Both things had to be ignored. Andreas was a prince of the blood. She knew that. She’d always known that. He took his pleasures where he willed. He’d just come from a marriage that Sophia had told her was tempestuous—a jealous hell from day one. He had a wardrobe full of exotic clothes on his exotic island, waiting for woman after woman after woman.
He wanted a new bride like a bad smell.
But this was a business proposition. She had to make herself see it as that. Business.
And in her arms… His troth.
The pup was a pretty funny troth, she thought, and she rose to her feet and hugged the little dog close. His troth. Better than any diamond.
Deefer made it personal. Deefer made it seem… almost right. Almost as if there were some desire.
‘You say… you’re inferring we can divorce later on,’ she said, trying to make herself think. ‘But your divorce to Christine…’
‘Was different. Christine used the occasion to bad-mouth me at a time she knew we were vulnerable. The timing was awful—scandal after scandal was rocking the palace. The lies she’s told about me are one of the main reasons why it’s imperative I’m seen as doing the right thing now. If you agree I’d ask that our marriage stay in place until Sebastian ascends to the throne. After that it doesn’t matter what the people think of me. But Holly, I need this marriage. Our country needs this marriage. You have to believe me.’
‘But if I believe you… there doesn’t seem much choice,’ she managed, and it was really hard to get even that much out. ‘I’d have to marry you.’
‘Is there anyone else?’ he asked suddenly. ‘I assumed…’
‘Your people didn’t find that out?’
‘They said they thought not. Are they right?’
‘Of course they’re right,’ she snapped before she could stop herself.
He smiled. ‘That’s a blessing.’
‘For who?’ she demanded.
‘For me,’ he said and had the temerity to grin.
‘So you’re free to marry him?’ Sophia had been quiet long enough. She was practically jiggling with impatience. As they turned to look at her she gave a shamefaced smile. ‘It’s just… Your Highness, I have soufflés in the oven.’
‘Then for the sake of the soufflés, Holly…’ Andreas said, and his grin deepened.
And all at once Holly was smiling back, caught in the web of wonder she’d been trapped in ten years ago.
But… She couldn’t be illogical. Even for the soufflés. She had to be… businesslike.
‘So it’s to be a temporary marriage.’
‘Yes.’
‘I can go home when I want?’
‘As soon as the fuss dies down, yes.’
‘You’ll pay all my father’s debts.’
‘Of course.’
‘You’ll give me working capital as well?’
‘Yes,’ Andreas said. ‘Anything else?’
‘I can keep the pup?’ Holly demanded, refusing to be distracted.
‘He’s yours. He’ll need to be quarantined when he goes back to Australia, but I’ll cover the costs in the marriage contracts.’
‘So I’ll have real, fully legal contracts.’
‘If you want, then yes.’
She stared at him. He gazed calmly back, waiting for her decision. On the sidelines Sophia started jiggling again and looked despairingly toward the kitchen. She looked so desperate that Holly allowed herself to be distracted. The big picture was just too hard to focus on. So… why not focus on the detail?
Soufflés. Maybe soufflés were as good a reason as any to agree to a marriage she thought of as mad.
Was she mad? Probably, she thought. She felt as she had when, as a little girl, her father had taken her to a huge swimming pool in Perth. When he wasn’t looking she’d climbed the diving tower, right to the top. Before she’d known it she’d been at the edge of the diving platform, and older, competent divers had been queuing up behind her waiting for her to dive.
‘Are you going to dive or not?’ a kid had asked scornfully and she’d looked down at the water way below her in horror—and she’d jumped.
And that was what she did now. Crazy or not, she believed what Andreas was telling her. And if she believed him… there didn’t seem to be a choice.
‘For the sake of the soufflé, then,’ she said, forcing her voice to be calm, steady, all the things that she absolutely wasn’t. ‘For no other reason in the world, other than one small pup and a soufflé. Yes, Your Highness, I agree to marry you.’
What did she do after she’d just agreed to marry a prince? She ate soufflé, of course, a feather-light confection of cheeses that melted in her mouth and felt as insubstantial as the night.
Everything felt insubstantial. She felt as if she were floating in some weird bubble. Any minute it’d burst and she’d be catapulted back to her lonely life; the realities of coping with Munwannay by herself.
It’d happen. But it’d happen with enough money for her to make her property viable.
She was trying to stay distant from the man seated at the other side of the table. She’d agreed to marry him, but it was a bargain. A means to the end for both of them.
She’d need to buy in cattle, she thought. Good cattle, the kind she’d always dreamed she could run at stud. She could rebuild the garden. She could get the dry rot out of the floorboards. Maybe she could also think about doing what she’d always wanted—taking in select holidaymakers who wanted a real cattle experience in the outback.
It’d mean it wouldn’t be so lonely.
She hadn’t set Deefer down. The pup had had a very long day and was more than content to lie draped over her knee while she ate her soufflé and the rest of the magnificent dinner Sophia put before her.
And all the time Andreas watched her, his eyes dark and fathomless.
‘This is what you want?’ Andreas said at last as Sophia poured coffee and left them.
‘Do I have a choice?’ she asked, surprised.
‘I can’t coerce you,’ he said. ‘You know that. But I believe it’s a fair bargain.’
‘It is.’ And of course she wanted it. Munwannay was where Adam lay. To be given the ability to stay there, for always…
‘The divorce won’t be possible until after my brother is crowned,’ Andreas reminded her, and that hauled her thoughts away from one tiny grave and back to the man across the table from her. ‘It seems presumptuous to talk about divorce before we’re actually married,’ he said. ‘But I believe it’s better that we have a plan.’
Plans sounded good. What was in her head now was an enormous knot of confusion. If he could somehow unravel it into bits she could understand then she might be able to cope.
‘Tell me where we go from here,’ she asked, and the little dog on her lap looked up at her as if in concern. She hugged him tight—a warm, familiar certainty in the face of internal chaos.
‘We need a royal wedding,’ he said. ‘Not a huge affair—we’ll leave the pomp and pageant for Sebastian, but the people will react well to a proper wedding.’
‘I can hardly wear white,’ she said and his brow snapped down.
‘Of course you