kept me fairly busy.”
“What kind of consulting?”
“Image and etiquette, mostly. I traveled so extensively as a model that I found I could help companies branch out into unfamiliar foreign markets by teaching them the customs and societal norms of the new country. Other times I help wealthy families groom their daughters into elegant ladies.”
Although families mostly paid her to teach etiquette and poise and give makeovers, she also spent a lot of time trying to teach those same girls that being pretty wasn’t all they had to offer the world. It was an uphill battle and one that had earned her the label “hypocrite” more than a time or two. Sure, it was easy for a supermodel to say that beauty wasn’t everything.
“Do me a favor and don’t mention your consulting business around my father or Juan Carlos,” Gabriel said.
Serafia’s dark eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why is that? Do they have daughters in need of a makeover?” Bella certainly didn’t need any help from her. The youngest Montoro was looking lovely tonight in a beaded blue gown with her golden hair in elegantly twisted curls.
Serafia had heard rumors that the Montoro heirs had been allowed to run wild in America, but from what she had seen, they were no different from the youths of any other royal family. They wanted to have fun, find love and shirk their responsibilities every now and then. Until those desires interfered with the crown, as Rafe’s abdication had, there was no harm done.
Gabriel shook his head and took a large sip of his champagne. “No daughters. They’ve just got me. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d jump at the chance to have you make me over. I don’t really blame them. I’m about to be the most unsuitable king ever to sit upon the throne of Alma. The bad boy…the backup plan…the worst possible choice…”
Her eyes widened with every unpleasant description. “Is that their opinion or just your own?”
He shrugged. “I think it’s everyone’s opinion, including mine.”
“I think you’re exaggerating a little bit. I’m not sure about what your family thinks behind closed doors, but I haven’t heard anything about you being unsuitable. Everyone is surprised about Rafe abdicating, of course, but I just came from Alma and the people are very excited to have you come home and serve as their monarch.”
She hadn’t originally planned on visiting Alma, but she’d gotten a call from a potential client there. She was already coming to Florida to consult with a company in Orlando, so she made a stop in Alma on the way. She was glad she had. It was inspiring to see an entire country buzzing with hope for the future. She wished she saw some of that same excitement in Gabriel.
He narrowed his gaze, seemingly searching her expression for the truth in her words, but he didn’t appear to find it. “That won’t last long. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d start begging for the dictatorship to come back within a year of my reign beginning.”
And Serafia had thought she was the only one around here with miserably low self-esteem. “The people of Alma fought long and hard to be free of the Tantaberras. You would have to be a wicked, bloodthirsty tyrant for them to wish his return. Is that what you have planned? A reign of terror for your people?”
“No. I guess that changes things,” he said with a bright smile that seemed fake. “I didn’t realize they had such low expectations for their king. As long as I don’t decapitate all my enemies and force my subjects to cower in fear, I’ll be a success! Thanks for letting me know that. I feel a lot better about the whole thing now.”
Gabriel was leaving for Alma in a week, and that attitude was going to be a problem. Before she could curb her tongue, Serafia leaned in to him and plucked the champagne glass from his hand. “The citizens of Alma have been through a lot over the last seventy years. While the wealthy upper class could afford to flee, most of the people were trapped there to suffer at the hands of Tantaberra and his sons. They’re finally free, some of them having waited their whole lives to wake up in the morning without the oppressive hand of a despot controlling them. These people have chosen to restore your family to the throne to help them rebuild Alma. They can probably do without your sarcasm and self-pity.”
Gabriel looked at her with surprise lighting his eyes. He might not be comfortable with the authority and responsibility of being king, but he seemed shocked that she would take that tone of voice with him. She didn’t care. She had lived in Spain her whole life. She wasn’t one of his subjects and she wasn’t about to grovel at his feet when he was being like this.
She waited for him to speak, watching as the surprise faded to heat. At first she thought it was anger building up inside him, but when his gaze flicked over her skin, she could feel her cheeks start to burn with the flush of sexual awareness. She might have been too bold and said too much, but he seemed to like it for some reason.
At last, he took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re absolutely right.”
That was not what she’d expected to hear at all. She had braced herself for an argument or maybe even a come-on line to change the subject, but she certainly didn’t think he would agree with her. Perhaps he wasn’t doomed to failure if he could see reason in her words. She returned his glass of champagne and looked out into the garden to avoid his intense stare and hide her blush. “I apologize for being so blunt, but it needed to be said.”
“No, please. Thank you. I have spent the days since my brother’s announcement worried about how it will impact me and my life. I’ve never given full consideration to the lives of all the people in Alma and how they feel. They have suffered, miserably, for so long. They deserve a king they can be proud of. I’m just afraid I’m not that man.”
“You can be,” Serafia said, and as she spoke the words, she believed them. She had no real reason to be so certain about the success of the Montoro Bad Boy. She hadn’t spoken to him in years and he was just a boy then. Now there were only the rumors she’d heard floating across the Atlantic—stories of womanizing, fast cars and dangerous living. But she felt the truth deep in her heart.
“It might take time and practice, but you can get there. A lesser man wouldn’t give a second thought to whether he was the right person for the job. You’re genuinely concerned and I think that bodes well for your future in Alma.”
Gabriel looked at her and for the first time, she noticed the signs of strain lining his eyes. They didn’t entirely mesh with the image that had been painted of the rebellious heir to the throne. He seemed adept at covering his worry with humor and charming smiles, but in that moment it all fell away to reveal a man genuinely concerned that he was going to fail his country. “Do you really believe that?”
Serafia reached out and covered his hand with her own. She felt a warm prickle dance across her palm as her skin touched his. The heat of it traveled up her arm, causing goose bumps to rise across her flesh despite the oppressive Miami summer heat. His gaze remained pinned on her own, an intensity there that made her wonder if he was feeling the same thing. She was startled by her reaction, losing the words of comfort she’d intended to say, but she couldn’t pull away from him.
“Yes,” she finally managed to say in a hoarse whisper.
He nodded, his jaw flexing as he seemed to consider her response. After a moment, he slipped his hand out from beneath hers. Instead of pulling away, he scooped up her hand in his, lifting it as though he was going to kiss her knuckles. Her breath caught in her throat, her tongue snaking out across her suddenly dry lips.
“Serafia,
