Gambling with the Crown

“This is the strangest promotion I have ever heard of.” She drew in air, straightened her spine. “And it’s impossible, Your Highness. I cannot do what you ask.”

He felt the sting of her rejection as if it were a blow. It stunned him, if he was truthful with himself. Women did not typically refuse him.

“And why is that? This is a job, Emily. The same as always.”

“You will forgive me, Your Highness—”

“Kadir.” He spoke sharply, but he could not seem to help it. For once, he wanted her to call him by his name. For once, he needed to know that he was more to her than a paycheck. It was beyond insane, and yet he’d not felt quite right since he’d spoken with his father earlier.

It was as if everything he’d known had flipped upside down. As if his life had started out one way this morning—a lifetime ago now—and ended up in a completely different place. He was at the bottom of a pit, trying to find a handhold to pull himself back up again before the walls caved in and crushed him.

She swallowed. He didn’t think she would say it, but then she did. “Kadir.” Her voice was so small, so quiet, as if she feared that saying his name would call down a bolt of lightning.

“Was that so difficult then?”

Her eyes glinted in the dimly lit room. “No.”

“Good.” He retreated a few steps, gave her space. He sank onto her couch, ignoring the scattered papers. “Do I pay you well, Emily?”

She moved to one of the chairs set around a small table several feet away and sank down on it as if she feared she would break it. “Yes.”

“Then you can hardly object if I give you an extra year’s salary once you complete the task. All you need do is pretend to be my wife.”

Her eyes were wide. “Pretend? We wouldn’t actually be married?”

“We would, but it won’t be a real marriage. I don’t want you to think I expect anything other than the pretense of devotion.” Because they would need to appear ridiculously besotted with each other for this to work.

She looked doubtful. “Won’t someone figure it out?”

“How? We will act our parts.”

She shook her head. “No one will believe it. Just yesterday, you were with Lenore Bradford. You were probably photographed with her. And now you are marrying me—when, tonight? After you were with Lenore at her party last night?”

He felt the noose tightening around his neck. “I did not say it was a perfect plan. But we will sell it, Emily.” He twisted the stem of the wineglass in his fingers. “Besides, Kyr isn’t precisely connected to the outside world. Not in the way you would think. It is modern, certainly. But gossip and tabloids are hardly my father’s daily reading material. If I arrive with a wife, a wife who I am clearly crazy about, that will suffice for him.”

He could see her throat work. “You want to deceive your family?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

He sighed and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. She would never understand. And yet he had to make her do so if this were to work. It went against his nature to explain himself, but he had to acknowledge that she could just as easily turn him down if he did not. “It’s about the throne, Emily. I don’t want it.”

She blinked. “Why not?”

A riot of emotion twisted through him. He wanted to lash out. To tell her it was none of her business. And yet, if he was asking her to do this thing, it surely was her business. He could tell her the truth without delving into his personal reasons. His guilt. That was private.

“Because a king cannot travel the world and erect buildings. My business will be finished. And you will be out of a job.”

He didn’t like pointing it out so cruelly, but what choice did he have? Because that was, ultimately, what was at stake for her. If he became king, he couldn’t keep her in Kyr. He’d have an entire legion of assistants and she would not be needed. Even if he wanted her there.

There was a hierarchy in serving the royal family in Kyr, and Emily Bryant did not fit into it.

She put her forehead in her palm and slanted her gaze toward him. It was an unconsciously attractive look. A twinge of heat flared to life in his belly. He tamped it down ruthlessly. His life was upside-down, he reminded himself. He was not attracted to his very ordinary assistant. If he had been, he would never have hired her. Besides, if he hadn’t found her sexually appealing in four years thus far, he wasn’t going to start today.

In spite of the awareness that slid through him when she’d put her hand on his arm. In spite of the urge he’d had to bend his head and fit his mouth to hers, just to see if the sparks would continue or if it was simply the incongruity of her touching him so deliberately.

An anomaly. Stress.

“I don’t like the idea of deceiving your family. Besides, I’m a terrible actress. No one would ever believe I was your wife.”

Kadir allowed himself a smile. It was the kind of smile he knew usually had an effect on the women he turned it upon. “I have no doubt they will believe it. You’ve never yet failed at a task I’ve set for you. And you won’t fail at this one.” He leaned forward then, elbows on knees, and delivered what he hoped would be the coup de grâce. “You are the only person I can trust, Emily. The only one who will not fail me. I need you.”

* * *

Emily’s insides were spinning and churning as though she’d taken a ride on a merry-go-round. It didn’t help that Kadir looked at her so seriously. Or that he was specifically asking for her help. How could she refuse him?

And how could she go through with it? No one would ever believe that she—plain, ordinary Emily—was Kadir’s chosen bride. The whole world would see through the deception.

And she’d be mortified when they did. People would laugh and point fingers. She would be noticed, and not in a good way.

It was impossible.

Yet, he looked at her with those gorgeous dark eyes and serious expression and she wanted to do whatever he asked. She closed her eyes, swallowed. It was more than that, though.

One year’s salary.

With that kind of money, she could finish paying her father’s hospital bills and start to put money in the bank for his long-term care. He still lived in the house she’d grown up in, but it was an older house that always needed repairs of one type or another. He tried to do things himself, but it was too much for one frail man.

Anger scoured through her then. Her mother should have been there with him. Would have been there with him if she weren’t selfish and self-serving. If her focus on herself hadn’t led her down a self-destructive path and ended in a twist of steel on a dark highway.

When Emily’s father had needed his wife the most, when he’d gotten too sick to work and couldn’t keep buying her clothes and vacations and cars, she’d said she was too young to be someone’s caretaker. And then she’d run off with another man.

Emily experienced the same cold wash of helpless fury and despair she always did when she thought of her mother. Emily had been heading down the same path, in some ways. She’d loved flashy clothes, loved dressing up and being the center of attention. She’d spent hours at the salon, hours shopping with her girlfriends and hours discussing men. She’d had boyfriends, more than one at a time, because they lavished her with attention and gifts. And that had made her feel special.

But everything changed when her mother deserted them. Emily had realized what a self-destructive road she was traveling when there was no one left to take care of her father except for her. And now Kadir was handing her an opportunity to finally pay off her father’s bills, maybe move him to a retirement community in Florida. He’d always wanted to go to where it was warm. Maybe live in a golfing community and play a few rounds.

If she could do that, it would mean the world to him. And to her, because then she wouldn’t worry so much about him living in the windy, bitterly cold Chicago winters.

“How would this work?” Her voice sounded rusty, as if she hadn’t used it in ages and her vocal cords didn’t want to let the words go.

Kadir sighed and bowed his head for a brief moment. She wanted to tell him that she had not yet agreed, so he shouldn’t get all relieved and everything—but they both knew she was going to. It was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.

No matter how it terrified her.

“My attorneys will draw up the paperwork. We will sign it. That is all that is required in Kyr—a legal marriage document, with both signatures affixed. We can have a ceremony in Kyr, if you like, but the documents will suffice.”

She couldn’t imagine standing at an altar—or wherever one did these things in Kyr—and pledging everlasting love to this man. To her boss.