He liked her, he thought. He didn’t want to compare her to Angela, but he appreciated her calm assertion of her preferences. And yes, he accepted that he was testing her a bit. Thankfully, she was passing with flying colors.
Damn, he liked her!
He bowed his head slightly as he said, “It appears that I make you nervous. Would you be so kind as to explain why that is?”
Shantra wanted to laugh at the effort he was making to be considerate. He was stilted, but still trying, and for that, she was willing to concede and explain.
“I’m not saying that I’m not…” she looked up at him and swallowed, “attracted to you. I’m just saying that I don’t think a long-term relationship is in either of our best interests. We wouldn't have a very happy marriage and I want that. I’ve seen my brothers and sister in their marriages, and I want the same. They’re all happy. Ridiculously happy and I can’t imagine how you and I could ever have that kind of a relationship.”
“Explain,” he said as he poured the crisp, white wine.
She sighed. “I’ve already explained. I can’t match the exuberance of your first wife. I’m completely the opposite of the kind of woman you prefer. I can’t be that kind of woman.” She set her wine glass down on the table. “And I want a partnership. I want a man who respects and shares with me. So far, you haven’t shared a great deal of your life with me. It’s just been…” she was about to say that it had only been her chattering on about things but thought it would be too ironic and snapped her mouth shut.
“You were saying?” he asked.
“Never mind. We wouldn’t work out together. You don’t know anything about me or what makes me who I am. And I can guarantee that I’m not the social butterfly you’re used to.”
He nodded to the servants to bring in their lunch. When they had once again stepped away, he pulled the chair out for her, waiting until she was seated before seating himself across from her.
“You’re the creative inspiration behind Jesek Designs,” he announced as he cut a bite of his food, ignoring her gasp of surprise that he knew about her work. “Your sister-in-law and a man named Keith Trubin are your partners. Princess Joline manages the operational aspects of the business, Mr. Trubin handles promotions, finds various fabrics, sends them to you and you design around them.” He lifted his wine glass and took a sip. “How am I doing so far?” he asked her.
She shook her head, unable to speak because of her shock.
At her silence, he continued. “Your brother doesn’t know about your business or your interest in fashion design. He and your two other brothers don’t know what is going on under their noses. You continue to present the incorrect façade of a carefree princess to the world, but aren’t ostentatious in your manners or your behavior, so you’ve flown under the radar.” He took a bite of the stuffed mushroom before he continued. “You’ve received four offers of marriage to date, turned them all down for various reasons.”
“Five.”
“The fifth one you’ve accepted.”
“I have not!” she hissed back at him.
“You have. You kissed me.”
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I’ve kissed other men,” she replied defensively. When his eyes snapped up to hers, she shifted in her chair again, not liking the way he was looking at her. “Okay, not the way you kissed me, but that’s beside the point.”
He shook his head. “That’s exactly the point. You’re not like my first wife. Granted. But that’s a good thing. You’ll fit in nicely.”
She put her fork down, no longer hungry but furious with his arrogant announcement. “I’ll fit in nicely with what?” she demanded.
“With my life.”
He sounded like he was trying to buy a sofa! “And why would I care about doing that?”
“So that we will get along in our marriage.”
She shook her head, frustration causing her temper to simmer. “You’re not listening to me, Laithir. We’re not marrying. You’re not the kind of man I want to be tied to for the rest of my life. We don’t agree on anything, so there’s no way that a marriage could be peaceful and productive. We’re completely incompatible.”
He shrugged one of those huge shoulders. “We’re compatible where it counts.”
She looked across the table from him, irritated beyond words. “Please, elaborate on which parts of our personalities could ever get along.”
“In bed,” he told her and took another long sip of his wine, laughing softly when he received the predicted blush on her very lovely cheeks.