The Scorsolini Marriage Bargain. Lucy Monroe

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      She landed in New York later that evening, her nerves stretched to screaming point. She’d spent the entire flight going over in her head what she was going to say to Claudio, but she couldn’t get past the first sally because every time she thought about him agreeing that their marriage should be dissolved, her throat clogged with tears.

      She had asked security not to alert her husband to her intention to join him. For some reason, she felt the element of surprise might be on her side. She was informed he was at the hotel preparing for a dinner meeting when her plane landed. It seemed fortuitous and she hoped it boded well for the meeting to come.

      Her eyes barely registered the opulence of the oversize suite when security let her inside. She was too busy trying to control her tortured emotions.

      Claudio was tying his tie when she walked into the bedroom.

      “Hello, caro.”

      His big body jerked, blatant testament to how shocked he was by her presence. Then his head snapped up, his dark eyes zeroing in on her with physical intensity. “Therese, what are you doing here?”

      “You said you’d like it if I was.”

      “You are not here because of my phone call this morning.” His expression dared her to contradict him…to lie.

      “No, I’m not. We need to talk.”

      “Do we?”

      “Yes,” she said, trying to ignore the fact that his expression was about as welcoming as an accountant faced with a tax auditor.

      “I suppose you have something you have to confess that has weighed on your conscience long enough,” he said in a voice that dripped in ice.

      She didn’t know what triggered his hostility, except maybe that she’d changed her schedule. Claudio didn’t like surprises and he had a worse one coming.

      “You could put it that way.” She couldn’t even assure him it was nothing bad because it was.

      In a marriage like theirs, it was a death knell and nothing less.

      Claudio went back to what he was doing with cold precision. “It will have to wait. I have a dinner meeting.”

      “Can you cancel it?”

      “You mean like you obviously canceled all of your obligations so you could fly up here and have a conversation that surely could have waited the three days it would take me to get home?”

      “Yes.” She didn’t care how he made it sound. That was exactly what she wanted.

      “That’s not going to happen.”

      “Would it really be so terrible?”

      “Obviously you do not consider it so, but I do not appreciate my wife letting down her obligations and therefore me.”

      “And are our duties the only thing that matter in our life together?”

      “Duty must come first. At one time, I believe you understood this.”

      “Is that why you married me?”

      “You already know it was one of the primary reasons I decided you would suit me well as a wife. Your parents could not have raised you more suitably for the life of a princess if they had been royalty themselves.”

      That reminder was as unwelcome as it was painful. For she better than anyone knew how carefully her parents had raised her. Her father with the hopes she would pursue a political career and her mother with the desire to live her life’s ambitions through her daughter. Neither had ever cared what dreams beat in Therese’s heart.

      “My appreciation for duty was my main attraction to you…and of course the fact that I was physically compatible with you,” she said, long denied hurt coming out as bitterness.

      “Would you have expected me to marry a woman who did not understand or fit the role of princess and future queen?”

      “Your brothers weren’t so worried about suitability when they chose their wives,” she reminded him.

      “As I said last night, I am not my brothers.”

      “No, you are the crown prince, which means duty must come first, last and always with you.”

      “You knew this when we married. It is not something I expect to be raised as an issue of contention now.”

      “You don’t expect anything to be raised as an issue of contention.”

      “How perceptive of you to realize that.” He pulled on his black dinner jacket. “As scintillating as this conversation is, I must go or I will be late.”

      “Just like that? I fly all the way from Isole dei Re and you walk out on an important conversation because your damn schedule demands it?” How was she going to tell this cold-faced stranger anything, much less the intimate details of her latest doctor’s visit?

      “Do not swear at me,” he said, contriving to sound shocked.

      She said a truly foul word. “You mean like that?”

      “I do not know what your problem is, but I suggest you get over it. I will be back quite late. If you still feel the need to discuss whatever it is you think is so important, we can talk then.”

      “And if I don’t feel like waiting?”

      “You have no choice.”

      “When have I ever?”

      “You made a choice to marry me. No one forced you to speak your vows. If they are chafing now, please remember, you have no one but yourself to blame for your circumstances and I will not tolerate you dismissing your promises or your duty as my wife as easily as you did your duties as a princess this morning.”

      “They’re pretty much the same thing, aren’t they?” she asked in a voice filled with angry pain.

      “No.” His gaze seared her. “You have personal obligations to me that have nothing to do with your responsibility to the crown.”

      He meant sex, she was sure…but he was wrong. That aspect of their marriage was as wrapped up in her role as princess as everything else. Because it was supposed to result in an heir to the throne and it wasn’t going to.

      “Maybe I’m feeling unsure about all of my obligations right now.”

      Fury filled Claudio’s gaze, but his voice was controlled and even when he spoke. “I suggest you get sure of them by the time I return to the suite tonight.”

      “And if I don’t?” she dared to taunt.

      “Then it will be a very unpleasant night for us both, but I warn you…my weapons are and will always be superior to yours.”

      “You are so damm arrogant, Claudio.” She sighed, her anger draining away. “Anyway, don’t be so sure my weapons can’t

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