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

‘Is a marriage without conjugal rights not the correct term for a marriage without intimacy involved?’ she pointed out. Then realised she’d made another error when he chuckled again—the amusement in his dark eyes turning the hazel to a rich chocolate... Annoyingly.

‘Yeah, sure, maybe back in the eighteenth century,’ he said, still amusing himself at her expense.

Before she could point out how rude he was being—because,really?—he carried on talking. ‘So let me get this straight, you want me to marry you, but you don’t want me to sleep with you?’

She dismissed the strange pang in her belly—which made no sense whatsoever, because it almost felt like disappointment. ‘Of course not, we have only just met.’

And she had never had sex with anyone. She cut off the errant thought before she could give him any inkling of that inconvenient truth.

Her sexual history was hardly relevant. And something about the way he sat in the leather armchair—unfazed by the direction of the conversation, one ankle hooked over his opposing knee as if he were the master of all he surveyed, the smile on his face both knowing and relaxed and far too confident—made her suspect letting him know she was a virgin would only make him more arrogant, and give him more power, when he already had enough. It was more than clear that Mr Lord had alotof experience in the bedroom—something he seemed to be not so subtly advertising to her, quite deliberately—making her sure she was at enough of a tactical disadvantage in this negotiation already.

Unfortunately, it was also a message her body was getting loud and clear—hence the insistent throbbing.

He released his ankle, to lean forward. ‘You want to marry me...’ he said. ‘But you don’t want to enjoy it? How is that gonna work...for either one of us?’

She frowned. Was he being deliberately obtuse, or was he just trying to antagonise her? Maybe it was a bit of both. Either way, she tried not to rise to the bait, or get derailed by the over-confident smile and the mocking twinkle.

Maybe this idea had been doomed from the start. She certainly hadn’t factored in the extent of Travis Lord’s insouciance, his irreverence, his arrogance, his strange sense of humour or his industrial-strength disregard for the strictures by which she had lived her entire life... His very masculine Americanness, basically. But she had become desperate to find a solution to her situation—when it had become apparent that to get her country the development and investment it so desperately needed—i.e. to drag it into the twenty-first century—she would have to either marry Rene or find someone else.

And as far as she was concerned, Travis Lord—for all his faults—was still the better option.

Yes, he was an unknown quantity, but Rene—and a marriage with him—certainly was not. It would be a disaster—Rene was, and had always been, a man much more interested in the reckless pursuit of debauchery than the needs of his kingdom and his monarchy. Plus, Rene wouldinsiston a sexual relationship. And expect a real marriage if they were to wed. For the simple reason that, as the last of his line too, he required an heir. And providing one, given his many sexual conquests, seemed to be the only thing he had any aptitude for.

She shuddered at the thought. One day, she would need to think about the continuation of her line, too. But not for a while. And when she did, she intended to take the necessary time to find a suitable match—a man she could admire, who would respect her and her duty. Perhaps she could even find love, the way her parents had once loved each other, but it would not be a dealbreaker. Because her duty to her throne, and her subjects, would always be her paramount concern. So, finding a man she could enjoy a settled, productive life with, who could share the burden of responsibility with her, rule by her side, enrich her kingdom with his wisdom, and be a good father to guide their children to maturity, was a distant goal at this point.

Obviously neither Travis Lord nor Rene Gaultiere would ever be that man. But all she required at present was a husband, in name only, to help her secure her country’s future, while also honouring the conditions of her father’s will.

‘It’s fairly simple, really,’ she said, determined to take his question at face value and ignore his attitude problem.

‘Enlighten me,’ he said.

She took another deep breath. Then proceeded to do just that. ‘I need a husband to be able to lease you the land. I do not wish to marry Rene, which was my father’s preferred choice when he set up the trust. But he did not stipulate who my husband had to be...’Thank goodness.‘Or that it was necessary he be of royal blood.’

He was still listening, and he hadn’t interrupted. Hope sparked. Maybe this didn’t have to be complicated after all. A simple transaction that would give them both what they wanted.

‘I can marry anyone. The man does not need to be a prince. Nor does it even need to be a real marriage. But I think, in view of the fact the Ruling Council are likely to be surprised by you as my choice...’ because the traditionalists on the council had already dropped enough hints that they considered Rene to be the best option ‘...it would make sense for us to pretend thisisa real marriage.’ She was starting to babble, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself, his silence somehow triggering the nerves that had once made her talk too much as a child on those rare occasions when she’d had her parents’ full attention. ‘Which would mean us pretending to be in love. For appearances’ sake... But given that you are such a successful businessman and you would be bringing a large portion of the infrastructure investment we all want for Androvia with this project, I’m sure the council will come around quickly.’

He nodded. ‘I get it. So, you think we can fool the council guys that we’re madly in love, while not touching each other?’

She blinked, taken aback by another direct question and the rueful amusement still sparkling in his eyes. Why was he so hung up on the sex bit? When she’d already explained it wasn’t relevant?

She forced herself to take a breath, and control her irritation... And her dismay. And give him a straight answer... After all, it was utterly impossible to tell what the man was thinking, so it was probably best not to overthink his question.

‘Displays of affection would be necessary in public, to sell the relationship as real. Obviously,’ she said, laying her cards on the table—while trying not to imagine those firm lips on hers. ‘But it’s generally not expected, in royal circles, for a couple to be too...’ Her face heated again.Wonderful!‘Too demonstrative. So, it really won’t be necessary for us to do anything too overt in public. And obviously in private, we would do nothing at all.’

He nodded, slowly. But then his gaze narrowed.

‘How long would this marriage have to last?’

The hope blossomed under her breastbone. This could work. He was considering it. The relief alongside that strange surge of sensation was almost palpable.

‘I think a year would suffice. After which we could get a divorce. We would of course agree to the terms of the separation in a legally binding confidential contract to protect both our interests before we marry. I believe Americans refer to it as a prenup.’ She’d already hired a respected divorce attorney in the US who had agreed to do all the necessary paperwork in absolute secrecy. Because Lord hadn’t said anything, though, Isabelle’s nerves demanded she fill the silence.

‘Fortunately, there is also no stipulation in the conditions of the trust that the marriage needs to last. Just that it needs to be in place for me to make commercial decisions about the land. And a year would give me sufficient time to develop and sign off on a number of other projects, as well as the lease agreement for your resort.’

Her heart thudded heavily in her chest, the sadness—that her father had been robbed of the chance to know her as an adult—springing from nowhere as she conjured up the precious image of his face. He had been so handsome and strong whenever Isabelle had been called into his and her mother’s presence as a little girl. She had idolised both her parents, always mindful that their time together was precious, their duties all-consuming. She would never blame him for putting conditions on her accession, which had become increasingly onerous in recent years. She knew he had had her best interests at heart. But she also refused to feel guilty about finding a way around them that would allow her to do her best for Androvia—without having to marry Rene.

‘Okay,’ Lord said, the amusement in his eyes turning to approval—and making the jolt of adrenaline worse. Which was preposterous. She did not require this man’s approval, simply his co-operation. ‘That’s super sneaky, but I like it,’ he said. ‘Your old man sounds like a sexist jerk, so it makes sense to game the guy...’

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