will live for this next year. I suggest that you move into Kelt's house in the capital. He has already agreed, but of course the decision must be yours. I will supply you with a household.'

Colour drained from her face. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a breath before opening them again. ‘Gerd, this is not going to work. A
household
? I wouldn't know what to do with a household except the house work.'

‘Calm down,' he advised. ‘What has happened to that backbone of yours? I've always admired your courage and your resilience.'

Rosie flicked him a mutinous glance. ‘Anyone can be courageous and resilient when it's not a matter of their entire future.'

But the compliment warmed her heart sufficiently for her to listen when he said calmly, ‘I refuse to believe that the bold, gallant girl I know was just a sham. And this is
not negotiable. This morning you made me a promise; I accepted your word and acted on it.'

If he said this once more she'd—she'd
bite
him! She must have been mad and she certainly wasn't going to tell him that this morning, still fogged with sex, she'd have promised him
anything
.

When she said nothing he went on, ‘So it is decided. You'll need a social secretary who knows court etiquette. I have someone in mind for that, but the ultimate decision must be yours.'

‘How hard is Carathian to learn?'

‘It's difficult,' he admitted, ‘but not impossible. You'll have lessons, and of course you'll hear it spoken all the time; you'll probably be surprised at how quickly you absorb it.'

‘I can deal with learning the language,' she said trenchantly. ‘But why did you feel obliged to force the issue? Do you need a wife—
any
wife—that much? And if you do, why on earth—when there must be a hundred or so women out there, much better equipped to deal with the sort of life you lead—did you pick on me?'

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