Seduced by the Spare Heir

“Too long!” Rafael exclaimed. “But now that some of us will be back in Alma, that will not be the case. Your father tells me he’s considering moving back if the monarchy is stable.”

“He told me that, as well.” Her dad had mentioned it, but the Espina family was a little gun-shy when it came to their home country. Their quick departure from Alma in the 1940s had been a messy one. There were rumors and accusations thrown at anyone who fled before Tantaberra rose to power, and her family was not immune. Serafia knew they would move slowly on that front and some might never return. Spain was all she had ever known and she had fallen in love with Barcelona. It would take a lot to lure her away from her hacienda with beachfront views of the Mediterranean.

Rafael clapped his son on the back. “Now that you’re here, I want to make a small speech, do a toast, and then maybe you can take a spin around the dance floor and encourage others to join you. The party is getting dull.”

Gabriel nodded and Juan Carlos went over to silence the band and bring Rafael the microphone. The music stopped as Rafael stepped onto the riser with the band and raised his hand to get the crowd’s attention. He had such a commanding presence; the whole room went deathly silent in a moment. He would’ve made a good king, too. Alma’s archaic succession laws needed to be changed.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Rafael began. “I want to thank all of you for coming here tonight. Our family has waited seventy years for a night like this, when we could finally see the monarchy restored to Alma. With it, we hope to see peace, prosperity and hope restored for the people of Alma, as well. I’m thrilled to be able to stand up here and join all of you in wishing my son and future king, Prince Gabriel, all the success in the world as he returns to our homeland.”

Several of the people in the crowd cheered and applauded Rafael’s statement. Gabriel stood stiff at Serafia’s side, his jaw tight and his muscles tense. He didn’t seem to be as excited as everyone else. After their discussion outside, she understood his hesitation. Still clinging to his arm, she squeezed it reassuringly and smiled at him.

“I ask everyone here to raise their glass to the future king of Alma, Gabriel the First! Long live the king!”

“Long live the king!” everyone shouted as they held up their glasses and took a sip. Serafia raised her glass as well, drinking the last of her wine.

“Now I would like to ask Gabriel to step out onto the dance floor and show us a few moves. Everyone, please, join us.”

“Looks like I have to ask a lady to join me on the dance floor.” Gabriel leaned in closer to her, a sly smile curling his full lips. “Have your doctors cleared you for vigorous physical activity?”

Serafia smiled at Gabriel and nodded. “Oh yes, I’ve got a clean bill of health. I could go all night on the dance floor if you can keep up with me.”

Gabriel took her hand and led her out into the center of the room. As the band started playing an upbeat salsa tune, his hand went to her waist and tugged her body tight against his. “Is that a challenge?” he asked.

The contact of his hard body against hers sent a shock wave through her system that she had little time to recover from. He was no longer the mop-topped little boy she remembered running up and down the beach with his kite. Now his green eyes glittered with attraction and a flash of danger. And he was dangerous. She might not have finished high school, but she read enough history to know that getting involved with a king never ended well.

Before 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.

Three (#u99a4e714-bfff-549a-a9cd-727c8897de2b)

“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 party at the Rowling Estate. The rest of the time you’ll wear normal clothes.”

“Normal clothes you picked out,” he noted. Not much better in his estimation.

Serafia sighed and returned the suit to the armoire. When she shut the door, she slumped against it in a posture of defeat. Closing her eyes, she pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “We leave for Alma in two days and we have so much to cover. At this rate, we’re never going to get it all done. You hired me, Gabriel. Why are you fighting me on every little thing?”

He didn’t think he was fighting her on everything. The watch issue was nonnegotiable, but they’d gotten that unpleasantness out of the way. The clothing was just a hard pill for him to swallow. “I’m not intentionally trying to make your job more difficult. It just seems to be a gift I have.”

Serafia rolled her eyes. “So it seems. Admittedly, you appear to enjoy getting me all spun up. I’ve seen you smile through my irritation.”