Seduced by the Spare Heir

As he left her side and approached the doe-eyed Helena, he knew Serafia had made the right choice. The bright, genuine smile on the girl’s face and the pinched, jealous expressions of some of the other girls proved that much. He led her out onto the dance floor for the first official dance of the evening. Helena was nearly trembling in his arms, but he reassured her with a smile and a wink.

Serafia made him want to be a better man. She helped him become a better man. He could think of no other woman who should be at his side but her. And he would tell her that.

Tonight.

Six

“Okay,” a voice announced over Serafia’s shoulder. “I have met your requirements.”

She turned to find Gabriel standing behind her. She’d been expecting his arrival. It had been nearly two hours since she sent him out onto the dance floor with Helena Ruiz. He had danced with her and at least five other ladies Serafina had chosen for him. Her inner spiteful streak had led her not to choose Dita as one of the dance partners. She wasn’t entirely sure if it was because she knew the Gomezes were disingenuous, or if it was because the idea of him dancing and potentially falling for the statuesque beauty made her blood boil.

“You have,” she said with a pleased smile. “You’ve more than met them. You’ve exceeded them. Well done, Your Majesty. Any pique your interest?”

Gabriel arched an eyebrow at her and held out his hand. “Join me on the dance floor and I’ll tell you.”

There were quite a few pairs dancing now, so the two of them would not stand out as much as they would have earlier. Deciding there was no harm in it—and she had promised—she took his hand and followed him out into the center of the dance floor.

Gabriel slipped his arm around her waist and cupped her hand with his own. For the first twenty seconds or so of the dance, she found she could hardly breathe. Her bare skin sizzled where they touched, and her heart was racing in her chest. Fortunately Gabriel was a strong lead and she didn’t have to think too much about her feet. She simply followed him across the floor and focused internally on suppressing the physical reaction she had to his touch.

“So, find any chemistry out on the dance floor?” she asked, desperate for a distraction.

“Not until now,” he said, his green gaze burrowing into her own.

“Gabriel,” she scolded, but he shook his head as though he wasn’t having any of that.

“Don’t start. I’ve had enough of the reasons why I can’t have what I want. I don’t really care. All I know is that I want you.”

The power of his words struck her like a wave and she struggled to argue against it. “No, you don’t.”

“Are you honestly going to stand there and tell me you know my feelings better than I do?”

She shook her head, focusing her gaze on the golden ropes at his shoulder instead of the intensity in his eyes. “You might want me for tonight, for one of your one-night flings, but not for your queen.”

“Do we have to decide what it will be tonight?”

If she had to decide in the moment, she would say no. She was wrapped up in the sensation of being so close to him. Her body was rebelling against her, desiring him desperately even as she argued against the very idea of it. “You aren’t in Miami anymore, Gabriel. Every eye in the room is on you tonight. This feeling for me will pass and then you can focus on making a smart decision about your future. A future without me.”

“Serafia, you are beautiful. You’re the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen in real life or on a magazine cover. You’re graceful, elegant, thoughtful, smart and incredibly insightful. I don’t know why you find it so hard to believe that I could want you so desperately.”

Desperately? Her gaze met his, her lips parting softly in surprise. His words were said with such sincerity, but she simply didn’t believe a single one. She was too aware of her own faults to do that. She’d spent too many years having every aspect of her appearance ripped apart by modeling experts, their voices far louder than any of her fans’ praises. And even if he could see past all her imperfections, he didn’t know how broken she was. The truth of her past would send any man running. “You don’t want me, Gabriel. You want your teenage fantasy from ten years ago. That person doesn’t exist anymore.”

She pulled away from his grasp as the music ended and made her way through the crowd of people coming on and off the dance floor. Spying a set of French doors, she opened them and slipped outside into the large courtyard of the Rowling mansion. She kept going, following a path into the gardens. It was landscaped like the formal English gardens of Patrick’s homeland, so she continued on a gravel path along a long line of neatly trimmed shrubs until she came upon a clearing and a circular fountain.