A Bride For The Playboy Prince: The perfect royal romance to celebrate Harry and Meghan’s wedding. Sandra Marton
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СКАЧАТЬ I...help them.’

      ‘What do you mean, you help them?’

      She shrugged. ‘They have no regular income.’

      ‘Your sister is a single parent?’

      ‘Sort of. She’s with Jason, only they’re not married and he’s rather work-shy.’

      ‘Then it’s about time he changed his attitude,’ he said. ‘Your sister and child will receive all the support they require because I will be able to help with that, too. And soon you will have a family of your own to think about.’

      ‘And my business?’ she demanded, levering herself into a sitting-up position and trying to summon the energy to glare at him. ‘What about that? I’ve worked for years to establish myself and yet now I’m expected to drop everything—as if my work was nothing but some disposable little hobby.’

      ‘I am willing to compromise on that and I don’t intend to deprive you of your career,’ he said softly. ‘You have people who work for you. Let them run the shop in your absence while you design from the palace.’

      And Lisa knew that whatever objection she raised Luc would override her. Because he could. He didn’t care that she was close to her little niece and terrified that everything she’d worked for would simply slip away if she wasn’t there to oversee it. He didn’t care about her—he never had. All he cared about was what he wanted. And he wanted this baby.

      ‘You don’t understand.’ She raised her hands in a gesture of appeal, but the answering look in his eyes was stony.

      ‘I understand more than you might think,’ he said. ‘I shall accommodate your wishes as much as possible. I don’t intend to be a cruel husband. But be very clear about one thing, Lisa—that this topic is not open for debate. That if it comes to it, I will drag you screaming and kicking to the altar, because you will be my wife and my child will be born on Mardovian soil.’

      There was a pause as she bit her lip before looking up at the grim determination which made his blue eyes look so cold. ‘If...if I agree to this forced marriage, I want some form of compensation.’

      ‘Compensation?’ he echoed incredulously, as if she was insulting him—which in a way she guessed she was. Unless you counted what she wanted as some old-fashioned kind of dowry.

      ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I want you to buy my sister a house of her own and provide her with a regular income which will free her from the clutches of her sponging partner.’

      His mouth twisted. ‘And that is the price for your consent?’

      Lisa nodded. ‘That is my price,’ she said heavily.

       CHAPTER SIX

      LUC LOOKED AROUND the room—a relatively small room but the one where his wedding to Lisa Tiffany Bailey was about to take place. It was decked out with garlands of flowers, their heavy fragrance perfuming the air, and over the marble fireplace was the crimson and gold of the Mardovian flag. Everything around him was as exquisitely presented as you would expect in the embassy of a country which had a reputation for excellence—and the staff had pulled out all the stops for the unexpected wedding of their ruler to his English bride. But when it boiled down to it, it was just a room.

      His face tightening with tension, he thought about the many generations of his family who had married in the august surroundings of the famous cathedral in Mardovia’s capital. Grand weddings attended by other royals, by world leaders, politicians and aristocracy. Huge, glittering affairs which had been months in the planning and talked about for years afterwards.

      But there would be no such wedding for him.

      Because how could he marry in front of his traditionally conservative people with such a visibly pregnant bride in tow? Wouldn’t it flaunt his own questionable behaviour, as well as risking offending Princess Sophie—a woman adored by his subjects? This was to be a small and discreet ceremony, with a woman who did not want to take part in it.

      He allowed himself a quick glance at the chairs on which her small family sat. The sister who looked so like her, and her boyfriend Jason, who Lisa clearly didn’t trust. Just as she didn’t trust him. Luc watched the casually dressed man with the slightly too long hair glance around the ornate room, unable to hide his covetous expression as he eyed up the lavish fixtures and fittings. He sensed Lisa was disappointed that the new house and income which had been given to her sister had failed to remove Jason from the equation. It seemed that her sister’s love for him ran deep...

      But her dysfunctional family wasn’t the reason he was here today and Luc tensed as the Mardovian national anthem began to play. Slowly, he turned his head to watch as Lisa made her entrance, his heart pounding as she started to walk towards him and he was unprepared—and surprised—by the powerful surge of feeling which ran through him as she approached.

      His mouth dried to dust as he stared at his bride, thinking how beautiful she looked, and he felt the inexplicable twist of his heart. More beautiful than he could ever have imagined.

      She had left her hair spilling free—a glossy cascade broken only by the addition of white flowers which had been carefully woven into the honeyed locks. To some extent, the glorious spectacle of her curls drew the eye away from her rounded stomach, but her dressmaker’s eye for detail had also played a part in that—for her gown was cleverly designed to minimise the appearance of her pregnancy. Heavy cream satin fell to her knee and the matching shoes showcased shapely legs which, again, distracted attention from her full figure. And, of course, the gleaming tiara of diamonds and pearls worn by all Mardovian brides drew and dazzled the eye. Beside her, with one chubby little hand clinging on tightly, walked the toddling shape of her little niece—her only bridesmaid.

      And then Luc looked into Lisa’s face. At the unsmiling lips and shuttered eyes, and a sense of disappointment whispered over him. She certainly wasn’t feigning a joy she clearly didn’t feel! Her expression was more suited to someone about to attend their own execution rather than their wedding.

      Yet could he blame her? She had never sought closeness—other than the purely physical variety. This must be the last thing in the world she wanted. His jaw tightened. And what about him? He had never intended for this to happen either. Yet it had happened. Fate had presented him with a very different kind of destiny from the one mapped out for him, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. He stared at her as a powerful sense of certainty washed over him. Except vow to be the best father and husband he could possibly be.

      Could he do that?

      ‘Are you okay?’ he questioned as she reached his side.

      Okay? Chewing on her lip, Lisa bent to direct her little niece over to the ornate golden chair to sit beside her mother. No, she was not okay. She felt like a puppet. Like a thing. She was being dragged into matrimony like some medieval bride who had just been bought by her powerful master.

      But if she was being forced to go through with this marriage, maybe she ought to do it with at least the appearance of acceptance. Wouldn’t it be better not to feed the prejudices of his staff when she sensed they already resented his commoner bride? So she forced a smile as she stepped up beside Luc’s towering figure.

      ‘Ecstatic,’ she murmured and met the answering glint in his eyes.

      The СКАЧАТЬ