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Embarrassed, and not a little disconcerted by the strength of her reaction to him, Alexa lifted her chin. ‘It will be expected that we’re seen together at some point, you know.’
‘Perhaps.’ His eyes were a hot and watchful brand as they locked with hers. ‘But let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, hmm?’
* * *
If Alexa had wondered over the course of the last two weeks how Prince Rafaele felt about their impending nuptials, all doubt evaporated when she caught sight of his grim expression at the end of the aisle.
He hated it.
Something Alexa would probably have been more aware of had they not delegated every aspect of the wedding planning to their respective assistants.
Not that she’d wanted to plan it. The thought of it had been so challenging she’d deliberately thrown herself into horrendously long working days so that she’d be too exhausted by the end of the day to think about anything at all, least of all the wedding.
The down side to having been so busy was that the time had seemed to rush by. And now she was about to trust her future to a man who liked to be in charge, and whom she hardly knew.
One she was incredibly attracted to.
The unwanted thought entered her head entirely without her permission. For two weeks she’d been trying to avoid thinking about the way he had kissed her and touched her and the way she had responded, but she hadn’t been completely successful, her dreams often so erotic she had woken sweaty and embarrassingly aroused on more than one occasion.
Because sex with Prince Rafaele would be unforgettable.
And thinking that way would lead to trouble. They had struck a marriage bargain with each other for political purposes. It was nothing more than a marriage of convenience; the Prince might kiss like a dream but she couldn’t have sex with him. Not only would it not serve any long-term purpose but she was very afraid that she’d like it too much. That she’d like him too much. And if he were to find her lacking... If he were to find her inadequate... A horrible queasiness settled in the pit of her stomach before she swallowed it down.
No. As tempting as the Prince was the key to making their temporary marriage work was to focus on her objectives—freedom to make her own marriage match in the future, as well as the restoration of political peace between their nations. The latter of which already seemed to be working.
The people of
both Berenia and Santara had greeted the announcement of her impending marriage to the Prince with unmistakable enthusiasm, treating it as the love story of the age. That was thanks, mainly, to a photo that had been taken of the two of them dancing at the charity ball. In the photo the Prince was holding her far too close, the smile on his face shockingly sexual, while her own expression was one of stunned stupefaction. At least that was how it looked to her!
But their respective PR departments had loved the photo, adding it to their marriage announcement for the entire world to see.
Alexa eased out a steadying breath as she came to a halt in front of the Prince, her long white gown settling around her ankles in a rustle of silk. If ever there had been a stony-faced groom, he was it.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. If she’d been hoping for some other reaction from him, and maybe deep down she could admit that she had been, then she would have to get over it.
Gone was the devil-may-care seducer she had met at the Santarian Summer Palace just over two weeks ago. Gone was the charming rebel who didn’t let anything bother him. This version of the Prince couldn’t be more bothered if he was being swarmed by angry wasps, his face carved in stone, his muscles taut as if he were fighting the urge to run.
Join the club, she thought as the celebrant spoke the first words of the service.
As if in a dream state, Alexa barely followed the proceedings, her senses leaping with surprise when the Prince placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him, his fingers sure and strong, his expression unreadable.
Before Alexa fully understood that they had reached the end of the service his head bent to hers, his lips covering her own in a searing kiss. She didn’t mean to close her eyes at the contact but she did, and it only heightened the riot of sensations inside of her.
A tremor went through her as his fingertips brushed the nape of her neck in a feather-light caress and Alexa swayed, barely catching herself at the last moment before she completely melted against him.
Fortunately she was able to recover herself as the wedding guests clapped and whooped, and the qanun and oud struck up a lively tune as they proceeded back down the aisle.
Everyone seemed happy as they ate and danced and mingled during the lavish reception. Everyone except Alexa, who grew more and more miserable as the afternoon wore on. Prince Rafaele had behaved like a polite stranger during most of proceedings and Alexa couldn’t wait for him to return to London.
Guilt and nerves ate away at her. Guilt that she had somehow caused this whole debacle with her wretched plan to find a temporary fiancé, and nerves because she had a strange premonition that her life would be changed for ever by marrying him.
Which, of course, it would be—but only temporarily.
And what was the shortest marriage on record? If it was two hours she’d surely beat it because she’d like nothing more than to pretend it hadn’t happened at all and end it now.
Badly needing a distraction, she caught sight of King Jaeger, now dancing with his heavily pregnant wife, Queen Regan. Alexa had tried not to like the Queen when she’d first met her, but Regan’s compassion and understanding of how she had felt to be jilted by the King had shone through from the start. It was embarrassing now how Alexa had become tearful when she’d first met the Queen, having had to sit through a dinner watching the man she’d had a teenage crush on stare at a woman he clearly adored.
It was strange watching them now because none of those old feelings she’d had for him seemed to exist any more. She could appreciate his good looks and strong masculine presence but she could no longer see herself by his side. As his wife. Instead she found herself comparing him to her new husband. They both had dark hair and similar eyes and they were both incredibly well built but, as suitable as the King had been as a marriage prospect, he had never drawn her gaze the way Prince Rafaele did.
