Flogged.
‘You had better have a very good explanation for why you’re in my room,’ he said through gritted teeth.
She swept her thick, wavy, glossy black mane of hair over one slim shoulder. ‘I came to see you about my house. You have to give it back.’ She nailed him with a look that was diamond-hard. ‘I’m not leaving your side until you sign me over the deeds to Tarrantloch.’
‘Monsieur Caffarelli,’ the older official spoke in a stern ‘don’t mess with me’ tone. ‘Would you please verify if this young woman is personally known or related to you? If not we will have her immediately evicted and the authorities will deal with her accordingly.’
Deal with her? Remy didn’t like the sound of that. As much as he hated Angelique, he could not stand by and see her come to any harm. He took a deep breath and put on his best ‘let’s be cool about this’ smile. ‘I’m afraid there’s been a little mix-up. I had no idea my fiancée was going to surprise me by turn—’
‘Your fiancée?’ Angelique and the senior official spoke in unison.
Remy gave the official a conciliatory smile. ‘We’ve been trying to keep our engagement a secret. The press make such of fuss of this stuff at home.’ He gave a Gallic shrug. ‘You know how it is.’
The official straightened his shoulders, his expression as formal as a drill sergeant. ‘This young woman may well be your fiancée, but it is against the laws of our land for her to be alone with you without a chaperone.’
‘So, we’ll get a chaperone,’ Remy said. ‘She won’t be with me long in any case, will you, ma chérie?’
Angelique’s eyes narrowed to hairpin slits but her voice had a false sort of sing-song quality to it that grated on Remy’s already overstretched nerves. ‘Only for as long as it takes, mon trésor.’
The official puffed himself up to his not considerable height. ‘Due to the circumstances of your fiancée’s...ahem...surprise visit, neither of you will be permitted to leave the province until you are legally married.’
‘Married?’ Angelique had joined Remy in a choked gasp of horror.
‘You’re joking?’ Angelique gaped at the official with wide shocked eyes. ‘You have to be joking!’
‘He’s not joking,’ Remy muttered just low enough for her to hear it. ‘Go along with it. Try and keep cool.’
Keep cool? Who was he kidding? He didn’t feel cool. He’d never had to th
ink so fast on his feet in his life. Pretending she was his fiancée had just popped into his head. And it still might not be enough to get them over the line.
‘I’m not marrying you!’ She flashed him a livid, blue-lightning look. ‘I’d rather die!’
‘Yes, well, you just might get that choice,’ he said. ‘We’re not in France, Italy or England right now. Didn’t you check out the Smart Traveller website before you came?’
Her throat rose and fell. ‘I didn’t think. I just...’
‘Not thinking is something you do remarkably well.’ Remy gave her a dressing-down look. ‘You’ve made a lifetime’s work of it.’
Her small hands clenched into tight fists and her eyes gave him another deadly glare. ‘I thought you were best friends with the Crown Prince. Can’t he do something?’
‘Afraid not.’ Remy had already had this debate with his friend during university. ‘The royal family have a lot of power but not enough to overrule laws of the elder tribesmen of the province.’
‘But that’s ridiculous!’
Remy gave her a cautionary look. ‘If you’re going to stand there spluttering insults like a Roman candle firecracker, I’m not going to lay down my life for you.’
She opened and closed her mouth, seemingly lost for words. Not that it would last. He knew how quick and sharp her tongue could be. She always tried to get the last word.
He was the only person in her life who wouldn’t let her have it.
‘Monsieur Caffarelli?’ The official stepped forward. ‘We must leave now to make the necessary arrangements to conduct the ceremony first thing in the morning. We will arrange alternative accommodation for your fiancée. You will understand that she is not permitted to spend the night in your room.’
‘But of course.’ Remy gave him another charming smile. I don’t want her here in any case. ‘I understand completely. I sincerely apologise for my fiancée’s impulsive behaviour. She is a little wilful and headstrong at times, but once we are married she will soon learn to toe the line. I’ll make absolutely sure of it.’
Remy smiled to himself when he saw the two red-hot spots of colour pooling in Angelique’s cheeks. She was standing rock-steady but he knew her well enough to know she was beyond livid with him. He could see it in her stormy eyes and in the clenched posture of her jaw. Too bad they had to have a chaperone. He would have quite liked to see what that anger looked like when it was finally unleashed.
Angelique turned to look at the senior official, her expression now meek and demure, those thick, impossibly long eyelashes batting up and down for good measure. ‘Please may I have a private word with my, er, fiancé? Perhaps you could chaperone us from the lounge. We’ll leave the door open here. Would that be acceptable?’