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‘When King Ronan approached me early last year I said I’d consider the idea,’ Jag said evenly. ‘It was never a done deal, and it should not have been made public.’
‘So now Richton gets a go at her?’ Rafe swore under his breath. ‘What if he pulls out? Do you and Ronan have someone else up your sleeve for her?’
Jag’s gaze sharpened. ‘Someone else...?’ His tone turned thoughtful. ‘That’s the kind of question a jealous lover might ask.’
‘Hardly.’ Unable to remain still under his brother’s perceptive gaze, Rafe paced the floor.
‘Richton won’t pull out,’ Jag said. ‘Apparently he’s been in talks with King Ronan for some months about a union, but regardless, the Princess is an incredibly lovely and intelligent woman. Most men would jump at the chance to marry her.’
Rafe knew how lovely she was, and having his brother notice only made his aggravation deepen. ‘But what about what she wants?’
Jag sighed. ‘I really don’t understand what’s got you so het-up about this but she does want it. We all want to end the hostilities between Berenia and Santara so we can move forward. If Alexa’s marriage is able to promote peace in the minds of the Berenians, then I’m all for it.’ He frowned as Rafe continued to pace. ‘Come on, Rafa. You know that arranged marriages have been happening here for centuries. They’ve worked out in the past, and they’ll work for a while to come yet.’
Too agitated to argue with his brother any further, Rafe headed for the door. ‘We’ll see,’ he said, slamming it closed behind him.
* * *
He found Alexa in the breakfast room, speaking to another of the guests who had stayed overnight at the palace.
The smell of coffee made his saliva glands go into overdrive but he bypassed the silver pot on the sideboard and headed straight for Alexa.
As he neared he realised she was speaking to Lord Graham, the son of an English earl. Had he been another one of her candidates?
Not that it mattered any more.
‘Princess Alexa?’ He stopped beside her, completely ignoring Lord Graham. ‘We need to talk.’
Clearly startled by his abrupt tone, her green eyes widened. ‘Your Highness?’
‘I told you last night, it’s Rafe. I rarely use my title.’
‘Prince Rafaele...’ Lord Graham frowned at him. ‘Princess Alexa and I are in the middle of—’
‘Nothing.’ Rafe turned his most cutting gaze on Graham. He knew he could be intimidating; he owned nightclubs and had been called upon to throw more than one drunken patron out onto the pavement, so he wasn’t surprised when the other man’s eyes flickered warily. ‘The Princess and I have...unfinished business to settle.’
Not at all as intimidated by him as Graham, Alexa frowned. ‘What unfinished business?’
Unprepared to stand around explaining himself in the middle of a room full of people, Rafe raised a brow. ‘Have you forgotten the proposal you made last night? Perhaps you were drunk after all.’
‘I was not!’
‘Then you haven’t forgotten.’ He cut his gaze back to Graham, who had foolishly remained rooted to the spot. ‘And unless you want Lord Graham here to be privy to our chat I suggest we take this somewhere private.’
Clearly unimpressed with his high-handed tactics, Alexa’s mouth tightened. ‘Fine. Please accept my apologies, Lord Graham. Prince Rafaele obviously has a bee in his bonnet about something.’
A bee in his bonnet?
Rafe shook his head and reached for her elbow. ‘You don’t have to be nice to everyone, you know. Graham will survive without your company for a while.’
Rafe directed Alexa through a nearby door to a small private terrace, which was thankfully empty.
‘You need to stop doing that,’ she complained, glaring up at him. ‘I am not a horse to be led around at will.’
She brushed past him as she moved out of the direct line of the sun and the subtle scent of her perfume drew his muscles tight.
Irritated that he was affected by a woman who wasn’t even trying to win his favour, Rafe met her icy stare with one of his own. ‘All evidence to the contrary.’
‘What does that mean?’
