The King's Convenient Bride / The Illegitimate Prince's Baby. Michelle Celmer
Pryce said you don’t like to hunt in bad weather.”
The weather on the opposite end of the island where the hunting cabin was located had been much like it was here. Idyllic. Clear skies and temperatures ten degrees above the usual for late September. And though the company had been equally adequate—he looked forward to trips with his cousin, when he could relax and just be Phillip—this time he’d felt restless and bored.
“Stop acting like an ass and go home to your fiancée,” Charles had urged after having his head all but snapped off for the umpteenth time in two days.
Indignant at first, Phillip was now glad that he’d listened. Best he enjoy the novelty of this relationship while it lasted.
And just for fun, he planned to test the values to which she clung so firmly.
“If you prefer,” he said, “I could go back.”
“N-no, of course not, I just…” She noticed his wry grin, and flashed a somewhat shy smile of her own. “You’re teasing me.”
He nodded.
“I’m glad you’re home.”
Oddly enough, so was he.
He gestured to the work she’d abandoned on the blanket. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”
“Not at all. I had some spare time and thought I would catch up on my reading. And take advantage of the mild weather.”
“They’re keeping you busy?”
“Swamped. It seems as though I’ve had more meetings in the past three days than in the last two years. And I’ve met so many new people, their faces and names all blur together. Every time I get a free minute or two, I try to study the profiles.”
“I was thinking, since it is such a beautiful day, that you might like to take a walk around the grounds with me.”
“I would love to, but…” She glanced from him, to the palace, then to the delicate gold watch on her left wrist.
“Is there a problem?”
“I have a meeting with the decorator in fifteen minutes, then the wedding coordinator after that.”
“Not anymore.”
She blinked with confusion. “Pardon?”
“I told Miss Pryce to clear your schedule for the rest of the afternoon.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “You’re free for the remainder of the day.”
“Is that okay?” she asked. But before he could answer, she held up a hand and said, “I know, you’re the king. You make the rules.”
He smiled and held out his hand, found himself eager to touch her again. “Shall we?”
She hesitated, probably remembering her no-fooling-around-until-after-the-wedding rule. But he had no intention of waiting until their wedding night to take her to his bed.
And he would seduce her so cleverly, she would believe it had been her idea in the first place.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
She shook her head, gazing at his hand as though it were a poisonous creature poised to attack.
“Surely you don’t find holding hands with your fiancé inappropriate.”
“Not exactly.”
“Do I frighten you, then?”
“Not in the way you might think. It’s more a matter of trust.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust me. Women have desires, too, Your Highness.”
Her candor both surprised and impressed him, and told him that, despite her resolve, she was as good as him. He’d yet to find a woman able to resist his charms. He doubted that Hannah would be any different.
She finally slipped her hand in his, and he could swear he felt her shiver.
This was going to be too easy.
Five
Though Phillip’s leaving had been a blip in her carefully laid plans, the instant his hand slipped around her own, the second his fingers threaded loosely through hers, as far as Hannah was concerned, things were back on track.
Dressed in slacks, a plain white button-down shirt and a caramel cashmere sport coat, he looked casual, but carried himself with an air of supremacy that was almost intoxicating. A woman could feed endlessly off the energy he exuded.
They took a long, leisurely stroll through the gardens and, for the first time since she’d arrived, she felt as though she could finally relax. She had begun to feel as though she were being pulled in ten directions at once. Then Phillip appeared, snapped his fingers and made it all go away. Somehow she knew deep down that, no matter what, he would take care of her.
They walked across the pristinely maintained lawn—she’d seen golf courses that didn’t look this good—in the general direction of the woods bordering the estate.
“Did you have a successful trip?” she asked.
“You mean, did I kill anything?” he replied, and she nodded. “Not this time.”
“What’s in season here this time of year? No, wait, let me guess. You’re king, so you make the rules. You can kill whatever you want, whenever you want.”
He grinned and she felt an honest-to-goodness flutter in her heart. She would call his smile beautiful, had he not been so utterly male.
“I have to follow the laws of the land like everyone else,” he said. “Right now we’re hunting small game and birds.”
“Could I go with you sometime?”
“Hunting?”
She nodded, and he looked genuinely surprised.
“My father and I went every year up until his death.” A knot of emotion rose up and clogged her throat, the way it always did when she talked about him. Losing him so unnecessarily had left a laceration on her heart that, a year later, was still raw and bleeding.
Everyone kept telling her that it would get easier, but the truth was, each day it seemed to hurt a little bit more. For her anyway. Her mother, it would seem, had little trouble moving on.
“You were close with your father,” Phillip said. A statement more than a question.
She nodded, and he gave her hand a squeeze. It was a simple gesture, but it meant everything to her. “He was my hero.”
“It was a car accident?”
“His car was hit by a drunk driver. He was killed instantly. Of course, the other driver walked away with barely a scratch. The worst part was that it wasn’t the first time. He had three prior convictions for DUI and was driving on a revoked license.”
“The laws here are much tougher on repeat offenders than in the U.S.”
“It’s tough enough losing someone you love, but for it to be so…senseless. It’s just not fair.”
“No, it isn’t,” he agreed.
She realized that recently losing a parent was one thing they had in common. “Reports of your mother’s death said she was sick, but they never really specified what she died of.”
“She had cancer of the liver.”
“It must have been quick.”
“She was given six months when she was diagnosed. She only lived three.”
“There was nothing they could do?”
He shook his head. “It was too far advanced.”