Page 23 of Royal Catch
He crooks his finger at me from where he stands by the sofa.
I cross to him without a second thought, and he waits for me to sit before taking a seat next to me. I’ll say one thing for royalty, they sure do have nice manners. There’s some space between us and a definite tension in the air.
I clear my throat. “So what’s up?”
He stretches his arms along the back of the sofa, leaning back in a relaxed pose that doesn’t fool me for a minute. He’s holding himself tightly in check. A man of honor who won’t touch a virgin, I remind myself. “I wanted to talk to you about the competition.”
I look around the room, searching for cameras. “Is this being filmed?”
“No.”
I relax a little and look at him, feeling hopeful. Maybe he really is going to help me win. It’ll be hard to leave, knowing I’ll never see him again, but at least I’ll know I saved Polly.
“Which two princesses do you think we should ask to leave? Many failed at today’s challenge.”
It’s not what I hoped he’d say, but I’m honest. “I’d kick off everyone but Marguerite and Francesca. They have backbones.”
He lifts a sardonic brow. “And I need a backbone in a wife?”
I straighten. “Hell yeah. Otherwise they’ll be crying into their pillow, worrying you don’t love them.”
He looks mildly amused, his full lips flirting with a smile that I’m suddenly desperate to see. He lowers his arms from the back of the sofa and leans closer. “And why would they think that?”
“Because your contempt for their weakness would show.”
His head jerks back like I’ve shocked him. Finally he seems to recover himself and informs me coldly, “I would’ve been content with an arranged marriage through royal channels, as it’s always been done.”
“That’s so sad. Don’t you want love and passion?”
His voice is husky, his stunning blue-green eyes warm on mine. “What do you know of love and passion? Aren’t you a virgin?”
My stomach dips. This is a dangerous game. I am not me in these circumstances. I cannot give in to lusty impulses. It’s the real Polly who will bear the brunt of my actions. I cross my arms, drawing on brash belligerence. “I know I want it.”
“Do you?” he asks silkily.
“Is that all you wanted to talk to me about?” I can’t bring myself to ask for compensation again, especially with the heat simmering between us just waiting for the tiniest of sparks to ignite it. I know it would be insanely hot between us, and I also know, deep down, it would be wrong. No matter how much I wish it weren’t true. I can’t have it both ways—be a virgin princess (in order to save one) and be me taking what I selfishly want.
“Tonight we’ll have dinner in my suite,” he says. It’s not a question. He’s a man used to having his demands met promptly and in full. He’s the goddamn crown prince of Villroy. One day he will be king.
I ignore his request because he will not bemyking. He will, some day in the future, be only a fantasy for me, a remembered ache, a longing left unsatisfied. “What about this? The next competition is for all the marbles. Do or die, only one princess left standing. And then she has a choice of you or diamonds.”
His jaw clenches so hard I fear he’s going to crack a molar. “So it’s me or the cash equivalent? And what value would you place on that?”
I bluster on, keenly aware he’s close to kicking me out. “You arewayhigh on value. Like millions’, billions’, trillions’ worth. Practically priceless.”
“And if the winner chooses the millions, then who would be my bride?”
“Runner-up?”
He gives me a cold smile. “I believe the next challenge should involve spiders.”
“You’ll scare all the women away with that one.” I hate that there’s a tremor in my voice. Spiders are my one weird phobia. And somehow I don’t think Francesca would be scared away. Which would she value more—the crown prince or the cold hard cash?
He stands. “Only the weak.”
I leap to my feet at the insult, turn, and stalk toward the door. Pride has me turning back to set him straight. “It’s not weak to have a legitimate phobia. Look it up. It’s called arachnophobia.”
He closes the distance between us alarmingly fast, glowering down at me. “My queen must be fearless, strong, and adhere strictly to the rules. It’s clear that is not you.”
