At His Majesty's Convenience (9 page)

What a shame she'd enjoyed it so much. Right now she wanted to chastise her body for still craving his touch. She should hate him for what he'd done when she needed his help the most.

Jake still stood there, calm and regal, chin lifted high.

A sinister thought crept over her. If he could plan something so outrageous as marriage to a woman who didn't know who she was, perhaps he contrived to put her in such a vulnerable position.

“Were you responsible for me losing my memory?” If he'd gone this far in his deception, who knew what he could be capable of?

“No.” His answer was decisive.

She wanted to believe him—and hated herself for it.

“Then what did happen?” So many pieces were still missing.

“I don't know how you lost your memory. I found you outside dancing around on the grass in the moonlight.”

Andi blushed. Had she done anything embarrassing? She couldn't remember a single thing about that night. Though now that he mentioned it, she did remember telling him she was going to leave. A cold sensation slithered through her. She was leaving to protect her heart.

Right now her heart was being flayed open. Jake's desire to keep her had nothing to do with him wanting her as his fiancée, or even his friend, and everything to do with keeping his office running smoothly.

And he'd seduced her into his bed on the pretext that they'd been dating for years.

Her insides still hummed with sense memories that would probably torment her forever. She'd thought they were making love—and her whole spirit had soared with the joy of it—but he was just cementing a deal.

On instinct she pulled the big ring from her finger. It wedged a bit over the knuckle, but she managed to get it off. “Take this back.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, no. You must wear it.”

“I don't have to do anything.” She shoved it forward. “It's not real.”

“I assure you those stones are genuine and worth a large sum of money.”

Andi's mouth fell open, then closed shut. How could he not understand a word she was saying? She walked to
his desk and put the ring down on the polished surface. It looked odd there, sparkling away amongst the piles of papers.

“I don't intend to wear or own any kind of engagement ring unless I'm actually engaged. And since we're not really engaged or even involved, I don't want anything to do with it.” Tears threatened in her voice. She crossed her arms, and hoped it would hide the way her hands were shaking.

“But we are engaged.” Jake's words, spoken softly, crept into her brain and heart. “I really do want to marry you.”

Andi blinked, trying to catch her breath. How could a dream come true in such a horrible, distorted way?

The odd expression in his eyes almost made her consider it. There was something like…yearning in their dark depths.

Then again, she was obviously good at dreaming stuff up.

Now that her memory was back she knew—in the depths of her aching soul—that she'd loved Jake for years, pined for him and hoped that one day he'd see her as something other than an efficient assistant. She'd adored him in silence, occasionally allowing herself to fantasize that things might one day be different if she waited patiently for him to notice her. Their time as an engaged couple was the fulfillment of all secret hopes—and now she'd woken to find herself living a mockery of her cherished dreams.

Anger flared inside her, hot and ugly. “You honestly think I would continue with this charade that you sprung on me when I was at my most vulnerable? To let people think that we love each other when we're nothing more than boss and assistant, as always?”

“We'll be equals, of course, like any couple.”

He said it simply, like he really believed it. But then Jake could convince anyone of anything. She'd watched
him in action for too long. “I'm not sure that many couples are equals, especially royal ones.” She'd be the official wife, sensibly dressed and courteous as always. The one who got left behind with her embroidery—not that she did embroidery—while he was out having affairs with other women.

“I need to leave, and right now.” If she continued with this pretense for even another hour, she'd get sucked into hoping their official engagement might turn into true romance. Even with every shred of evidence pointing to that being impossible and hopeless, she'd already proven herself to be that kind of softheaded, dreaming fool.

“The story's gone around the world already.”

She steadied herself with a breath. All her relatives knew, probably all her old friends. Everyone she'd ever known, maybe. “You'll just have to explain that it was all a big lie. Or a joke.” Her voice cracked on the last word. It did feel like a cruel joke at her expense. She'd never experienced such feelings of happiness and contentment as during the last couple of days as Jake's fiancée. Their night of lovemaking had raised the bar of pure bliss so high that she'd likely never know anything like that again.

“I'm going to pack my bags.” She turned for the door. Her whole body was shaking.

Jake caught hold of her arm and she tried to wrench it away, but his grip was too strong. “The people of Ruthenia are counting on you. I'm counting on you.”

His words pierced her soul for a second, but she summoned her strength. “I'm sure the people of Ruthenia can find something else to count on. Television game shows, perhaps.”

“We're going to be on television tonight. To talk about celebrating our engagement during the Independence Day celebrations.”

Andi froze. “Independence Day. That's what this is all about, isn't it?” She turned and stared at his face. A memory of Jake's public promise to choose a wife formed in her mind. “You committed to picking a bride before Ruthenia's third Independence Day.” She squinted at him, looking for signs of emotion in his face. “Your deadline had come right up on you and you had to pick someone or you'd be a liar. And there I was, clueless as a newborn babe and ripe for duping.”

“Andi, we've been partners for years. It's not that big a leap.”

“From the office to a lifetime commitment? I think that's a leap. You can't just get a plane ticket and leave a marriage.” She lifted her chin as anger and hurt flashed over her. “Though apparently I can't just get a plane ticket and leave my job with you, either.” Fury bubbled up inside her. “Do you think you can control everything and everyone?”

“I'm not trying to control you, just to make you see sense. We're a great team.”

“I've never been into team sports. When I marry, it will be for love.” Her heart ached at the thought that she'd loved Jake almost since the day she met him.

Though right now she hated him for tricking her into a relationship that meant nothing to him.

“Think it over, Andi. Be sensible.”

“I am sensible. That's why I know this would never work.”

Jake's expression grew impenetrable. “Stay until after Independence Day, at least.”

“You think I'll change my mind? Or maybe you think I'll just be guilt-tripped into marrying you by seeing all those smiling Ruthenian faces. What if people don't like the idea of you marrying your lowly assistant? They'd
probably rather see you marry some Ruthenian blue blood with twelve names.”

“They'll all know I made the right choice.”

His words hung in the air.
The right choice.

Impossible.

Still, his quiet conviction both irked and intrigued her.

She stared hard at his chiseled face. “You really do want to marry me?”

He took her hands in his. Her skin tingled and sizzled, and she cursed the instant effect he always had on her. “I do want to marry you.”

Those accursed hopes and dreams flared up inside her like embers under a breath.

He doesn't love you. Don't get carried away.

Still, maybe something could come of this crazy situation. Could she live with herself if she didn't at least try to make it work?

She inhaled a shaky breath. “If I agree to stay until Independence Day, then decide it won't work, you'll let me go?”

His expression clouded. “Yes.”

She wasn't sure she believed him. Jake didn't often admit, or experience, defeat. But she could always sneak away this time.

Or stay here for the rest of her life.

Her heart thumped and her stomach felt queasy. “I can't really believe this is happening. We'll sleep in separate rooms?”

“If you prefer.” His cool reply sounded like a challenge. He probably intended to seduce her again. She silently determined not to let him.

“Independence Day is three days away.” Could she stand to be Jake's unloved but practical fiancée for seventy-two hours? She really didn't want to let everyone down and ruin
the Independence Day celebrations. She could look at it as her job, as long as there was no kissing or sex involved.

And then there was that insane hope that they really could live happily ever after.

Jake picked up the ring from among the papers on his desk. “You'll need this.”

Andi eyed it suspiciously. Putting the ring back on would mean agreeing to his terms. Clearly he expected her to, and why wouldn't he? She'd always done everything he asked in the past.

He picked up her hand without asking permission. Her skin heated instantly at his touch and she made the mistake of looking up into his face. His dark gaze dared her to refuse him—and she knew in that instant that she couldn't.

Why did he still have so much power over her?

She was disoriented right now. Confused. Her memory slipping and sliding back into her head while she tried to take in the strange new reality of Jake wanting to marry her.

Wanting to
marry
her.

It should be a dream come true—so why did it feel more like a waking nightmare?

T
he following afternoon, Andi adjusted the collar of her new and fabulously expensive dress. Fit for a queen. The rack of designer clothes had arrived with a coordinator from Ruthenia's most snooty bespoke tailor to help her choose the right look and make any necessary alterations.

She'd tried not to tremble when the seamstress stuck pins in around her waist and bust. Now the freshly sewn green fabric draped over her like a second skin of luxurious silk.

But did she look like a future queen? She'd be paraded on TV as one tonight. RTV was setting up cameras in the ballroom to interview her and Jake. She'd tried to beg off and delay any public appearances until after she'd made her decision, but endless calls from the television station had hounded her into it and at this point she'd appear snooty and uncooperative if she said no again.

“Earrings.” A representative from the jeweler where
they'd bought the ring opened a case filled with sparkly gems. Andi hadn't even noticed her come in, but then people were coming and going in a constant scurry, preparing for the evening shoot. The earrings blurred into a big shiny mass.

“You choose.” Andi didn't even want to look at them. Better to let these professionals decide whether she looked like a future queen or not.

She certainly didn't feel like one.

Was it her job to act this part? It felt more like her patriotic duty. Which was silly since she was American, not Ruthenian. At least until she married Jake.

If she married Jake.

She tried to keep her breathing steady as the girl clipped big emeralds to her ears and murmured, “Perfect.” The seamstress nodded her approval and beckoned across the room.

A middle-aged woman with a blond pompadour and a rat-tail comb approached with a gleam in her eye. She picked up a strand of Andi's limp hair between her thumb and finger and winced slightly. “Don't worry. We can fix it.”

Thirty minutes later her hair hung around her shoulders in plump curls that everyone assured her looked “lovely.” The woman staring back at her from the mirror, wide-eyed and pale beneath her carefully applied makeup, didn't even look like her. She'd barely managed to remember who she was, and now she was being turned into someone else.

“Andi, can you come in for a moment? They want to check the lighting.”

She steadied herself and walked—slowly in her long, rather heavy dress—toward the formal library where the cameras were set up.

Jake was nowhere to be seen.

It's your job,
she told herself. Just be professional. Being a monarch's fiancée definitely felt more like a career assignment than a romantic dream come true.

Strangers' hands shuffled her into place under blistering hot lights that made her blink. More powder was dotted on her nose and fingers fluffed her curls. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the local news anchor going over some notes with a producer. What kind of questions would they ask?

I won't lie.

She promised herself that. This whole situation was so confusing already; she had no intention of making it worse by having to keep track of stories. She'd try to be tactful and diplomatic, of course.

Just part of the job.

A sudden hush fell over the room and all eyes turned to the door. His majesty. Jake strode in, a calm smile on his face. Andi's heartbeat quickened under her designer gown. Fear as well as the familiar desire. Would she manage to act the role of fiancée well enough to please him?

She cursed herself for wanting to make him happy. He hadn't given her feelings any thought when he'd tricked her into wearing his ring.

Their eyes met and a jolt of energy surged through her.
I really do want to marry you.
His words echoed in her brain, tormenting and enticing. How could she not at least give it a shot?

A producer settled them both on the ornate gilt-edged sofa under the lights, in full view of three cameras. Andi felt Jake's hand close around hers, his skin warm. She almost wished he wouldn't touch her, as she didn't want him to know she was shaking and that her palms were sweating.

No aspect of her job had ever made her so terrified. She'd greeted foreign dignitaries and handled major international
incidents without so much as a raised pulse. Why did every move she made now feel like a matter of life and death?

Silence descended as the interviewer moved toward them, microphone clipped to her blue suit. Andi's heart pounded.

I won't lie.

But Jake didn't have to know that.

“Your Majesty, thank you so much for agreeing to this interview.” Jake murmured an assent. “And for allowing us to meet your fiancée.” The journalist smiled at Andi.

She tried not to shrink into the sofa. Yesterday morning she'd been totally comfortable and happy as Jake's fiancée. It had felt as natural as breathing. But now everything was different and she'd been dropped into the middle of a movie set—with no script.

The reporter turned her lipsticked smile to Andi. “You're living every young girl's dream.”

“Yes,” she stammered.
Except in the dream the prince actually loves you.
“I still can't believe it.”

No lies told so far.

“Was the proposal very romantic?”

Andi grew hyperconscious of Jake's hand wrapped around hers. She drew in a breath. “I was so stunned I don't remember a word of it.”

The reporter laughed, and so did Jake. Andi managed a smile.

“I guess the important part is that you said yes.” The reporter turned to Jake. “Perhaps you could tell us about the moment.”

Andi stared at Jake. Would he make something up? He'd lied to her when he'd told her they were engaged. Unless a king could become engaged simply by an act of will.

“It was a private moment between myself and Andi.” He
turned to look at her. Then continued in a low voice. “I'm very happy that she's agreed to be my wife.”

Until Independence Day. He was obviously confident he'd convince her to stay after that, but as she sat here under the lights with people staring at her and analyzing every move she made, she became increasingly sure she'd couldn't handle this.

It would have been different if Jake wanted to marry her for the right reasons and she could look forward to true intimacy and companionship, at least when they were alone together.

But she'd never been enough for him before, and she was painfully sure that she wouldn't be enough for him now—ring or no ring.

“What a lovely ring.” Andi's hand flinched slightly under the reporter's gaze. “A fitting symbol for a royal romance.”

Yes. All flash and pomp.
“Thanks. We bought it right here in town. The local village has such skilled craftspeople.”

“I think it's charming that you chose the work of a Ruthenian artisan, when you could so easily have bought something from New York or Paris.”

“Both Andi and I are proud of Ruthenia's fine old-world craftsmanship. It's one of the few places where attention to detail is more important than turning a quick profit. Some people might see our steady and deliberate approach to things as a hindrance in the modern world of business, but I see them as strengths that will secure our future.”

Andi maintained a tight smile. He was turning their engagement interview into a promotional video for Ruthenia. Something she would have heartily approved of only a few days ago, but now made her heart contract with pain.

With his “steady and deliberate” approach to marriage,
he expected her to devote her life to Ruthenia and fulfill the role of royal wife, whether he loved her or not.

Andi startled when she realized the reporter was staring right at her. She'd obviously just asked a question, but Andi was so caught up in her depressing ruminations that she hadn't even heard it. Jake squeezed her hand and jumped in. “Andi will be making all the wedding arrangements. In our years of working together she's proved that she can pull off the most elaborate and complicated occasions.”

He went on to talk about Ruthenian wedding traditions and how they'd be sure to observe and celebrate them.

What about my family traditions?
Andi remembered her cousin Lu's wedding two summers ago. A big, fat Greek wedding in every sense of the word. What if she wanted to celebrate her mom's Greek heritage as well as Jake's Ruthenian roots?

Not a chance. Just one more example of how her life would slide into a faded shadow of Jake's.

But only if she let it.

Resolve kicked through her on a surge of adrenaline. She didn't have to do anything she didn't want to. “Of course, we'll also honor our American roots and bring those into our planning. I have ancestors from several different countries and we'll enjoy bringing aspects of that heritage into our wedding.”

The reporter's eyes widened. Jake was so big on being all Ruthenian all the time, trying to prove that despite his New York upbringing, every cell in his blue blood was Ruthenian to the nucleus. Right now she couldn't resist knocking that. If he wanted a Ruthenian bride there was no shortage of volunteers.

But he'd chosen an American one. She smiled up at him sweetly. His dark eyes flashed with surprise. “Of course. Andi's right. Our American background and experience
have enriched our lives and we'll certainly be welcoming many American friends to the wedding.”

Andi felt his arm slide around her shoulders. She tried not to shiver at the feel of his thick muscle through her dress. “And now, if you don't mind, we have a lot to do to prepare for the Independence Day celebrations this week. Our third Independence Day marks a turning point for our nation, with our gross national product up and unemployment now at a fifty-year low. We hope everyone will join us in a toast to Ruthenia's future.”

He circled his arm around her back, a gesture both protective and possessive. Andi cursed the way it stirred sensation in her belly and emotion in her heart. The reporter frowned slightly at being summarily dismissed, but made some polite goodbye noises and shook their hands.

Andi let out a long, audible sigh once the cameras finally turned off.

Jake escorted her from the room, and it wasn't until they were in the corridor outside that he loosened his grip on her arm slightly. “Nice point about our American heritage.”

She wasn't sure if he was kidding or not. “I thought so.” She smiled. “I'm kind of surprised you decided to pick an American wife. I was sure you'd marry a Ruthenian so you could have some ultra-Ruthenian heirs.”

An odd expression crossed his face for a second. Had he forgotten about the whole royal heir thing? This engagement scenario seemed rather by-the-seat-of-the-pants; maybe he didn't think it through enough. Did he really want a Heinz 57 American girl from Pittsburgh to be the mother of Ruthenia's future king?

“Being Ruthenian is more a state of mind than a DNA trait.” He kept his arm around her shoulders as they marched along the hall.

“Kind of like being king?” She arched a brow. “Though I
suppose that does require the right DNA or there'd be other claimants. The only way most Ruthenians can claim the throne is by marrying you. I guess I should be honored.”

Jake turned to stare at her. She never usually talked back to him. Of course she didn't—he was her boss. Maybe once he discovered the real, off-hours Andi had a bit more spunk to her he'd lose all interest in hoisting her up onto his royal pedestal.

“I don't expect you to be honored.” Humor sparkled in Jake's dark eyes. Did nothing rile him? “Just to think about the advantages of the situation.”

“The glorious future of Ruthenia,” she quipped.

“Exactly.”

“What if I miss Philly cheesesteak?”

“The cook can prepare some.”

“No way. She's from San Francisco. She'd put bean sprouts in it.”

“We'll import it.”

“It'd go cold on the plane.”

“We'll fly there to get some.”

“Is that fiscally responsible?”

He laughed. “See? You're a woman after my own heart.”

“Cold and calculating?” She raised a brow.

“I prefer to think of it as shrewd and pragmatic.” He pulled his arm from around her to reach into his pocket and she noticed they were at the door to his suite. She stiffened. She did not want to go in there and wind up in his bed again. Especially if it was the result of some shrewd and pragmatic seduction on his part.

The intimacy they'd shared left her feeling tender and raw. Probably because she'd always loved him and the act of making love only intensified everything she'd already felt. Now that she knew he didn't love her—that it was a
mechanical act for him—she couldn't bear to be that close to him again.

“I guess I'll head for my room.” She glanced down at her ridiculously over-the-top interview dress. “Am I supposed to give this dress to someone?”

“You're supposed to wear it to the state dinner tonight.”

State dinner? She didn't remember planning any dinner. In fact she remembered deliberately not planning anything for the first few days after she intended to leave. “Maybe my memory isn't fully back yet, but I…” It was embarrassing to admit she still wasn't in full control of her faculties.

“Don't worry, you had nothing to do with it. I pulled the whole thing together to butter up all the people cheesed off by our engagement.”

“That's a daring use of dairy metaphors.”

Jake grinned. “Thanks. I'm a man of many talents.”

If only I weren't so vividly aware of that.
She sure as heck wished she'd never slept with him. That was going to be very hard to forget.

“So let me guess, all your recently jilted admirers, and their rich and influential daddies, will be gathered around the table in the grand dining room to whisper rude remarks about me.” Her stomach clenched at the prospect.