Page 31 of The Princess Trap
He sighed. “Cherry… People, generally speaking, are amoral, arse-licking hypocrites. If you’re some woman I kissed in an alley, they’ll despise you; once you’re a princess-to-be, they’ll discover boundless liberal sentiment. I’ll be a pioneer of the modern age. You see what they’re saying about your country’s royal family, don’t you?”
She set her jaw, refusing to allow that point. “But I’mnota princess-to-be. I haven’t agreed to this.”
“But you will,” he said softly. “If you weren’t going to, you’d have told me so already. Wouldn’t you?”
Cherry looked at the contract. She looked at her hands. She remembered her mother’s face two years ago, the day Maggie had received her acceptance letter from Harvard. She remembered the last time she’d stayed with her parents, over Christmas, when they’d refused to turn the central heating on. Acting like they didn’t need to.
When really they couldn’t.
She said, “How do I know this contract is real?”
“You know it’s real,” he said calmly. “But it’s just a draft of the version we would sign, should you agree to this. I’m sure you understand it.”
She pressed her lips together. She worked in HR; so yes, she could read a damned contract. But she relied on people assuming that she couldn’t. It was always easier to control a situation when no-one thought you were capable of doing so.
“Take a look,” he said, nodding towards the papers in her lap. “See if the whole arrangement is to your satisfaction.”
She flicked through, scanning each page with an ease born of practice. It wasn’t the kind of document she came across often, but that didn’t really matter. These things were all based on the same principles, and she knew those principles like the back of her hand.
It wasn’t tricky. There was no double-talk, nothing to suggest he was trying to confuse or manipulate her. Just basic terms, caveats, detailed specifics. They would remain engaged for a year, at which pointshewould leavehim—interesting. During that year, she would be bound by the same obligations as he was, so far as royal duties went.Royal duties—wasn’t that a fucking trip? She’d spend most of her time in Helgmøre, but not all of it. She could visit with family whenever she wanted for up to two weeks at a time. She couldn’t tell anyone of their agreement, blah blah blah…
Cherry looked up. “You know you’ve forced me into this. You understand that, right?”
He looked stricken. “I—”
“You let me think you were just some guy. You kissed me knowing that something like thiscouldhappen. Then you opened your big mouth and made it happen. You have all the power in the fucking world compared to me, and I…” She huffed out a laugh. “I need money. Have you ever needed money?”
His face was solemn as he said, “No. I have never needed money.”
“Lucky fucking you.” She stared down at the contract. “I don’t want to do this.”
“Cherry—”
“But I’m going to. I’m going to lie to everyone I know, lie to theworld.”Just the thought of it turned her stomach. “Andyou’regoing to pay me. And in a year, I will walk away and do my best to pretend this never happened, even though everything about me will have changed. So just know that I will sign this contract, and I will fulfil my obligations, but… you and me? That’s not happening. Not even a little bit. Not anymore.”
He swallowed, hard. Nodded. And said, “Yes. I understand. I do.”
“Good.” She slapped the contract into his lap. “So we’re going to Helgmøre, then?”
“As soon as possible, yes.”
“Crap.” Various problems sprang to mind, though they seemed mundane in light of what she’d just agreed to. “I’ll have to take Whiskey, obviously. God, I’ll have to quit my job. Rose will be scandalised. But I’ll never have to workwith Chris again.” She smiled. “Hm. Silver linings, and all that…”
Ruben leaned forward, his brow furrowed as he asked, “Whiskey?”
Oh, right. “My cat,” Cherry explained.
Ruben sighed. “I see.”
Chapter Eleven
The private jet descended bit by bit, and Ruben kept his eyes on Cherry. She, despite her obvious disgust for him, did not look away. No; she stared him down like they were rival gunslingers in the wild west, and she was shooting to kill.
It might turn him on if it weren’t for the fact that she genuinely disliked him. And she had a damned good reason to.
As the plane circled his family’s little landing strip, Ruben fought the sense of dread that had been growing since the moment she’d agreed to this charade. It made no sense—she’d done exactly what he’d hoped she’d do. Exactly what he’d wanted her to do. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d smiled at him when they’d first met—just three days ago. He already knew that she’d never smile at him like that again.
This was probably the fastest he’d ever fucked somethingup. Dragging Cherry into his life felt like dragging a princess off to his lair. He was almost certainly the dragon in this fairytale.
