Prince of Scandal. Annie West
identity. All because of his ambition.
Luisa’s stomach heaved and she reached out blindly for the table, shaking her head to clear the nightmarish recollections.
‘I don’t want to be a princess.’
Silence. Slowly she turned. Prince Raul’s hooded eyes were wide, impatience obliterated by shock.
‘You can’t be serious,’ he said finally, his voice thickening with that appealing accent.
‘Believe me, I was never more so.’
Revulsion filled Luisa as she remembered her grandfather. He’d invited her to join him so he could groom her into the sort of princess he wanted. To do his bidding without question. To be the sort his daughter had failed to be.
At first Luisa had been blind to the fact he merely wanted a pawn to manipulate, not a granddaughter to love.
He’d shown his true colours when news arrived of her mother’s terminal illness. He’d refused Luisa’s tearful, desperate pleas to return. Instead he’d issued an ultimatum—that she break off all contact with her parents or give up her new life. As for Luisa’s begging that he fund further medical treatment, he’d snarled at her for wasting time on the woman who’d turned her back on his world.
That heartless betrayal, so blatant, so overwhelming, still sickened Luisa to the core.
That was who she was heir to! A cruel, ruthless tyrant. No wonder she’d vowed not to have anything to do with her bigoted, blue-blooded family.
She recalled her grandfather bellowing his displeasure at her ingratitude. At her inability to be what he wanted, play the part.
A hand on her arm tugged her from her thoughts. She looked up into a searing gaze. Black eyebrows tilted in a V and Raul’s nostrils flared as if scenting fear.
This close he was arresting. Her stomach plunged in free-fall as she stared back. Tingling sensation spread from his touch.
Luisa swallowed and his eyes followed the movement.
The intensity of his regard scared her. The beat of her blood was like thunder in her ears. She felt unprotected beneath a gaze that had lost its distance and now seemed to flare with unexpected heat.
‘What is it? What are you thinking?’ Gone was the smooth tone. His words were staccato sharp.
Luisa drew a shaky breath, disoriented by the arcing heat that snapped and shimmered in the air between them. By the hazy sense of familiarity she felt with this handsome stranger.
‘I’m thinking you should let me go.’
Immediately he stepped back, his hand dropping. ‘Forgive me. For a moment you looked faint.’
She nodded. She’d felt queasy. That explained her unsteadiness. It had nothing to do with his touch.
The electricity sparking between them was imaginary.
He thrust a hand through his immaculately combed hair as if, for an instant, he too felt that disturbing sensation. But then his dark locks fell back into perfect position and he was again cool, clear-eyed and commanding.
Swiftly Luisa turned to grab a glass. She gulped down cold water, hoping to restore a semblance of normality. She felt as if she’d been wrung inside out.
Finally she willed her scrambled thoughts into order. It didn’t help that she sensed Prince Raul’s gaze skewer her like an insect on a pin.
Setting her jaw, she turned.
He leaned against the dresser, arms folded and one ankle casually resting on the other. He looked unattainably sexy and a little scary. His brow was furrowed as if something perplexed him, but that only emphasised the strength of his features.
‘When you’ve had time to absorb the news, you’ll see going to Maritz is the sensible thing.’
‘Thank you, but I’ve already absorbed the news.’ Did he have any idea how patronising he sounded? Annoyance sizzled in her blood.
He didn’t move but his big body was no longer relaxed. His folded arms with their bunched muscles drew her eyes. Suddenly he looked predatory rather than suavely elegant.
Her skin prickled.
‘The money doesn’t tempt you?’ His mouth compressed. Obviously he thought money outweighed everything else.
Just like her grandfather and his cronies.
Luisa opened her mouth, then snapped it shut as her dazed brain cells finally revved into action.
Money!
In her shock that hadn’t even registered. She thought of the looming debts, repairs they’d postponed, Sam’s outdated milking machine and her own rattletrap car. The list was endless.
‘How much money?’ She wanted nothing of the high society position. But the cash.
The prince unfolded his arms and named a sum that made her head spin. She braced herself against the table.
‘When do I get it?’ Her voice was scratchy with shock.
Did she imagine a flash of satisfaction in those dark green eyes?
‘You’re princess whether you use the title or not. Nothing can alter that.’ He paused. ‘But there are conditions on inheriting your wealth. You must settle in Maritz and take up your royal obligations.’
Luisa’s shoulders slumped. What he suggested was impossible. She’d rejected that world for her own sanity. Accepting would be a betrayal of herself and all she held dear.
‘I can’t.’
‘Of course you can. I’ll make the arrangements.’
‘Don’t you listen?’ Luisa gripped the table so hard her bones ached. ‘I’m not going!’ Life in that cold, cruel society would kill her. ‘This is my home. My roots are here.’
He shook his head, straightening to stand tall and imposing. The room shrank and despite her anger she felt his formidable magnetism tug at her.
‘You have roots in Maritz too. What have you got here but hard work and poverty? In my country you’ll have a privileged life, mixing in the most elite circles.’
How he sounded like her snobbish grandfather.
‘I prefer the circles I mix in.’ Fire skirled in her belly at his condescension. ‘The people I love are here.’
He scowled. ‘A man?’ He took a step closer and, involuntarily, Luisa retreated a pace before the fierce light in his eyes.
‘No, my friends. And my father’s brother and his wife.’ Sam and Mary, almost a generation older than Luisa’s parents, had been like doting grandparents through her sunny childhood and the darkest days. She wouldn’t leave them, ageing and in debt, for a glamorous, empty life far away.
The sharp-eyed man before her didn’t look impressed.
Had her grandfather once looked like Prince Raul? Proud, determined, good-looking and boy, didn’t he know it!
Standing there, radiating impatience, Raul embodied everything she’d learned to despise.
Determination surged anew.
‘Thank you for coming to tell me in person.’ She drew herself up, level with his proud chin, and folded his papers with quick, precise movements. ‘But you’ll have to find someone else to inherit.’ She breathed deep. ‘I’ll see you out.’
Raul’s mouth tightened as the chopper lifted.
Thrilled! Luisa Hardwicke had been anything but. Just as well he’d told her only about her inheritance, not the more challenging aspects of her new role. She’d been so skittish it was wiser to break that news later.
He’d never