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“Did he?”
“Turns out he forgot an important piece of information. But,” she said as Mona laughed, making it her time to feel sick to her stomach, “now that he has it, I’m sure he knows what he has to do.”
* * *
It was the longest meal of Armando’s life. Bad enough before, when he was listening to Darius attempting to charm Rosa. But once Mona came, he was forced to be charming himself while listening to Darius. All the while wishing he was standing under the mistletoe with Rosa.
Rosa, who refused to catch his eye.
Just as well. It had been wrong of him to declare his feelings when he was obligated to Mona. Selfish and wrong. His only defense was that he’d been doing exactly what he’d advised Rosa to do: not think.
Now, as punishment for his greediness, he could spend the rest of the evening tasting Rosa’s kiss. The sensation of her mouth moving under his overrode his taste buds, turning everything that passed his lips bland and lifeless. By the time dessert arrived, he wanted to toss his napkin on the table and tell everyone he was through.
He didn’t, of course. One abrupt departure was enough. Besides, between his behavior and Mona’s late arrival, he’d stolen the spotlight enough.
Well, he had wanted to give people something to gossip about besides Arianna’s pregnancy. Sitting to his left, Mona dabbed her lips with her napkin. “Father was right,” she said. “Your sister and her fiancé are very devoted to one another. No wonder your father is willing to be so...accepting...of the circumstances.”
“What do you mean?”
“Please don’t get me wrong,” she said. “I only meant that Corinthia has a reputation for being almost as traditional and conservative as my country. That your father doesn’t seem fazed by your sister doing things out of order, if you will, says something.”
“The order doesn’t matter. Max’s devotion to Arianna is indisputable.”
“She is very lucky. As you and I both know, love matches in royal marriages are rare.”
Yes, they were. Yet again, he tried to catch Rosa’s attention, but her profile was firmly turned toward Darius.
Armando flexed his fingers to keep from forming a fist. A lock of hair had fallen over her eye, loosened no doubt, when they’d kissed. He wanted to comb it away from her face simply so he could run his fingers through her hair.
He wanted to do a lot of things. Apparently being haunted by her kiss wasn’t enough—all his other buried urges returned as well.
Coming back to life was killing him.
“Over time...”
Mona was talking to him again. He jerked his attention back. “I’m sorry. I missed what you said.”
“I was talking about royal marriages,” she said. “That the absence of love in the beginning doesn’t mean the marriage won’t be successful. After all, if two people are compatible, there is no reason why they won’t develop feelings for one another over time. Love doesn’t always happen at first sight.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Armando murmured. Sometimes love crept up on you over a period of years, disguising itself as friendship until your heart was ready.
“Especially when there are children and mutual interests involved,” Mona continued. “When two people are committed to the same goals.”
“Working as a team,” Armando said.
“Precisely.”
That’s what he and Rosa were. A perfectly matched team.
You didn’t break up a perfect team.
He would tell Mona tonight that their arrangement was off. There would be a scandal, which would divert attention away from Arianna and her child’s illegitimacy. That had been the point of accelerating his marriage plans in the first place. Meanwhile he would court Rosa properly.
Fingertips grazed the back of his hand, causing him to stiffen. Mona smiled apologetically. “You looked a million miles away,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I was thinking about the future.” One that looked bright for the first time in years.
“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied, “because I have, too.”
Sadly, they weren’t thinking of the same future, and for that, he felt terrible. It wasn’t Mona’s fault love had a bad sense of timing. “Perhaps we should talk after dinner,” he said.
“I would like that,” Mona replied. She looked down at their hands, which were still connected, she having left hers atop his. “I hope you don’t think me too forward, but I believe you and I could do a lot of good together.”
The muscles along the back of Armando’s neck began to tense. “Good?” he repeated.
“Yes. The flu I caught the other week. Father told you I caught it volunteering at the hospital? He lied. What he didn’t tell you was that the people of Yelgiers are suffering from a terrible health care crisis. A lot of our citizens, mostly women and children, are without decent medical attention. The fact that women are still treated as second-class citizens in many parts of the country, and are therefore seen as undeserving of care, only exacerbates the problem. So many women suffer in silence.”
