Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight

‘Well, of course I do, but perhaps not in front of everyone else.’ He sent her a wicked double-dimpled look. ‘We can do that alone later. Anyway, apparently the plans are in hand so we can steal a couple of days for a honeymoon.’

A honeymoon? Her stomach somersaulted. Was he joking? She stood frozen but he bent and brushed his lips over hers briefly, pulling away with a shake of his head.

‘No.’ He laughed. ‘You can’t tempt me yet.’

‘I didn’t tempt you,’ she muttered. ‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘Hester,’ he chided softly. ‘You don’t have to do anything to tempt me.’ He cocked his head and gave her a little push. ‘Now, head to the pool. I’ll meet you there shortly.’

* * *

Hester stretched out on a sun lounger, trying to read, but her brain was only interested in replaying every second of the previous night. Her body hummed, delighting in the recollections. She’d not realised the extent of what she’d been missing out on. No wonder people risked so much for sex. But she knew it would never be like that with just anyone. It hadn’t just been Alek’s experience or ‘expertise’. It had felt as if he’d cared—not that he was in love with her, of course, but that he was concerned for her feelings, for her to receive pleasure. That he desired to see her satisfied. She’d not had that courtesy, that caring, from anyone in so long. It was partly her own fault—she’d not let anyone get close in years. She’d not intended to let Alek get close either, but somehow he’d swept aside all her defences. Swiftly. Completely. So easily.

She knew sleeping with her meant nothing truly meaningful to him, not really. This was merely a bonus to their arrangement. She’d consider it that way as well. She could keep her heart safe—not fancy that she was falling for him, like a needy waif who’d never been loved...

But some distance right now was so necessary—which was why this talk of a honeymoon terrified her.

It’s just one year.

And last night had been just that once. They’d blurred the lines and perhaps that had been inevitable. While she didn’t regret it, she couldn’t get carried away on a tide of lust and mistake his actions for meaning anything more than mere physical attraction.

But Alek fascinated her far beyond that. She’d instinctively believed he had more depth than he let show and she’d been right. He’d been hurt by his mother’s death, frustrated by his father’s control over him, protective of his sister. And now of her.

There was meaningful intention in most of his actions. The playboy persona was part rebellion, only one element of his whole. He was also honourable, loyal, diligent and he did what was necessary for his country.

Okay, yes, just like that she was halfway to falling for him.

She swam, trying to clear her head and ease the stiffness in her body. Lunch was delivered on a tray to the table beside her lounger. After eating, she went back to her apartment to pack. But when she went to put her wooden box in her bag, it wasn’t on the table where she’d left it. She stared at the empty space, confused. She’d opened it only this morning, but now? She whirled, quickly scanning every possible surface but the box wasn’t on any. She broadened her search but it was fruitless. Finally she hit panic point—repeating the search with vicious desperation, tipping out her bag and tearing up the place.

‘Hester? What’s happened?’

She froze. She’d not heard him knock and now he was in the middle of her mess with his eyes wide.

‘It’s missing.’ She hugged herself tightly, but couldn’t claw back any calm. ‘I can’t go.’

He didn’t answer as he slowly stared around her room. Hester followed the direction of his gaze and realised what a mess she’d made of the place. She’d opened and emptied every cupboard and drawer in the apartment and still not found it. Cushions and pillows were strewn across the floor alongside books and blankets.

His focus shot back to her. ‘Your box?’

‘Yes,’ she breathed, stunned that he realised what she meant so quickly. ‘Who would take it?’ Her anxiety skyrocketed all over again.

‘You were going to pack it? You take it everywhere with you?’

‘Yes.’ She couldn’t bear to lose it—it held everything.

A strange expression flashed across his face. ‘Wait here. Just wait. Two minutes.’

‘Alek?’ Confused, she leaned against the wall, her arms still wrapped around her waist as his footsteps receded.

It was more than two minutes before he returned but she was locked in position, blinking back tears. She stared as she realised what he was holding. ‘Why?’ Her voice cracked. ‘Why would you take it?’

‘I thought I could get it back before you noticed it was gone. I’m sorry for upsetting you.’

‘Why would you—?’ Furious, she broke off and struggled to breathe as she took the box from him and saw it close up. The lid was open while the interior was empty. Heat fired along her veins and her distress grew. ‘Where’s everything gone?’

‘I have it all, just in my room. I’ll get them now.’

‘Why?’ The word barely sounded but he’d already gone.

Hester sank onto the sofa, snatching a breath to study the box properly. She closed then reopened the lid. It didn’t fall off any more, while the rubber bands were gone altogether.

Her bones jellified as she realised what he’d done.

Alek returned and carefully set a small tray on the low table in front of her sofa. It held everything she’d kept. All the little things. All her precious memories.

‘The lid opens and closes again.’ She blinked rapidly as he sat beside her. ‘It has a new hinge.’

‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I took it this morning after you went to the pool. I thought...’ He paused and she felt him shift on the sofa. ‘I knew it was precious to you. I knew it was broken. So I—’

‘Had it fixed.’ Her voice almost failed.

‘I wanted it to be a surprise...’ He trailed off and blew out a breath. ‘I should’ve asked you,’ he muttered roughly. ‘I’m so sorry. You probably loved it as it was.’

‘Broken?’ She shook her head and her words caught on another sob as she was unable to restrain the truth. ‘It broke my heart when it happened.’

He gazed at her and the empathy in his eyes was so unbearable, she had to turn away from it.

‘I can’t even see where the crack was.’ She stared hard at the box, refusing to let her banked tears tumble.

‘We have an amazing craftsman—he maintains the woodwork in the castle. He’s exceptionally skilled,’ Alek explained.

‘And so fast...’ She ran her finger over the lid of the box. How had he done this in only a few hours?

‘I talked to him about it before the wedding so he knew the issues.’

‘Before the weddin

g?’ Her heart skipped. He’d noticed her box and planned this?

‘I wanted to get a wedding gift that you would like.’

Her throat was so tight it wouldn’t work. That he’d thought to do this for her? It was more precious than any jewels, any other expensive, exquisite item. And she wasn’t used to someone wanting to do something so nice for her.

‘I didn’t get you anything.’ She finally looked at him directly, instantly trapped in his intent gaze.

He shook his head gently. ‘You’ve done enough by marrying me, Hester.’

That was enough? Just that contract? Somehow she didn’t want that to be enough for him. She wanted him to want more from her. That dangerous yearning deepened inside—renewed desire for that intimacy they’d shared last night. But he’d let her leave this morning. He’d barely said anything. Horribly insecure, she tore her gaze from his and turned back to the table, taking in the contents of the second tray.

‘Did your craftsman put these here for you?’ Her heart skidded at the thought. She needed to touch each talisman and make them hers again.

‘No. I didn’t want him going through your things,’ he said softly. ‘I took them out before giving him the box.’

Something loosened inside. She was glad it was only he who’d touched them. He’d been thoughtful and kind and suddenly the walls within crumbled and her truth, all her emotion, leaked out—sadness and secrets and sacrifice.

‘The box was my father’s,’ she said quietly. ‘Actually it was his great-grandfather’s, so it’s really old. It was for keeping a pocket watch and cufflinks and things. I loved it as a child and Dad gave it to me for my treasures. Marbles I had, sea glass I found. We found this piece together when I was...’ She trailed off as she held the piece in her hand. Memories washed over her as they always did when she opened the box—which wasn’t often at all purely because of the intensity of emotion it wrought within her. But it was also why she loved it, why it was so very precious and so personal and she couldn’t help whispering the secrets of more. ‘The pencil was my mother’s.’ It was only a stub of a pencil. And the remnant of the thin leather strap from her purse. ‘You must think I’m pathetic.’ She quickly began putting the other items away. ‘All these broken little things—’