Page 63 of Mistaken as His Royal Bride

And then to work as the Queen’s lady-in-waiting for a year. Why had she done that? Why hadn’t she wanted the world to know she was part of the royal family?

He couldn’t ask her now, because she was gone.

Maddening, infuriating woman.

Her words came back to him.‘You didn’t have to be tender.’

No, there had been no need for tenderness. But with her he hadn’t been in control of his impulses.

Passion didn’t last, he told himself now—desperately. It never had in the past. It had burned bright, or not even that bright, and then faded like a dying firework.This, however—this thing that was between them—wasn’t fading. Not even now that he knew the full extent of her betrayal.

But she hadn’t told him the full truth of who she was, and that stung more than anything.

He’d trusted her. In spite of her initial deception. And he’d only realised the profundity of how easily that had happened when his friend had told him who she really was. Yet she hadn’t trusted him.

He’d been harsh. He’d never been harsh with a woman before. Because no other woman had ever got under his skin before. And not just under his skin. Into his gut. Into his head.

Into his emotions.

He’d learnt from his parents that uncontrollable desire and love were self-destructive. He’d lived his life believing that he was immune to those things. His life was all about control. And that included his emotions. Until now.

It burned him to admit this, but he’d actually imagined her by his side. He’d imagined somehow being able to bring her in front of his people and have them accept her, even though he’d believed she wasn’t of royal blood.

Because he hadn’t been able to countenance the thought of not having her by his side...in his bed. And yet she hadn’t trusted him with vital information. Proof that he was the fool. The idiot who had forgotten the lessons of a lifetime...

He slugged back another shot of whisky and cursed Maddi Smith again. He would ban her from Santanger. He would find a suitable royal princess and get on with the task at hand. Being King and siring heirs.

And all these rogue thoughts of perhaps being an actual father and wanting something different for the first time in his life, wantingmore, would be pushed back down where they belonged.

There was a sound at the door and Ari turned around, his heart leaping, making a total mockery of his recent thoughts. But it wasn’t her. It was someone else.

His brother.

He looked at Dax across the room and was filled with such a sense of incoherent rage for everything that had happened that he said, ‘Where the hell have you been?’

Dax looked as grim as Ari felt. He also looked a little wild. Jaw heavily stubbled and hair too long. His brother was wearing faded jeans and a wrinkled shirt. He looked as disreputable as he always did. But there was something different about him that Ari couldn’t put his finger on, but it resonated in him as if he recognised what it was instinctively.

A woman.

His brother came in and arched a brow. ‘Drinking before noon, Ari? Have you decided to join my gang?’

Dax smiled, but it was mirthless as he helped himself to a shot of whisky, quickly downed it and then filled his glass with another.

Ari looked at him. ‘Dax...?’

Dax looked at him. ‘I’m sorry, Ari.’

‘For what?’

‘For not bringing Laia back in time. We were... She has this island in Malaysia. That’s where we’ve been. I couldn’t leave.’

Then a look that Ari couldn’t decipher came over Dax’s face. There was something fierce about it.

‘You know you can’t marry her, right?’

Ari said, ‘Yes, I know.’

The ferocity left Dax’s face. He said, ‘You’ll find another princess.’

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