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Page 11


  I only had to pretend for a weekend and make sure the story stood true until Sunday. After that, it was up to Luke to figure out what he needed to do when it came to his mother and her meddling nature.

  An unwarranted flair of jealousy flitted around inside of me at the idea of Luke with anyone else. It was irrational, but for some reason, it bothered me. I had no claim on him, so I couldn’t wrap my mind around feeling that way.

  I tried to shove it away, but Abir’s keen observations brought it back to full force when he said, “Luke has never brought a woman home to meet us.”

  “Never?” While I was sure plenty of women would be happy to have someone like Luke in their lives, I supposed he didn’t make much of an effort. Being thirty-three years old and never photographed with a woman in front of any press—I had checked—was a little odd. I supposed his workaholic nature had something to do with it in addition to him not caring to impress his mother. If he were wed, I bet there were more obligations he’d have to provide for the kingdom, which was very low on his list of things to do.

  “Never,” Abir confirmed. “He must like you.”

  I nodded, not wanting to give away anything unless directly asked.

  “I’d say he loves you,” Abir said.

  If we were actually dating and Luke brought me home to the palace, it would be because we were in love. I couldn’t believe that we hadn’t discussed it. I hoped Luke wouldn’t be upset if he found out I’d talked about it with Abir.

  “I hope he does,” I said, smiling into my hand. Playing the coy girlfriend was easy enough, and I hoped it would stop his questioning.

  “Abir!” someone called down the hallway.

  Abir’s face fell. “Yes, Mother? I’m down here.”

  My stomach hardened as Gia walked down the hallway. With her robes covering her feet, it looked as if she were floating toward us. Her eyes didn’t shift from her son.

  “Dinner will be served soon,” she said. “Please get ready.”

  Abir looked at me and then hurried past his mother to get to his chambers. Gia and I stood together in the hallway, yet she didn’t move an inch.

  After wallowing in the silence for a little too long, I said, “I love these paintings—”

  As quickly as she appeared to tell her son to get ready for dinner, she brushed past me, completely ignoring my complimenting her home.

  The decorations down each hallway were gorgeous. I guessed the paintings depicted previous kings or other royalty, but since I lost my guide and his mother was no help, I wandered down the hallway with no direction in mind.

  I recalled passing a main staircase at some point, but the hallways were long, and at any given corner, another one spread out in front of me with no end in sight.

  Taking the opportunity to snoop, I peeked into several rooms, knowing that if anyone caught me, I would use the excuse that I was lost.

  Instead, the one person I wanted to see appeared in the hallway. Thankfully, I wasn’t snooping when I saw him.

  “Luke,” I said, unable to hide the smile on my face.

  He strode down the hallway as if he owned the place. While he did that everywhere, in this context, I saw an entirely new person walking toward me. He belonged here, no matter what he thought.

  “Where’s Abir?” he asked, his thick eyebrows mashed together.

  “Your mother told him to get ready for dinner,” I said.

  He nodded. “I see. I should show you to your room to get ready as well.”

  He offered his hand, and I took it. The gesture was easy now, almost automatic. If anyone came upon us, they’d have no doubt we were a couple. I walked as close as I could to him to add to the facade.

  “How was the meeting with your father?” I asked, lowering my voice as two servants walked by us. Where had they been when I was lost and snooping?

  “Same as usual,” he said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You know you’ll have to talk to me eventually,” I said.

  “If that eventually is somewhere other than here, that’s better for me.”

  “This place is insane,” I said. “Y’all live in a palace for Christ’s sake. You should appreciate it more.”

  “I know,” he said. “But it comes at a price.” He let go of my hand. I was about to ask if I upset him, but then he opened a door in front of me. “This is your room.”

  I peeked inside. “Nice.” It was as lovely as the rest I’d seen. From what I gathered, they could have dozens of guests staying at the palace at any given time. It must have been a bitch to keep it clean. I could barely keep my bathroom and kitchen clean in my apartment, and that was smaller than this guestroom.

  “We’re staying in separate rooms,” he said. “Because we’re not married.”

  “I figured that,” I said.

  “You did?”

  “From the plane ride,” I said over my shoulder as I walked into the room. The marble floor was covered with a large intricate rug that was soft under my shoes. I sank into it with each step, and I wondered what it would feel like to dig my toes into it.

  “Your clothes are already in the armoire,” he said from the doorway.

  I wasn’t going to push him to come inside. I knew there were rules about such things, and since he was already stressed out, I didn’t want to add to it. I crossed the room and opened the armoire. Just as he said, they were all there, plus a few pieces that we hadn’t brought with us. I touched one of the brightly colored robes. The fabric was thin and silky to the touch.

  “Should I wear anything in particular?” I asked.

  “Maybe the gray dress that we bought back home?” he suggested. The corners of his lips lifted slightly.

  It was my favorite piece, too.

  I grabbed the dress by the hanger, brought it over to the bed, and laid it in front of me. “What about a scarf?”

  “Not tonight,” he said. “It’s a family dinner, so you can let your hair loose, so they say.”

  I slipped the scarf off my head, and his eyes locked on the thin fabric. I slowly tugged it out from under the neckline of my shirt, and I could almost hear the pounding of his heartbeat. Or maybe it was mine? He looked at me like I wanted to be looked at by a man. Desire flitted across his face, and I forced myself to look away before I pushed it to another level.

  I doubted anyone would care if I ran over to him and pressed my lips against his. It was a gesture that any couple engaged in, especially those who were in love. Or at least, under the impression that we were in love.

  I grabbed hold of those thoughts and shoved them deep down inside me. This was business. There was no reason to push the relationship when it was just the two of us. One of us getting feelings for the other would only end in disaster.

  “I’m going to change now,” I said without looking at him.

  “Of—of course,” he stammered and reached for the doorknob. “I’ll be back in a little while to take you down to dinner. Let’s say in a half hour?”

  “Perfect,” I said, holding the dress at arm’s length in front of me. Anything to keep my focus away from his lips and the fire in his eyes.

  The door clicked closed, and I exhaled sharply. Dropping the dress on the bed, I walked over to the windows. The view was of a part of the grounds that I hadn’t seen yet. The city was in the distance, giving me a perfect view, unmarred by any buildings. I watched several of the workers moving across the grounds, doing their jobs.

  Turning away from them, I knew I had to do my own job. It would be nice to live in a place like this, but I wasn’t going to be the girl to do it. I was an imposter, and for the first time, I felt a twinge of shame for deceiving his family.

  Sometimes, bargains were hard, but I intended to finish this one on top.

  17

  Luke

  I didn’t need to give Sophia a half hour to get ready. As it was, we were already going to be late, but I needed the time to get myself composed. In our time together, we hadn’t been alone mu
ch. We had either been in a public place or on a plane with several staff members.

  Standing in her doorway when she was on the cusp of stripping down to change had shifted something inside of me. Of course, I found her attractive. But we were playing our parts as boyfriend and girlfriend. If I had asked her to, I knew she would have kissed me right then and there. I saw the desire in her eyes, and I’d done a terrible job of hiding it myself.

  Taking a cold shower was in order, but that only took ten minutes. I’d dragged it out longer than usual. I spent extra time picking through my clothes to find the perfect outfit.

  While I knew I’d have to dress more traditionally for the banquet, I grabbed a suit that I had brought from home. It had faint gray stripes that were only noticeable if you were nearly nose to nose with me. More importantly, it matched the color of Sophia’s dress, and in my mind, it would show our solidarity.

  I had intended to tell Sophia everything when I got the chance, but we were running out of time before she and Mother were to be in the same room for a long period of time. There was no way she’d embarrass her family during the banquet, so if she was going to pull out all the stops, it would be at dinner.

  Opening up to Sophia was terrifying, partly because of her job, but mostly because it meant opening up a part of myself that I swore I’d keep hidden for as long as I could.

  Stepping up to her door, I hesitated, holding my fist in the air. Leaning closer to the door, I didn’t hear anything. I hoped she wasn’t in the bathroom. Other than the plane ride, I didn’t know her primping routine at all. I hoped she wasn’t the type to take an hour or two to get ready. Mother already disliked her; we didn’t need to give her more reason to.

  I knocked twice and stepped back from the door.

  “Come in!” Sophia called from inside.

  It wasn’t customary for me to enter a woman’s room unless we were wed. So, I opened the door and let it swing open while I kept both my feet in the hallway.

  “Sorry,” she said, balancing on one foot. “Just getting my shoes on.”

  Her hair fell in dark waves over her shoulders as she bounced on one foot while putting her shoe on. They were flats and would remain hidden under the long dress.

  She stood up and adjusted the dress so that the hem fell over the tops of her shoes, just as I’d requested. Shoving her hair back over her shoulder, she opened her hands to me.

  “Do I look okay?”

  “You look perfect,” I said. “Shall we?”

  She smiled, and my heart skipped several beats. Watching her walk over to me was the most seductive movement I’d ever seen. The dress hugged her curves, and I wondered if I’d made a bold choice.

  We didn’t have time to turn back, so I looped her arm with mine as we headed down the hallway.

  “I have to tell you something,” I said.

  “You’re becoming king?” she asked.

  “Ever the reporter.”

  “I’m only teasing. What’s up?”

  She didn’t put on much makeup, but her naturally pink lips made me want to take her here and now in the hallway for anyone to see.

  I drove my hand into my pocket to keep myself at bay. “I’ve never said it before, but I was adopted.”

  “What?” she asked.

  I nodded. “Not many people outside of the royal family know.”

  “But why? And how?”

  “Early on in my parents’ marriage, they weren’t able to have kids the natural way. So, they went to a local orphanage and picked me up. I was six.”

  “And no one questioned it?” I asked.

  “Things are different here. There isn’t as much media, and some of the rules are quite lax.”

  “So why isn’t Abir first in line to be the king? I mean, doesn’t it go by blood?”

  “It doesn’t have to,” I said. Having the truth out there for Sophia to know was a weight lifted off my shoulders. Even Maddox didn’t know I was adopted. There was no reason for anyone to know and question the methods of the kingdom in my country. “And I doubt he’d want it.”

  “So, neither of you want it, but someone has to take over?”

  “That’s the sum of it,” I said.

  Silence hung between us for most of the walk to the dining room. It was a lot to take in, and I wasn’t sure how ready I was for Sophia to ask more about the process of me becoming king. At the very least, I had a leg up on whatever questions Mother intended to throw our way.

  Right outside of the dining room, two servants stood by the open doors.

  A firm tug on my arm pulled me to the side. Sophia was much stronger than I realized.

  Her eyes lifted to mine. “You don’t know your parents? Your real parents?”

  There was pity in her eyes, but not the kind that made me want to clam up and forget the conversation ever happened. She appeared genuinely concerned. There wasn’t a recording device or my parents there to witness my “girlfriend” being kind to me.

  “I don’t remember much of my biological parents,” I said. “To me, my parents are my parents, though. As much as I fight against their wishes, they are the only ones who matter. They saved me from a bad life. While I know I’m living a very different lifestyle now than I might have, I’m lucky to have them.”

  She lifted herself up onto her toes and pressed her lips against my cheek. Her lips were soft, just as smooth as I imagined they would be. “Thank you for telling me.”

  Squeezing my hand, she sent a reassuring pulse through my body. I took a deep breath, and we entered the dining room where fate was waiting for us in the form of three of the most important people in my life. We had to solidify our relationship in front of them so tomorrow wouldn’t be a struggle when we met with many more skeptical people.

  Father and Abir stood up when we entered, more for Sophia than for me.

  Mother’s hands were on her lap, and her eyes were lowered. I ground my teeth together but said nothing, hoping that the conversation over dinner would prove to her that I was “serious” about Sophia. Then, maybe she’d give me at least the hint of her blessing.

  I helped Sophia into her seat and sat in the chair next to her with Father on the other side of me.

  “Good evening, Sophia,” Father said, lifting his water glass to her.

  “Good evening,” she said, placing her napkin in her lap.

  The servants came out with the first course and placed it in front of us.

  I touched Sophia’s hand to keep hers in place, and also, I wanted to touch her again. She had a voracious appetite, but it wasn’t until Father started eating his course that we were allowed to start our own meals.

  When Father started on the first course, I lifted my spoon to signal to Sophia that it was time for us to enjoy our soup.

  “I know you’ve most likely told the story more times than you can count,” Father started. “But tell us how you and Sophia met.”

  I glanced at her, grateful that we’d nailed down this part of the story ahead of time.

  “It’s not the most conventional way,” I said, glancing at Mother. Even though she ate her food, she still hadn’t looked up at any of us. “We met at a pub while she was on assignment in England.”

  Mother clinked her spoon against the bottom of the bowl a little too loudly and let out a small disapproving sound.

  Father glanced at her and then back to me, waving me on to continue.

  I went on with the story that Sophia and I had fabricated. It was a version of the truth. Father wanted to know all the little details, and Sophia and I worked together to fill in the gaps. Between the two of us, we created a story that was fit for a romantic movie—not that I had watched many of them in my lifetime.

  I couldn’t help but notice the stunned silence from Mother’s side of the table. She usually filled the room with her opinions, but today, her reactions—or should I say non-reactions—were startling. Though I supposed whenever I was home, she mostly talked about women she wanted to set me up with, m
aking them appear as if they were the last woman on earth and my very life depended on marrying one of them.

  “Enough about us,” Sophia said, after starting on the second course. “Tell me how the two of you met.”

  Sophia directed the question at Mother. All of us looked in her direction. Her neck must have been sore from looking down for the entire meal.

  Sophia chewed on her lip and continued with her food. A faint blush appeared on Sophia’s cheeks.

  “It was arranged,” Father said.

  I wished he wouldn’t feed into Mother’s childishness.

  As Father gave Sophia a rundown of arranged marriages in our country, I stared at Mother, daring her to look up. I should have known that she wouldn’t. I hoped somehow that she’d feel the weight of my stare.

  Several times throughout dinner, Abir and Father glanced at her, but neither engaged. I considered calling her out but didn’t want to start a fight in front of Sophia. Father would stick up for Mother, and I wasn’t about to split up the family when I had Father and Abir on my side about Sophia.

  The conversation carried on between everyone except for Mother. It would have been the perfect evening if she had engaged with my “girlfriend.” Did she know she was about to lose her son if she continued in this way? I would never forgive her for how she acted, and I would be even more against her when it came to finding me a wife. I’d spend all the money in the world to keep the ruse going, just to piss her off.

  Dinner couldn’t be over soon enough. I’d barely touched any of the courses as I’d been so focused on Mother and how she was acting.

  I did finish dessert, desperate to put something in my stomach, but when the final plates were cleared, I stood up and motioned for Sophia to do the same.

 

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