The Prince She Had to Marry (7 page)

“I know,” Alex said grimly. “I...I have no excuse, Mother. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Not thinking clearly
. Oh, please. Lili felt wonderfully vindicated and self-righteous at that moment.

And then Adrienne turned to her. “And you, Lili. Did you really think it was wise to zip off to South Sudan without your groom barely five days after the big announcement that you and Alex had eloped, and that you were only too thrilled that at last you could reveal your love for the world to see?”

Her face flamed. “Er. Well, I...”

Adrienne reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Never mind.” She sent her son a patient glance. “We do have a solution. I want both of you to give me your word that you will work together to make the world see how madly in love you really are with each other.”

Madly in love
. Lili held back a snort. Adrienne said it so easily, as though it were true.

Alex said, “Yes. Whatever I have to do, I’m willing.” He sounded even more grim than usual. As though he expected to be asked to cut off an arm or go barefoot into a dark cave filled with poisonous snakes. It wasn’t the least flattering.

But then, Alex had never been the kind to flatter a woman—especially not Lili.

Adrienne turned those huge, almond-shaped dark eyes on her. “And you, Lili?”

Lili sat up straight. “Yes, I understand. Whatever the plan is, I’ll give it my all.”

Chapter Five

“A
honeymoon,” Alex’s mother announced. Alex and Lili were to have a honeymoon.

Alex hadn’t exactly been prepared for that.

They were to spend three weeks floating around the Mediterranean on one of the family yachts, the
Princess Royale
. The two of them were to do nothing but be together. Constantly. They would be expected to indulge in endless and unabashed public displays of affection, which would of course be photographed by intrepid paparazzi circling overhead in helicopters, zipping around on other boats and trailing in their wake at every port of call. They were to sleep in the same room, the
Princess Royale
’s largest stateroom in which there was only one berth.

For three weeks, he and Lili were to be inseparable.

Alex hated the idea. It was an enormous waste of precious time, time he should have been spending with his men. The CCU needed him. And he needed them. They were his purpose, the one goal left to him after the rest of his life went to dust. If he did nothing else, he could see to it that his country had a properly trained secret service ready to protect the members of the princely family and extract Montedoran citizens from any situation, no matter how dire or isolated, where they might be held against their will.

As to this problem in his marriage, yes, he knew he was in the wrong. He had gone too far. In his need to keep Lili at bay, he’d said things he shouldn’t have. He’d told her outright that he had no intention of keeping his word to her. He never should have done that.

He should have been more agreeable. More...subtle. But affability and tact had never been his strong suits. At the very least, he should have kept their innocent unborn child in mind, should have protected his family from the ugly attention of the tabloids by making an effort with his new wife.

But it was hard to keep a purpose in mind when he was around Lili. Since that fateful morning in April when he’d taken her virginity, he found that she totally scrambled his circuits. She...roused him. In a sexual way. She made him weak. Somewhere deep within himself, he wanted to give in to her. She constituted a distraction from his purpose, and a surprisingly powerful one at that.

He couldn’t afford distractions, so he had hurt her and insulted her. And it had worked. She had left him alone.

Which had brought them here, to his mother’s office, to the disgusting ridiculousness of those scandal sheet stories and this upcoming crash course in extreme damage control.

His mother said firmly, “Our people did not see your wedding. They
will
see you happy on your honeymoon. For the sake of your child, for the sake of this country—and of Alagonia—a long, luxurious honeymoon must take place, a honeymoon where the two of you will prove to the world that you married for one reason and one reason only: love.”

* * *

The next morning after breakfast, they departed on their honeymoon cruise. Alex and Lili boarded the
Princess Royale
side by side, holding hands. He was very much aware that they were being watched and photographed. The paparazzi were thick on the ground.

Her hand felt small and cool in his. He thought about touching more than her hand. He thought how it was his
duty
to be close to her, to reassure his people and hers that they were truly together and deeply in love.

She turned to him as they walked up the gangway, and she flashed him a bright smile, which he returned. He noted that her beautiful mouth quivered a little at the corners. She was wearing large sunglasses, the lenses very dark. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he knew that those blue, blue depths would be still. Distant. Without warmth. Her long hair, thick and rich as spun gold, caught the sun.

They stood at the bow and waved. The people on the dock, a lot of them actually, waved back and applauded and called out their good wishes for a happy, memorable trip.

From Montedoro’s deepwater port of Salacia, taking their sweet time about it, they would sail east to Italy and then down along the Italian coast. They would stop to explore Sicily. And then around and up to Venice. From there it was back down to Ravenna and then southeast to some of the more beautiful islands off Croatia. Eventually, they would turn west, stopping again in Sicily and from there heading northwest to Barcelona, going ashore at several small ports and picturesque islands along the way, and also spending a couple of days with Leo in Alagonia at D’Alagon. And then, at last, they could return home.

So far, Lili had hardly spoken to him. He’d been expecting her to try to talk to him, to blame and reproach him, after they finished up the painful meeting in his mother’s office. But she’d only walked unspeaking beside him, the heels of her dainty shoes clicking angrily against the inlaid tiles of the palace corridors. That was truly eerie: to spend several minutes in Lili’s company and not have her utter a single word.

When they reached their quarters, she disappeared into the master bedroom. He’d hardly seen her since.

But now they were here, aboard the
Princess Royale
. They were going to be sharing a stateroom, for pity’s sake. They had to come to some sort of understanding.

From the dock, the people kept on cheering.

Lili waved and smiled. She wore skinny, white cotton trousers, platform sandals and a butter-yellow shirt and she was so beautiful that it hurt him to look at her. But he didn’t look away.

He had a job to do. And now was as good a time as any to begin. He touched her shoulder.

She turned her head his way, remembering, at the last second, to smile. Her flesh beneath the fine-textured yellow shirt was warm, giving, infinitely tender. A slight wind was blowing and her scent tempted him.

He took her other shoulder. She stiffened but kept her smile in place. He turned her toward him.

She came, but with resistance, as the people onshore cheered even louder. “What?” Her voice was cool, but she didn’t stop smiling.

“You look beautiful today.” He spoke the flattering words easily. After all, they were only the truth.

“Why thank you, Alex.” The smile didn’t waver, but he could see that she spoke through clenched teeth. “Aren’t you the
romantic
one?”

The crowd clapped harder as he touched her hair. She didn’t flinch, but the corners of that damnable too-tempting mouth quivered just a little. “Your hair is like silk.”

She smiled even wider. “Silk?” she whispered. “Come now, Alex. You can do better than that.”

“Satin? Velvet? Candyfloss?”

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter what word you use. I know you don’t mean a thing you say.”

“Don’t sulk, Lili. You agreed to this.”

“I am not sulking,” she insisted. Sulkily.

“Good, then.” He curled a finger under her defiant little chin and tipped her face up to him. He could see his own distorted reflection in the lenses of her dark glasses. “Keep smiling...”

She made her smile so wide it was almost a grimace.

He leaned closer.

A muscle in her jaw twitched almost imperceptibly, but she didn’t try to pull away. So he kissed her.

When his mouth touched hers, there were whistles and catcalls from the crowd onshore. He hardly heard them. He breathed in her tiny, resigned little sigh and tried not to wish that things could be different.

As always, she tasted infinitely sweet. She tasted of hope, although he had none. Of all the joy he would never know.

“I think that will do for now,” she murmured against his lips. Her mouth was so soft under his.

He didn’t want to let her go. Lifting his head, he slanted it the other way. “We have to give the paparazzi their chance to get a good shot...”

“Hah...” But she went on kissing him. She even slid those slim arms up over his chest and wrapped them around his neck.

Onshore, they were still clapping and shouting and whistling. People called out encouragements. He heard all that, but only faintly due to the hungry roaring of his blood as it raced through his veins.

She pulled away. He wanted to follow, to capture her mouth again and kiss her some more. But he didn’t. Something about the warning tilt of her chin held him at bay. Plus, any photographer worth his salt had to have gotten the shot by now.

“Turn around,” she instructed, her smile tender and dreamy, her voice laced with steel. “Wave to your people. As soon as we’re out of the harbor, we can go below and...be ourselves.”

* * *

The master stateroom had onyx counters in the bathroom and sink fixtures shaped like gold swans. The bedroom had a bed almost as big as the one he used to sleep in at the Prince’s Palace until he married Lili and surrendered that bed to her. There was a wet bar and a small seating area of two chairs and a table. The thick carpet underfoot was gold threaded through with bronze.

Alex took one of the chairs and watched his wife as she prowled the room, looking into drawers, disappearing into the long, deep dressing room and then into the bathroom. When she finally perched on the edge of the bed, she tossed her dark glasses on the gold-accented bronze bedspread and aimed a cool, assessing look in his direction.

He said, “Don’t worry. I can sleep on the floor.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples. Now she’d taken off the sunglasses, he saw the dark smudges beneath her eyes.

He sat forward. “You look tired. Are you ill?”

Her slim shoulders were drooping. “Tired, yes. A little.”

Should he be concerned? “You didn’t eat a lot at breakfast....”

“I’m all right, Alex.”

“The baby—”

“—is fine.” She regarded him steadily. “I hate this, that’s all. It’s just one big lie after another.”

How could he argue with that? She was right. “Do you want me to go?”

She shook her head. “We’re supposed to be inseparable, remember?”

He rose. “I’ll move to another stateroom. I won’t go on deck.”

“No, you need to stay here. Counting servants and crew and your men from the CCU together, there are thirty other people aboard the
Princess
. We have to convince them all that we’re deeply in love—or one of them is bound to betray us.”

His men would never betray them, but she knew that. He said, “So cynical, Lili? It’s not like you.”

“I’ve had a good teacher since I married you.”

He took a Montedoran orange from the basket of fruit on the table, put it to his mouth, felt the smooth skin against his lips, smelled the tart citrus scent. “Just because I leave our berth doesn’t mean I’m not completely in your thrall.”

“In my thrall.” She laughed. It was not a happy sound. “That’s a good one.”

Reasonably, he pursued his point. “I could be leaving you alone because you’re tired, because I’m a doting husband who cares for his wife’s well-being.”

“Not after the show we just put on out there. They all think we came down here to...do what honeymooners do. If you go now, it will look as though we had a falling-out. Or we were faking it.”

He peeled the orange, revealing the red fruit within.

She said with a sad little smile, “I always loved Montedorans. The best blood orange in the world. Once, when I was little, I ate ten of them in one sitting.”

He split the sections in the middle, offered her half. She took it and ate it, section by section. He made short work of his half. “Another?”

She blew out a weary breath. “No, not now.”

He suggested, “Lie down, why don’t you? Have a nap.”

She folded her hands in her lap. Her lower lip quivered.

“What?” he demanded. He had that sinking feeling, that trapped, guilty feeling. “Lily. Please. Don’t cry.”

There were a large number of bronze and gold pillows tossed artfully at the head of the wide bed. She grabbed one and fired it at him. He deflected it neatly as she fired another. “Of course I won’t cry, you big, bloody...ass. Why in heaven’s name would I cry over you?” More pillows came at him.

He batted them away. “Lili, get hold of yourself.”

She fired more pillows. “You lied to me, Alex. I hate that you lied.”

He knocked two more pillows aside. “Lili, stop.”

Miraculously, she did stop throwing pillows. But the accusations kept coming. “You lied and you tricked me.”

He picked up the pillows and tossed them back toward the head of the bed. “Haven’t we been through this?”

“Yes, we have, if being ‘through’ it means you agree that you lied and you tricked me—and as far as you’re concerned, that’s perfectly acceptable.”

He dropped to the chair again. “How many ways can I tell you? The marriage needed to happen. You were going to dig in your heels and blather on endlessly about love and relationships and communication and
feelings
and...God knows what all.”

“See?” She pointed a shaking hand. “That. That is exactly what I am talking about. You think I
blather
.”

“Well, Lili, you do.”

She made a series of sputtering noises and then threw up both hands. “You don’t respect me. You never did. Never—and I don’t have any idea why I’m even talking to you. I might as well be talking to the wall.”

He realized he really needed to get ahead of her fury at him, somehow. So he went for the painful truth. “I was wrong, all right? I was completely in the wrong.”

She sat very still. And then she swallowed and spoke in a small voice. “Would you say that again, please?”

Twice wasn’t enough? Apparently not. He forged ahead. “I was wrong. I should never have lied to you.
That
was wrong. I had no right to make an agreement I didn’t intend to keep.”
Even if I
needed
to do it to get you to marry me
.

“You were wrong,” she said again, slowly and much too deliberately.

“Yes, I believe I said that. More than twice.”

“But still, in your heart, you feel that you
had
to do it.”

“I
didn’t
say that,” he hedged.

“No, but you were thinking it. I know you were. I know
you,
Alex. I know you all too well.”

That news hit him rather hard, because she happened to be right that he
was
thinking it. And if she was right about that, was she right that she knew him?