Scandals Of The Royals: Princess From the Shadows

“My father said …”

“I’m sure there are descendants of Santina bastards all over Europe. It’s the nature of things.”

She gritted her teeth, her eyes suddenly bright with rage. “My son is not a bastard.”

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Pick your words a bit more carefully then.”

She had teeth. And claws. Neither of which he’d seen in the interaction with her father. However, when it came to the boy, she was fierce. Good. It would make her a good mother for his heir. Protective. Strong. Something that had certainly been lacking in his life.

She would be a good queen too. While he found her a bit plain, it would suit her position. She had that regal quality to her. He preferred a sex-on-legs quality when it came to his bed partners, but a wife needed something else entirely. And Carlotta had that something else.

He hadn’t fully appreciated it until that moment.

“Noted, princesa.”

“Anyway,” she said, looking back down at her empty plate. “That’s why I’ve been in Italy. It’s simpler there. I came back for the engagement party. A chance to see someone else mess up.”

“You think your brother is making a mistake?”

“In my father’s eyes he is. It’s petty. But … I don’t like being the bad one.”

“I’ve never minded bad girls.” He watched her eyes round with shock, and he also saw a spark of interest flash in those green depths. Perhaps his bride-to-be wasn’t quite as plain as he had imagined.

Maybe there was more beneath that prim and proper exterior.

It was certainly a fascinating thought. One that caused a flash fire of arousal to roar through his blood. Six months without sex. Dios, that was a long time. The longest he’d gone since he was sixteen and he’d found out that life came with some very lush and interesting perks.

Women were just another of the many reasons he didn’t mourn the loss of his childhood. Giving women pleasure, taking his pleasure with them, had provided him with moments of total release. Oblivion. He had always treasured those moments.

“No, you haven’t, according to your tabloid reputation,” she said. “Which reminds me, and I’m sorry to bring it up just before dinner, do you have a clean bill of health? I mean, have you had a recent physical? Because from what I’ve read, you’ve been around.”

“Not wrong of you to bring it up,” he said, ignoring the unfamiliar prickle of shame. “Being safe is important. And I always am. And it so happens, I have a doctor’s report for you.”

“I … That’s more than I expected.”

“It’s reality. I’ve never denied living a certain lifestyle, but I’m careful, and I make sure to protect my lovers. As I will make sure to protect you.”

Carlotta felt her body getting hot again. She felt the need to remind herself that she’d done the swept-off-her-feet-and-into-bed-with-a-stranger thing before. And while it had been a glowing, heady few weeks, it had been a cold and stark reality when she’d woken up to the truth about the man she’d given her virginity to. The man who’d left her pregnant and alone.

Well, whether he’d left or not, she would have kicked him to the curb once she learned the truth. He’d just saved her the trouble. And the truth had kept her from tracking him down.

A little sliver of flame wound its way through her body as she studied Rodriguez. She took a deep breath, hoping that might help extinguish it. That she would be able to maintain control over herself.

It was proving to be more difficult than it should.

“And how will you be certain of your health if you’re … if you’re taking other lovers?” She swallowed. “Don’t make a fool of me. If you sleep around, I want to know. Don’t ever lie to me.”

She supposed in a way, she would deserve a cheating husband. Poetic justice in many ways. She would be the one at home with the children, wondering how her husband’s business trip was going while he was really wining, dining and bedding another woman.

She nearly gagged.

“Just don’t lie,” she said again. That was the part she couldn’t stand. The lies. Being manipulated into believing a man was someone he wasn’t. Falling in love with the facade.

He looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable. “You want to know about the other women?”

“I will not be treated like I’m stupid.” Even if she was. Even if she had been terminally stupid in the man department at one time. She never would be again.

“I will give you my honesty. What you choose to do with it is up to you, but I will never lie to you. If you want the truth, you can have it.”

It would probably be easier to just take her charming husband into her bed when he was home, and ignore him when he wasn’t. But she wouldn’t live that way. She wouldn’t be that woman.

“I do.”

“I will have the same, princesa.”

“Of course. And fidelity while we are trying to conceive is non-negotiable. You are not having me and a harem at the same time.”

“You are not quite what I expected.” He leaned back in his chair and appraised her, his gaze open, honest as he said he’d be. He didn’t bother disguising the fact that he was assessing her. Didn’t bother to hide it when his eyes dropped to her breasts.

And she couldn’t suppress the mild bit of satisfaction she took in him checking her out.

“Well, of course I’m not,” she said, trying to ignore the little of prickle of heat that was starting at her scalp and migrating down. “You were expecting to marry my sister. We’re not even remotely similar. She’s shorter for one thing.”

“And quieter, if I remember right. Though I don’t know that I ever engaged her in conversation.”

“You’re hardly marrying for the conversation though, are you?”

“You’re more engaging than I imagined you to be, it might actually have just moved up on my list of desirable qualities in a wife.”

“Good thing, because you appear to be stuck with me.”

“And you like making … conversation?”

“I’m a little bit out of practice making any kind of conversation that doesn’t involve the physical ailments of stuffed animals, or require me to refer to myself as Mama.”

She noticed a little bit of tension in his brow, the lines of his handsome face tightening. For all his carefree manner, there was more to Rodriguez than he showed the world. Although she wasn’t sure if it was better than what he did show.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat and tapping the dinner plate with her fork. “Are we … eating?”

As if on cue a man came in carrying a tray with two plates on it, which he set on top of the fine china in front of Rodriguez and in front of her.

“Paella del mar,” he said. “I hope you like shellfish.”

“It would be sacrilege if I didn’t. Santina is a part of the sea. It’s the life force of the country.”

“As it is here in Santa Christobel. That, at least, should be similar to your home.”