HER WORDS ECHOED in his head all through the next day, and when he finally received the memo from his brother’s assistant, his irritation was at an all-time high. Because what Violet King thought about him in bed was none of his concern. She had an acerbic tongue, and she was irritating. Beautiful, certainly, but annoying.
Had he been the sort of man given to marriage, she would not be the woman that he would choose. But then, marriage would never have to be for him. He didn’t have to produce heirs.
He charged down the hall, making his way to her room, where he knocked sharply.
“Don’t come in!”
“Why not?”
“I’m not decent.”
“Are you undressed?” The image of Violet in some state of undress caused his stomach to tighten, and he cursed himself for acting like an untried boy. She was just a woman.
“No,” she said.
He opened the door without waiting for further explanation. And there she sat, at the center of the massive bed looking...
Scrubbed clean.
She looked younger than when he had first seen her yesterday, than she did in any picture he had ever seen.
Her lashes were not so noticeable now, shorter, he thought. Her face looked rounder, her skin softer. Her lips were no longer shiny, but plump and soft looking. Her dark hair fell around her shoulders in riotous waves.
“I don’t have my makeup,” she said.
He couldn’t help it. He laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt actual humor. Until now. The woman was concerned because she did not have her makeup.
“And that concerns me why?”
“It’s my... It’s my trade. I don’t go out without it. It would be a bad advertisement.”
“Surely you don’t think you need all of that layered onto your face to make you presentable?”
“That’s not the point. It’s not about being presentable, or whatever. It’s just... It’s not who I am.”
“Your makeup is who you are?”
“I built my empire on it. On my look.”
“Well. No one is here to see your look. And we have assignments.”
“Assignments?”
“Yes. First, time to give you a tour of the palace. Then we are to discuss your... Appearance.”
She waved a hand in front of her face. “I have been discussing my appearance this entire time.”
“Well. I don’t mean that, precisely. Your role as Queen will require a different sort of... A different sort of approach.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve made it very clear that I’m not on board with this whole Queen thing, and you’re talking about how you’re going to change my appearance?”
“I’m only telling you what’s on the list. We also need to go over customs, expectations. Ballroom etiquette.”
“Don’t tell me that I’m going to have to take dancing lessons.”
“Precisely that.”
“This is... Medieval.”
“Tell me what it is you need from home, and I will accommodate you.” Looking at the stubborn set of her face, he realized that he could drag her kicking and screaming into completing these tasks, or he could try to meet her in the middle. Compromise was not exactly second nature to him, but sometimes different tactics were required for dealing with different enemies.
He and his brother had been covert by necessity when dealing with their father. He could certainly manage a bit of finesse with one small makeup mogul.
“I... Well, I need all my beauty supplies. I might be able to come up with a queen-level look using my makeup, but nobody’s doing it but me.”
“We’ll see.”
“I can’t wear someone else’s products.” She was verging on melodrama and he would not indulge it in the least if it weren’t for his brother.
That was all.
“My concern is not centered on your business. And anyway, yours shouldn’t be at this point either.”
“Untrue. My primary concern is my business, because I think it’s what I have to offer here.”
“Why don’t we discuss this over breakfast.”
“I told you. I can’t go out looking like this.”
He pushed a button on the intercom by the door. Moments later the door opened, and in came breakfast for two.
“Oh,” Violet said.
“You keep introducing issues that are not issues for me.”
She looked deflated. “Fine. I don’t actually care about my makeup.”
“Then why exactly are you protesting?”
“Because. I want to win. And I figured if you thought I was this ridiculous and unable to function without a full face of makeup, you might send me back.”
“Again. Whether or not you become the next Queen of Monte Blanco is not my decision. So you can go ahead and try to make me believe that you are the silliest creature on planet Earth, but it still won’t change what’s happening.”
He moved the cart closer to her bed. She peered down at the contents. “Is that avocado toast?”
“It is,” he said. “Of course, I’m told that it’s quite trendy the world over. It has always been eaten here.”
“Fascinating,” she said. “I didn’t realize that you were trendsetters.”
He picked up his own plate of breakfast and sat in the chair next to her bed. Then he poured two cups of coffee. Her interest became yet more keen.
“I’m not going to poison you,” he said. “You keep staring at me as if I might.”
She scrabbled to the edge of the bed and reached down, grabbing hold of the plate of avocado toast, bringing it onto the comforter.
Her eyes met his and held. A shift started, somewhere deep in his gut. She didn’t move. Or maybe it only felt like she didn’t. Like the moment hung suspended.
Then her fingers brushed his as she took the cup, color mounting in her face as she settled back in the bed, away from him.
The distance, he found, helped with the tightening in his stomach.
She took a sip and smiled. “Perfect,” she said. “Strong.”
“Did you sleep well?”
“I slept about as well as a prisoner in a foreign land can expect to sleep.”
“Good to know.”
“The pea under the mattress was a bit uncomfortable.” A smile tugged the edge of her lips.
She was a strange sort of being, this woman. She had spirit, because God knew in this situation, many other people would have fallen apart completely. But she hadn’t. She was attempting to needle him. To manipulate him. From calling him a Saint Bernard to pretending she was devastated by her bare face.
And now she was drinking coffee like a perfectly contented cat.
“Why don’t you go ahead and say what’s on your mind. I can tell you’re dying to.”
“I will complete your list,” she said. “Down to the dancing lessons. But I want you to show me around the country. Not just the palace.”
“To what end?”
“I’ve been thinking. Your brother wants to bring this country into the modern era. Well. I am the poster child for success in the modern era. And I believe that I can bring some of that to you. I can do it without marrying your brother.”
“As far as I’m concerned it’s not up for negotiation.”
“Fine. We’ll table that. But I want you to give me the tools to make it a negotiation with him.”
“Perhaps,” he said, taking a long drag of his own coffee.
“Look. Even if I do marry your brother, you’re going to want me to do this.”
“He didn’t leave orders to do it. I have no personal feelings on the matter.”
“If you get your way, I’m going to live here for the rest of my life,” she said, her voice finally overtaken by emotion. “You don’t even want me to see the place? Don’t you think that I should be able to... Envision what my life will be?”
This was not a business negotiation. Finally. She wasn’t playing at being sharp and witty, or shallow and vapid. Not holding a board meeting curled up in her canopy bed. This, finally, was something real.
And he was not immune to it, he found.
“I’ll see what I can accomplish.”
She picked up her toast and took a bite of it with ferocity. “Well. At least I approve of your food.” She set the toast back down on the plate and brushed some crumbs away from her lips.
She managed to look imperious and ridiculous all at once.
He could not imagine his brother wrangling this creature. She was as mercurial as she was mystifying, and Javier had never been in a position where he had to deal with a woman on this level.
When it came to his personal relationships with women, they weren’t all that personal. They were physical. Suddenly, he was in an entanglement with a beautiful woman that was all... All too much to do with her feelings.
“Finish your toast,” he said briskly. “I will send a member of staff to escort you downstairs in roughly an hour. And then, it is time we begin your training.”
Violet muttered to herself as she made her way down the vast corridor and toward the ballroom. “Begin your training... Wax on. Wax off.”
This was ludicrous. And she was beginning to get severely anxious. She had been in Monte Blanco for more than twelve hours. She had not seen the mysterious King—who had vanished off on some errand, if Javier was to be believed—and she didn’t seem to be making any headway when it came to talking herself out of her engagement.
But she was the one who had decided she was better off trying to take the bull by the horns, rather than running and hiding in California. She supposed she had to own the consequences of that rash decision, made in anger.
The castle was vast, and even though she had received rather explicit instructions on how to get to the ballroom, she was a bit concerned that she might just end up lost forever in these winding, glittering halls. Like being at the center of a troll’s mountain horde. All gems and glitter and danger.
And as she walked into the vast ballroom and saw Javier standing there at the center, she felt certain she was staring at the Mountain King. She knew he wasn’t the King. Javier was acting on his brother’s behest; he had said so many times. Except it was impossible for her to imagine that this man took orders from anyone.
It took her a moment to realize there was someone else in the room. A small round woman with an asymmetrical blond haircut and a dress comprised of layers of chiffon draped over her body like petals.
“The future Queen is here,” she said excitedly. “We can begin. My name is Sophie. I will be instructing you in basic Monte Blancan ballroom dance techniques.”
“They could be anyone’s ballroom dance techniques,” Violet said. “They would still be completely new to me.”
“You say that like it should frighten me,” Sophie said. “It doesn’t. Especially not with the Prince acting as your partner.”
Violet froze. “He dances?” She pointed at him.
“I have been part of the royal family all of my life,” he said. “That necessitated learning various customs. Including, of course, ballroom dancing. There is nothing that you will be subjected to over the course of this training that I was not. And a great many things you will be spared.”
There was a darkness to that statement that made a tremor resonate inside of her. But before she could respond to it, he had reached his hand out and taken hold of hers, drawing her up against the hardness of his chest.
He was hot.
And her heart stuttered.
And she felt...
She felt the beginnings of something she had read about. Heard about... But never, ever experienced before.
When he looked down at her, for a moment at least, it wasn’t nice what she saw there in his dark eyes. No. It was something else entirely.
She looked down at the floor.
“I will start the music. Javier is a very good dancer, and he will make it easy by providing a solid lead.”
He was solid all right. And hot. Like a human furnace.
His hand down low on her back was firm, and the one that grasped hers was surprisingly rough. She would have thought that a prince wouldn’t have calluses. But he did.
She wondered what sort of physical work he did. Or if it was from grueling workouts. He certainly had the body of somebody who liked to exact punishment on himself in the gym.
Music began to play in the room, an exacting instrumental piece with clear timing. And then she was moving.
Sophie gave instructions, but Violet felt as if her feet were flying, as if she had no control over the movements herself at all. It felt like magic. And she would have said she had no desire to dance like this, in an empty ballroom in a palace that she was being held in, by the man who was essentially her captor, but it was exhilarating.
She hadn’t lied to him when she said she had been given the opportunity to indulge in a great many things in life. She had turned away from most of them. They just hadn’t appealed.
But this...
Was this the evidence of being so spoiled that it took some sort of bizarre, singular experience to make her feel? No. She didn’t think that was it.
She looked up slightly and could see his mouth. There was something so enticing about the curve of it. Something fascinating about it. She spent a lot of time looking at people’s features. Using the natural planes and angles, dips and curves on people’s faces to think about ways that makeup might enhance them.
But she had never been entranced by a mouth in quite the way she was now.
She licked her own lips in response to the feeling created inside her when she looked up at him. And she felt him tense. The lines in his body going taut. And when she found the courage inside of herself to look all the way up to his eyes, the ice was completely burned away. And only fire remained.
But she didn’t feel threatened. And it wasn’t fear that tightened her insides. Wasn’t fear that made her feel like she might be burned, scorched from the inside out.
She took a breath and hoped that somehow the quick, decisive movement might cover up the intensity of her reaction to him. But the breath got hung up on a catch in her throat, and her chest locked, as she leaned forward. Her breasts brushed against the hardness of his chest and she felt like she was melting.
She swayed, and he seemed to think she was unsteady, because he locked his arm around her waist and braced her against his body. She felt weightless.
And she had the strangest sense of security. Of protection. She shouldn’t. This man was her enemy. After the way he had dismissed her suggestions for finding ways of not being forced into marriage, he was her sworn enemy.
But in his arms she was certain that he would never hurt her. And when she looked up into those eyes, she could easily see an image of him in her mind, holding a sword aloft and pressing her against his body, threatening anyone who might try to claim her. Anyone who might try to take her from him.
She was insane.
She had lost her mind.
She never reacted to men like this. Much less men who were just holding her in captivity until they could marry her off to their brothers.
But looking up into his eyes now, looking at that sculpted, handsome face, made it impossible for her to think of that. It made it impossible for her to think of anything. How isolated she was here. How her friends weren’t here, her family wasn’t here. She didn’t even have her phone. She hadn’t thought about her phone from the moment she had woken up this morning.
She had gotten up, scrubbed the makeup off her face, discarded her fake eyelashes and seized on the idea to play a ridiculous damsel in distress. Over eyeliner. And see where that got her. She hadn’t been able to stomach it. Because it was too ridiculous.
He might have believed it, but she found that her pride had to come into play somewhere.
So that had been her first waking thought. And then he had appeared.
There had been toast.
He had been handsome.
Now he was touching her.
And somewhere in there logic was turned upside down, twisted, then torn in half.
Because somehow she felt more connected, more present with this man, here in isolation, than she could remember feeling at home for a very long time.
But he’s not why you’re here.
The thought sent such a cold sliver of dread through her, and it acted like a bucket of icy water dropped over her head.
She was being ridiculous however you sliced it. But feeling... Physical responses to him were ludicrous. Not just because he had brought her here against her will, but because he wasn’t even the reason she had been brought here.
It was his brother. His brother who she hadn’t even met. She hadn’t even googled anything about him, because she didn’t have the means to do it.
She extricated herself from Javier’s hold, her heart thundering rapidly. “I think I got the hang of it,” she said.
“You are doing okay,” Sophie said. “I wouldn’t call it masterful.”
“Well, I’m jet-lagged,” Violet said. “Or did you not hear that I was forced onto a plane yesterday afternoon and flown from San Diego.”
Sophie looked from Violet to Javier. “I admit I didn’t know the whole story.”
“Forced,” Violet said. “I am being forced to marry King Whatever-his-name-is.”
“King Matteo,” Javier said.
“Are you?” Sophie’s face turned sharp.
“She’s fine,” Javier said. “Cold feet.”
“Oh yes, prewedding jitters are a real issue for kidnapped brides.”
“You’re clearly terrified for your life,” Javier said dryly. “You definitely treat me like I might kill you via lack of Wi-Fi at any moment.”
“I’m in withdrawal.”
“Leave us,” Javier said to Sophie.
“Should I?” Sophie asked Violet.
“I’m not afraid of him,” Violet said, tilting her chin upward.
Sophie inclined her head and left the room, doing what Javier told her. “You have my employees questioning me.”
“Good. Maybe we’ll start a revolution.”
“I would advise against that.”
“If you hear the people sing, you might want to make a run for it. And make sure you don’t have any guillotines lying around.”
“If revolution were that simple, I would have engaged in one a long time ago.”
“The history books make it look simple enough.”
“And full of casualties. My brother and I did our best to work behind the scenes to keep this country from falling apart. We prevented civil war.”
“Good for you,” Violet said, but she felt somewhat shamefaced now for making light of something that was apparently a very real issue here. And she shouldn’t feel guilty, because she was being held here against her will. There was no place for her to be feeling guilty. He should feel guilty. But of course he wouldn’t.
“I have work to do,” he said.
“I thought you were going to take me into the city,” she called after him.
“I have no desire to spend any more time with a spoiled brat.”
“Oh, how awful of me. Do I have a bad attitude about being your prisoner?”
“This is bigger than you. Can’t you understand that?”
He really thought that she should be able to take that on board. That she should just be willing to throw her life away because he was convinced that his brother thought she would be the best Queen for the country.
The longer she stood there staring at him, the longer she felt the burn of his conviction going through her skin, the more she realized they might as well be from different planets.
It wasn’t a language barrier. It was... An everything barrier.
He had sacrificed all his life for the greater good. He could not understand why it didn’t make sense to her. Why it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to abandon her expectations about her life and simply throw herself on the pyre of the good of many.
“Javier,” she said.
His expression became haughty. “You know people don’t simply address me by my first name.”
“What do they call you?”
“His Royal Highness, Prince Javier of Monte Blanco.”
“That’s a mouthful. I’m going to stick with Javier.”
“Did I give you permission?”
Tension rolled between them, but it was an irritation. She had a terrible feeling she knew what it was. That maybe he had felt the same thing she had when they had been close earlier.
She chose to ignore it.
She chose to poke at him.
“No. But then, did you ask me if I cared to get it?”
“What is it you want, Violet?”
Her throat went dry, and she almost lost her nerve to ask him what she had intended to.
“Do you do anything for yourself?” She decided that since she was already acting against what would be most people’s better judgment, she might as well go ahead and keep doing it.
“No,” he said. Then a smile curved the edges of his lips. “One thing. But I keep it separate. In general, no. Because that kind of selfishness leads to the sort of disaster my brother and I just saved our nation from.”
“But you know that’s not the way the rest of the world works.”
“The rest of the world is not responsible for the fates of millions of people. I am. My brother is.”
“We just don’t expect that, growing up in Southern California.”
“That isn’t true. Because you’re here.”
“Because of my business,” she said.
“And your father,” he said. “Because whatever you think, you feel an obligation toward something other than yourself. Toward your father. Your family. You know what it is to live for those that you love more than you love your own self. Magnify that. That is having a country to protect.”
Then he turned and left her standing there, and she found that she had been holding her breath. She hadn’t even been aware of that.
She looked around the room. She was now left to her own devices. And that meant... That she would be able to find a computer. She was sure of that. And once she had the internet at her disposal, she would be able to figure out some things that she needed to know.
It occurred to her that she could contact home. If her brother had any idea what had happened to her...
She could also contact the media.
But something had her pushing that thought out of her mind. If she needed to. If she needed to, she could make an international incident. But for some reason she believed everything that Javier told her. And since she did, she truly believed that things in their country had been dire, and that he and his brother were working to make them better.
She didn’t want to undo that.
So she supposed he was right. She did have some sense of broader responsibility.
But that was why she needed a better idea of what she was dealing with. Of who she was dealing with. And that meant she was going exploring.