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Gambling With the Crown(14)

By:Lynn Raye Harris


                He felt the sting of her rejection as if it were a blow. It stunned him, if he was truthful with himself. Women did not typically refuse him.

                “And why is that? This is a job, Emily. The same as always.”

                “You will forgive me, Your Highness—”

                “Kadir.” He spoke sharply, but he could not seem to help it. For once, he wanted her to call him by his name. For once, he needed to know that he was more to her than a paycheck. It was beyond insane, and yet he’d not felt quite right since he’d spoken with his father earlier.

                It was as if everything he’d known had flipped upside down. As if his life had started out one way this morning—a lifetime ago now—and ended up in a completely different place. He was at the bottom of a pit, trying to find a handhold to pull himself back up again before the walls caved in and crushed him.

                She swallowed. He didn’t think she would say it, but then she did. “Kadir.” Her voice was so small, so quiet, as if she feared that saying his name would call down a bolt of lightning.

                “Was that so difficult then?”

                Her eyes glinted in the dimly lit room. “No.”

                “Good.” He retreated a few steps, gave her space. He sank onto her couch, ignoring the scattered papers. “Do I pay you well, Emily?”

                She moved to one of the chairs set around a small table several feet away and sank down on it as if she feared she would break it. “Yes.”

                “Then you can hardly object if I give you an extra year’s salary once you complete the task. All you need do is pretend to be my wife.”

                Her eyes were wide. “Pretend? We wouldn’t actually be married?”

                “We would, but it won’t be a real marriage. I don’t want you to think I expect anything other than the pretense of devotion.” Because they would need to appear ridiculously besotted with each other for this to work.

                She looked doubtful. “Won’t someone figure it out?”

                “How? We will act our parts.”

                She shook her head. “No one will believe it. Just yesterday, you were with Lenore Bradford. You were probably photographed with her. And now you are marrying me—when, tonight? After you were with Lenore at her party last night?”

                He felt the noose tightening around his neck. “I did not say it was a perfect plan. But we will sell it, Emily.” He twisted the stem of the wineglass in his fingers. “Besides, Kyr isn’t precisely connected to the outside world. Not in the way you would think. It is modern, certainly. But gossip and tabloids are hardly my father’s daily reading material. If I arrive with a wife, a wife who I am clearly crazy about, that will suffice for him.”

                He could see her throat work. “You want to deceive your family?”

                “Yes.”

                “I don’t understand.”

                He sighed and leaned his head back, staring up at the ceiling. She would never understand. And yet he had to make her do so if this were to work. It went against his nature to explain himself, but he had to acknowledge that she could just as easily turn him down if he did not. “It’s about the throne, Emily. I don’t want it.”

                She blinked. “Why not?”