Crowning His Convenient Princess. Maisey Yates

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      “Latika…”

      And then, she did something truly shocking. She launched herself forward, and captured his mouth with her own.

      Gunnar was a difficult man to surprise, indeed, until this moment he would have said it was impossible.

      People were boring in their predictability.

      And up until this point, Latika had been scarcely different.

      She had bantered with him. She had brought their exchanges of wit to the edge of propriety, but she had never crossed it. And while he found her enjoyable, she had never truly shocked him.

      But in this moment, she turned the whole ballroom—maybe the world—on its head.

      There was something desperate in her kiss, and he responded to it. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pressing her tightly against his body, forgetting they had an audience. Because what else mattered when he was finally tasting this woman that had vexed him for years.

      He took control of the kiss, tightening his hold on her and angling his head, taking advantage of her surprise, of her slightly parted lips, and slipping his tongue between them.

      She gasped, and he took it deeper.

      And only then did he fully realize that while he might have ensnared her at this very moment, she had caught him in her trap.

      “Everyone has seen,” she said. “If you were to reverse course now, no one would believe you. You have clearly staked your claim on me.”

      “Minx,” he said. “Was this your game all along?”

      “I promise you it was not.”

      “Does my sister know that you are little more than a fortune hunter?”

      “Your sister knows the truth.”

      He looked over at Astrid, who was seated in her throne still, watching what was taking place before her with a surprising amount of equanimity. If Astrid suspected that Latika was trying to snare him as a fortune hunter in some way, he knew that she would be on her feet.

      That she would have crossed the room, making her way to him, and to Latika, demanding that the farce be ended.

      But she was not. Instead, she was sitting and watching. Waiting. Clearly.

      “You must say that you’ll marry me,” she said. “Because if you do not, there is another man here. And he is going to take me away. Not from here, but if I ever set foot outside the palace, he has promised that he will take me. If I ever leave the safety of your land. And he said… He said that my anonymity is what has cursed me, and he is not wrong. If I were to go missing, no one would know. No one would care. But if I was your wife… Gunnar, if I was your wife not only would I improve your standing in the world, but you would save me from this man. If I was your wife, I could hardly go missing without notice. Then he could not force me to marry him. I need you to protect me.”

      On this, Gunnar did not need a moment to think. They could work out the details later, and they would, but if what Latika said was true, she needed protection. And it was no matter to him which woman in this room he married. It might as well be the one who needed help. It might as well be the one who lit his body on fire.

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