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‘I was set up,’ he muttered.
‘Princess Hulda is in her sitting room and wishes to see you urgently,’ Gustav informed him.
‘I bet she does.’ Eirik gritted his teeth. ‘I’ve played right into my mother’s hands.’
He wondered if Arielle had seen the newspaper picture or the frenzied rumours on social media that his engagement to Ida was imminent. Would she think that he had taken her advice to court Ida before marrying her? He frowned. Arielle had stopped taking his phone calls before the photograph had been published.
The one thing Eirik was absolutely certain of was that he could not marry Ida Lundberg. He had told Arielle that love would not be a requirement when he married, and he’d meant it. But Arielle had reminded him that his wife would be the mother of his children. He realised that he wanted friendship and even affection between him and the woman he married. Otherwise, their children would grow up in a tense and unhappy family as he and his brother had done.
‘Tell Princess Hulda that I will be with her in half an hour,’ he instructed Gustav. ‘And ask Miss Lundberg to meet me in the library immediately.’
‘I have arranged a press briefing this morning so that you can make a formal announcement of your engagement to Ida. What do you think about holding the wedding in early July? It will give enough time for all the arrangements to be made. Your father is preparing to abdicate as monarch at the beginning of September when you will succeed him with your Princess Consort by your side.’ Princess Hulda finally ran out of steam and looked expectantly at her son. ‘Why are you glowering at me, Eirik? Do you have nothing to say?’
‘Oh, I have plenty to say, Mama, but I will spare your sensitivities.’ Eirik strode past the sofa where his mother was sitting in front of a low table that held a tea tray. He was not in the mood for a tea party. ‘I will not be marrying Ida in July or any other time. At the press briefing I’ll explain that there has been a misunderstanding and the rumours that we are engaged are untrue.’
The Princess slammed the teapot down. ‘It is your duty to marry her now that a photograph of the two of you has appeared on the front page of every newspaper. Your behaviour has compromised Ida’s reputation.’
‘My behaviour? Your own behaviour does not bear close scrutiny,’ he grated. ‘Ida admitted to me that you persuaded her to carry out her little stunt yesterday.’
Eirik pushed his hands into his trouser pockets. He felt restless and stifled in his mother’s over-fussy sitting room. He thought longingly of his mountain cabin, the big skies and sense of freedom, and Arielle. She was always in his mind.
‘I have told Ida that I have no intention of marrying her and apologised if I did anything that led her to believe I was considering making her my wife.’ Eirik sighed when he saw his mother’s pinched expression. ‘I give you my word that I will marry, but you must allow me to choose my bride when I am ready.’
Arielle felt a nervous wreck whenever she remembered—and she was not likely to forget—that the National Council’s assembly was tomorrow. She had edited her report to within an inch of its life, and Frida had read it and said that it was perfect. But the prospect of standing on a podium in front of government ministers, aides and goodness knew who else was terrifying. The knowledge that Eirik would also attend the assembly and perhaps be accompanied by his new fiancée made things even worse.
Ever since Arielle had seen the photo that was all over social media of Eirik and Ida wrapped around each other while they appeared to be kissing, she had switched off her phone and avoided watching TV. There were rumours of a summer royal wedding, but she would have left Fjernland long before then. She planned to give her resignation letter to Valdemar after she’d delivered her speech. He and Frida had become good friends and she’d miss them as much as she would miss working at the marine research institute.
Arielle sighed as she climbed out of the bath and dried herself on a towel before pulling on her fluffy pink dressing gown. Eirik’s mother had been right to guess that she was in love with him. Deeply, madly in love. And feeling the way she did meant that it would be unbearable to remain in Fjernland. She hoped for Eirik’s sake that his marriage to Ida would be happy. But he had said that he would retain his freedom after he married, and if he asked her to be his secret mistress, he would break her heart irreparably.
She frowned when there was a knock on the front door. Her neighbour in the apartment block often asked to borrow milk or coffee. But when she opened the door, her heart crashed into her ribs. Eirik lounged in the doorway, looking diabolically handsome in jeans and a black fine-knit sweater that moulded his muscular torso.
‘Shouldn’t you be with your fiancée?’ Arielle muttered. ‘I thought your mother would be over the moon about your engagement to Ida Lundberg and give a dinner party in honour of the happy couple.’ She could not prevent a note of bitterness in her voice.
Eirik’s eyes narrowed to gleaming blue slits. ‘Evidently you have not kept up to speed with the news reports. I am not engaged. I have told Ida that there is no chance of us marrying.’
Arielle was so shocked that she simply stared at him. ‘Was Ida upset?’ she finally asked.
‘Disappointed that she won’t be a princess, but she acknowledged that if we had married, it would have been a disaster. There is no spark of attraction between us.’ Eirik reached out and caught a handful of Arielle’s curls. ‘Unlike between you and me,’ he murmured. ‘Our sexual chemistry is more than a spark, it’s a wildfire.’
Her breath was trapped in her lungs. ‘You don’t want to marry me,’ she choked out, reminding herself that Eirik would never choose her to be his princess. But supposing hehaddecided to marry her instead of Ida...?
‘Of course not,’ he said smoothly. ‘But we are good together. You know it’s true, skatta.’ He ran his other hand over the front of her dressing gown, and despite the thick material her nipples tautened. ‘Even when you’re dressed like a pink marshmallow you turn me on more than any woman ever has.’ Eirik linked his fingers through hers and brought her hand up to his lips. ‘Come up to the penthouse with me.’
‘I can’t.’ Temptation and desire were a potent mix that she knew she must resist. A shiver ran through Arielle when she remembered Princess Hulda’s threat to tell Eirik about her father. There was a chance that Eirik would feel sympathy for her. After all, she was not responsible for Gerran’s crimes. But she still felt ashamed of her background. She dared not succumb to temptation and make love with Eirik when it would break her heart to do so.
‘I want to practise reading my report aloud so there are no glitches tomorrow,’ she told him.
He moved past her and stepped into the tiny sitting room. ‘The conference suite where the National Council assembly is held is about ten times bigger than your entire flat. If you practise your speech in the penthouse it will give you a better idea of the level to pitch your voice. Is this the report?’ He picked up the copy of her speech from the coffee table and walked back to the front door.
Arielle sighed as she gave in to her longing to spend one more hour with Eirik. ‘I need to get dressed.’
He was already heading down the corridor towards the lift. ‘You’re fine as you are.’
‘I feel ridiculous,’ she told him a few minutes later. Eirik had directed her to stand at one end of the penthouse’s open-plan living space and he was sitting on a chair at the opposite end of the room. ‘Especially in my dressing gown.’
‘Take it off,’ he suggested.
‘I’m not wearing anything beneath it.’
