His mother took Anna’s hands as if they were friends. “My son is asking you to marry him though he’s being extremely rude.”
And there it was. The same as always. His parents still made his choices and expected him to do as told.
No discussion allowed.
And yet, he hadn’t protested at all. Asking Anna had never been his idea. He wouldn’t have broken the class structure, but he pressed his lips when Anna’s cheeks pinkened. “Mother,” he said. “Stop.”
Anna’s lips hadn’t quite closed, but she turned toward him, fixed that infernal bun to keep it straight and asked him, “Your Highness?”
This was a shot in the dark that showed his parents’ desperation to get him married. She probably had a fiancé or a life outside the palace once she left him every day at five o’clock. At his mother’s glare, he went down on one knee, took Anna’s hand, and kissed the back of it. In the most serious tone he could muster he asked, “Will you marry me, Anna Camila?”
She clutched his hand and her entire face and neck turned bright red. Surely she was about to say no and explain a bit of her personal life.
Then she swallowed and glanced at his hand holding hers. He held his breath as he waited for her refusal, but then she tugged his arm to stand and said, “Yes. I know you have to marry soon and I’m honored, though I should discuss this with my grandmother and ask for her blessing.”
His mother clasped her hands together and acted like this last-minute union was now a royal decree. “Excellent. We’ll plan the wedding for tomorrow and send you both on an extended honeymoon to get to know each other.”
Know each other? True. Other than her dependability and timeliness where she was always where he needed her to be, he didn’t know much about Anna. He released her hand, walking to the open door where he waited by it. “I’d like to speak to Anna, alone.”
His mother wrapped her arm in the crook of his father’s and said, “I’ll begin the wedding preparations for tomorrow. Anna, don’t leave this castle without my tailor taking your measurements.”
Anna bowed as was the custom. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
His parents left in a wake of gold and blue and silence clung in the air. His office had a window that overlooked a vast green lawn and clusters of trees. A branch scraped the glass, breaking the tension.
Anna turned to the printer, gathered and stapled some papers, then handed them to him. “I finished the report on the environmental impact of deforestation of the mountains. The forestry department recommends replanting trees, Sire, before the next ski season.”
Seriously? Reports. She’d just agreed to marry him, so as of tomorrow, she’d never touch one more industry paper for him. He stood taller and noticed that the swell of her breasts in her white button-down was larger than he’d have guessed. Her shirt was big—to disguise her figure? He sat on the edge of his mahogany desk, centered in the room, to give her space. “Anna, I don’t want to talk about trees right now.”
She took a few steps closer to him and hugged the papers to her chest, keeping her gaze no higher than his chin as she disagreed. “The report sounded important.”
If she thought it was urgent, then she was probably right. He held out his hand for the report she wanted to discuss and flexed his fingers. She gave him the papers and he signed the bottom to approve the proposal. “It seems we’ll plant trees in the future queen’s honor then.”
“What do you mean?”
Business would never come between them again. He took her hand. First off, he noticed the spark again, and second, how soft her hands actually were as he tugged her closer and placed her palm on his heart, over the silk fabric of his shirt. “Anna, you just agreed to be my wife. That’s more important than trees.”
Her fingers clutched the row of buttons but then she pulled away, her face bright red. She glanced down and still acted like his secretary. “I see. Is there anything else you need from me?”
He motioned toward the cleared space on the desk. “Anna, please sit beside me.”
She squared her shoulders instead of telling him no and hopped up on the wooden desk, but lost one of her black flats. Her toes, in black hose, wiggled as she settled next to him. “Is here good?”
Until ten minutes ago, he hadn’t thought of Anna as someone he’d be with, which probably made him a snob. He’d noticed her curves, but never once spent any time imagining the color of her nipples underneath her bra. Now the question hung in his brain as he stared at her shoe on the hardwood floor and asked, “Why did you say yes?”
Anna too looked down and then she tucked her foot behind her calf as she struggled for words. Finally she said, “Because… being a queen would be a dream.”
Was there to be total truth between them? Beauty and trust were a rare combination. He traced the edge of his desk with the heel of his palm. “Even though you know about Francesca?”
She let out a deep breath and met his gaze without blinking. “You don’t love her, Sire.”
Anna sounded so sure. So had his parents. They were right, but he hadn’t claimed otherwise. “How do you know that?”
Her light brown brow rose as if he’d said something silly. “Because you wouldn’t have paid her to stay away.”
Ouch. And she was right. Anna had ensured that Francesca deposited the check she’d filled out on his behalf. His shoulders relaxed as he nodded. “Anna, maybe you and my parents are right about Francesca and me, but agreeing to marry me is a bit of leap. I expected you to laugh in my face and tell me you had a boyfriend.”
She glanced at his shoulder now as she almost whispered, “I’ve never laughed at you, Sire, and I have no boyfriend.”
