Crown Prince's Bought Bride

‘I came to give you this,’ Remi said, producing a royal blue velvet box from his pocket.

‘Another trinket?’ she asked.

There’d been a steady procession of family heirlooms over the last week, presented to her as part of Montegovan tradition. One of several.

‘Why are you doing this?’ she blurted, unable to stop herself in the face of his rigid demeanour.

If anything, his expression grew even more remote. ‘This belonged to my grandmother. She wore it on her wedding day.’

She waved him away. ‘I don’t mean whatever is in that box. Why are you marrying me if you’re so unhappy about it?’

He stiffened. ‘Do I need to rehash my reasons one more time?’

‘I know you’re doing it for your people, but surely a part of you must want this for yourself too?’

‘You think I don’t want this?’

‘Yes, I do,’ she replied boldly. ‘I think you’d give almost anything for the person you’re marrying—me—to be somebody else. Tell me I’m wrong.’

He lost a shade of colour—the first time she’d seen Remi less than in full control. A second later his jaw clenched tight.

‘That line of reasoning is useless and a waste of time. The past cannot be changed.’

She rose to face him, even though their equal footing was an illusion. ‘And yet you’re letting it dictate your future. If you’re truly not done with grieving over her then you should wait. I’ve met your people. They’ll understand if you need to find someone else who...’

Her words fizzled away when he tossed the box onto the seat she’d just vacated and cupped her shoulders in a firm hold.

‘We have an agreement. If this is your way of attempting to wriggle out of it, think again.’

‘I’m trying...’ She stopped and took a breath. ‘No one will talk about her. Everyone whispers. They’re scared of upsetting you by saying her name out loud.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

His eyes burned into hers, warning her against pursuing a forbidden subject. ‘You’re prying into matters that don’t concern you.’

She laughed—a bitter sound that scraped her throat. ‘Don’t concern me? Because this is supposed to be some sort of clinical transaction?’

‘Precisely,’ he snapped.

The ache in her heart grew. She rubbed at it with her clenched fist but it didn’t dissipate. ‘I’m not a robot without feelings. I can only keep up the charade for so long.’

‘Is that a veiled threat?’

She sighed. ‘No, it’s not. It’s a suggestion that you may be doing yourself and your people a disservice in the long run if this marriage they seem so happy about turns out not to be what they expect.’

His nostrils flared. ‘You dare to tell me how to see to my own people’s well-being?’

Maddie tried not to be distracted by the fingers still gripping her, branding her skin. ‘I’m attempting to give you a new perspective. You shouldn’t dismiss your mother’s way of doing things out of hand. You never know—you may even find someone on her list you might grow to like eventually.’

‘You think I don’t like you?’

Her chest tightened. ‘Do you really need me to answer that?’

He stared down at her for breathless seconds, and then with a harsh sound he yanked her close. Merciless lips seared hers, creating a path for lustful flames to consume her whole.

It had been five long weeks since that wild encounter in his suite back in London. With every touch and look he’d orchestrated in public, the hunger he’d incited in her had only intensified. And, try as she might to deny it, desire bore down on her tenfold now, rendering it impossible for her not to wrap her body around him, strain to get even closer.