Her.
That stirring grew until his whole body thrummed with a carnal demand he couldn’t deny.
What was wrong with him?
His youngest advisor cleared his throat. ‘If Your Highness prefers, we can pursue this as a short-term union . Only until the economic situation in the kingdom stabilises.’ He tapped a few keys on his tablet.
Reyes drummed his fingers on the table as he waited.
Finally, the advisor looked up. ‘And I think Miss Nichols may be right. She’s suitably placed to help.’
‘She hasn’t brought up any new solutions to Santo Sierra’s problems that we haven’t already considered.’
‘No, but she could be the right person to broker a temporary marriage for you.’
‘Excuse me?’
Reyes’s eyes narrowed at her outraged tone.
His advisor glanced at her, then back at his tablet. ‘According to the information I have here, you brokered the marriage between a US senator and his mistress once you arranged a discreet divorce from his wife of thirty years.’
Jasmine’s mouth dropped open. ‘That’s supposed to be confidential.’
A douse of cold water cooled Reyes’s raging temperature. ‘Seems there’s no end to your dubious talent,’ he murmured.
Her face flushed. ‘I wasn’t responsible for him leaving his wife, nor was I responsible for finding the mistress, if that’s what you’re implying. I only assisted with the financial arrangements and ensured each party walked away happy.’
Her gaze swung to the men at the end of the table. How was it possible that one look from her commanded their silence? Reyes watched, intrigued, as she crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes for emphasis.
‘That’s not what you’re asking me to do, surely? For what you need for Re...His Highness, you require an elite professional matchmaker. That’s not what I specialise in. When I said I’d help I meant with the economic issues facing the kingdom.’
‘This is an issue facing the kingdom. And one that has to be addressed sooner rather than later. With Isabella’s marriage off the table, we need to give the people something to sustain their faith,’ Alvarez said.
Pressure built at Reyes’s temple. He wanted to deny what his council were saying. But deep down he couldn’t dismiss that his people needed a healthy dose of bolstering news. Reyes had dashed their hopes of a royal wedding once before, five years ago, when he’d thrown Anaïs out of his life.
With his mother’s subsequent death four years ago behind the wheel of her lover’s car, and his father’s illness soon afterwards, the only good news the Santo Sierran people had been given was the signing of the treaty and Isabella’s wedding.
Both had failed to materialise. In the meantime, Mendez was pushing his greedy fingers into Santo Sierran affairs. It needed to end.
But marriage...
The only template he’d witnessed had been one mired in deception, misery and acrimony. It wasn’t something he wanted to reproduce. If he was to take this road, it needed to be permanent. With both sides clear in their role and with no room for misunderstanding.
He looked down the table. Clenching his jaw, he nodded. ‘The marriage will be a permanent one, not a short-term try-it-and-see-what-happens. My life isn’t a scripted reality show to peddle to the people.’
Costanzo beamed with pleasure. ‘Of course, Your Highness. That’s a very wise decision. We’ll set the ball rolling straight away—’
Reyes held up his hand. ‘No, we’ll reconvene in three days.’
The smile turned into a frown. ‘But, Your Highness—’
‘Arrange for the royal press secretary to include an addendum to my Paris itinerary. They can sell it as an investment-stroke-leisure trip.’ He turned to Jasmine, noting that she’d gone pale again. ‘Miss Nichols will be responsible for finding me five suitable candidates. Fly them to Paris for interviews after my investment meetings.’
‘You’re going ahead with it?’ Her face was deliberately blank, but her eyes were pools of shock.
Somehow that bothered him. He shook himself out of the curious feeling. ‘For my people’s sake, yes.’
She drew in a shaky breath and looked down at her linked hands.
He surged to his feet, not liking the feeling that he’d been judged and found guilty. Nor did he like the sensation of a noose closing around his neck.
‘Three days, gentlemen.’
‘Yes, Your Highness.