Claiming His Princess: Duty at What Cost? / A Throne for the Taking / Princess in the Iron Mask. Kate Walker
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      She was instantly transported to the single night they had shared together. As much as the passion between them had shocked her, it had also thrilled her. She wondered—No, Ava. Not only was Wolfe not interested in fostering a long-term relationship with a woman, he had said himself that their ‘ship’ had ‘definitely sailed’.

      ‘WE ARE NOT stopping, Ava, and that’s that.’

      Ava knew her father’s face had taken on the stony hue that had used to scare her as a child, but she steadfastly kept smiling at the sea of people waving flags along the tree-lined boulevard as the royal coach trotted slowly down the centre of Anders.

      Every year citizens and tourists came out in droves to celebrate Anders Independence Day, with a plethora of sumptuously themed floats and gaily designed costumes. This year there was a more sombre mood to the proceedings, with many of the floats carrying her brother’s picture. It made Ava want to reach out to her people to make up for Frédéric’s loss. After her conversation with Wolfe three nights ago she knew that she could either let her insecurities control her or…try.

      So she had.

      And it felt like a blessed release finally to make some of the hard decisions she hadn’t realised she’d been actively resisting. One had been to inform her artists that she would be helping them find new representation when her gallery closed down the following month, and the other had been to start sitting in on business meetings with her father’s advisors. The workload was intense, and there were aspects of ruling her country that made her head spin, but she felt as if she was making inroads. Slowly.

      Slow inroads into everything except her relationship with her father. Just this morning he had been lecturing her about making a decision on the five ‘expressions of interest,’ as he referred to the marriage proposals he had already received on her behalf, without even considering her view. As far as he was concerned she should bow down to her destiny, and he saw nothing wrong with the fact that one of those proposals had arrived from a man she hadn’t even met!

      But Ava wasn’t ready to compromise on that point. And with Wolfe sitting opposite her, sublime in a designer suit, his gaze scanning back and forth over the joyous crowd, she didn’t even want to think about it.

      Instead she marshalled her determination to make her father respect her and kept a calm smile on her face as she addressed him. ‘I need to walk some of the way.’

      Her father nodded benevolently to his people. ‘I won’t repeat myself, Ava.’

      ‘I know it’s not the way we’ve traditionally done the avenue ride,’ she said. ‘But if I am going to rule Anders it’s important to me that our people don’t see me as a distant figure. Especially since I have lived in Paris for so long.’

      Her father glanced at Wolfe. ‘Tell her it’s too dangerous.’

      ‘The King has a point,’ Wolfe conceded. ‘It is never a good idea to make last-minute changes to your itinerary.’

      Ava felt her stomach plunge as he sided with her father, instantly recognising the emotion that gripped her as a feeling of betrayal. After the gala ball she felt as if they had formed a friendship of sorts. She had enjoyed his company as he had escorted her to and from meetings, had enjoyed him sitting in with her to ensure her safety, and been surprised and thankful when on a couple of occasions he’d offered some keen business insights that had been beyond her understanding at the time.

      Most of all, though, she loved how when everyone else had left for the day he brought her a cup of her favourite tea without her having to ask. Nobody, she had realised that first time, ever did anything for her without her having to ask first.

      She looked across at him, willing him to understand. ‘But it can be done.’

      Her father’s face tightened. ‘Why are you always so determined to defy me?’

      ‘This is not about defiance, sir,’ Ava insisted, holding back her tendency to disconnect from her father in order to keep her goal in sight. ‘If you can give me one good reason why I shouldn’t walk amongst our people then I’ll listen.’

      ‘It’s a break in tradition.’

      ‘Why can’t I start a new one?’

      ‘A safety risk, then.’

      Of course Ava knew he was right, but she also recognised that fear was debilitating. ‘Is it important to rule safely, Father?’ she asked softly. ‘Or with integrity?’

      Her father turned from the window and stared at her, his expression pained. ‘You always were a smart child, Ava, but you’re still not leaving this carriage. Wolfe—’ he spoke while still smiling and waving ‘—stop her before she does something stupid.’

      Ava hated the fact that yet another man held something so important to her in his power. She lifted her chin, wondering how she would react when Wolfe sounded the death knell to her idea. It was important to her on so many levels…

      Fortunately her determination wasn’t to be tested on this as Wolfe, his expression stern, broke her steady gaze to address her father. ‘My job is to keep her safe, Your Majesty, not to stop her.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      Wolfe turned from the narrow window that had once formed part of a parapet when he heard Ava step into the small room he was using as an office. He’d thought she would want to make an early night of it, worn out after walking for miles that day and thrilling her people with handshakes and good wishes. On the contrary, she looked fresh and still buzzed, dressed in some sort of yoga outfit that left little to his hyperactive imagination.

      He knew why she was thanking him, but she’d put him in an impossible position with her earnest request and he was still fuming about it. ‘It was a foolish thing to do.’

      ‘Maybe.’ She threw him a brief smile. ‘But I needed to do it and you understood that.’

      ‘I understood you had a crazy idea and it came off okay this time. Next time it might not.’

      ‘Life’s a risk, no?’ She cocked her head. ‘I would have thought your job was full of them.’

      ‘Calculated risks are different from spontaneous reactions.’

      ‘It wasn’t a spontaneous reaction,’ she said indignantly. ‘I’d thought about it all morning.’

      ‘Next time you might want to share that,’ he said dryly.

      ‘Okay.’ She shrugged. ‘I take your point, but it doesn’t stop me from being happy that I did it.’

      Wolfe grunted in response and made the mistake of moving to stand behind his desk. He’d had to train himself to ignore her delicious scent all week, but this close, in the confines of this suddenly overheated room, it was nearly impossible to do.

      When she didn’t make a move to leave he glanced at her. ‘Was there something else?’

      ‘Yes. Do you have any news on who might have killed my brother?’

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