“What is the precise nature of your agreement with … with Prince Rodriguez?” she asked, licking her suddenly dry lips.
“Anguiano needs an heir,” said Eduardo. “His father is dying. As good as dead. Incapacitated and in hospital. It’s time for Rodriguez to take the throne of Santa Christobel, and that means he needs a wife.”
“And what’s in it for us? For Santina. I mean, I understand it in a general sense. But if I’m actually going to … marry Prince Rodriguez, then I need to know exactly what we stand to gain.”
“Can you imagine it, Carlotta? What such an alliance could bring? Ease for educational programs between the nations. Trade. A valuable ally to stand with should conflict ever arise. All cemented by marriage. Children. It is unfathomable in its value.”
“Gems,” she said softly, a realization washing over her. “They have diamonds. Ruby mines too. A host of other natural resources.”
“It cannot be overlooked. They are a wealthy nation. And that makes them even more valuable. Sophia knew her duty. She has abandoned it. But I trust you, Carlotta. I trust that you will do what is right.”
What was right? She had tried to do what was right for most of her life. Barring one giant mistake, she always had. It had always been her goal. To be the kind of daughter her parents deserved and desired. She didn’t know if she could take it this far though.
She closed her eyes for a moment, pictured her house on the beach. The quiet. Her son running through the halls with his arms full of stuffed animals that had most definitely seen better days. Things were simpler there. She didn’t have to work so hard to be the Carlotta that she was expected to be. The one she feared deep inside she never truly could be.
But while she had left palace life behind, she hadn’t left her title. She hadn’t truly shed her duty.
That was bred into her. A part of her. Even if she tried to ignore it.
And then, there was her father. Who had never given up on her. Not even when she’d let him down, dragged the Santina name through the mud. Put them on par with the kind of tabloid fodder he despised.
For all the cruel words her family had bandied around about her older brother Alessandro’s future in-laws, the very same could be said about her. It had been said about her, in bold print, on newsstands all around Santina.
Scandalous. Immoral.
Her family, her father, had never thrown those words at her, but she knew it had been thought. How could they not think it? She had. Worse, she knew it was true. A lifetime of keeping her passionate, exuberant nature on a tight leash, and in one great fall from grace, all her efforts had been reduced to nothing. She had tainted her family name, had brought them ridicule, the disgust of a nation who saw her as a clear sign of the degeneration of the royal family.
The question was, how badly did she want redemption? Enough to marry a total stranger? The prince of a country she’d never been to? The man her sister had been engaged to, until she’d broken it by hooking up with Ash on his private plane.
She looked at her father. He had aged in the past few years. She hadn’t been around to see it. She wondered how much of it was her fault. How many lines on his face were from dealing with her transgressions.
It made her sick to think of it.
But she could be the one to fix things here. The one to save the day. To be the daughter her parents had imagined she would be. It was almost embarrassing that she wanted it so badly. That she cared so much. But she did. She needed to look at her father and see something other than disappointment in his eyes.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked.
Rodriguez reclined on the bed, his shoes consigned to the floor, along with his tie. His plane would be ready soon, and then he would be leaving Santina, and with it, the little melodrama that the Santinas seemed to be living.
He didn’t waste his time on this sort of thing. He lived. He didn’t regret. He didn’t worry. He didn’t think more than he had to. Not about anything beyond the here and now anyway.
There was a soft knock at the door and he wondered if it was a maid, then chuckled at where the thought took him. It really had been too long since he’d had sex. He’d been expecting to pick up a fiancée so he’d imagined his celibacy wouldn’t have lasted beyond tonight.
“Sì?”
The door opened, and it wasn’t a maid. It was Princess Carlotta Santina, still in her drab outfit, her lips pursed tight. She didn’t look like she was here to alleviate him of his celibacy either.
“I thought we might have a talk.” No, definitely not.
“Did you?”
She nodded, the setting sun filtering through the window shimmering over her straight, glossy bob. “I thought, since my father just tried to … use me as a stand-in for my sister, we might …”
“I’m actually done with that now.” He really wasn’t in the mood for whatever kind of rant she’d come to throw at him. Or was she here to apologize? The way she’d looked at her father, the way her shoulders had folded in, her hands clasped tight in front of her, almost like a shield. Like she feared him … she would come and apologize.
“I’m not,” she said, the slight steel in her tone surprising him.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. My father explained the situation to me more fully. I … I knew that you and Sophia were engaged, in a sense, but I did not know the specifics. I don’t live in Santina so I’m not really in on everything that goes on here and Sophia didn’t … she didn’t really say much of anything about you. I only got wind of how big of a deal it was when the story broke about Sophia being caught with Ash on the plane.”
“That’s because I’ve barely met the girl. No reason for her to talk about me.”
Carlotta cleared her throat. “Yes, well … the girl, is gone.”
“With the maharaja.”
He saw the corner of her mouth twitch. “Right. With Ash. Alex’s friend. And you still need a wife.”
“Need is a strong word.”
“Do you or don’t you?” she asked.
“Eventually.”
“How soon is this eventually you speak of?”
“Truthfully? The sooner, the better. This will be a time of transition for my people.” He thought of the responsibility, the weight of the crown. It was heavy on his shoulders. Already he’d moved back into the palace in Santa Christobel. He felt like it would choke him, being inside those four walls again. “Anything that can be done to ease their fears at this time would be welcome. Marriage, my marriage, would help with that.”
They wouldn’t be mourning his father, that was for sure. Carlos Anguiano was not much loved. And while Rodriguez had essentially been running Santa Christobel for the past several years, his father had remained the figurehead.
“It would mean a new start for my people. A fresh beginning,” he said.
“Well then, I guess I have good news for you.”
“What is that?”
“I haven’t run off with a maharaja, so … I happen to be available to marry you. At your earliest convenience.”
It was a rare moment that found Rodriguez Anguiano speechless.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“I’ll marry you.”
“What happened to the emphatic no from