was the one speaking it—he had flown to the States to meet the young woman.
It had been clear to him immediately that at the age of sixteen Hannah already possessed great potential. Despite the eight-year age difference, he found her undeniably attractive. And he could see that the feeling was mutual. And even better, were he to acquiesce, it would keep his parents off his back. At his own request, future meetings were arranged, and plans for a courtship were set in motion.
By eighteen she had blossomed into a woman of exceptional beauty and poise, and their feelings had matured from ones of sexual curiosity to intense physical attraction.
She was everything a king could want in a mate, and right now her innocence, her eagerness to please, appealed to him. Sadly, he was easily bored and quite sure that the novelty would soon wear off.
“Do you think she has the slightest clue what she’s getting herself into?” Sophie asked.
“The slightest.” There was only so much she could learn from a book or a tutor. The rest would come through experience.
“While I have you here, I was hoping to have a word with you.”
He felt an argument coming on. “If this is about what I think it’s about—”
“He’s our brother. You could at least hear him out.”
“Half brother,” he said firmly. A product of their father’s infidelity. “I owe him nothing.”
“What he is proposing would ensure the stability of our empire for generations.”
“And his own, no doubt.”
She looked at him as though he were loony. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“If it’s the crown that concerns you, he wants no part of it.”
Not unlike Sophie, he thought, who had spent the better part of her twenty-five years expressing her dislike of the monarchy’s rules. But in the case of their half brother, Ethan Rafferty, their father’s blood ran through his veins. As a result, he did have a claim to the crown. If something were to happen to Phillip, he would be next in line.
For Phillip, that was unacceptable.
“I won’t discuss this,” Phillip told her. “Period.”
Her cheeks flushed with frustration. “Bloody hell, you’re stubborn!”
She was one to talk. “That distinction, dear Sophie, is not limited to me.”
The door to the powder room opened, and Hannah emerged. Grateful for the interruption, he crossed the room to meet her. “Feeling better?”
Hannah nodded. “I think I’m ready to do this. And I’m sorry again for getting so freaked out.”
“Were you?” Sophie asked from behind him. “I’m quite sure no one noticed.”
Hannah cracked an appreciative smile. The first one he had seen since she arrived.
He offered his arm to her. “Shall I escort you?”
She looked from his arm to the door, then took a deep breath. “I appreciate the offer, but I think that after what happened outside, it’s important that I stand on my own two feet.”
“As you wish.” He opened the door for her and watched, feeling an unexpected surge of pride as she swept out into the foyer.
Sophie stepped up beside him and, in a quiet voice, said, “Impressive.”
“Indeed.”
“You think she’s ready for this?”
He nodded, and said with genuine honesty, “I do.”
“I agree,” she said. “The real question, Your Highness, is are you ready for her?”
This day turned out to be, by far, the most demanding, frightening and exciting in Hannah’s life. After the receiving line, which in itself took the better part of an hour, they attended a luncheon in her honor. Following a meal she had been too self-conscious to do more than pick at, she and the king mingled with dozens of state officials and their spouses. So many, in fact, that remembering all of their names would take nothing short of a miracle.
After lunch there was a photo shoot in the garden, followed by a short press conference in which she and the king were bombarded by the reporters with questions of her background and education, how she felt about becoming queen, their upcoming nuptials and the plans for the gala to celebrate the country’s 500th anniversary.
To stand beside the king, to feel the air of confidence and supremacy all but spilling from his pores, was as fascinating as it was intimidating. He was the most powerful man in the country and he embraced the designation. And for what wasn’t the first time that day, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d gotten in way over her head. Years of training and preparation and still she felt overwhelmed. She knew though, had her father been there, he would have been so proud of her, and that was all that mattered.
She endured another exhausting evening meal shared with a new blur of names and faces she barely had a hope of remembering, although there was one woman she recognized from earlier in the day. And only because of the way she watched Hannah so intently. She was dark and very beautiful, close to Hannah’s age, if not a year or two older. She had the kind of voluptuous figure that turned men’s heads. Hannah considered going to talk to her, but that would require leaving Phillip’s side, and she wasn’t ready to do that yet. But every time Hannah looked her way, the woman was watching. Shamelessly and blatantly. But just as Hannah began to feel uncomfortable, the woman vanished. She craned her neck, checking every corner of the room, but didn’t see her.
That was odd. And she couldn’t shake the feeling she had imagined her.
After another hour of small talk and chatter, the king finally bid the guests good-night and offered to escort Hannah to her suite.
She was so exhausted, the thought of collapsing into bed made her want to weep with relief.
Offering his arm, Phillip led her to the private residence at the north end of the palace. Though it may have been used only by the family and limited staff, it was no less luxurious than the common areas. More modern, and not nearly so formal, but dripping in extravagance and style. Her parents’ estate in Seattle was by no means small, but wealth of this magnitude was foreign to her.
It would take some getting used to.
The instant they were inside with the door closed, he unfastened the button at the collar of his jacket and, just like that, transformed back into the less intimidating version of himself—the compassionate man who had whisked her up the palace steps and inside to the sanctuary of the library.
“You did well today,” he told her.
“To be honest, it’s all a bit of a blur.” And all she could comprehend at the present moment was the pain in her feet. The desperate need to kick out of the pumps the salesgirl had assured her would spare her any discomfort. Like walking
