Wedding Party Collection: Marrying The Prince: The Prince She Never Knew / His Bride for the Taking / A Queen for the Taking?

He shrugged one bare, powerful shoulder. ‘That’s not all that surprising, considering.’

She glanced back at the fire, tucking her now-warmed feet underneath the hem of her robe. ‘Considering what?’

‘Considering we’ve been living separate lives ever since we announced this sham of an engagement.’

Alyse swallowed. ‘I know that.’ Neither of them had been in a rush to get married. Leo certainly hadn’t, and Alyse had already accepted a place at Durham University. Her parents hadn’t wanted her to give it up for marriage at eighteen, and neither had she, although she suspected Queen Sophia could have bullied her into it.

She’d been so young then, so naïve and overwhelmed. She liked to think she’d changed, that she’d grown up, at least a bit. She hoped she had, but right now she felt as gauche as ever.

At any rate, a long engagement had fed the media frenzy, accomplishing the monarchy’s purposes of keeping them in positive press for over half a decade. For the last six years she’d been living in England, completing her BA and then her MA in European history—a subject the monarchy had considered acceptable for its future queen, since it could be relevant to her rule. Alyse just loved history.

She’d wanted to have some kind of normalcy in her life, some kind of separation from Leo and the feelings he stirred up in her; from the bizarre intensity of life in the media spotlight and under the monarchy’s critical eye.

University had thankfully given her a degree of that normalcy she’d craved. Out of respect, and perhaps even love for her, the paparazzi hadn’t followed her too closely.

She’d had a somewhat usual university experience—or as usual as it could be, considering the jaunts to royal functions every few weeks, her carefully choreographed appearances with Leo and the constant curiosity and speculation of the other students and even some of the tutors and lecturers.

Remembering it all now brought a sudden lump to her throat. No matter how normal her life had seemed on the surface, she’d still felt the loneliness of being different from the other students. Of knowing the paltry truth of her relationship with Leo.

It was a knowledge that had sometimes led to despair, and that had once led to a foolish choice and a heartache and shame that even now could bring her to a cringing blush.

She pushed the memory away. It had no place here and now, on her wedding night.

‘But we’re not going to live separate lives now,’ she said and Leo inclined his head in brief acknowledgement.

‘I suppose we need to decide how we want to conduct our marriage, now that we’ll be under the same roof.’ He paused to take a long swallow of whisky, and Alyse watched the movement of the corded muscles of his throat, felt a spasm of helpless longing. ‘I don’t see any real reason to change things too much,’ he continued. Her longing left her in a rush.

She felt the way you did when you thought there was one more step in a staircase, the jolt going right through her bones to her soul. Had she actually thought things would change that much now they were married? That Leo would? It would mean more pretending, not less. Yet how could they pretend that much?

‘Things will have to change a bit, I imagine,’ she said, trying to speak lightly. ‘I mean...we’re married. It’s different.’

‘Assuredly, but it doesn’t mean we have to be different, does it?’ He glanced at her, eyebrows raised, cool smile in place. ‘The last six years have worked out quite well, don’t you think?’

No. No, no, no. Yet how could she disagree with him when she’d been acting like she’d agreed with him all along? Alyse swallowed. ‘I suppose, but now we have a chance to actually get to know each other...’ She trailed off uncertainly, wanting him to leap in and agree. When would she learn? He wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t that kind of man.

Leo frowned, then turned back to the fire. ‘We’ve always had that chance,’ he answered after a moment. ‘We just chose not to take it.’

‘I suppose,’ Alyse managed. She tried not to let his words hurt her; he didn’t mean to be cruel; he simply had no idea of how she felt, never had. This wasn’t his fault, it was hers, for agreeing to pretend for so long. For never having been honest with him about how she really felt.

‘It might get a bit tedious,’ she ventured. ‘Pretending for so long. We’ll have to appear together more often, I mean.’

‘Oh, the media will get tired of us eventually,’ Leo said dismissively. He gave her a quick, cool smile, his eyes hard and glinting. ‘Especially once the next generation comes along.’

The next generation. Their children. Alyse felt her heart start to thud.

He put his glass down, raking both hands through his hair so Alyse’s gaze was drawn to the ripple of muscles in his arms and chest, the sculpted beauty of his body. Desire twisted and writhed inside her like some desperate, untamed creature seeking its freedom.

Leo dropped his hands and gave her a measured look. ‘I know tonight is bound to be awkward, at least at first.’ He nodded towards the huge bed looming behind them. ‘I think if we acknowledge that up front, it might be easier.’

Alyse’s mouth felt like sandpaper as she stared at him. ‘Yes, probably it will be.’ She tried for a light tone, or at least as matter-of-fact as his. She wasn’t sure she managed either. ‘Much better to be upfront and honest with each other from the start.’ She forced a smile, knowing her words for lies. ‘We pretend enough as it is.’

‘Exactly.’ Leo nodded in approval. ‘It’s one thing to pretend to the press, but I hope we can always be honest with each other.’

She nodded back mechanically. ‘That...would be good.’

‘Don’t look so terrified,’ Leo said dryly. He nodded once more towards the bed. ‘I hope we can find a little pleasure there at least.’

A little pleasure? His words stung. ‘I’m not terrified,’ she told him crisply. ‘It’s just— It’s a bit awkward, like you said; that’s all.’

‘Naturally. I’ll do my best to alleviate that awkwardness, of course.’

She heard a thread of amusement in his voice, saw it in his cool smile, and knew that being made love to by Leo wouldn’t be awkward at all. It would be wonderful.

Except it wouldn’t be making love. It would be cold, emotionless sex. A physical act, a soulless transaction. ‘A little pleasure’, indeed. She closed her eyes, hating the thought. Hating the fact that she had to pretend, would always have to pretend, not just with the press but with him. It would be so, so much harder now. Why hadn’t she realised that?

‘Alyse,’ Leo said, and she opened her eyes. He was leaning forward, his eyes narrowed in concern. ‘If you’d rather, we can wait. We don’t have to consummate our marriage tonight.’

‘A reprieve?’ she said, her voice sounding cynical even to her own ears.

‘It might be more pleasant when we’re not so tired and there are fewer expectations on us,’ Leo answered with a shrug. ‘And frankly, no matter what you’ve said, you do look terrified.’

Yes, she was, but not in the way he thought. She wasn’t afraid of sex. She was afraid of it being meaningless for Leo. Did he want her at all? Was this a bore for him, a chore?

‘I promise you, I’m not afraid,’ she said when she trusted herself to speak as neutrally as he had. ‘But I am tired, so perhaps this...aspect of our marriage can wait a little while.’

Leo shrugged, as if he didn’t care either way, and that hurt too. ‘Of course. But we should both sleep in the bed. Staff see everything, and even palace employees have been known to gossip.’

She nodded, trying not to imagine lying next to Leo, his nearly bare body so close to hers. It was a big bed, after all. And she needed to learn how to manage this kind of situation. They would, after all, be sleeping in the same bed for the next...

Except, no; perhaps they wouldn’t. Perhaps they would have separate bedrooms along with separate lives, coming together only for the cameras or to create an heir.

‘That’s fine,’ she said. ‘I’ll just put some...’ She trailed off, because the only clothes in the room were her ballgown and the negligee. She didn’t like either option.

Leo glanced at the lace confection spread out on the bed. ‘It’s a big bed,’ he said dryly. ‘And I think I can control myself, even if you wear that bit of nonsense.’

Alyse swallowed, nodded. Even tried to smile, though every careless word he spoke felt like a dagger thrust to her heart. She didn’t want him to be able to control himself. She’d always known him to be cool, pragmatic, even ruthless. Yet she wanted him to be different with her, and she was honest enough to recognise that some stupid, schoolgirl part of her had secretly hoped things might change when they were finally alone.

‘Fine,’ she said and, rising from the chair, she went to the bed and swept the negligee from it before disappearing into the bathroom once more.

Leo stretched out on one side of the bed and waited for Alyse to emerge from the bathroom. He felt the conversation hadn’t gone as well as he would have liked. Alyse had seemed brittle, almost as if he’d hurt her feelings, a possibility which exasperated him. He’d thought she was as pragmatic as he was about their union, yet this new, unexpected awkwardness clearly unnerved her—as well as him.

When had he started caring about her feelings, whether she felt nervous, awkward or afraid? The whole point of this marriage, this pretence, was that he didn’t have to care. He didn’t have to engage emotions he’d purposely kept dormant for so long.

And while he might be weary of pretending—he’d done enough of it in his life, God only knew—at least this marriage, this pretence, had been his choice. His decision.

He still remembered the negotiation they’d gone through after that wretched photograph had gone viral. His father had asked to see them privately.

Alyse had flown to Maldinia a few weeks after her birthday party; her mother had accompanied her. And, when she’d walked into his father’s private study alone, Leo had been jolted by how young and vulnerable she looked, dressed simply in a plain skirt and schoolgirl’s blouse, her dark hair held back in a ponytail.