Page 3 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

‘You haven’t heard what I’m willing to offer you for the land yet,’ he said, not taking the bait.Yet.

‘I cannot sell you the land, Mr Lord,’ she said. On that much she had to be clear. No Androlov had ever sold off any of the kingdom, it was the royal family’s heritage and, as the last of her line, she did not intend to be the first to break that tradition. It was why she was being forced to think outside the box—wayoutside the box.

‘Then why did you agree to this meeting?’ he said, his scepticism searing.

‘Because I have another proposition.’

‘Uh-huh. Let’s hear it,’ he said. Taking the bait.Finally.

‘I will lease you the land you require for your resort.’

‘A lease is no good to—’

‘For one hundred years with all requisite permissions to develop it which you may require, as long as you stick to Androvia’s strict rules on sustainability,’ she countered before he could sidetrack her again. ‘But on one condition.’

His frown levelled off. ‘Go on.’

She took a steadying breath, let it out slowly, and—feeling oddly exhilarated—forced herself to let go of twenty-two years of caution and control, so she could finally take charge of her own—and her country’s—destiny.

‘You agree to marry me, Mr Lord.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘IBEGYOURPARDON, ma’am?’ Travis growled, finally managing to contain his astonishment—and the uncomfortable jolt of lust—long enough to form a coherent sentence.

Had the Queen of Androvia just proposed to him? Because that was what it had sounded like. But maybe the twelve-hour flight here from Colorado was messing with his hearing—he sure as heck hoped so.

‘You are absolutely correct to suggest Androvia needs investment, Mr Lord,’ the Queen replied in a calm, measured voice, as if they were still discussing a land deal, and not something totally nuts. ‘And my people desperately need the employment opportunities a resort such as yours would offer. But the only way to allow a construction of this nature on the White Ridge is for you to marry me because the ridge, like all Androvia’s royal real estate, is held in a trust, which stipulates any development can only be authorised by a man of royal birth, in other words a king, or by a queen if she is married.’

Not hallucinating, then. Damn.

‘I am assuming, of course, you have no royal heritage of your own,’ she added, her tone clipped and condescending.

‘Funnily enough, no,’ he said, his own tone caustic.

He wasn’t ashamed of his heritage, or rather the lack of it. His old man had been a rich guy, but he’d been married to someone else when Travis’s mom had fallen for the bastard as a teenager and then fallen pregnant. But so what? Travis had never wanted the guy’s wealth, or his acknowledgement. He hadn’t needed it. Because he’d done just fine on his own.

The Queen didn’t seem aware she had insulted him though—because her expression barely changed as she started to outline her nutty scheme.

‘Then marriage to me is the only way you would be allowed to build on the land. Or I would be allowed to let you,’ she said, still in that matter-of-fact tone. But then he noticed her gaze wasn’t meeting his and her posture had stiffened.

Maybe the controlled indifference was a bluff? Why that gave him a rush he had no idea, but he’d take it, if it meant he could regain the upper hand.

‘Hold on,’ he said. ‘Who the hell has the power to stop you doing what you want if you’re the Queen?’ he asked, because he was beginning to smell a rat. ‘Androvia is similar to a constitutional principality, like Monaco, right? You’re the head of state and the Ruling Council run the government, but you still own all the land.’

She would have to be desperate to offer a nobody like him marriage—and that was before they considered the fact he was a stranger, unlike the prince next door.

‘I see you’ve done your homework,’ she said, clearly surprised he’d bothered. He bristled, but he let it go. He was used to people underestimating him. And it usually worked in his favour.

‘In answer to your question, as I am the monarch I am the beneficial owner of the land, but I cannot break this trust, as it was set up by my father, to protect me, when I was still a child,’ she said.

His frown deepened. How the heck did stopping her from having authority over her own financial affairs just because she wasn’t a guy, or married to one, protect her, exactly?

‘I believe my father felt an alliance between myself and Prince Rene would be good for both our kingdoms and he wished to facilitate that. But I’m sure if he had lived long enough to know me as an adult, he would have realised I am capable of making intelligent decisions about the land on my own.’

Despite the telling lack of emotion in her voice as she spoke, something flashed in her gaze, when it met his then flicked away again. He wasn’t sure what that something was—disappointment maybe, confusion perhaps, even unresolved grief.

The pulse of sympathy pushed against his chest. Hadn’t both her folks died in a helicopter crash when she was still just a kid?

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