The Montoros Affair: The Princess and the Player / Maid for a Magnate / A Royal Temptation. Charlene Sands
smart. He’ll figure it out,” she said, but it came out sounding a little sullen. As smart and capable as Gabriel may be, he’d never been king before and besides, Alma hadn’t had a king in a long time, so her brother would be a bit of a trailblazer.
She owed it to Gabriel to give him a leg up.
“Have you given any thought to Will Rowling’s feelings, Isabella? You haven’t reached out to him in the three days since you’ve arrived. You could not have insulted him more if you tried.”
No, she hadn’t thought of that. She swore. Her father had a very small point. Miniscule. But a point nonetheless. How would she feel if Will had come to Miami to meet her and then didn’t call her, choosing instead to flirt outrageously with her best friend, Nicole, for example?
She’d hunt Will down and tell him to his face what a dog he was. So why should she get a pass to do whatever pleased her? It didn’t matter if her father had scared off James—this was about doing what she said she’d do.
“I’ll meet Will. Tomorrow, if he’s free,” Bella promised and turned her attention to eating. The faster the gazpacho disappeared, the faster she could as well.
It didn’t go down as well this time. Righteousness wasn’t as fun as it looked in the brochure.
* * *
Will Rowling took Bella’s call immediately, cleared his schedule for the next morning and agreed to take her on a tour of Alma. He’d been very pleasant on the phone, though his British accent sounded a bit too much like James’s for her liking.
When Will picked her up at 10:30 a.m. on the dot, she flung the door open and actually had a bad Captain Obvious moment when she realized Will looked like James, too. Duh. As common as fraternal twins were among the moneyed set of Miami, she’d never actually met a set of identical twins.
She studied him for a long second, taking in the remarkable resemblance, until he cleared his throat and she found a dose of manners somewhere in her consciousness. “I’m so sorry! Hello. You must be Will.”
“I don’t know if I must be, but I am Will,” he agreed.
Was that a joke? Trying not to be too obtrusive, she evaluated his expression but it was blank. With James, she never had to wonder. “I’m Bella, by the way.”
“I assumed so. I have your picture.”
Of course he did. And this was her house. Wasn’t this fun? “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, if you are.” With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he held out a hand toward his car, and waited until she left the house to follow her so he could help her into the passenger seat.
Will climbed into the driver’s seat and buckled his seat belt carefully before starting the car, which guilted Bella into fastening hers as well. Seat belts. In an itty-bitty place like Alma, where nothing happened.
She sighed and pasted on a bright smile. “Safety first.”
Usually she trotted that line out during a condom discussion. She almost cracked a joke along those lines, but something told her Will might not appreciate the parallel. Sinking down in her seat, she scouted for a topic of discussion. They were supposed to be seeing how they meshed, right?
Will must have had a similar thought process because he spoke first. “Thanks for arranging this, Bella. I’m chuffed to show you around Alma, but I’d like to know what you might be interested in seeing. Anything jump out at you? I’m at your command.”
Did he mean that in the double-entendre way? A provocative rejoinder sprang to her lips that she’d have let fly if she’d been in the car with James. Should she flirt with Will, the way she normally did on a date, or would that just lead to him taking her up on it, when she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to? Maybe she should just be herself, but what if Will hated her immediately? Would her father lay another guilt trip on her?
All of this second-guessing was making her nuts. She wasn’t with James, and everyone—including James—wanted her to make nice with the proper Rowling. Yeah, she’d looked up James last night, finding far more information about him than she’d expected, and little of it would fit the definition of the word proper.
No one, not even James, had thought it relevant to mention the man was a professional soccer—football in Europe, apparently—player. Since he appeared to have quite a bit of fame, maybe he’d assumed she already knew. Regardless, bad press followed James around like it did her. No wonder her father had nearly had a heart attack when she mentioned James’s name. He was the very opposite of the proper brother.
Proper pretty much covered Will’s personality. Five minutes in, and judging by the stiff set of Will’s shoulders, he wasn’t as much of a fun time as his brother. Hopefully, she’d judged wrong and would soon discover otherwise.
“Thanks,” she responded. “I’ve only seen the coast and a bit of Del Sol. Why don’t you pick, since this is your home?”
“No problem.” He shot her a small but pained smile, cluing her in that this whole set up might be as difficult for him as it was for her.
She should give him a break. “So, Will. How long have you lived in Alma?”
An innocuous enough subject, hopefully, and given the brothers’ accents, it was a safe bet they hadn’t been born here.
“Since I was seven. My father moved us here from England.”
“Oh, that must have been quite an adventure.”
She’d lived in Miami her whole life and living someplace new did have appeal for that reason alone. If only this arranged marriage business hadn’t soured the experience of coming to Alma, she’d be having a blast. And that was why she still didn’t think of it as her home... She still reserved the right to go back to Miami and play aunt instead of princess if the royal pressure grew too great.
Though with Tía Isabella’s arrival in Alma, going home held much less appeal.
Will’s face remained expressionless, but he tapped his pinky on the steering wheel in a staccato rhythm as he drove north out of Playa Del Onda along the coastal road that circled the main island.
“The move was difficult,” he said shortly and paused so long, she wasn’t sure he planned to continue. But then he said, “My mother had just died.”
“I’m sorry,” Bella murmured. “That would be difficult on young boys.”
All at once, she realized this was James’s history as well as Will’s. And now she was absurdly interested in learning more. The gorgeous deep blues of the bay unfurled as far as the eye could see on her right but she ignored the spectacular view in favor of watching Will.
“Thanks.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and double-checked the side mirrors before changing lanes. Will Rowling might very well be the most careful driver she’d ever met. “Look, let’s just get all of it out on the table, shall we?”
“Depends on what you mean by all and table,” she countered, a little puzzled by his abrupt change of subject.
Was this the part of the date where he expected her to air all her dirty laundry? She’d never had a long-term relationship, never wanted one, never thought about what went into establishing a foundation for one. Maybe they were supposed to spill deep, dark secrets right off the bat. She was so not on board with that.
“About the arranged marriage,” he clarified. “We should clear the air.”
“I’m not a lesbian looking for a fake husband and I don’t have a crazy uncle chained up in the closet, if that’s what you’re fishing for.”
He flashed a brief smile, the most genuine one yet, giving her a glimpse of what he might be like if he loosened up a little. “I wasn’t fishing. I meant, I wanted to tell you that marriage wasn’t