Page 29 of Awakened On Her Royal Wedding Night
Catching her breath, she moved to the mirror to admire it.
“I’ve never worn anything so lovely. Who do I say it came from?”
“Me.” His drawled tone said,Obviously.
“Wait.” She spun and touched it. “This isn’t agift. It’s just for show. Isn’t it?” She thought she might faint.
“It’s both.” There was that tone again, the one that laughed at her for her naivety.
The necklace perfectly reflected the theme of romance and love, yet she felt neither from him as she traced the cool shapes of the stones. She dropped her hand to her side.
“Felipe... I can’t accept this.”
He sobered as he studied her. “Given all that I expect of you, Claudine, I suggest you become very brazen about what you will accept as compensation. Shall we go?”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she let him guide her toward the door, but the weight of the necklace sat much more heavily upon her.
A private dining room would have been much simpler, security-wise. Felipe would also have preferred to have Claudine to himself, but he had asked Vinicio to arrange for them to dine at an exclusive restaurant that catered to corporate heirs and Europe’s nobility. The decor was a waterfall of dripping chandeliers and mirrored finishes, providing suitable sparkle as he showcased their new partnership.
Everyone turned their heads as they were shown to the best table. Felipe was used to that, but tonight they weren’t staring at him. They were mesmerized by the radiant woman he escorted.
He had been aware of the challenges she would face as a red-blooded American and not a blue-blooded aristocrat. After Felipe’s threats, Francois might think twice about coming for Claudine, but their mother would pick apart every choice she made. Queen Paloma had her own back channels and social circles who would attack Claudine’s ability to call herself worthy of a royal marriage.
When Felipe had checked on her wardrobe selection process, he had been looking for armor. He had wanted her to wear those refined styles in the sketches, the ones that would have allowed her to blend in.
She had taken him aback with her insight and he was still laughing with delight at her brilliance. Of course, they must sell a story of love at first sight. Of course. Besotted people were allowed to be impulsive and would be forgiven for any missteps.
Not that Claudine made a single one. She looked flawless as he held her chair then took his seat across from her.
He was the one who thought he might have miscalculated when her sheer beauty dried his throat. He found himself picking up her hand not to maintain an illusion of infatuation, but because he was unable to resist touching her.
Her gaze swept from the glittering city lights beyond the window to his eyes. Questions shimmered in the depths of her dilated pupils.
Inside him, something shifted as though a single brick scraped an inch out of place from an otherwise thick, weathered, impervious wall. He ignored the sensation and stroked his thumb across her knuckles.
Her lashes quivered and she swallowed.
Their server appeared with the first glass of wine from the menu that Vinicio had arranged for them.
When they were alone, she said, “Will you tell me exactly what you’re expecting from me?” Her voice faded as he let his brows go up. She pulled her hand from his. “For instance, is your laughing at me something I should learn to tolerate?”
“I can’t help that I find it amusing when you speak to me in a way no one else does. Not outside of my family, at least, and I don’t like them, so they don’t count.”
“You don’t like any of them?” She seemed distressed by that, even though she’d met all of them. She had to see it was warranted.
“I liked my aunt.” He nodded at her ring. “She died when I was still a child.”
She searched his expression, giving him time to expound on that, but he didn’t intend to. His affection for the outspoken woman had been as close to a grandmotherly relationship as he’d had. She had lived a long, good life, but the loss of her still stung.
After a moment, Claudine pressed her lips and gave a nod of acceptance.
“I guess I’m wondering what I’ll do. We’ve spoken about children, but I’ve always assumed I would work in some capacity even after I had a family. Both of my mothers did. I can’t imagine being idle.”
“What were you planning to do after the pageant?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I’ve never known, to be honest. I think that’s why I kept entering them, so I wouldn’t have to make that decision. I do well enough in science and sports and art, but I’m not particularly gifted with any of them. I enjoy learning new things, but I lose interest very quickly. My looks have always felt like my one asset that was extraordinary. That will fade with age, so I’m exploiting it while I can,” she said ruefully.
“You think your looks will fade? I highly doubt it. Nor do I think that’s why you win pageants.”
