Prince of Scandal (3 page)

Indignation danced in his veins and tightened his fists.

Something motivated her that he didn’t know about. He needed to discover what it was. More, he had to discover the trigger that would make her change her mind.

For an instant back there he’d been tempted simply to
kidnap her. The blood of generations of warriors and robber barons as well as monarchs flowed in his veins. It would have been easy to scoop her up in his arms and sequester her till she saw reason.
So satisfying.

An image of Luisa Hardwicke filled his mind. She stared defiantly up with flashing cerulean eyes.

Raul recalled her shirt lifting when she reached for a glass, revealing her lusciously curved bottom in snug jeans. The feminine shape outlined by her shirt when she moved. A shape at odds with his original impression.

Fire streaked through Raul’s belly.

Perhaps there would be compensations after all.

Luisa Hardwicke had a wholesome prettiness that appealed far more than it ought. He’d made it his business these last eight years to surround himself only with glamorous, sophisticated women who understood his needs.

He grimaced, facing a truth he rarely acknowledged. That if he’d once had a weakness it had been for the sort of forthright honesty and fresh openness she projected.

The sort he’d once believed in.

Sordid reality had cured him of any such frailty. Yet being with her was like hearing an echo of his past, remembering fragments of dreams he’d once held. Dreams now shattered beyond repair by deceit and betrayal.

And, despite his indignation, he responded to her pride, her pluck.

It was an inconvenience that complicated his plans. Yet perversely he admired the challenge she represented. What a change from the compliant, eager women he knew! In other circumstances he’d applaud her stance.

Besides, he saw now, a spineless nonentity would never have been suitable for what was to come. Or so surprisingly appealing.

Raul tugged his mind back to business. He needed a lever to ensure she saw sense. Failure wasn’t an option when his nation depended on him.

‘Lukas, you said the farming co-op is in debt?’

‘Yes sir, heavily so. I’m amazed it’s still running.’

Raul looked back at the tiny speck that was her home. A sliver of regret pierced him. He’d wanted to avoid coercion but she left him no choice.

‘Buy the debts. Immediately. I want it settled today.’

The roar of a helicopter brought Luisa’s head up.

It couldn’t be.
After rejecting her inheritance yesterday there was no reason for her path and Prince Raul’s to cross again. Yet she was drawn inexorably to the window. It couldn’t be but it was. Prince Raul—here!

To Luisa’s annoyance, her heart pattered faster as she watched his long, powerful frame vault from the chopper.

Twenty-four hours had given her time to assure herself he wasn’t nearly as imposing as she remembered.

She’d been wrong.

Luisa had searched him on the web yesterday, learning his reputation for hard work and wealth. The reports also referred to discreet liaisons with gorgeous women.

Yet no photos did justice to his impact in the flesh. Her breath caught as he loped up the steps. Good thing she was immune.

‘Luisa.’ He stood before her, wide shoulders filling the open doorway, his voice smooth like dark chocolate with a hint of spice as he lingered on her name.

A tremor rippled through her as she responded to the exotic sound of her name on his tongue. It maddened her that she should react so. She pulled herself together, fiercely quelling a riot of unfamiliar emotions.

‘Your Highness.’ She gripped the door hard. ‘Why are you here? We finished our business yesterday.’ Surely he had VIPs to see, deals to forge, women to seduce.

He bent over her hand in another courtly almost-kiss that knotted her stomach. She had to remind herself not to be impressed by surface charm.
Been there, done that.

Yet her gaze riveted on his austerely handsome face as he straightened. The flash of green fire in his eyes sent tendrils
of heat curling through her. His fingers squeezed and her pulse accelerated.

‘Call me Raul.’

It went against the grain but to refuse would be churlish.

‘Raul.’ It was crazy but she could almost taste his name in her mouth, like a rich, full-bodied wine.

‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ One dark eyebrow rose lazily as if her obstinacy amused him. She bit down on a rude response. He must have good reason to return. The sooner she heard it the sooner he’d go.

‘Please, come in.’ She led the way to the lounge room, ignoring the jitter of nerves in her stomach.

Instead of making himself comfortable, he took up a position in front of the window. A commanding position, she noticed uneasily as premonition skittered across her nape.

She didn’t like the glint in his eye or his wide-legged stance, as if claiming her territory for his own. She stood facing him, refusing to be dominated.

‘You haven’t changed your mind?’

She lifted her chin a fraction. ‘Not if the cash comes with strings attached.’

Desperate as she was for money, she couldn’t agree.

She’d spent yesterday afternoon consulting her solicitor. There
must
be a way to access some of the money she was in line to inherit without giving up her life here. She didn’t trust Raul, a man with his own agenda, to be straight with her on that.

It was too soon to know, but the possibility she could negotiate enough funds to give the co-op the boost it needed had given her a better night’s sleep than she’d had in ages. It buoyed her now, strengthening her confidence.

‘Can I persuade you to reconsider?’ His mouth turned up in the barest hint of a smile, yet even that should have come with a health warning.

Her breath sawed in her throat and her pulse quickened.

Luisa thought of the enquiries being made on her behalf.

She’d be a fool to give in to his preposterous suggestion. ‘Absolutely not.’ The very thought of accepting made her ill.

‘That’s unfortunate.’ He paused so long her nerves stretched taut. ‘Very unfortunate.’ He looked grim.

Finally he reached into his jacket pocket. ‘In that case, these are for you.’

Bewildered, Luisa accepted the papers. ‘You want me to sign away my inheritance?’ She’d sign nothing without legal advice.

He shook his head. ‘Take your time. They’re self-explanatory.’

Confused, she skimmed the papers. Unlike yesterday’s, these weren’t rich parchment. They looked more like the loan documents that were the bane of her life.

Luisa forced herself to concentrate. Hard to do with his stare on her. When finally she began to understand, the world spun around her.

‘You’ve bought the co-op’s debts.’ Disbelieving, she shuffled the papers, eyes goggling. ‘All of them!’

And in one day. Each paper had yesterday’s date.

Was it even possible?

Bewildered, she looked up. The gravity of his expression convinced her more than the typed words.

Luisa sank abruptly onto the arm of a chair, her knees too wobbly to take her weight, her breath choppy.

What strings had he pulled to manage that in a single day? Luisa couldn’t conceive of such power. Yet, staring up at the man before her, she realised he wielded authority as easily as she managed a milking machine.

The realisation dried her mouth.

‘Why?’ Her voice was a hoarse rasp.

He paced closer, looming between her and the light from the window. ‘On the day you sign the documents accepting your inheritance, I’ll make a gift of them. You can rip them into confetti.’

Relief poured through her veins so suddenly she shook.

He was so obstinate! He still didn’t accept her rejection. No
doubt he thought it embarrassing that the heir to a royal title was neck-deep in debt.

It was a generous gesture. One she’d compensate him for if she found a way to access the funds.

‘But I’m not going. I’m staying here.’

‘You won’t.’

Had anyone ever denied him what he wanted?

Impatient energy radiated off him. And that chin—she’d never seen a more determined face.

Luisa stood. She needed to assert herself and end this nonsense. It was time he accepted she knew her mind. ‘I’ve got no plans to leave.’

He held her gaze as the seconds stretched out. His expression didn’t change but a frisson of anxiety skipped up her back, like a spider dancing on her vertebrae.

‘Knowing how committed you are to the well-being of your family and friends, I’m sure you’ll change your mind.’ His voice held steel beneath the deep velvet inflection. ‘Unless you want them to lose everything.’

He spoke so matter-of-factly it took a moment to register the threat.

Luisa’s face froze and a gasp caught inside as her throat closed convulsively.

Blackmail?

She opened her mouth but no sound emerged. Paper cascaded to the floor from her trembling hands.

‘You … can’t be serious!’

Slowly he shook his head. ‘Never more so, Luisa.’

‘Don’t call me that!’ The way he said her name, with the same lilting accent her mother had used, was like a travesty of a familiar endearment.

‘Princess Luisa, then.’

She took a furious step forward, her hands clenching in frustration. ‘This has to be a joke.’ But no humour showed on his stern features. ‘You can’t foreclose! You’d destroy the livelihood of a dozen families.’ And her father’s dream. What she had worked for most of her life.

After she’d returned home to nurse her mother, Luisa had never found time to go back and finish school. Instead she’d stayed on to help her father, who’d never fully recovered from the loss of his wife.

‘The decision is yours. You can save them, if they mean as much as you claim.’

He meant it! The grim determination in his granite-set jaw was nothing to the resolution in his glittering eyes.

‘But … why?’ Luisa shook her head, trying to find sense in a world turned topsy-turvy. ‘You can find another heir, someone who’d be thrilled to live the life you’re offering.’ Someone happy to give up her soul for the riches he promised. ‘I’m not princess material!’

The gleam in his eyes suggested he agreed.

‘There
is
no one else, Luisa. You are the princess.’

‘You can’t dictate my future!’ Luisa planted her hands on her hips, letting defiance mask her sudden fear. ‘Why are you getting so personally involved?’

When her grandfather had made contact it had been through emissaries. He hadn’t come to her. Yet Raul as crown prince was far more important than her grandfather.

He took her hand before she could snatch it away. Heat engulfed her, radiating from his touch and searing her skin even as his intentions chilled her marrow.

‘I have a stake in your future,’ he murmured.

Automatically she jerked up her chin. ‘Really?’ The word emerged defiantly.

‘A very personal stake.’ His grip firmed, all except for his thumb, which stroked gently across her palm, sending little judders of awareness through her. ‘Not only are you the Ardissian heiress, you’re destined to be Queen of Maritz.’ He paused, eyes locking with hers.

‘That’s why I’m here. To take you back as my bride.’

L
UISA
watched his firm lips shape the word ‘bride’. Her head reeled.

There was no laughter in his eyes. No wildness hinting at insanity. Just a steady certainty that locked the protest in her mouth.

Her lungs cramped from lack of oxygen as her breath escaped in a whoosh. She lurched forward, dragging in air. He grasped her hand tight and reached for her shoulder as if to support her.

Violently she wrenched away, breaking his grip and retreating to stand, panting, beside the window.

‘Don’t touch me!’

His eyes narrowed to slits of green fire and she sensed that behind his calm exterior lurked a man of volatile passions.

‘Explain. Now!’ she said when she’d caught her breath.

‘Perhaps you’d better sit.’

So he could tower over her? No, thank you! ‘I prefer to stand.’ Even if her legs felt like unset jelly.

‘As you wish.’ Why did it sound like he granted her a special favour in her own house?

He had royal condescension down to an art form.

‘You were going to explain why you need to marry.’ For the life of her, Luisa couldn’t say ‘marry me’.

His look told her he didn’t miss the omission.

‘To ascend the throne I must be married.’ At her stare he
continued. ‘It’s an old law, aimed to ensure an unbroken royal lineage.’

A tremor scudded through her at the idea of ‘ensuring the royal lineage’.
With him.

It didn’t matter how handsome he was. She’d learnt looks could hide a black heart. It was the inner man that counted. From what she’d seen, Raul was as proud, opinionated and selfish as her detested grandfather.

The way he looked when she challenged him—jaw tight and eyes flashing malachite sparks, was warning enough.

Luisa’s heartbeat pounded so hard she had trouble hearing his next words.

‘It’s tradition that the crown prince take a bride from one of Maritz’s principalities. When we were in our teens a contract was drawn up for my marriage to your cousin, Marissa, Princess of Ardissia. But Marissa died soon after.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Luisa said gruffly. She searched his features for regret but couldn’t read anything. Didn’t he feel
something
for his fiancée who’d died?

She pursed her lips. Obviously the heartless arranged marriage was still alive and thriving in Maritz!

‘After that I was in no hurry to tie myself in marriage. But when my father died recently it was time to find another bride.’

‘So you could inherit.’ Luisa shivered, remembering that world where marriages were dynastic contracts, devoid of love. She crossed her arms protectively. How could he be so sanguine about it?

‘My plans were curtailed when your grandfather’s will was read and we discovered you would inherit. Before then, given what he’d said about disowning your mother, your branch of the family didn’t feature in our considerations.’

He made them sound like tiresome complications in his grand design! Indignation rose anew.

‘What has the will got to do with your marriage?’

‘The contract is binding, Luisa.’ He loomed far too close. Her lungs constricted, making her breathing choppy.

‘But how?’ Luisa paced away, urgently needing space. ‘If Marissa is—’

‘Everyone, including the genealogists and lawyers, believed your grandfather’s line would die with him. The news he had a granddaughter who hadn’t been disinherited was a bombshell.’ He didn’t look as if the news had pleased him. ‘You should be thankful we were able to find you before the media got the story. You’d have had press camped here around the clock.’

‘You’re overdramatising.’ Luisa’s hands curled tight as she forced down growing panic. ‘I’ve got nothing to do with your wedding.’

One dark eyebrow winged upwards. ‘The antiquated style of the contract means I’m bound to marry the Princess of Ardissia.’ He paused, his mouth a slash of pure displeasure.
‘Whoever she is.’

‘You’re out of your mind!’ Luisa retreated a frantic step, her stomach a churning mess. This truly
was
a nightmare. ‘I never signed any contract!’

‘It doesn’t matter. The document is legal.’ His lips twisted. ‘The best minds in the country can’t find a way out of it.’

She shook her head, her hair falling across her face as she backed up against the window. ‘No way! No matter what your contract says, you can’t take me back there as—’

‘My bride?’ The words dropped into echoing silence. Luisa heard them repeat over and over in her numbed brain, like a never-ending ripple spreading in a still, icy pool.

‘Believe me; I’ll do what’s necessary to claim my throne.’ His chin lifted regally, making clear what he hadn’t put in words: that he didn’t wish to marry someone so far beneath him. Someone so unappealing.

Why was he so desperate? Did power mean so much?

Luisa choked on rising anger. Twenty-four years old and she’d received two marriage offers—both from ambitious men who saw her as nothing but a means to acquire power! Why
couldn’t she meet a caring, honest man who’d love her for herself? She felt soiled and cheap.

‘You expect me to give up my life and marry you, a total
stranger, so you can become king?’ What century had he dropped out of? ‘You’re talking antiquated nonsense.’

His look grazed like shards of ice on bare skin. ‘It may be antiquated but I must marry.’

She jutted her chin. ‘Marry someone else!’

Something dangerous and dark flashed in his eyes. But when he spoke his words were measured. She sensed he hung onto his control by a thread.

‘If I could I would. If you hadn’t existed or if you’d already married, the contract would be void and I could choose another bride.’

As if choosing a wife took a minimum of time and effort!

Though in his case it might. With his looks, sexual magnetism and wealth there’d be lots of women eager to overlook the fact they tied themselves to a power hungry egotist!

His deep voice sent a tremor rippling through her overwrought body. ‘There’s no more time to find a way out. I need to be married within the constitutional time limit or I can’t inherit.’

‘Why should I care?’ Luisa rubbed her hands up chilled arms, trying to restore warmth. ‘I don’t even know you.’

And what she did know she didn’t like.

He shrugged and unwillingly Luisa saw how the fluid movement drew attention to those powerful shoulders. The sort of shoulders that belonged on a surf lifesaver or an outback farmer, not a privileged aristocrat.

‘I’m the best person for the kingship. Some would say the only suitable one. I’ve trained a lifetime for it.’

‘Others could learn.’

He shook his head. ‘Not now. Not in time. There was unrest in the last years of my father’s reign. That’s growing. A strong king is what the country needs.’

The sizzle in his eyes stopped her breath.

‘That leaves only one option.’

She
was his only option!

‘I don’t care!’ Cool glass pressed against her back as he
took a pace towards her and she stepped back. ‘Let them crown someone else. I’m not a sacrificial lamb for the slaughter.’

His lips curled in a knowing smile that should have repelled her. Yet her heart hammered as she watched his eyes light with a gleam that warmed her from tip to toe.

‘You think marriage to me would be a hardship?’ His voice dropped to a low pitch that feathered like a sultry breeze across her suddenly flushed skin. ‘That I don’t know how to please a woman?’

Luisa swallowed hard, using her hands to anchor herself to the windowsill behind her rather than be drawn towards the glittering green gaze that seemed now to promise unspoken delights.

He was far more dangerous than she’d realised.

‘Be assured, Luisa, that you will find pleasure in our union. You have my word on it.’

A beat of power, of heat, pulsed between them and she knew how an animal felt, mesmerised by a predator.

‘The answer is still no,’ she whispered hoarsely, shocked at the need to force down a betraying weakness that made her respond to his sensual promise. Why did her dormant hormones suddenly jangle into life around
him?

For a long moment they stood, adversaries in a silent battle of wills.

‘Then, sadly, you leave me no choice.’ The fire in his eyes was doused as if it had never been. A flicker of what might have been regret shadowed his gaze then disappeared. ‘Just remember that decision, and the outcome, are entirely yours.’

Already he turned away. Only her hand on his elbow stopped him.

‘What do you mean?’ Fear was a sour tang in her mouth.

He didn’t turn. ‘I have business to finalise before I leave. Some farms to dispose of.’

Panic surged. Luisa’s fingers tightened like a claw on the fine wool of his suit. She stepped round to look up into his stern face.

‘You can’t foreclose! They haven’t done anything to you.’

His stare pinioned her. He shook off her hand.

‘In a choice between your relatives and my country there is no contest.’ He inclined his head. ‘Goodbye, Luisa.’

‘I’m sure Mademoiselle will be happy with this new style. A little shorter, a little more chic. Yes?’

Luisa dragged herself from her troubled reverie and met the eyes of the young Frenchwoman in the mirror. Clearly the stylist was excited at being summoned to the Prince’s exclusive Parisian residence. Unlike the nail technician who’d barely resisted snorting her displeasure when Luisa had refused false nails, knowing she’d never manage them. Or the haughty couturier who’d taken her measurements with barely concealed contempt for Luisa’s clothes.

The hair stylist hadn’t been daunted at the prospect of working on someone as ordinary as Luisa.

Perhaps she liked a challenge.

‘I’m sure it will be lovely.’ Another time Luisa would have been thrilled, having her hair done by someone with such flair and enthusiasm. But not today, just hours after Raul’s private jet had touched down in Paris.

It had all happened too fast. Even her goodbyes to Sam and a tearful Mary, crying over the happy news that Luisa was taking up her long lost inheritance.

How she wished she were with them now. Back in the world she knew, where she belonged.

Luisa gritted her teeth, remembering how Raul had taken the initiative from her even in her farewells.

When she’d gone to break the news it was to find he’d been there first. Her family and friends were already agog with the story of Luisa finally taking her ‘rightful place’ as a princess. And with news their debts were to be cancelled.

Yet Luisa had at least asserted herself in demanding Raul install a capable farm manager in her place to get the co-op on its feet. She refused to leave her friends short-handed.

In the face of their pleasure, Luisa had felt almost selfish,
longing to stay, when so much good came out of her departure. Yet she’d left part of herself behind.

Her family and friends would have been distraught, knowing why she left. They wouldn’t have touched the Prince’s money if they knew the truth. But she couldn’t do that to them. She couldn’t ruin them for her pride.

Or her deep-seated fear of what awaited her in Maritz.

She shivered when she thought of entering Raul’s world. Being with a man who should repel her, yet who—

‘These layers will complement the jaw line, see? And make this lovely hair easier to manage.’

Luisa nodded vaguely.

‘And, you will forgive me saying, cut even on both sides suits you better, yes?’

Luisa looked up, catching a sparkle in the other woman’s eye. Heat seeped under her skin as she remembered her previous lopsided cut. She tilted her chin.

‘My friend wants to become a hairdresser. She practised on me.’

‘Her instincts were good, but the execution …’ The other woman made one last judicious snip, then stepped away. ‘Voila! What do you think?’

For the first time Luisa really focused. She kept staring as the stylist used a mirror to reveal her new look from all sides.

It wasn’t a new look. It was a new woman!

Her overgrown hair was now a gleaming silky fall that danced and slid around her neck as she turned, yet always fell sleekly back into place. It was shorter, barely reaching her shoulders, but shaped now to the contours of her face. Dull dark blonde had been transformed into a burnished yet natural light gold.

‘What did you do?’

Luisa didn’t recognise the woman in the mirror. A woman whose eyes looked larger, her face almost sculpted and quite … arresting. She turned her head, watching the slanting sunlight catch the seemingly artless fall of hair.

The Frenchwoman shrugged. ‘A couple of highlights to accentuate your natural golden tones and a good cut. You approve?’

Luisa nodded, unable to find words to describe what she felt. She remembered those last months nursing her mother, poring with her over fashion and beauty magazines borrowed from the local library. Her mother, with her unerring eye for style, would point out the cut that would be perfect for Luisa. And Luisa would play along, pretending that when she’d finally made her choice she’d visit a salon and have her hair styled just so. As if she had time or money to spare for anything other than her mother’s care and the constant demands of the farm.

‘It’s just long enough to put up for formal occasions.’

Luisa’s stomach bottomed at the thought of the formal occasions she’d face when they reached Maritz.

This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be happening.
How could she have agreed?

Suddenly she needed to escape. Needed to draw fresh air into her lungs, far from the confines of this gilt-edged mansion with its period furniture and discreet servants.

It hit her that, from the moment Raul had delivered his ultimatum, she’d not been alone. His security men had been on duty that final night she’d slept at home. Probably making sure she didn’t do a midnight flit! After that there’d been stewards, butlers, chauffeurs.

And Raul himself, invading her personal space even when he stood as far from her as possible.

The stylist had barely slid the protective cape off Luisa’s shoulders when she was on her feet, full of thanks for the marvellous cut and turning towards the door.