Weight of the Crown (19 page)

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Authors: Christina Hollis

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‘A love match, of course. So that’s what I’m going to give them.’

He sounded as cool and resolute as he had on the day when he had abandoned her in Rosara. For good or bad, his mind was made up about something. Alyssa had to know his decision and who was involved, but she hesitated. Did she really want to know the name of her rival? It would be an unendurable pain, but surely it would be better to hear it from him, rather than at second hand.

‘Who with?’

‘You, of course.’

From the moment Lysander had walked into her suite she had matched him verbally, blow for blow. Now his words silenced her completely. He had befriended her, helped her—and then inflicted a wound so deep she knew she would never recover. Only the furious memory of the way he had bundled her out of Rosara had got her this far. Now a growing anger at her own idiocy kept her staring straight at him. She had always known he would never marry her. If he was offering her a taste of what might have been, she would have to refuse. She couldn’t agree to be his mistress, kept as first reserve until next year’s model dazzled him into dropping her. That was what he was offering, surely. She wasn’t worth anything more—all her experiences showed that. She had to drive him away, quickly, before she succumbed.

‘Check your schedule, Your Majesty. You’re already pencilled in to marry Princess Peronelle at the Kahani chapel, in six weeks’ time.’ She spat the words straight into his face, but he didn’t blink.

‘Then hand me an eraser. I want you.’

‘Yes, but everybody knows you need a suitable wife.’

‘I don’t care what “everybody knows”, and I don’t want a wife, suitable or otherwise. I want a partner—someone who knows my mind. An intelligent, independent, thinking woman I can work with.’

His stare was as hard and resolute as his words. They confronted each other until the tension began to have a very strange effect on Alyssa. In her imagination she saw his eyelids flicker. His jaw relaxed, and the thin compressed line of his lips softened with the movement. He spoke, and that was when Alyssa knew she must be dreaming.

‘I want
you
,’ he repeated, and this time there could be no doubt about it. ‘That’s what I told everyone at the press conference. That’s why Ra’id heard me talking about a queen. You’re the only one I want at my side, Alyssa.’

They stared at each other, each determined not to give in. Alyssa blinked first, and it gave Lysander the break he had been waiting for. He added something, but had to turn away to say it. His voice was so faint Alyssa could barely hear, but the movement of his beautiful mouth gave him away.

There were only two words she could fit to those faint sounds, and they were so unlikely the idea kickstarted her own voice.


What
did you just say?’ she breathed. He slowly turned around and seized her hands in his, his eyes blazing into hers with dark emotion.

‘Marry me.’

Lysander’s voice was uncompromising. It was an
order, not a request, but in his eyes there was a flicker of something that took her breath away. Surely not, but it looked as if he was … nervous? Alyssa felt dizzy, as though the ground had suddenly been turned upside down.

‘Lysander! But … I can’t …’ Half a dozen reasons dug their spiteful claws into her, but they were all variations on the same theme. ‘You rule Rosara. I’m a nanny.’

‘Do you think I care about that?’

‘You should.’ Alyssa took a deep breath, hardly able to believe what was happening. ‘I want to marry you more than anything else in the world. But you know what my problem is. I want children, and a family—all the things you’ve spent your life avoiding. I want to keep working. And how could I go on doing that, when I’m married to you? Without my job, without caring, I’m nothing.’

Lysander’s grip became gentler.

‘You could never be a woman defined only by the work she does, Alyssa. Don’t you think I’ve thought about that? Care for me. For Ra’id and, in time, for our own children. You’ll be the perfect, dedicated mother, and that’s one of the reasons I love you.’

He coloured slightly and his reply momentarily shocked Alyssa into speechlessness. She had never imagined Lysander using a four-letter word like love. Now his country was safe, it seemed it wasn’t only his lifestyle that was changing.

‘I never knew you could blush, Lysander!’

He passed one hand over his face, then looked down at her as resolutely as ever. ‘It isn’t something I intend
doing a second time. And I’m not likely to repeat what I’ve just said, either.’

Alyssa felt a smile start to spread across her face. He was searching her face, his expression earnest. ‘I want you to work
with
me, not simply
for
me. Children are our future, Alyssa, whichever way you look at it. Ra’id needs a settled, loving home life. I want him to live with us, as our son. In your spare time—if he gives you any—Rosara needs someone who understands that the care our children get decides our country’s future. You can be their champion.’

He paused, but it was Alyssa who had to take a breath. The look in his eyes had softened to melting chocolate.

‘I need a woman by my side I can rely on—one who can help me achieve all I want to do. So this time I’m not so much presenting you with a job, as asking you to work with me. For life.’ His eyes blazed with a certainty Alyssa couldn’t face. She had to look away.

‘You know I’ll never be a Princess Peronelle, don’t you? With me, what you see is what you get,’ she said quietly.

Relief flooded his face, and he smiled for the first time. ‘I know. That’s why we’ll be happy together. You’ll carry on being the independent woman who always tells me what she thinks and only laughs at my jokes if they’re funny, and that’s exactly what I want—and need. So … what’s your answer going to be? Could you take us on? Me and my world?’

Alyssa looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think.

‘Hmm. Well, knowing you, if I don’t accept we’ll be here all night arguing … so I suppose I’ll have to
say—yes!’ She laughed up at him, loving the way his eyes had lit up with joy. ‘Of course, you’ll have to dismantle the rumour machine and survive telling Princess Peronelle the fixture’s scratched, first.’

‘I don’t intend telling anybody anything, for a very long time.’ Catching her hand, he pulled it to his lips and kissed each of her fingertips in turn. ‘Unless it’s you, Alyssa.’

His eyes were full of the slow-burning passion she knew so well, but tonight it was misted with deep emotion. Slipping her arms around his waist, she laid her head against his chest.

‘So you’ll be disappointing all those supermodels as well as the princess, then?’

‘I’d rather satisfy you.’ He laughed. And then he did—perfectly.

* * * * *

All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

All Rights Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises II BV/S.à.r.l. The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

® and TM are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

First published in Great Britain 2011
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of Harlequin (UK) Limited,
Eton House, 18-24 Paradise Road, Richmond, Surrey TW9 1SR

© Christina Hollis 2011

ISBN 978-1-408-92617-8

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