Crowning His Convenient Princess. Maisey Yates

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СКАЧАТЬ behaved in a way that might invite you to. Oddly, though it may seem to you, I’m not overly concerned with your approval. But, I do wish to make Astrid happy, and I do wish to bolster the standing of my country in the world. So, you must help me find a wife.”

      “Is there a particular brand name you are drawn to?” she asked, her tone caustic.

      “Yes,” he said, not missing a beat. “I would prefer a philanthropist. I do not require that she be in mint condition, so to speak.”

      It took her a moment to catch his meaning. “You do not expect a virgin? How progressive of you.”

      “Well,” he said. “As I myself am not a virgin, it seems a bit of a double standard to demand my wife come to me untouched.”

      She tried to keep the flush out of her face, and tried to keep her tone sharp. “You are not untouched?”

      The corner of his wicked mouth turned up. “I’ve been touched one or two times.”

      “Shocking,” she returned.

      “I expect that you possess ample channels through which you might find a woman interested in marrying me.”

      The very idea of arranging marriages didn’t sit very well with Latika. Not given her experience surrounding such things. Of course, Gunnar didn’t know anything about her real life. Or her real identity. Fishing around in the sorts of circles that might require him to find a wife in might present a problem for her as well.

      Considering she was technically in hiding.

      But then, she could find ways to be discreet. Find ways to make sure that she avoided any places that might be problematic.

      Just one grim corner of Europe, and the East Coast of the United States. She imagined that Gunnar wouldn’t mind her fishing around for an English debutante, rather than looking on the Upper Eastside of New York City.

      “Blonde? Redheaded? Brunette? Do you have a preference?”

      “None,” he said.

      “You don’t have a type?” she pressed.

      “Female covers it.”

      She fought against rolling her eyes. Instead, she made a very officious note on her clipboard. Then treated him to a smile. “A female philanthropist. Hymen not required.”

      “In fact, I would prefer that there were no hymen present at all,” he said. “I’m not a patient man. I’d rather not have to instruct a woman on how to please me.”

      “Indeed,” she said flatly. And she managed to hold back: that rules me out handily then.

      As if she would ever, in a million years, with flying pigs in the sky, consider being Gunnar’s bride.

      He turned away from her, his broad back filling her vision. His muscles moved in very interesting ways and she attempted to study the ceiling, rather than his skin.

      But it was hard, because his skin was so much more compelling.

      And he began to move around the room. He opened up a dresser, pulled out a T-shirt, and shrugged it over his body.

      Something about the flex of those muscles caused an answering flex between her thighs, and she did her best to ignore it.

      Her emotions were so very charged in his presence, always. And it was her preference to play off the heat as anger. And to pretend that there was no other layer to it.

      That there was no part of her—not even a tiny part—that wished to bite down on that insolent mouth of his.

      And then bite his chest.

      And then lick it.

      No. No part of her at all.

      She forced a smile. “Anything else?”

      “No. I believe that covers it.”

      “Then I shall begin putting out inquiries, Your Highness. And very soon, I will have found a wife for you.”

      “It may also bear mentioning,” he said, “That I am the owner of my own multibillion-dollar company.”

      Latika froze. “You… You’re what?”

      “Yes. I suppose it’s about time that came out.”

      “How… How did you keep that a secret?”

      “No one is looking for that bit of dirt. Honestly, it isn’t dirt. Why would anyone care? My company has a name, obviously, and my name is buried beneath it. But the only thing anyone is ever interested in is who I’m sleeping with. Not the fact that I am the CEO of a multibillion-dollar corporation that deals in green building.”

      “I…”

      “It’s part of revamping my reputation, Latika. These things must be made public. I assume you’re the person to speak to about the press release regarding that as well.”

      “I will take care of it,” she said, blinking.

      “See that you do.”

      Those blue eyes caught hers and held for a moment, and Latika did her best not to pay attention to the slight shift she felt in her stomach. Did her best to ignore the fact that suddenly the air felt a little bit thicker.

      And she really tried not to examine what any of this new information—that he was not going into any of this kicking and screaming, that he had an endeavor that went somewhere beyond gambling and whoring—made her feel.

      She was much more comfortable when she disdained Gunnar.

      Anything else was unacceptable.

      Prince Gunnar von Bjornland had settled into debauchery for far too long. He was at an end with it.

      It had been one thing to engage in it when his father was living, and indeed it was something that he had enjoyed.

      To throw in the face of his father, even as the old man attempted to sabotage Astrid. Their father was a relic of the highest order. A man who had not been able to fathom that a woman could possibly do a good job of running the country, regardless of the fact that there were many examples that proved they could, and just fine thank you.

      No, his father had never gotten over the fact that his heir was a woman. And the fact that his only son had refused to take his side and engage in a coup, overthrowing his twin had been something that the old man could not accept even in the end.

      Gunnar had never risen to his father’s bait, and to the contrary, had taken a perverse kind of delight in behaving in every way that Astrid did not.

      As his sister had lived a serious and contemplative life, dedicating herself to service, Gunnar had waged an all-out war against propriety.

      He had taken every sacred tradition and broken it at least once, had taken delight in running roughshod over deeply revered customs, and in general putting СКАЧАТЬ