Page 55 of Modern Romance Collection December 2024 Books 5-8

‘I don’t care if it’s not unusual for him,’ she said, knowing that while Rene might be extremely unreliable, Mel certainly was not. ‘It’s utterly unprecedented for Mel to disappear without a word. We need to contact the police,’ she said, her fear rising. Mel simply would not do something so irresponsible as to go off like this, especially with a man she could barely say two words to without starting an argument. ‘And start a search for them both.’

Arne’s eyebrows rose. ‘But, Your Majesty, that will create unnecessary press speculation. And be an embarrassment for the Saltzaland monarchy.’

‘I don’t care if it’s an embarrassment,’ she shouted, forced to raise her voice. Why wasn’t Arne listening to her?

‘Hey, Belle, what’s all the yelling about?’

Isabelle turned to see Travis leaning against the door frame of her office. Relief flooded through her at the sight of him—so tall and indomitable—and the wild rush of pleasure followed... He had called her Belle. Her heart bounced into her throat. Stupid to think she had missed that silly nickname so much, too. But before she could find the words to explain to him why she was so anxious, Arne bowed deeply and began speaking in that patronising tone again.

‘Your Highness,’ Arne said, addressing Travis. ‘The Queen is concerned about the whereabouts of her personal assistant, Ms Taylor, but I have assured her there is nothing to worry about.’

‘Arne, I think I should be the judge of that...’ she began, becoming increasingly annoyed with her courtier. He had always had issues with female authority, but she had never had her direct requests countermanded before.

As Travis pushed away from the door and walked towards them both, the flood of yearning only increased the emotional turmoil inside her.

What was happening to her? Why was she so happy to see him?Wasshe overreacting? As Arne suggested? She didn’t think so—her concern about Mel was totally justified. But somehow the sight of Travis was playing havoc with her composure, as well as her convictions. Especially when he reached her and she got a lungful of that familiar scent. The yearning surged, but right alongside it was the foolish feeling of hope that had been crucifying her for days now.

‘I want you to contact the police, Arne,’ she said to her chief courtier again. ‘There is no need to contact the media as yet. But we may need to arrange a press conference if the two of them cannot be found,’ she said, determined to ignore her overwhelming reaction to Travis’s nearness to focus on the problem at hand.

‘But, Your Majesty—’ the courtier began again.

‘Arne, do what she tells you,’ Travis interjected, the commanding tone brooking no argument.

To Isabelle’s relief Arne bowed again, finally having got the message. ‘Yes, Your Highness,’ he said to Travis, before leaving the room.

But as the office door closed behind the courtier, and she found herself alone with the man who was not supposed to be her real husband, the relief twisted inside her, becoming hard and jagged. Why did she feel so weak and needy all of a sudden? She shouldn’t rely on Travis’s support. Any more than she should be grateful Arne had listened to him and not her—when she was his queen, and Travis wasn’t even a real consort.

‘Okay, so what’s the problem? And why do you feel you need to involve the police?’ he asked. But she could see the shuttered look in his eyes that had made her feel so alone in the past few days.

‘Mel has gone missing,’ she said, retreating behind her desk, her feelings far too close to the surface. ‘She and Rene haven’t been seen since they left the New Year’s Eve Ball, which I forced her to go to in my stead,’ she added, the guilt washing over her.

Travis propped his hip against the desk and crossed his legs at the ankle, the casual stance displaying a confidence she had never felt around him.

Why was this so easy for him? When it was so hard for her?

‘So why isn’t Arne concerned?’ he asked.

She sat down, and stared out of the window onto the gorge, determined not to feel intimidated by his relaxed demeanour. Or to second-guess her reaction again.

The snow had been falling since New Year’s Day, blanketing the country and making travel increasingly difficult. What if Rene and Mel had somehow got lost in the white-out? It was a five-hour drive through the high country to the White Palace from Gaultiere Castle in Saltzaland. And they would have been driving at night. But when Travis continued to wait for her answer, she was forced to admit the other explanation.

‘Because Arne—and apparently everyone else on my staff and Rene’s—thinks that Mel has suddenly lost her senses and gone off on an...’ she lifted her hands to do air quotes ‘...an “assignation” with a man she has never liked.’

Travis let out a gruff chuckle that stabbed at the heart of all Isabelle’s insecurities. It angered her that Arne hadn’t taken her seriously, but it hurt to see him do it too.

‘The Playboy Prince strikes again, huh?’ he murmured.

She stood to slap her hands on the desk. ‘Don’t you dare laugh, or make light of this,’ she said, allowing her temper to seal up the empty space, at least a little bit, which was always there now when she was near him.

‘Cool it, Your Majesty.’ He lifted his hands and levered himself off the desk, the mocking gesture belied by the hard glitter in his eyes. ‘I’m just offering an opinion.’

‘I don’t want your opinion,’ she said, determined to finally stand up for herself. ‘And don’t call me Your Majesty when you have no respect for my office whatsoever.’

The hard glitter darkened, the flash of emotion behind the mask of casual charm somehow vindicating. Until he spoke.

‘That would be the office you use as a shield, so you don’t have to feel any real emotions, is it?’ He ground the words out, his anger as shocking as the chasm opening up in the pit of her stomach at the contempt in his eyes. ‘You’re damn right I don’t have any respect for it. But hey, your friend’s booty call is not my problem. I only came to tell you I’m heading back to Colorado for a couple of weeks.’

He turned to leave.

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