Page 79 of The Reluctant Wife

Once I go down there, and we announce to the world that I’m marrying Ryot, the word will be out, and there’ll be no turning back.Remember Verenza and how it’s citizens are going to benefit.It’s all going to be worth it. And meanwhile, I get to be with Ryot. I get to benefit from the orgasms, when he decides to bestow them on me, that is. And if I’m lucky—and persistent—I’ll be able to convince him this is not just a marriage of convenience but a forever relationship. A shiver of anticipation pinches my nerve-endings, but I don't dwell on it.

I need to focus, not on the sexy things Ryot has promised to do to me, but on my upcoming nuptials.

Meanwhile, Veronica looks at me with that strange light in her eyes. It’s fangirling; I need to let it go. She’s so taken in by the ‘Royal Princess’ image I try to portray, she can't see behind the façade I present to the world. Unlike Ryot, who figured me out right away.

He understands my insecurities and what it takes to live this role I’ve been born into. Too bad, he has his own ghosts preventing him from embracing this connection between us. Ghosts which, by the way, I intend to banish. Meanwhile, I’ll take what I get, and as long as it benefits Verenza, it’ll all be worth it.

"Come on." I walk past her. "It’s time to face the music."

39

Ryot

"I assume this makes you happy?" I turn on Arthur.

We’re in Arthur’s study with the family in tow.

Arthur’s seated in another armchair, this time, in the one closest to the living room fire. In addition, the heating has been turned on. The room is like a furnace. I wipe the bead of sweat from my brow, then loosen the tie around my neck. You’d think, after years in the Marines, I’d be comfortable with a formal suit, but ties are the bane of my existence. They make me feel claustrophobic. Which I take as a weakness, but which I’m told is normal for many who’ve seen action.

Arthur’s Great Dane, Tiny, lolls on the floor next to the fire. His tongue hangs out, and he watches us with curiosity.

"If you mean, you marrying the princess, I’m proud of you for coming up with the idea." Arthur raises a glass of water to his mouth.

His hand trembles. For the first time, I notice the dark circles under his eyes. He’s also hunched a little, tiredness writ in theangles of his face. Despite his diagnosis, the treatment Arthur has been undergoing has kept the disease in check. It also hasn’t impacted his lifestyle, which makes it easy to forget he’s not completely well. In comparison, his girlfriend Imelda, who’s standing behind him, looks a picture of health. The firelight plays off her slightly plump features and highlights the pink streaks in her short hair. She’s wearing her usual outfit of cargo pants and shit-kickers.

No dressing up for Imelda; not even for royalty. Her only concession is the pink blouse she’s teamed with the cargo pants. The entire outfit should look incongruous, but she manages to pull it off. When Arthur raises his other hand, she grips it.

He seems to draw strength from her, and his face brightens. "I couldn’t have done better myself," he murmurs.

“Not sure if I take that as a compliment,” I retort.

Tyler snorts from his on-guard position near the door.

Brody and Connor, who’re standing on either side of me, look between us with interest. We’re crowded around Arthur and Imelda.

Nathan and Knox are standing behind a Chesterfield which holds both of their wives. The king and Fred are deep in discussion on the other side of the room. Their voices are muted.

Quentin’s out, ensuring the security team has the place sewn up tight, to prevent any repetition of what happened earlier. It’s one of the reasons I feel a little more at ease.

Sinclair is sprawled in a recliner near the Chesterfield. All of them are following our discussion with avid curiosity.

"You’re losing your touch, Gramps,” Connor declares. “I’d have thought it would be you instead of Ryot coming up with the idea of marrying the princess in return for investing in Verenza.”

"The last thing I want is to become predictable, especially since the lot of you seem to be able to see through machinations," Arthur says in a mild voice. “I’d rather you boysemulate the kinds of tactics which have kept The Davenports going for more than three quarters of a century. My father—rest his soul—was Machiavellian when it came to the survival of the company. And while I hated his efforts, when I grew older, I realized he’d done the right thing. I don’t apologize for what I do to keep my bloodline intact. And I’m even more proud that you boys are following my example.”

Brody and Connor watch me carefully.

“I’m nothing like you,” I growl.

“Oh?” Arthur inclines his head.

“I’m marrying her because it’s the only way to stay close to her without arousing suspicions. It’s the only way to keep her safe.”

And to get you off my back about getting hitched.

Outwardly, I say, “Besides, The Davenport Group is always looking for places to invest. Given the economic condition of Verenza, there are bargains to be had. It’s a strategically sound decision.”

“That it is,” Arthur says slowly.

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