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‘I did, thank you.’
Queen Isabella’s private secretary, who outranked all the other private secretaries, called for order, and the meeting got underway.
Since when had he come to like Elsbeth’s perfume? Amadeo wondered. From the moment she’d taken the seat beside his, her delicate scent had swirled gently around him, and he was having to stop himself from greedily inhaling it deep into his lungs. To make things worse, he was wholly aware of the closeness of her body next to his too, and couldn’t seem to stop his stare dipping down to the pretty hands folded neatly on the table and willing them to place themselves onto his lap.
It was one thing having lazy fantasies about her when they were being transported to and from engagements, quite another to fight flickers of arousal in the middle of an important family conference. How many times had he reproached his siblings for not contributing enough to these meetings over the years? And how often in the short time Clara had been in their lives had he bitten back words of censure over her tendency to get visibly bored and fidget her way through them?
Leaning his body away from Elsbeth, he gritted his teeth and forced his concentration onto the topic of planned state visits for the following year, and joined in the arguments with his family over who should and should not take each one. Unsurprisingly, everyone thought they were best placed to do the week-long visit to the Caribbean island of Bandhi, which would be celebrating its two-hundredth year of independence. Marcelo and Alessia, having worn their parents down, were on the verge of tossing a coin for it when his eyes, unbidden by his brain, glanced at Elsbeth.
His heart throbbed at the concentration on her face. How silently she sat there, trying her best to keep up with their language. They weren’t making it easy for her, he acknowledged, not with them all talking over each other, all efforts to speak slowly so the non-native speakers could keep up forgotten.
If anyone deserved a week in the Caribbean, it was Elsbeth. That thought was all he needed to pull rank and nab that state visit for himself.
Ignoring his brother and sister’s outraged faces, he quickly filled Elsbeth in and was gratified at the spark of excitement that flashed in her eyes before she turned her attention back to concentrating on the next argument. This one involved who didn’t want to travel to a country renowned for its year-round atrocious weather.
Another hour passed before the meeting wound up but, before they could rise from their seats, his mother removed her reading glasses and looked at her three children in turn. ‘There is one more item of business to discuss before everyone leaves. The King of Monte Cleure has announced his plans to attend next month’s Grand Prix—’
‘Here in Ceres?’ Amadeo interrupted sharply.
Her eyes met his with equal sharpness. ‘Yes. As we’re all aware, protocol dictates that we should offer him our hospitality.’
Both Amadeo and Marcelo snapped, ‘No,’ in unison.
Their mother was tiny, barely touching four foot ten, a good foot and a half shorter than her two sons, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in stature. Fixing them both with a glare, she said, ‘I appreciate that feelings concerning that man run high but need I remind you both that you each married to prevent a trade and diplomatic war between our two countries? Failure to give due hospitality could be seen as provocation by him and then we could find ourselves back to where we were and our country and monarchy threatened.’
‘I don’t want that animal within a hundred kilometres of Clara,’ Marcelo said flatly. ‘We hosted him for Amadeo’s wedding and that ridiculous pre-wedding party. We’ve done our bit.’
With steel in her voice, their mother said, ‘I’ve already had my team invite him to stay here at the castle. He will fly in on the Sunday morning and go directly to the racetrack. After the race he will return to the castle as our honoured guest and attend the banquet we’re hosting, and then fly home the next morning. We will only have to suffer his presence for the one night.’ Then she looked directly at Clara, who Marcelo had been furiously translating for, and said in slow English, ‘I am sorry. I know it is hard for you.’
Clara shrugged. ‘I understand.’ Then she grinned. ‘I’ll try not to accidentally stab him.’
‘I’ll try not to stab him too,’ Alessia chirped up.
‘What about you, Elsbeth?’ Clara asked with a cackle of laughter. ‘Are you going to try not to stab him too?’
As soon as the meeting was over, Elsbeth’s arm was taken by Amadeo and she was steered into an empty office.
He looked frazzled. As impeccably groomed as he always was, there was a wildness in his eyes she’d never seen before. ‘Did you understand all that?’
‘About Dominic coming to Ceres?’ she guessed.
He nodded tersely. ‘The plan is for him to come for the Grand Prix and then attend the banquet we host each year for the race teams and their families, and stay for the night as our honoured guest.’
He practically spat the last three words out.
‘I thought that’s what you were all saying.’
‘Say the word and I’ll put a stop to it.’
Touched, she smiled. ‘You don’t have to do that. Not for me. If Clara can cope with him being here then I can too. After all, isn’t harmony between our two nations the whole reason you married me?’ She needed to say that more to remind herself than him because the way he was looking at her...
There was something about the wildness of his stare that made her think of dragon-slaying heroes of old.
It was on the tip of Amadeo’s tongue to say it was the whole reason she’d married him too, but his conscience stepped in and stopped him. His conscience knew it would be a lie.
Elsbeth had married him because she’d had no choice. Not any real choice. Was it any wonder she dressed for bed as a sacrificial virgin when, in essence, that was exactly what she’d been? How free a choice was it to marry someone when the alternative was more subjugation?
Dominic and her father had sold her to the highest bidder. And that bidder had been him.
