Seduced by the Spare Heir. Andrea Laurence
she could answer him they started moving in time with the music. It had been a long time since she’d danced, but the movement came easily with his strong lead. She almost seemed to float across the wooden floors, the rhythm of the music pulsing through their bodies. The crowds and the cameras around them faded away as they moved as one.
Soon other couples joined them on the dance floor and she didn’t feel so exposed. The people around her made her feel better about the prying eyes, but being in Gabriel’s arms was still a precarious place to be. The way he held her, the way he looked at her... The next two weeks were going to be a challenge to her patience and her self-control. Gabriel wanted more from her than just a makeover, and when he held her, she felt the same way. She never should’ve accepted the job, and she knew that now.
This was no teenage girl or Spanish businessman she was dealing with here. Gabriel Montoro was a sexy, rebellious handful and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to get in way over her head.
“You’re late. Again.”
That wasn’t anything Gabriel didn’t already know. After the last few days he’d had, he wasn’t really in the mood to hear it. He’d signed himself up for this nightmare, but he was almost to the point where he’d pay Serafia more to leave him alone than to stay. He was used to the constant criticism of his family, but for whatever reason, Serafia’s critical comments grated on him. He just didn’t want a woman like her pointing out his faults. He wanted her nibbling on his ear. Unfortunately critiquing him was her job.
“Thanks for the information,” he snapped. “When I’m king, I will have you named the official court timekeeper.”
He expected her to respond with a smart comment, but instead she turned on her heel and walked across the room. She returned a moment later with a velvet-covered tray in her hands. Laid across it were four different styles of watches.
“One of these, actually, will be the official court timekeeper. I had them brought over from a local jeweler for you to choose the one you like.”
His cell phone chimed and he looked down at the screen to avoid the display of watches in front of him. It was a text from a woman he’d gone out with a few weeks ago: a brunette named Carla. He opted to ignore it. He’d been getting a lot of those texts lately and he couldn’t do anything about them now that he was on house arrest. What would he say, anyway? “Sorry, love, I’ve got to fly to a country you’ve never heard of and be king”?
Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he sighed when he realized the tray of watches was still there, waiting on him. Watches. Gabriel hated watches. He didn’t wear one, ever. And why did he need to with the clock on his cell phone? “I don’t need a watch.”
Her resolve didn’t waver. “You say that, and yet I’ve noticed punctuality seems to be a problem for you.”
Was she an image consultant or a drill sergeant? “It’s not a problem for me. I’m fine. It seems to be more of a problem for you.”
Serafia’s pink lips tightened as she seemed to fight a frown. “Please choose one.”
“I told you, I’m not going to wear a watch.” Gabriel couldn’t stand the feel of something on his wrists. He’d worn watches all through high school and college, but after his abduction, he gave them all away. Even the nicest watches reminded him of the restraints he’d worn for too long. In an instant, he was back in that cold, dark basement and he never ever wanted to go back to that place.
“There’s a Ferragamo, a Patek Philippe and two Rolexes. How can you turn your nose up at a Rolex?” Serafia reached down and plucked one off the tray. “Try this on. It’s steel and yellow gold, so it will coordinate nicely with whatever you might be wearing. The faceplate is surrounded by pave diamonds and there are diamonds on the hours. I think it will really look elegant—”
Gabriel didn’t move fast enough and before he knew what she had planned, he felt the cold steel of the metal at his wrist. His whole body tensed in an instant. On reflex, he hissed and jerked away from her. He was instantly transported back to Venezuela and the dark, claustrophobic room he was held in for almost a week. He could smell the mildew and filth, the air stale and thick with humidity.
“I said no!” he shouted without intending to. His eyes flew open, taking in the open, airy bedroom. He drew in a deep breath of air scented with hibiscus flowers and felt the tension fade from his shoulders. Looking at Serafia, he immediately regretted his reaction. There was fear as real as his own reflected in her dark eyes. “I’m sorry to yell,” he said, but it was too late. The damage was done.
She shied away from him, turning her back and carrying the hundred thousand dollars’ worth of watches back to the desk. She didn’t speak again until she returned, more composed. It was amazing how she always seemed so put together. He could rattle her for a moment, but she always seemed to snap right back. That was one skill he could use, but she hadn’t taught him that yet.
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him. “What was all that about?”
Gabriel didn’t like talking about his abduction. And his family had done a good job keeping the story out of the media. “I...I just don’t like to wear a watch. I don’t like the feel of anything around my wrists.” He didn’t want to elaborate. She already looked at him as if he was flawed. She had no idea how truly flawed he was. He was broken.
Serafia sighed, searching his face for answers he wasn’t going to give her. “Okay, fine. No watch.” She picked up her tablet and tapped through a few screens. “Your first public event in Alma will be a party hosted by Patrick Rowling. We need to get you fitted for your formal attire.”
Patrick Rowling. Gabriel had heard his father and brother talking about the man, but he hadn’t paid any attention. “Who is Patrick Rowling?”
“He’s one of the richest men in Alma. He’s British, actually, but when oil was discovered in Alma, his drilling company led the charge. He owns and operates almost all the oil platforms and refineries in the country. He’s a very powerful and influential man. This party will be your first introduction to Alman society. Forging a solid relationship with the Rowlings will help secure a strong foothold for the monarchy.”
Gabriel would be king, but somehow he got the feeling that he would be the one kissing Patrick’s ring and not the other way around. He was already dreading this party and he didn’t know anything about it.
“Now, this is a formal event, so custom dictates that you should wear ceremonial dress.”
Serafia swung open the door of the armoire and pulled out a navy military uniform that looked like something out of an old oil painting in a museum. It looked stiff and itchy and he had absolutely no interest in wearing it.
“All right, now,” he complained. “I’ve been a really good sport about most of this makeover stuff, but this is going too far.” Gabriel frowned at Serafia as she held up the ridiculous-looking suit. “I let you cut my hair, give me a facial, a manicure, a pedicure and all other kinds of cures. You’ve given half my wardrobe to charity and spent thousands of dollars of my own money on suits no man under sixty would want to wear. I’ve tried to keep my mouth shut and go with it. But that...that outfit is ridiculous.”
Serafia’s eyes grew wider the longer he complained. “It’s the ceremonial dress of the king!” she argued.
Of course it was. “It’s got ropes and tassels and a damn baby-blue sash. I’m going to look like Prince Charming at the ball.”
Serafia frowned. “That’s the point, Gabriel. You are going to be Su Majestad el Rey Don Gabriel I. That’s what kings wear.”
“Maybe in the 1940s when my great-grandfather was the king. It’s old-fashioned. Outdated.”
“It’s not for every day. It’s for events like coronations, weddings and formal events like this