Married for the Prince's Convenience

She rose from the beautifully carved brocade love seat by the window in her vast bedroom and entered the bathroom.

The marble-lined tub had already been filled with scented water and huge fluffy towels laid within arm’s length by the palace staff assigned to cater to her needs.

She’d been lost for words when she’d walked into a closet filled with designer clothes and accessories. And even more stunned when the member of staff had told her they’d been provided for her.

Shrugging off the silk robe, she sank into the enveloping warmth. She’d been summoned to dine with Reyes and his sister this evening, no doubt to be checked out by her future sister-in-law.

Jasmine looked out of the wide tub-to-ceiling trellised bathroom window and her breath caught all over again. With nothing to mar the mountaintop view she could see the kingdom for miles.

The bustling, vibrant capital of San Domenica was spread below her. Whitewashed churches vied with modern architecture, green parks and historical buildings.

As they’d driven through it on the way to the palace she’d glimpsed the look of pride and worry in Reyes’s eyes. They’d also driven past the square and his fingers had tightened on the armrest when he’d seen a woman crying next to a broken statue.

Her insides had clenched for him. But he’d relaxed against the seat, his face averted from her as they’d climbed up the highway leading to the palace.

The moment they’d been escorted inside, he’d made his excuses and strode off.

And she’d been left grappling with her mangled feelings. Feelings she still hadn’t been able to resolve by the time she dressed in a long sweeping gown in emerald green with a coloured-stone-embroidered bodice that had made her gasp when she’d spied herself in the mirror.

Sweeping her hair up into a bun, she secured it with several hairpins and slipped her feet into black slingbacks.

Fernanda, the staff member appointed to shepherd her to the dining room, left her with a smile and walked away after delivering Jasmine to the high-ceilinged room displaying ancient Mediterranean frescos.

Jasmine was busy admiring it when she heard voices outside the dining room.

Going to the door, she followed the sound down a long hallway, hurrying closer to where the raised voices came from. Rounding the corner, she came upon Reyes and a tall, slim woman in the middle of a heated argument.

He wore a thunderous look as he glared down at the stunning woman. A stunning woman who was giving as good as she got, her voice rising higher as she gestured wildly and responded in Spanish.

Jasmine thought of retreating. But they both turned as they sensed her presence.

For a moment, Reyes appeared frozen at the sight of her. His hooded eyes raked her from head to toe. Then he exhaled, his massive chest drawing her eyes to his impressively broad shoulders. His black shirt moulded his lean torso and washboard stomach before disappearing into dark grey tailored trousers that caressed his powerful thighs. His hair looked damp from a recent shower. He slicked it back now as he spiked his fingers through it.

Jasmine forced herself not to remember how those strands felt beneath her fingers.

‘Hi,’ she ventured. The breathlessness in her voice made her cringe.

Reyes’s mouth compressed before he turned to the woman. ‘Isabella, meet Jasmine Nichols, my future wife. Jasmine, this is my sister, Princess Isabella. She’ll escort you to the terrace for drinks. I’ll join you shortly.’ Without waiting for a response, he stalked off down the opposite end of the hallway.

Isabella watched him leave, her expression hurt and angry. She looked spectacular in a cream gown laced with gold and black thread. The satin material fitted her svelte figure and complemented her golden, flawless skin.

Turning to Jasmine, she shook her head in frustration. ‘Apparently, I was wrong to call off a wedding to a man I did not love.’

Jasmine’s insides clenched. ‘Duty is very important to your brother.’ She tried a diplomatic approach.

Isabella threw up her hands in despair. ‘Well, duty doesn’t keep you warm. From the examples we’ve both had, you’d think he’d know that marriage is hard enough without going into it with a cold heart. I told him if I had to wait a thousand years for a man who makes me happy, I would.’

A spurt of laughter erupted from Jasmine’s throat. ‘Bet he didn’t take that lightly.’

Isabella smiled. ‘As you saw, storming off was his reaction.’ She released an exasperated breath, then eyed Jasmine. ‘Or maybe it was something else?’ One perfectly shaped eyebrow rose.