Prince of Scandal

‘Why?’ Her voice was a hoarse rasp.

He paced closer, looming between her and the light from the window. ‘On the day you sign the documents accepting your inheritance, I’ll make a gift of them. You can rip them into confetti.’

Relief poured through her veins so suddenly she shook.

He was so obstinate! He still didn’t accept her rejection. No doubt he thought it embarrassing that the heir to a royal title was neck-deep in debt.

It was a generous gesture. One she’d compensate him for if she found a way to access the funds.

‘But I’m not going. I’m staying here.’

‘You won’t.’

Had anyone ever denied him what he wanted?

Impatient energy radiated off him. And that chin—she’d never seen a more determined face.

Luisa stood. She needed to assert herself and end this nonsense. It was time he accepted she knew her mind. ‘I’ve got no plans to leave.’

He held her gaze as the seconds stretched out. His expression didn’t change but a frisson of anxiety skipped up her back, like a spider dancing on her vertebrae.

‘Knowing how committed you are to the well-being of your family and friends, I’m sure you’ll change your mind.’ His voice held steel beneath the deep velvet inflection. ‘Unless you want them to lose everything.’

He spoke so matter-of-factly it took a moment to register the threat.

Luisa’s face froze and a gasp caught inside as her throat closed convulsively.

Blackmail?

She opened her mouth but no sound emerged. Paper cascaded to the floor from her trembling hands.

‘You … can’t be serious!’

Slowly he shook his head. ‘Never more so, Luisa.’

‘Don’t call me that!’ The way he said her name, with the same lilting accent her mother had used, was like a travesty of a familiar endearment.

‘Princess Luisa, then.’

She took a furious step forward, her hands clenching in frustration. ‘This has to be a joke.’ But no humour showed on his stern features. ‘You can’t foreclose! You’d destroy the livelihood of a dozen families.’ And her father’s dream. What she had worked for most of her life.

After she’d returned home to nurse her mother, Luisa had never found time to go back and finish school. Instead she’d stayed on to help her father, who’d never fully recovered from the loss of his wife.

‘The decision is yours. You can save them, if they mean as much as you claim.’

He meant it! The grim determination in his granite-set jaw was nothing to the resolution in his glittering eyes.

‘But … why?’ Luisa shook her head, trying to find sense in a world turned topsy-turvy. ‘You can find another heir, someone who’d be thrilled to live the life you’re offering.’ Someone happy to give up her soul for the riches he promised. ‘I’m not princess material!’

The gleam in his eyes suggested he agreed.

‘There is no one else, Luisa. You are the princess.’

‘You can’t dictate my future!’ Luisa planted her hands on her hips, letting defiance mask her sudden fear. ‘Why are you getting so personally involved?’

When her grandfather had made contact it had been through emissaries. He hadn’t come to her. Yet Raul as crown prince was far more important than her grandfather.

He took her hand before she could snatch it away. Heat engulfed her, radiating from his touch and searing her skin even as his intentions chilled her marrow.

‘I have a stake in your future,’ he murmured.

Automatically she jerked up her chin. ‘Really?’ The word emerged defiantly.

‘A very personal stake.’ His grip firmed, all except for his thumb, which stroked gently across her palm, sending little judders of awareness through her. ‘Not only are you the Ardissian heiress, you’re destined to be Queen of Maritz.’ He paused, eyes locking with hers.

‘That’s why I’m here. To take you back as my bride.’

CHAPTER THREE

LUISA watched his firm lips shape the word ‘bride’. Her head reeled.

There was no laughter in his eyes. No wildness hinting at insanity. Just a steady certainty that locked the protest in her mouth.

Her lungs cramped from lack of oxygen as her breath escaped in a whoosh. She lurched forward, dragging in air. He grasped her hand tight and reached for her shoulder as if to support her.

Violently she wrenched away, breaking his grip and retreating to stand, panting, beside the window.

‘Don’t touch me!’

His eyes narrowed to slits of green fire and she sensed that behind his calm exterior lurked a man of volatile passions.

‘Explain. Now!’ she said when she’d caught her breath.

‘Perhaps you’d better sit.’

So he could tower over her? No, thank you! ‘I prefer to stand.’ Even if her legs felt like unset jelly.

‘As you wish.’ Why did it sound like he granted her a special favour in her own house?

He had royal condescension down to an art form.

‘You were going to explain why you need to marry.’ For the life of her, Luisa couldn’t say ‘marry me’.

His look told her he didn’t miss the omission.

‘To ascend the throne I must be married.’ At her stare he continued. ‘It’s an old law, aimed to ensure an unbroken royal lineage.’

A tremor scudded through her at the idea of ‘ensuring the royal lineage’. With him.