Page 63

‘I know I’ve not done anything wrong, it’s not me in it!’ she reiterated for the twentieth time that morning.

‘Sure, but even if it were real, even if it were you, you still wouldn’t have done anything wrong.’ He stepped closer, his words terse. ‘It’s just a sex video. Chin up. Brazen it out.’

That was what he did with all his high-profile flings, right? If it were him in the video, everyone would cheer, not shame him—not whisper behind his back and look him up and down as if he was dirt. She was furious about it. She’d lived like a damned nun and this one thing that she had no control over now had the world judging her. But while she couldn’t believe any of this had happened, the fact that Alex had just tried to rally her from despondency was the most unbelievable thing to have happened today. It was so astonishing, she laughed.

His eyes widened. ‘Tilly?’

In that instant her laugh cracked and her eyes flooded. To her horror she flipped from cynical amusement to crying her eyes out. Of all the people to lose her emotional shit with, there was no one worse than Alex.

‘For heaven’s sake.’ He shoved his hands in his pockets and backed away. ‘Spare me the virgin-princess histrionics, it’s just a stupid video—’

‘It’s not the fake porn that’s the problem.’ She swiped the tears from her cheeks in frustration. ‘It’s not the video.’

A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘Then what is it?’

‘Your father. The King!’ she yelled.

‘What about him?’ Alex yelled back.

She stepped forward, finally goaded into revealing the horrifying truth, knowing it would shut him up completely. ‘He’s ordered me to get married!’

Chapter Two

‘So what?’ Alex scoffed. ‘He orders me to get married all the time.’

He just managed to rein in his relieved laugh. She had no idea how much worse he’d been expecting.

‘Ignore him,’ he advised bluntly.

‘Ignore the express orders of the King?’ She inhaled sharply. ‘Isn’t that treason?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘So aggravatingly obedient, Tilly.’

Anyone with a single brain cell would know that video was fake, but Tilly was a social climbing gold-digger desperate to stay on the top rung of her very tall ladder, and that tawdry trash didn’t fit the perfectly cultivated colourless image that she used as her mask.

He leaned back against the wall while she remained as ramrod straight and uptight as ever. She’d ruthlessly scraped her hair into a low bun, rendering its vibrant colour barely visible. Her immaculate bright white blouse was tucked neatly into the equally white skirt that went to her ankles. He had to hand it to her, she fully gave prim and perfect Princess. Completely repressed. Completely judgemental and honestly—completely fake. Because he also knew she’d sized up every item on display in the banquet hall—he’d heard her politely detail the provenance of an obscure, tiny vase to a guest at a state dinner one night. Her two-faced nature would be amusing except as always her mere existence burrowed beneath his skin like a prickly barb and made him—

He gritted his teeth and pointedly studied his watch.

‘Should I ignore the fact that Hugo has already started planning the wedding?’ she said, returning to her customary soft, too polite intonation. ‘That it’s to be a small but refined celebration with the family’s closest friends in only a week’s time?’

‘Naturally it’ll be refined.’

‘The colour scheme is already decided upon,’ she continued. ‘Yellow and cream.’

‘Well, that’s a fail,’ he remarked, deliberately giving her another blatant once-over. ‘That’s going to make you look more washed-out than ever.’

Her jaw dropped, then she rallied. ‘That’s your only comment?’

Yes, because she was only going full diva to get the attention she wanted. But he was not Erik. He wasn’t a prince who fulfilled duty with such intense propriety it verged on rigidity. He folded his arms and kept his focus on the door to the left of her. ‘Who does he want you to marry?’

‘Francesco Sandrelli.’

Ludicrous. This time he couldn’t contain his bitter chuckle. ‘But you don’t want to marry Fingers Frank?’

The art-dealing businessman was old enough to be her father and this was so unserious.

‘Why not?’ he goaded. ‘He’s wealthy and powerful. Those were good enough reasons for your mother to marry my father, right?’