Page 21 of Twisted Royals

He sobered, letting me see the man I’d watched shake down whole-ass governments for funding. “If I’m seen to be behaving badly, I’m thought to be a wastrel. The world’s attention is on my exploits, and not on the changes I’m making to Agafonza’s constitution.”

Leaning closer, he took my hand and kissed my knuckles. “They’re not looking at me while I turn Agafonza into an independent country with a democratic government and full United Nations backing. I don’t want Russia to ever have another chance to take my homeland from my people.”

“You mean to be the last prince who has to marry against his will.”

Except… he hadn’t mentioned his upcoming marriage. He was all about his people’s wellbeing—not his.

“I do.”

“Have you found your bride yet? You’re running out of time.”

Please say no. Please say no…

“I’m working toward that as we speak.”

Forgetting the food, I got up, then rounded the table and straddled his lap. What I was about to do would hurt something fierce, but I couldn’t let his dream turn to ash.

SAVVA

My cock thickened as Damaris kissed me. Her sweetly curvaceous body rubbing against me didn’t help matters either. I wanted nothing more than to take her back to bed, but when I opened my mouth to ask her, she put her callused hand over my mouth.

“Shh.” She moved her hand and stole another kiss. “I’m going to help you, promise.”

“I’m sorry?”

Resting her forehead against mine, she sighed, then straightened and gave me a sad smile. “I’m being really selfish for not stopping now, but we can’t sleep together after this week is over.”

“If you are selfish, then so am I as I’d like it to be longer.” I brushed a fingertip over her jaw and frowned when a tear sparkled at the corner of one lovely brown eye. “You must tell me why you’re sad, and why I can’t make you scream in pleasure when we return to Agafonza.”

“What happens in Stockholm stays in Stockholm.” She brushed the tear away and climbed off my lap. “When we get back to Agafonza, I’m going to help you find a wife, so you don’t lose everything you’ve worked for. I’m sad because I can’t keep sleeping with you when you’re fixing to marry someone else. It’s not right, and we can’t disrespect your future wife like that.”

Unable to contain my shock, I studied her for several seconds as I tried to convince something intelligent to come from my mouth. I couldn’t tell her I’d already chosen my bride, nor could I ask her to set the plan aside without rousing her suspicions.

“I see.”

“We’ll ask your mama too. I bet she knows lots of eligible princesses.” Damaris flushed and looked away. “Maybe one you actually get along with who could be a good co-ruler for you.”

“Sit. We’ll enjoy our food while we talk about it.”

“Okay.” Obviously hungry, she ate several bites of her pasta, then devoured the greens. “These aren’t collards, but they’re good. What is it?”

“Chard, I believe.” Trying to decide how to convince my future wife to abandon her hunt for a bride for me, I ate my steak on autopilot.

“I’ll have to start buying it when I go home.” She dipped a fried potato into her horseradish and ate it with her fingers. “Anyway, what kind of princess are you looking for? Maybe a preferred nationality?”

“Someone intelligent,” I murmured. “She will be a hard worker, and beautiful, but will have no idea of her appeal. Her true beauty will shine from the inside.”

“Gotcha. What else?”

“You—” I cleared my throat and took a sip from my water glass. “Excuse me. She will be kind, unspoiled, and down-to-earth, with no artifice or pretense. She will do what she believes is right even when it hurts her.”

“Heck, sugar, with a description like that, I want to marry her too.” She laughed and took a sip of wine, then dug into her steak. “Beautiful is kind of synonymous with princess though, so let’s narrow it down. Where do you want her to hail from? There might be a few British ones we can coax out of the woodwork.”

“She needn’t be a princess at all.” Wishing I could take the wine from her in case I’d already gotten her pregnant, I set my fork aside and wondered how much longer I’d be able to maintain the charade. Thankfully, Damaris wasn’t in the habit of overindulging—at least according to the investigator I’d hired to research her history. “Perhaps my bride could come from America.”

“Nice. That opens things up.” She stood and went to the large desk positioned near the window. After finding a pen and notepad, she returned to the table and started writing. “How many kids do you want?”

“As many as we decide upon together.”

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