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Was Madeline special? Could she change his mind? Good heavens, no. He couldn’t possibly be healed from losing his wife.
Queen Anne’s death had been a horrific tragedy and quite the scandal with the former prime minister and his wife being involved and the Rindlesbacher family wreaking havoc and manipulating and blackmailing many people in the kingdom. Unfortunately, that scandal was now being resurrected by two members of parliament and approved by Prime Minister Carrera.
That was why she was here. Not to flirt with the king.
The guard slid the door open. King Nolan and Prince Tristan both stood as she entered. She curtsied to both of them. King Nolan didn’t stop at standing to show his respect. He hurried around the desk, his mesmerizing blue eyes lit up and one hundred percent focused on her. That warm look in his eyes made her stomach dance. His handsome face split into a grin. He reached her and extended his hand. Madeline knew she shouldn’t touch him—it would mess with her normally well-functioning brain—but how did one refuse the king?
She put her hand against his, and the unfamiliar tingles and warmth she’d felt during their dance and again any time this past year when he’d graciously shaken her hand as if she were his equal, slid along her palm.
His gaze sharpened on her, and he clasped her hand in his. She felt feminine, dainty, desirable, irresistible really as their gazes and hands held. Every dream she hadn’t let herself dream in the twenty-six years since her husband had ditched her and her son waltzed through her mind.
Her earlier pep talk disappeared like a puff of smoke. Her pep talks rarely failed her and had pulled her through raising and providing for Chad by herself, working her way up to being a member of Augustine’s parliament, and staying impervious to the men who asked her out.
“Madeline,” King Nolan said in a husky tone that made her even hotter than the bright July sunshine outside. “To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from our favorite member of parliament?”
“I hope it’s still a pleasure after I present my mission.” She grinned even though she was serious and terrified to place the paper in her purse in his hand.
“Always a pleasure to see you.” King Nolan said those words in such a deep, melodious tone it made her shiver. As soon as he spoke them, he stiffened. Shocked by his own response?
“You are too kind, oh mighty king,” she tried to tease and was rewarded with his blue eyes twinkling at her.
She forced herself to pull her hand back and turn to Tristan. He was her son’s best friend, so it was hard to keep the title in front of his name. He approached, and King Nolan stepped back as his son gave her a warm hug.
“Mama Prescott. It’s fabulous to see you.”
“You too, handsome. How is Jennifer feeling? I’ve been praying for her.”
“Those prayers are much appreciated. She’s horribly sick. Steffan claims it will pass in a few weeks. I certainly hope so. Watching her throw up is devastating.”
“I’m sure it’s more devastating being the one throwing up,” she teased.
“Oh, for sure. She is tougher than I am. We all know that. How are Chad and Hope?”
“You probably see them more than I do.” Chad had married Hope Radisson last spring, and they were busy between his responsibilities with the Augustine military and running the military training center, and Hope owning a chain of fitness centers and athletic clothing stores throughout America. Lady Fit was hugely successful, and Madeline was delighted with her new daughter-in-law and her sister Faith. Faith seemed to cling to Madeline, much in need of a mother since hers had deserted her at only twelve years old.
“I doubt that. They both adore you, and I know they visit every chance they get.” He smiled, crinkling the burn scars on the left side of his face. The scars had healed and faded somewhat, but they were a reminder that the royal family wasn’t safe or immune to pain. Last summer and fall had challenged them to the extreme. The bomb Roger had used Madeline to try to kill them with at Prince Malik’s wedding and then his attack on Hope and Faith the next day had been the last of the Rindlesbachers’ schemes.
Thankfully, William and Treven Rindlesbacher were both dead and Naomi Rindlesbacher hadn’t been seen in over nine months. Unfortunately, two key members of parliament were trying to claim King Nolan was secretly meeting with Naomi, and that the woman on every crime watchlist throughout the world would be the next queen of Augustine.
Madeline, and most of parliament, thought it was ludicrous. But the law stated if two members of parliament brought forth a movement and the prime minister endorsed it, it must be resolved. After the controversy with Prime Minister Shule and the danger to the throne and the kingdom, everyone was on edge. In closed-door sessions, the only consensus that made everyone happy was sending one of their own to personally monitor happenings around the castle. Hence, here she was, volunteering to watch the king and make certain Naomi had no power or sway over him.
She risked a glance at the man himself. His gaze hadn’t left her, and she was grateful she’d worn her best suit. What would it be like working in close quarters with the king? Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.
“Come. Sit.” King Nolan took her elbow. Even that simple touch of his palm against her bare skin captivated her. He escorted her to a chair across from his desk. She knew Tristan had his own office next door, but it appeared he had set up shop here as well, with a laptop on a table by the window and a comfortable office chair. Another table and chair were empty. The former prime minister had spent most of his days here at the castle working closely with the king and crown prince. The new prime minister preferred staying in Traverse and working more closely with parliament. He spent hours on Zoom calls with the king and crown prince, together and separately, each day.
The king walked around the desk and sank into his chair. Tristan pulled his chair up next to hers and leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee. He was completely comfortable with her, as he should be after all the time he’d spent with Chad at her house over the years. How would he react to the outlandish accusations and her assignment? She glanced back at the king, regal in his kingly chair. It might as well have been a throne. How wouldhereact? She’d seen him serious, but never upset. She was betting she might witness that today.
“What brings you to see us today?” King Nolan asked.
Madeline loved to tease with him whenever she could. It helped to hide her unprofessional and undeniable attraction to him. The attraction had blindsided her last Christmas at Tristan and Jennifer’s wedding. The king had danced with her. She knew he’d only asked because Chad was Tristan’s best man and they both loved each other’s sons. They’d danced and teased and laughed, but underlying that, his touch had transported her to a different world full of tingles and light, and his blue eyes had captivated her. She thought of that dance far too often. She’d felt like she was floating. Silly, but she couldn’t deny the power of those feelings.
“King Nolan. Prince Tristan.” She cleared her throat and prayed for professionalism. Before they could both insist on her dropping the titles, she rushed on. “I’m here on official business as an emissary from parliament and Prime Minister Carrera.”
“Oh?” King Nolan leaned back, not looking quite as happy at her being here.
She had it on authority from Chad and had seen glimpses herself that the newly appointed prime minister did not have the rapport and comfortable yet effective relationship former Prime Minister Shule had with the royals. Henry Shule had been too comfortable, according to the prevailing sentiment among parliament after all the angst that had occurred. Not any longer.
“What business might that be?” the king asked, his blue eyes piercing now.
