His Majesty's Temporary Bride

‘I need to clear something up.’

‘Yes?’ She squared her shoulders, her chin tipping as if waiting for a blow.

‘About the marriage proposal.’

She blinked, her pupils widening as if they might engulf her eyes.

Alex hesitated. Could she really have invested so much in the idea of a match between them? She struck him as down-to-earth, not the sort of female who’d languish waiting for her advisers to arrange a dynastic match.

But how well did he know her beyond the sexual attraction saturating the air between them?

‘The marriage proposal?’ Again that quick swipe of her bottom lip. Alex’s belly curled in on itself, heat quickening.

‘I know your advisers thought a match between us was desirable. I know you thought so too or it would never have been raised with my staff.’

Her features froze into blankness and he paused. He didn’t want to make it sound like he was rejecting her. Far from it. It was the idea of marriage he wasn’t ready for.

‘There are advantages.’ He paused and hated his hesitation. ‘But the truth is I’m not interested in marriage. Not yet.’

She said nothing. Her expression was unreadable. Only the flickering pulse at her throat and the rise and fall of her breasts under the thin cotton proved she hadn’t frozen in place.

Because she was insulted? Disappointed? Despite his scrutiny he could read nothing in her body language.