the desk. ‘What can I do for you, Luisa?’ It was the first time she’d sought him out.
Clear blue eyes met his and he felt that now-familiar frisson of anticipation.
‘I’ve come to tell you I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.’
Raul breathed deep as the knot of tension that had screwed his belly tight for so long loosened.
He’d manipulated her into coming here. He’d overseen a new look for her, introduced her to his people in such a way she’d be cornered by their expectations, and still he hadn’t been sure he could go through with it. Force her into marriage.
Despite his determination and his desperation, doubts had preyed on him.
‘What made you change your mind?’
She shrugged. ‘Does it matter?’
Raul opened his mouth. Part of him believed it did. The part that wanted to know Luisa better, her thoughts and feelings. The part of him, he supposed, that had made him emotionally susceptible all those years ago. The part he’d thought he’d erased from his being.
He shook his head. What mattered was her agreement.
‘I thought not.’ Her eyes blazed with what might have been anger. Then, in a moment, the look was gone.
He took her hand in his. She didn’t resist.
‘I promise you, Luisa, I will do everything in my power to ensure you never regret this.’ His skin grew tight over tense muscles as he thought of the enormity of her decision. Of all it meant for him and his people.
He lifted her hand to his lips.
‘You will have my gratitude and my loyalty.’ Her flesh was cool, her expression shuttered and yet he felt the trembling pulse at her wrist. He inhaled her delicate scent. Something far stronger than gratitude stirred in his belly.
‘You owe me more.’
Startled, he raised his head. She slipped her hand free and clasped it in her other palm as if it pained her.
‘What do you want?’
She’d almost convinced him she didn’t care for wealth and glamour. Now suspicion rose. He should have known better. Hadn’t Ana taught him anything? What was her price?
‘I want …’ She paused and gestured abruptly with one hand. ‘I don’t want to be treated as some brainless doll. As far as possible, I want to make my own decisions. Don’t expect to dictate to me.’
Raul took in the defiant glimmer in her eyes, the determined jut of her chin and felt the tension leach away.
No unreasonable demands? No tantrums or tears?
Pride stirred, and respect for this remarkable woman.
Perhaps after all Luisa was as unique as she seemed.
His lips curved in a smile of genuine pleasure. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’
Raul saw Luisa led past the royal councillors, across the vast reception room. The soon-to-be-Princess of Ardissia was quietly elegant in shades of caramel and cream. Her back was straight and her chin up as if unfazed by the presence of so many august people. Yet she was pale and there was a brittle quality to her composure that made his brow knot.
Guilt pinched. A few days ago she’d been leading a completely different life. Had he been right to move so fast to cement this arrangement?
Raul stiffened, refusing to follow that line of thought. This was for the best. For the good of the nation. The alternative would plunge the country into chaos.
The sooner this was done the better.
He strode across the room, silently berating himself for getting sidetracked by urgent negotiations. He’d meant to support her as she entered the room.
He’d nearly reached her at the ornate desk when she saw him and started. Disappointment flared. This wasn’t the first time she’d reacted as if his touch contaminated.
It took a moment to realise that in flinging out an arm involuntarily Luisa had knocked over the baccarat crystal inkwell. Black liquid sprayed across the hand woven heirloom carpet and his suit.
The room inhaled a collective gasp. In a moment Luisa had ripped blotting paper from the embossed blotter on the desk and dropped to her knees, soaking up the stain.
Servants rushed to assist but she didn’t notice. ‘We need something to soak this up.’
Raul dragged a pristine handkerchief from his pocket and hunkered beside her. ‘Will this help?’
‘Not much.’ Her words were crisp. ‘But it’s better than nothing.’ The snowy cloth joined the dark pulpy mass on the carpet.
‘Excuse me, ma’am. Ma’am?’ One of the senior staff appeared with materials to clear the worst of the mess.
‘Luisa.’ Raul took her elbow, gripping tight enough to make her look up. ‘The staff will deal with this.’
She opened her mouth as if to protest, then looked over his shoulder, eyes widening. As if she’d only just remembered every member of the High Court, the royal advisors and sundry VIPs here to witness the formalities.
Heat flooded her face and she looked away. Gently he drew her to her feet.
She felt surprisingly fragile beneath his touch. Not like the woman who’d seduced him witless with just a kiss, or the proud woman who’d agreed to marry him.
‘I’m sorry.’ She watched the staff deal with a stain that was probably immovable, worrying at her lower lip.
‘It’s all right,’ he murmured, leading her away to the other side of the desk.
‘But the carpet! It’s old and valuable, surely?’ Her hands clenched tight.
‘No such thing. It’s amazing how well they make reproductions these days.’
He heard his butler’s breath hiss at the blithe lie. In Raul’s father’s day, damaging an heirloom like this would have resulted in severe punishment. But, seeing Luisa’s distress, feeling her arm tremble beneath his hold, Raul didn’t give a damn about anything but allaying her guilt.
‘Come,’ he said. ‘Here’s a seat for you.’
She sank into the chair and Raul swept the blotter aside, motioning for the accession document to be brought forward. Reaching in his jacket, he withdrew his own pen.
Maritz needed to move with the times. There was absolutely no need to continue the tradition of signing and witnessing important documents with old-fashioned ink pens.
Lukas presented the document which, when signed, would confirm Luisa as Princess of Ardissia, inheritor of her grandfather’s wealth. And Raul’s wife-to-be.
It was spread wide on the desk and the witnesses stepped forward. Raul handed her
