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‘And, also for the record, I do not sulk, though I have cause enough to. Maybe tall, dark and silent works for you, and fine in some situations, but not this one. You are a massive loss to the security services, you know that…talk about need to know! Well, I need to know whether I am about to negotiate a red carpet or—’

‘Calm down, no red carpet, your agent confirmed your request that our arrival be low-key.’

‘I don’t have an agent.’

He looked at her blankly.

‘That was me,’ she clarified and saw his bemused expression clear.

This reminder, had she needed one, emphasised that they both shared a royal prefix but, lifestyle-wise, they shared very little else. Despite his assurance, she was conscious that her version of low-key and Leandro’s might be very different, if her experience of this morning’s discreet pickup was any indication.

She understood the need for security but he seemed to take the phalanx of large men in sharp suits and shades as a normal part of everyday life.

‘So, no marching bands.’

‘We will ease you in gradually,’ His eyes drifted to the computer screen. ‘Obviously, there will be formalities.’

‘You’ve been a bit vague about them—three weeks is a lot of formalities and a lot of signatures.’

He looked up from the screen. ‘Three weeks will give you time to see what you are signing up for.’

‘You make it sound as though I can pull out if I don’t like the wallpaper.’

He arched a brow. ‘Well, you could, but I don’t think you will. I think you are the sort of person who would do anything for the people you love…and you clearly love your parents and sister.’

‘Of course I do, they are my family.’

‘Love is not guaranteed in all families. Your parents are proud of you. I hope I was able to soothe some of their concerns.’

She nodded. ‘I think you did.’ The man they’d spoken of sounded very different to the one she had dealt with—sensitive and respectful! ‘Thank you for doing that.’

‘There is no need to thank me,’ he said, sounding irritated. ‘It is in both our interests for this initial transition to go smoothly. There is nothing to be nervous about.’

She gave a brittle little laugh. ‘Easy for you to say. You’re not being judged. The people who are giving me marks out of ten have your best interests at heart.’

For a split second he stared at her then loosed a bellow of laughter before shaking his head and capturing her startled gaze. ‘I can promise you that no one will be judging you, or if they are they will have the good sense to keep any negative thoughts to themselves, and very few in the inner circle of courtiers have my best interests at heart.’ One thick brow rose to a satirical angle. ‘They would very much like to be rid of me.’

‘Rid…?’ She tried to laugh but couldn’t even manage a croak. ‘I knew, of course… I didn’t realise it was that serious…’

He studied her face and silently cursed his outburst; she was really spooked. There was a difference between brutal honesty and scaring a person—a difference that his father, who was a bully, had never recognised. Bullies were one of the things that Leandro hated. Leandro had spent a lifetime determined not to be his father.

‘We are talking about a few tabloid headlines.’ He closed his computer and shrugged. ‘Sorry, that was dramatic, it’s frustration speaking.’

She persisted, not totally convinced by this explanation. ‘But you have enemies in the Palace?’

‘True, but that can’t surprise you—you know about palace politics.’

‘I know my cousin and his wife.’

‘And I know who my enemies are and I am in the process of clipping their wings… People losing power and influence can be vicious, but then so can I.’

‘And you are always the smartest person in the room, aren’t you, Leandro,’ she realised. ‘I was going to say you’ve changed in four years, but you’ve always been this person, haven’t you?’

‘Are you the same person you were four years ago?’

‘I think I’ve done a lot of growing up in four years. Look,’ she continued, trying to find a middle ground in tone that was not aggressive or hysterical, even though she felt both. ‘It is in both our interests that this marriage works, and I get that you are King of the Castle and the buck stops with you, but what am I going to do? If you think I am going to sit around waiting to be wheeled out to make small talk and look pretty… I need a role beyond that. I need to have a purpose, and I don’t mean a made-up title. I have skills—’

‘You’re not pretty.’