‘You can do what you like,’ he offered. ‘Take out walls, rip up the carpet, whatever.’

Oh. Right. He meant the rooms. Only she hadn’t been thinking about the décor and what she feared she wanted was far too forbidden.

‘Don’t worry about the budget. I can just sell one of my horses to cover it.’

‘Don’t you love your horses more than anything?’ She tried to break her unfortunate fixation.

‘Other than my crown and my sister?’ he teased. ‘Or my playboy lifestyle?’

She licked her dried lips and refused to continue along that track. ‘Do you have an apartment in here too?’

‘Right next door.’ He nodded. ‘It’s best if we’re near each other.’

‘I understand, it needs to look okay.’ She made herself agree. ‘Because this is a job,’ she reiterated. But it was a lie already. ‘It’s just an act.’

With no intimacy—emotional or otherwise.

His gaze narrowed. ‘I’d like to think we can be friends, Hester.’

She didn’t have friends. Acquaintances and colleague, yes. But not friends. Since the rejection she’d suffered after her parents’ deaths, she’d not been able to trust people, not got to know anyone well. Not even Princess Fiorella.

But she sensed that Alek expected a little more from her and perhaps that was fair enough. It wasn’t right for her to judge him based on the actions of others he didn’t even know. Or on the salacious reports the media wrote about him. She had to take him on his own actions around her and so far she had to admit he’d been decent. He’d done everything in his power to make this as easy as possible for her. And it wasn’t his fault she was attracted to him like that. That element was up to her to control.

‘I’m sure we can.’ But inwardly she froze, petrified by her own internal reaction to him.

Her brain was fixed along one utterly inappropriate track. She had the horrible feeling it was like the teen girl’s first crush she’d never actually had. The fact was he didn’t need to do or say anything but he’d half seduced her already. Could she really be so shallow as to be beguiled by his looks alone?

‘It’s going to be fine,’ she said firmly. ‘We have a whole year and most of the time I’ll stay safe inside the palace, right?’ She moved into the room, faking her comfort within the large, luxurious space. ‘Actually I’m happy to stay here while you go to that meeting now, if you like.’

His eyes widened. ‘Are you dismissing me, Hester?’

She smiled at his mild affront. ‘Are you not used to that?’

‘You know I’m not.’

‘You’ll get used to it.’ She couldn’t help a small giggle as she echoed his own reassurance.

‘What if I don’t want to?’ He stepped closer.

Hester swallowed her smile and stilled. For a long moment they just stared at each other. Then, once more, he took a step back and the dimples flickered ever so briefly.

‘I’m afraid I need you for another few minutes to show you something else.’ He gestured towards the door.

‘Do I need string?’ She grimaced.

He chuckled. ‘It’s very near.’

She followed him through another doorway and then down a curling flight of stairs and blinked on the threshold of a huge airy space. There was a gorgeous pool—half indoor, half out, surrounded by lush plantings and private sun loungers.

‘My father had this built for Fiorella’s privacy, but she wanted her freedom. After my mother died, my father became overprotective and the palace became a bit of a prison for her.’

Hester swallowed at the mention of his mother. She’d not been brave enough to ask him about her at all. ‘Was it a prison for you too?’

‘I was older. And—as bad as it sounds—I was a guy. He didn’t have the same concerns for me as he did for her.’

‘Seriously?’

‘I know,’ he sighed. ‘Double standards suck. She was a lot younger though and she’d lost her mother. Everyone needs some freedom of choice, don’t they? Fi definitely did.’

‘She told me you helped her get your father’s approval for her to study abroad,’ Hester said. ‘That it was only because you promised to stay and do all the royal duties that she could go. And that now your father’s gone, you’ve told her she can do whatever she wants.’

He glanced out across the water. ‘She enjoys her studies. She should have the freedom and opportunity to finish them. She’s a smart woman.’

Hester’s curiosity flared. ‘What would you have done if you’d had the same freedom of choice that Fiorella now does?’

His smile was distant. ‘There was never that choice for me, Hester.’

Alek’s phone buzzed and he quickly checked the message. ‘The wedding dress designers have arrived.’

Oh. She’d forgotten about that. But she found herself anticipating the planning—she’d very recently decided that there was something to be said for smoke and mirrors. The look on his face when she’d appeared after her airplane make-over had been both reward and insult. She’d quite like to surprise him some more.

‘Is there a particular style you’d like for my dress?’ she asked demurely.

He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes narrowing. ‘I’m sure you’ll look amazing in whatever you choose to wear.’ But his dimples suddenly appeared. ‘Though I do wonder if you’ll dare to go beyond the basics for once.’

‘Feathers and frills?’

‘Why not?’ He led her back to her apartment where Hester found the women waiting. Hester drew in a deep breath and followed them in.

* * *

Four hours later Alek was hot and tired from going through the military-like wedding arrangements with his advisors and answering all their incessant questions. The media had already begun staking out the palace. The news had reverberated in a shock wave around the world. The news channels were running nothing but the photo that had been taken in the plane on the way over and digging deep for nuggets about Hester already. Fortunately her family were already on their way over and unable to comment because he’d ensured Wi-Fi wasn’t available on their flight so he still had time to guide their speculation.

Though he’d learned more about her in the small pieces being published as soon as they were written than from her own too-brief mentions of her past. The bald facts were there, but the real truth of her? The depth? He doubted the investigative reporters would get anywhere near it. She was so self-contained even he was struggling and he was the one with her. What had happened to her parents? Why was she so alone? What did she keep in that broken little box that she kept nearby at all times?

‘Alek?’

He blinked, recalling his concentration. He couldn’t waste time wondering what made her tick—what secrets and hurts she held close—he had to run the palace, reply to invitations to tour another country, clarify Triscari’s position on a new European environmental accord, and not least decide the next steps for the stud programme at his stables. Too much at the best of times.

Yet he still couldn’t help thinking about Hester, concerned about how she was dealing with all those designers and the decisions she had to make, wondering how else he could make her comfortable. He’d liked being able to do something that had truly moved her—seeing her real response pierce her calm exterior had been oddly exhilarating. He wanted to mine more of that deeply buried truth from her and know for sure he’d pleased her.

In the end he called an assistant to check on his fiancée’s movements and report back. Five minutes later he learned she’d been cloistered in her rooms this whole tim

e. Stifling a grimace, Alek turned back to the paperwork spread on the vast table before him. The prospect of their impending marriage strangled him, fogging his usual sharp decision-making ability, making everything take longer. Another hour passed and he was almost at the point of bursting in on Hester himself, just to ensure they hadn’t accidentally suffocated her in all that silk.

‘Enough.’ He pushed back when his advisors raised another thorny problem.

He’d been issuing instructions for hours and he was done.

If it were an ordinary day, he’d go for a ride to clear his head. But today wasn’t anything like ordinary and he couldn’t leave the confines of the palace, what with all the media gulls gathering. Irritated with being even more tightly constrained than usual, he impatiently stalked towards his wing. The tug deep inside drawing him there was desperation for his own space, wasn’t it? It wasn’t any need to see her.

He gritted his teeth as he reached her door and pushed himself past it. But once he was in his own room he heard soft splashes through the open window. He paused. Was someone in the pool?

He swiftly glanced out of the window. The view all but killed his brain as his blood surged south. Those utility trousers and tee had done a good job of hiding her figure. So had those two dresses, even, with their floaty fabric and draping styles. Because now, in that plain, black, purely functional swimsuit, Hester Moss was even more lush in particular parts than he’d expected. She truly was a goddess. And maybe this marriage wasn’t going to be as awful as he’d imagined. Already teasing her was a delight, while touching her a temptation he was barely resisting.

For the first time in his life he was pleased his father had been so overprotective towards his sister. That he’d ensured the pool was completely secure from prying eyes—beyond these private apartments, of course. In fact, the whole palace was a fortress. No one could see in and, with the air restrictions in place, no helicopters could fly over with cameras on board. He opened the door to his balcony and lightly ran down the curling stone steps to the private courtyard.

She was swimming lazy lengths and apparently hadn’t noticed his arrival. It wasn’t until she rolled onto her back that she saw him. Her eyes widened and she sank like a stone beneath the surface before emerging again with a splutter. He was so tempted to skim his hands over her creamy skin and sensual curves. He ached to test their silkiness and softness for himself. Except she now hid—ducking down in the blue so only her head poked above the gentle ripples she’d caused.

Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net