Page 15 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

But as much as she did not wish to test those barriers, Isabelle knew she couldn’t remain silent any longer. There was too much they needed to discuss... Especially concerning the wedding ceremony itself. And its immediate aftermath.

Unfortunately, she had been unable to address these important details as they’d skied, and snowboarded down the trail, because she had been tongue-tied by the memory of him wrestling her to the ground. And the intent expression on his face as his gaze had shifted to her mouth. In that moment, while he’d held her down in the snow, she’d seen something intoxicating in his eyes—not just approval, but need. And for a second—a pregnant, endless, disturbing second—her heart had slowed from a giddy two-step to a heavy, one-two punch—and all her hopes and dreams had centred on the fierce desire to have him kiss her again.

Utter madness, obviously.

What had she been thinking? Cavorting with him like a teenager? Because, even after an hour, the memory of his big body pressing hers into the snow, his heavy breathing from their exertions visible in the frosty air, his gaze dark and serious, still felt like too much—and also not nearly enough.

He glanced at her, his lips quirking in the half-smile she found aggravating and captivating all at once.

‘I thought I told you there would be trouble if you called me Mr Lord.’

‘Sorry, I meant Travis, of course,’ she said, flustered—again.

Her gaze strayed to his mouth, then jerked to his face, to find him watching her. Her cheeks burned.

For goodness’ sake, Issy, stop thinking about the kiss that never happened.

‘We have a lot to discuss,’ she blurted out. ‘Especially concerning the wedding ceremony. I think it best we marry as soon as possible—to facilitate the lease agreement.’ She began to talk too fast, the words tumbling out of dry lips as she struggled to regain her composure. And keep her focus firmly on logistics and not the memory of his mouth lowering to hers.

‘Obviously neither of us wants to have a full-blown royal wedding, especially as this is not a real marriage, and time is of the essence, but once I tell the Ruling Council about our engagement there will be expectations that we—’

‘What expectations?’ He interrupted her.

The scowl had returned. The one he’d worn on the ridge while asking—or rather demanding—she dismiss her bodyguards. It had occurred to her several times in the past hour—as she had tried to understand her subsequent behaviour—that giving into that request had been the rock on which her common sense had perished. Or rather, very nearly perished.

‘As I’m Androvia’s monarch,’ she began, attempting to gather what was left of her wits, again, ‘my wedding will have to be in the public eye.’

The scowl deepened. ‘How public?’

‘Public enough to convince the world ours is a real marriage.’

‘Give me specifics,’ he said. ‘A ballpark figure for guest numbers, media imprints, time frames, et cetera.’

‘I can’t possibly give you those figures until I’ve spoken to my Privy Council and employed a team to do the planning.’ She scowled back. ‘I just wanted to make you aware a royal wedding—however low-key—is a public event. We will also have to arrange a short honeymoon. But I’ve already cleared my schedule to accommodate a wedding date on the twenty-first of December, if that is amenable. So, a few days off over the Christmas break during which we would remain in the palace should suffice to fulfil the honeymoon commitment.’ She stopped abruptly, aware she was babbling again.

‘That’s a lot of extra stuff you’re asking me to commit to,’ he growled.

Really? Was it that much to ask? When he was getting land worth millions for a single dollar? ‘As I said,’ she beganagain, ‘I will endeavour to ensure the time requirements are not onerous for you.’

He stared at her for the longest time. ‘Okay.’

Relief coursed through her—even though she wasn’t sure why. If getting the most basic of commitments out of him was this hard, how would she ever make this work for an entire year?

But before she could point this out to him, he added, ‘I can make the twenty-first work, just about, to relocate my base to Androvia for the resort project.’

‘Fabulous,’ she said, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

‘But I have a couple of conditions.’

‘What conditions?’

‘We make the honeymoon trip two weeks instead of a couple of days and we stay at my cabin in Colorado.’

‘But...What?’ she asked, or rather croaked. ‘But that really isn’t necessary,’ she said. ‘A working holiday in the palace on Christmas and Boxing Day will be more than sufficient. Plus, we will be expected to make some public appearances in the days immediately after the nuptials. And between Christmas and New Year.’

‘No way. The wedding is public enough. Plus I always take a couple of weeks off over Christmas to recharge. And if I’m going to have to play nice for the wedding, not to mention spend a year in Androvia, I’m gonna need the break even more than usual.’

She could hear the surly tone, but also the steely determination.

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