Their Royal Wedding Bargain

She sucked in a deep breath. She was going to have to develop a new poker face and fast because this wasn’t information she could ever reveal to Rafe. Everything would instantly change if she did. He’d see her as some lovesick fool like the women in his past who couldn’t control their feelings for him. He might even withdraw from her like he had the day before, feel sorry for her, look at her with sympathy or, worse, worry that she would try to cling to him when it was time to end their marriage.

Right now she was his equal in and out of the bedroom. Right now they were having a good time, a wonderful time, but all she would have to do to ruin that would be to utter those three tiny little words and it would be gone. He’d probably send her home immediately, making up some excuse to avoid seeing her again. It would be awful.

And it was her fault. She’d become attached when she’d promised him that she wouldn’t. When she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t.

But she wasn’t a dreamer in need of a fairy tale ending. She was a strong woman in charge of her own destiny.

Destiny.

There was that word again. And the irony of how her destiny had yet again interfered with her love life wasn’t lost on her. Because even if Rafe did—by some miracle of the universe—have feelings for her it would never work out between them. While Stefano had wanted to marry her for who she was, Rafe didn’t want to be married to her for who she was. He had made it clear on multiple occasions that he had no wish to return to Santara. That he hated all things to do with duty and royalty, so it stood to reason that he’d never want to move to Berenia. And while she could abdicate and pass the crown onto her cousin, it wasn’t ideal because—

Abdicate?

Stumbling into a chair, Alexa threw her hands out to stop herself from falling when she was grabbed from behind and pulled up against a hard male body that sent tingles to her toes.

‘Whoa.’ Rafe reached for the half-empty champagne flute she’d nearly upended all over herself, grabbing it in time to prevent any of the pink contents from spilling. ‘Careful, Princess.’ He nuzzled her neck indulgently. ‘You have a habit of spilling brightly coloured drinks all over yourself. At least this time you’re not wearing white.’

Distracted by his lips against the tender skin of her neck, it took Alexa’s dazed brain a moment to realise what he’d said. When it sank in she spun around in the circle of his arms and stared up at him.

‘You?’ Her gaze collided with his sparkling blue eyes as her brain rearranged the events of her past into a new world order. ‘It was you. It was always you.’

Her heart lurched inside her chest and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the realisation that he had been the one to save her from embarrassment all those years ago, not his brother.

Her heart gripped tight inside her chest as she stared at his beautiful face. Him. It had always been him.

Destiny, whispered through her head again and she could have burst into tears on the spot. Because he wasn’t her destiny at all. He wasn’t her anything.

Bemused, Rafe cocked his head to the side as if he hadn’t heard her right. ‘Always me?’

‘Yes.’ How had she mistaken him for his brother all those years ago? How had she not known?

But then Rafe enjoyed playing the bad boy so much, how could she have ever thought that it would have been him? Who would have thought that the Rebel Prince would have possessed the empathy to prevent a young girl from embarrassing herself in front of a room full of dignitaries? But he’d always been that person deep down. It was why women fell over themselves to have a piece of him. Rafe was charming and debonair and handsome as the devil, but he possessed a deep sensitivity that eclipsed everything else. It was why his father’s continual rejection had hurt him so much that the only way he’d been able to survive it was to pretend that it didn’t hurt at all. It was why he reacted so strongly whenever he felt judged. He cared about those he loved, she realised, perhaps a little too much.

‘Stop monopolising your new bride, Rafe,’ Milena teased. ‘She needs to eat!’

Feeling raw and exposed, Alexa gratefully accepted the small plate of canapés Milena offered. She knew her stomach wouldn’t hold anything down, but at least nibbling at the food would give her enough time to develop an A-grade poker face.

Because she was going to need it to get through the rest of the night with her heart intact.

CHAPTER NINE

RAFE WATCHED ALEXA join his sister at the table, a slight frown pleating his brow. He would swear there was something up with her, but she wouldn’t catch his eye so that he could be sure.

He’d taken her away this week on the spur of the moment and he’d enjoyed himself more than he’d thought possible. Being a loner, he usually couldn’t wait to leave whoever he was with to get back to his own company, but that urge didn’t seem to arise with Alexa.

He knew he liked her more than was wise, but he didn’t seem to have any control over that. Looking at her, with her midnight-black hair catching the glints of the down lights and her perfect lips tilted into a smile, he wondered, not for the first time, at his total lack of control around this woman. Like asking her to stay an extra week because he didn’t want her to leave.

She’d burrowed under his skin and although he was still waiting for the novelty factor to wear off, it wasn’t happening. If anything, the more time he spent with her, the more he wanted to, which had never happened to him before.

Pleasure was pleasure but this... Being with her went beyond that and he’d be kidding himself if he tried to convince himself otherwise. He liked her both in and out of the bedroom. He liked her curiosity about the world, her dedication to her country, her loyalty to her people. He liked the way she teased him and challenged him and he loved that she shared his sense of adventure, and that she wanted to make the world a better place for everyone. Even him.

He’d been wrong to call her a doormat; she was far fro

m a doormat. She was loyal and honourable and dedicated. They were all qualities he admired and tried to adhere to himself. He just wished her dedication was focused his way, rather than Berenia.

But then, if it was, what would he do with it? It wasn’t as if he was looking for a permanent arrangement. They’d married with the express intention that it would end. She wanted it to end. And so did he.

Didn’t he?