The Royal and the Rebel (Royally Pitched 2)

Rowan was both impressed and annoyed. Which was his constant state whenever he was around Juliana Altamirano. As he watched her, he thought about the absurdity of his situation and his ridiculous plan. There was no way this could work. She was a spoiled child, and everyone knew Rowan preferred mature women.

Yes, Juliana’s age was definitely a strike against her. He’d never even dated anyone younger than himself. His first real girlfriend had been five years his senior, and he had never looked back.

Juliana’s position was a second strike because of his well-known derision for the aristocracy. He’d been vocal when Tristan started seeing Princess Eleanor. This little stunt would deem him a hypocrite. Not that Tristan would ever give him shit about it, but there would be detractors. People who would call him out on his sudden change of heart.

Then, there was their history. Their kiss had lit up the airwaves for months, mostly his fault for his reaction to it and his continued denouncement of her in the months that followed. Strike bloody three.

What the hell had he been thinking, revealing himself to her?

Juliana walked to the sofa and sat, back ramrod straight, ankles crossed. A stance obviously taught at princess school.

“You went through some trouble to get me here. What do you want to ask?”

He shifted in his seat and winced as the pain radiated up his leg. He knew he should just get it over with, but he couldn’t quite spit it out. “Why are you involved in this folly?” he asked instead.

“What did you mean earlier when you said, ‘especially now’?”

This could go on all night—neither of them willing to give away their position. Reluctantly impressed with her composure, he thought about his situation and the alternatives to his cockamamie scheme. There were none. He’d examined it from all directions. He could not get sucked into this shit orchestrated by his father, and he had to get out of here. He couldn’t do that without Juliana’s help. For some reason, he was more comfortable exposing himself to her than to his mates.

“The queen must be concerned about all of this talk of Navan independence.”

Juliana raised a brow, but she didn’t object.

“I would guess you are either here to promote an alliance between the palace and the most powerful Navan politician. Or you’re here to get a pulse on the depth of the cry for independence.”

He could tell she didn’t want to give anything away, but she was intrigued by his supposition. She looked away from him, and he waited. He’d divulged his greatest secret to her, and he was hoping for a little tit-for-tat. He’d almost given up on her response when she turned her gaze back to him and nodded. She was way more composed than he’d thought. She gave him a little but wouldn’t tell him the greater motivation. He could work with that.

He wanted to get up and walk around. His inability to move, to use his presence to persuade, frustrated him. It was funny how you noticed what you relied on when it was taken away from you.

“I’m sure I don’t need to explain our family history to you.”

She nodded. Of course, he didn’t.

“What you probably don’t know, since you didn’t know about me, is that most of my father’s titles go to me even though I am his bastard.”

Juliana raised a brow.

“Yes, it’s not normal. Most titles go to the legitimate heir. At some time in my ancestors’ illustrious history, there must have been a father who loved his bastard son and wanted to make sure he was well taken care of. The thing is, I want nothing to do with any of this. I’ve spent my whole adult life running from the legacy that keeps following me.” He took a breath. This was where everything went sideways. “If Frederik marries before me, the titles will go to him. Seems simple right?”

Juliana nodded, but he could tell she didn’t know where this was going. Who would?

“Wait,” Juliana said. “All of the titles?”

Damn, she was quick.

“No.” He needed to just say it. “I am at my father’s mercy right now. They had me transported here when I wasn’t in any place to fight them. I cannot spend the next two weeks involved in the craziness they have planned.”

Juliana looked at his leg. “Surely, they don’t plan on having you move around.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what they have planned. But what I do know is, I need a layer of protection. If they think I’m with you, they’ll leave me alone.”

“Think you’re with me?”

“Yes. I want you to pretend to be my fiancée. And when the time is right, get me out of here.”

Juliana stared at him. Incredulous. Then, she started to laugh. Loudly and uncontrollably. “There is no way,” she said between guffaws, “that anyone would”—she sputtered, trying to catch her breath—“believe that.” She looked at him, his scowl intensifying and she sobered.

“I have some ideas about that.”

“Rowan,” she said and then cleared her throat. “I understand how you could feel helpless right now.”

Even though it was true, he bristled.

“But I don’t see how we could pull off something like this. Or what you would gain from it.”

“We can say we that we’ve been seeing each other since the gala, but we’ve kept it under wraps. And that I was so critical because I was trying to throw everyone off the scent.”

Juliana leaned forward, dropping her elbows on her knees and looking very un-princess-like. He could tell she was digesting the idea. A “relationship” with Juliana would buy Rowan time. And as he watched her turn it over in her mind, he appreciated her contemplation. He knew she was trying to figure out if they could really do this. But he also realized he needed to give her something in return.

“And I can help you. Being with me will allow you to build an alliance with the Barrington family and take the pulse of the move for independence. It can be win-win for both of us.”