“Earmarked? Is that how you talk about her? Bella’s a person, not a pile of money.”
The nerve. Will had spent too much time in budget meetings if he equated a flesh-and-blood woman with reserve funds.
“Yes. But surely you realize we’re talking about an arranged marriage. It’s a form of currency, dating back to the dawn of time. No one is under a different impression.”
James had a sick sort of realization that what Will described was probably quite right. Two fathers had struck a deal, bargaining away their children’s future with no thought to what could or should go into a marriage decision. Namely, the desires of the bride and groom in question.
If he didn’t miss his guess, Will accepted that. Embraced it. Thought it was a brilliant idea.
If James had known this was the case, he’d have taken Bella straight to his room last night and skipped the formality of giving his brother a heads-up that things had changed. “Bella has a different impression. She’s not interested in being bought or sold.”
Will eyed him thoughtfully. “Why hasn’t she come to me herself?”
“Because this is between you and me, brother. She didn’t want to get into the middle of it.” Which he fully appreciated, whether Will did or not. James had to look at himself in the mirror for the rest of his life and he’d prefer not to see his own guilty conscience staring back at him. “And she won’t. Neither will I allow her to. If you say you’re planning to pursue this ridiculous idea of aligning Rowling Energy to the Montoros through marriage, so be it. Just be sure you treat her like a princess.”
Maybe James wasn’t done being noble after all. He’d fully expected to walk in here and demand that Will release Bella from their fathers’ agreement. But somehow he’d wound up caring more about Bella and how she was being marginalized than whether he’d cleared the way to sleep with her.
“I see.” Comprehension dawned in Will’s gaze. “You’re the reason she left the party so quickly last night. Last I knew, she’d gone out on the terrace for some air, and the next, she’d begged off with a headache.”
“I’m sorry,” James said earnestly. “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. But Bella deserves better than to be thought of as currency. She’s funny and incredible and—”
He broke off before he said something he couldn’t take back, like she’s the hottest kisser I’ve ever met. Somehow, he didn’t think that would go over well.
“You’ve got it bad.” Will didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Never would have thought I’d see the day. She’s really got you wrapped, doesn’t she?”
As if Bella called the shots or something? James tried to do the right thing one time and all he got was grief.
“She’s important,” James growled. “That’s all.”
Will grinned mischievously, looking more like Mum than he usually did. “Ha. I wouldn’t be surprised if you proposed to her before her brother’s coronation.”
“Propose? You mean ask her to marry me?” Ice slid down James’s spine and he threw up a hand to stave off the rest of Will’s outpouring of madness. “That’s not what’s going on here. We’re just... I’m not... It’s that I didn’t want to poach on your territory. It’s not sporting.”
“Gabriella. Paulinha. Abril.” Ticking them off on his fingers, Will cocked his head. “I think there was another one, but her name escapes me.”
Revisionist history of the worst kind. “If I recall, Abril went home with you. Despite the fact that I saw her first.”
“But that’s my point. We’ve competed over women in the past. But you have never come to me first.” Will’s phone rang, but he ignored the shrill buzz. “We’ve always subscribed to the may-the-best-man-win philosophy. So obviously Bella is the one.”
Yeah, the one James wanted in his bed. That was it. Once they burned off the blinding attraction, they’d part amicably. “No way. You’re reading into this.”
An even worse thought occurred to him then. Did Bella think there was more going on here? Like maybe James wanted to take Will’s place in the diabolical bridal bargain their fathers had struck? Surely not. There’d been plenty of flirting, and lots of use of the word naked. But no one had said anything about being serious.
Will shook his head, a smile still tugging at his lips. “I don’t think so. Put your money where your mouth is.”
“A bet? Seriously?” All the long hours in the service of Patrick Rowling’s ego had obviously pickled his brother’s brain.
“As a heart attack.” Nodding at James’s wrist, he pursed his lips for a beat. “Grandfather’s watch. That’s how bad I think you’ve got it. If you propose to Bella before Gabriel Montoro takes the throne, you give it to me, free and clear.”
James laughed. “You are so on.”
What a stupid thing to ask for. Will knew how much James loved his grandfather’s watch. It was one of the few mementos from England that James had left, and Grandfather had given it to him on his eighteenth birthday. Losing it was not happening. Proposing to Bella was not happening, before the coronation or after.
Sucker’s bet. James rubbed his hands together gleefully. “If I don’t propose, then what? Make this worth my while.”
“I’ll come up with something.”
James and Will shook on it.
“So this means the arranged marriage is totally off, right?” No point in going through all of this just to find out Will was toying with him.
“Totally off.”
A glint in his brother’s eye caught his crossways. “You were never interested in her.”
“Never,” Will confirmed solemnly. “Bella’s got all the right parts and everything, and she would have opened up some interesting possibilities for Rowling. But she’s not my type. I’m fine with cancelling the whole agreement.”
Not his type. That was insane. How could Bella not be every red-blooded man’s type? “You’ll talk to Father?”
“Sure. It’s better coming from me anyway. Now get out so I can run this company.”
James got out. He had a naked princess in his future after all.
* * *
Bella’s eyes started to ache after thirty minutes of trying to read the tiny map print.
“I give up,” she muttered and switched off the lamp adorning her bedside table.
All of the words were in Spanish anyway. How was she supposed to use this map Alex Ramon’s assistant had given her to find the farmhouse Tía Isabella had mentioned?
When Bella had asked Rafael about it, he sent her to speak with Alex Ramon, Alma’s deputy prime minister of commerce. His assistant helped her scour the royal archives until they found one solitary mention of the abandoned farmhouse in a long list of Montoro holdings. But there was little to go on location-wise other than Aldeia Dormer, the name of a tiny village.
At least Mr. Ramon’s assistant had managed to find the key to the property tucked away in a filing cabinet, a real plus. Assuming the key still worked, that was.
Now she just had to find the farmhouse. Tía Isabella’s urgency had taken root, not to mention a healthy dose of curiosity about how an old farmhouse counted as part of a legacy. There was no way Bella would actually give up.
Plus, finding the farmhouse was a project, her gift to Isabella. Bella needed a local with plenty of time on his hands and access to a vehicle to help her scour the countryside for this farmhouse. And who didn’t mind ditching her babysitters-slash-security