The Montoros Affair: The Princess and the Player / Maid for a Magnate / A Royal Temptation

Great, she thought sourly. Bella had come to the party with the genuine intent of seeing where things might go with Will, because she said she would. Because she’d bought into the hoopla of being a princess, which came with responsibilities she’d never asked for nor wanted any part of.

But she’d done it, only to be hit over the head with the brutal truth yet again. The man her father wanted her to marry had less than zero interest in her as a person. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn Will was perfectly okay with a hard-core marriage of convenience, complete with separate bedrooms and a paramour on the side.

Sounded an awful lot like her parents’ marriage, and that she wanted no part of.

She shuddered, despondent all at once. Was it asking too much for someone to care what she would actually have to sacrifice with this mess her father had created?

The night was breathtaking, studded with stars and a crescent moon. Still, half the stone terrace lay in shadow, which went perfectly with her mood. Leaning on the railing, she glanced down into the crash of ocean against the cliff below.

“Thinking of jumping?”

The male voice emanating from behind her skittered down her spine, washing her in a myriad of emotions as her heart rolled and her pulse quickened. But she didn’t turn to face him because she was afraid if she actually glimpsed James for even a fraction of a second, all of her steely resolve to work things out with his brother would melt like gelato in the sun. And the leftover hot sticky mess would be difficult to clean up indeed.

“Would you stop me?” she murmured.

“No. I’d hold your hand all the way down, though.”

Her eyelids fluttered closed. How had he managed to make that sound so daringly romantic?

The atmosphere shifted as he moved closer. She could feel him behind her, hear the intake of his breath. A sense of anticipation grew in the silence, peppering her skin with goose pimples and awareness.

Before it grew too intense, she blurted out, “I called Will.”

James wasn’t for her. She needed to keep reminding herself that.

“I gathered that.” He sounded amused and reckless simultaneously. “I plan to personally drive him to the eye doctor tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is he having problems with his eyes?”

“Obviously. Only a blind man would let you out of his sight, especially if he knew you planned to be alone on a moonlit terrace. Any plonker could be out here, waiting to ravish you.”

She’d been so wrong. Other than a similar accent, James’s voice was nothing like Will’s. Will had yet to lose the ice while James breathed pure fire when he spoke.

“Good thing his moral, upstanding brother is the only one out here. He wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me.”

Maybe James needed a reminder that Bella and Will were supposed to get married, too. After all James had been the one to cool things off between the two of them, which had absolutely been the right thing to do.

“Yeah? While Will’s having his eyes examined, maybe I’ll get my IQ checked, then,” James said silkily.

“Feeling a little brainless this evening?”

“I definitely feel like my brain has turned to mush. I think it’s that dress. Your bare back framed by that little bit of fabric...it makes me imagine all sorts of things that probably aren’t very smart.” The frank appreciation in his voice floated through the still night, wrapping around her deliciously. “Let me see the front.”

“No.” Feeling exposed all at once, she crossed her arms. “I didn’t wear this dress for you.”

“Shame. I’m the only one here who fully appreciates what’s underneath it.”

In a flash, her core heated with the memory of being in James’s arms on the beach, his hard body flush with hers.

“You shouldn’t speak to me like that,” she said primly, and nearly gasped as he drew achingly close to her back. She could sense his heat and it called to her.

“Because you don’t like it?” he murmured, his mouth not two inches from her ear in a deliberate tease that shot sensation down the back of her throat.

Her breath caught and she gripped the railing lest her weak knees give out. “Because I do.”

He laughed and it spiked through her with fingers of warmth.

“That’s right,” he said smoothly, as if recalling something critically important. “You’re weak and liable to give in to temptation. Everything I’ve always wanted in a woman.”

“That’s so funny. I’d swear you brushed me off at our last meeting,” she couldn’t help but reply. It still stung, despite all the reasons why she suspected he’d done so.

“I did,” he admitted in an unprecedented moment of honesty. Most men she’d ever met would have tried to pass it off, as if she’d been mistaken. “You know why.”

“Because you’re not interested.”

The colorful curse he muttered made her smile for some reason. “You need your IQ checked if you believe that.”

“Because my father scared you off?”

“Not even close.”

“Because I’m supposed to be with Will,” she said definitively and wished it hadn’t come out sounding so bitter.

“Yes.” James paused as if to let that sink in. “Trust me. It was not easy. But he’s my brother.”

“So you’re okay with it if I marry Will?”

She imagined Christmas. That would be fun, to sit next to her boring husband who was screwing another woman on the side while the man she’d been dreaming about sat across the room. As Mr. Rowling carved the turkey, she could bask in the warm knowledge that she’d furthered a bunch of male ambition with her sacrifice to the royal cause.

“Is that what you want?” he asked quietly, his voice floating out on the still night air.

The question startled her. She had a choice. Of course she did. And now she needed to make it, once and for all.

The night seemed to hold its breath as it waited for her to speak. This was it, the moment of truth. She could end this dangerous attraction to the wrong brother forever by simply saying yes. James would walk away.

Something shifted inside, warring with all the sermons on responsibility and family obligations. And she couldn’t stand it any longer.

She didn’t want Will.

Whirling, she faced James, greedily drinking him, cataloguing the subtle differences in his features. He and Will weren’t identical, not to her. The variances were in the way James looked at her, the way her body reacted. The heat in this man’s gaze couldn’t be mistaken. He was all James and 100 percent the object of her desire.

She let her gaze travel over his gorgeous body, clad in a tuxedo that fit like an extension of his skin, fluid and beautiful. And she wanted nothing more than to see the secrets it hid so carefully beneath the fabric.

He raked her with a once-over in kind that quickened her core with delicious tightness. That was how a man should look at you in such a dress. As if he’d been presented with every last fantasy in one package.

“The back was good,” he rasped, his voice clogged with undisguised desire. “But the front...”

Delighted that she’d complied with Isabella’s fortuitous request to wear red, she smiled. “I do like a man at a loss for words.”

Moonlight played over his features and glinted off the obscenely expensive watch on his wrist as he swept up her hand and drew her closer. So close, she could almost hear his heart beating.

“Actions speak louder and all that.” His arm slid around her waist, pulling her to within a hairsbreadth of his body and she ached for him to close the distance. “Plus, I didn’t want to miss your answer.”

“Answer to what?”

He lowered his head to murmur in her ear, “What it is that you want.”

* * *

If she wanted Will, Bella had about two seconds to say so, or James would be presenting the woman in his arms with some hot and heavy temptation. He preferred to get on the same page before that happened because he had a bad feeling he might be the weak one on this terrace.

With so much forbidden fruit decked out in a mouthwatering dress that screamed sin and sex, he’d rather not put his ability to resist Bella to the test. But he would resist if she said no, regardless of whether he’d been baiting her in hopes of getting her to break first. Because then he’d be in the clear if she came on to him, right?

The sharp intake of her breath and a sensuous lift of her lips gave him all the nonverbal communication he needed. Then she put the icing on it with a succinct, “Will who?”

The gap between their bodies slowly vanished until their torsos brushed, but he couldn’t have said if he closed it or she did. This was not what he’d planned when Bella had inadvertently joined him on the terrace, but it was certainly what he’d fantasized might happen if she’d given him the slightest encouragement.

With her lithe little body teasing his, her curves scarcely contained by that outrageous dress, he could hardly get his mind in gear long enough to form complete sentences. “You could have just said that from the outset.”

“You could have said call me instead of Will on the boardwalk.”

Not if he’d hoped to sleep at night he couldn’t have. Of course, he’d done little of that anyway, tossing and turning as he imagined this gorgeous, vibrant woman with his brother.

He nodded in concession, hardly breathing for fear of alerting her to how very turned on he was. “It was my one noble gesture for the decade. Don’t expect another one.”

She laughed and he felt it vibrate against his rock-hard lower half, which did not improve matters down below. Dangerous and forbidden did it for him in the worst way and when both came in a package like Bella, he might as well surrender to the moment right now. They were both aware of where this was headed, weren’t they?

“You know, you spend a lot of time blabbing about how wicked you are, but I’ve yet to see evidence of it.” Her brow arched saucily, turning silvery in the moonlight. “What happened to my man of action?”

“You wanna play?” he growled and slid his hand to the small of her back, pushing her deep into the crevices of his body. “Here’s round one of How Bad Can James Be?”

Tipping up her head, he captured her smart mouth with his lips, molding them shut while tasting her simultaneously. What started as a shut-up kiss instantly transformed, becoming slow and sensuous and exploratory as he delved into her sweetness. She met him stroke for stroke, angle for angle, silently begging him to take her deeper.

He finally had Bella in his arms. Exactly as he’d ached to have her since releasing her from their first embrace.

Still in the throes of an amazing kiss he never wanted to end, he pinned her against the stone railing, wedging their bodies tight and leaving his hands free to roam where they pleased.

And that creamy expanse of flesh from neck to waist had been calling his name for an eternity. Almost groaning with the pleasure of her mouth under his, he slid a palm north to let his fingertips familiarize themselves with her bare back. Heated, smooth flesh greeted his touch. Greedily, he caressed it all and she moaned throatily, flattening her back against his palm, pleading for more.

He gave it to her.

Nearly mindless with the scent of Bella filling his head, he held her closer in his arms, sliding a knee between her legs to rub at her sweet spot. Heavenly. He wanted to touch every part of her, to taste what he’d touched. To take them both to nirvana again and again as the blistering, forbidden attraction between them was allowed free reign once and for all.

Suddenly, she tore her mouth free and moved out of reach, breathing heavily. “That was...um—”

“Yeah.” Earthshaking. Unprecedented. Hotter than Brazil in the summer. “Come back so I can do it again.”

He reached for her and for a second, he thought she was going to do it. Her body swayed toward him and his mouth tingled in anticipation of locking on to those lips of hers again.

But then she shook her head, backing up another step. “I can’t be with you like this. It’s not fair to Will. We have to straighten everything out first.”

Bloody hell. Will hadn’t crossed his mind once while James kissed his brother’s date. Any of dear Father’s business cronies could have come upon them on the terrace and there were few people in Alma who confused the twins. Everyone knew James had inherited Grandfather Rowling’s priceless antique watch—much to Patrick’s chagrin. It was the first thing people looked for when in need of a handy way to identify the brothers.

“Yes, of course you’re right.” Though his body ached to yank her back into his arms, he gave her a pained smile instead. “This isn’t over.”

“Oh, no.” She shot him an indecipherable look. “Not by half. The next time you and I are together, I will be naked and screaming your name.”

His eyelids flew shut and he groaned. “Why can’t that happen tonight?”

“Because as far as the rest of the world is concerned, Will is the Rowling I’m supposed to be with. I’ve had too many scandals mess up my life to knowingly create a preventable one. That’s why it must be perfectly clear to everyone that Will and I are not getting married before you and I get naked.”

Grimly, he nodded, the photo of the two of them on the front page fresh in his mind. They should probably address that, too, at some point, but he’d topped out on issues he could reasonably deal with.

“You should go. And go fast before I change my mind.” Or lose it. “I’m fresh out of nobility and the capacity to resist you.”

She whirled and fled. He watched her beautiful back as she disappeared inside the house, and then went in search of a bottle of Jameson to get him through what promised to be a long night indeed.

Five

James cornered Will in his Rowling Energy office at 9:05 a.m. This was the earliest James could recall being awake, dressed and out of the house in quite some time. But this cat-and-mouse game had grown tiresome, and the man who shared his last name, his blood and once upon a time, had even shared a womb, had the power to end it.

“Will.”

James didn’t cross the threshold out of respect for the fact that he was on his brother’s turf. Instead, he waited for him to glance up from his report. Will’s expression remained composed, though James caught a flash of surprise in the depths of his gaze, which the Master of Calm quickly banked.

“Yes?”

And now they’d officially exchanged two words this week. Actually, James couldn’t remember the last time they had talked. They’d never been close. Hell, they were rarely on the same continent, but that wasn’t really the reason. The divide had started the night their mum died and grown exponentially over the years.

“We have to talk. Can I come in?”

“Since you’re here already, I suppose.” Will’s long-suffering sigh said he deserved a medal for seeing James on such short notice.

James bit back the sarcasm strictly because he was the one with the mission, though his brother’s condescension pricked at his temper. The brothers would never see eye to eye, though why James cared was beyond him.

They’d taken different paths in dealing with the single most defining year of their lives, Will choosing to compensate for the loss of everything familiar by becoming whatever their father said, as long as the remaining parent paid attention to him.

James compensated for his mother’s death by lashing out at his father, refusing to forgive the ultimate crime—though James could never run far enough or get into enough trouble to drown out the sound of his own conscience. While he’d never forgive his father for driving his mum out into the rainy night, back in the deepest reaches of his soul, he blamed himself more.

Because he’d heard them arguing and hadn’t done anything. What if he’d run out of his hiding place to grab on to his mum and beg her not to leave? She wouldn’t have. He knew she wouldn’t have. But she’d probably assumed both her boys were asleep. One of them had been.

James took a deep, not at all calming breath as he settled into one of the wingback chairs flanking Will’s desk. “It’s about Bella.”

“Ms. Montoro? What about her?”

James rolled his eyes. “Well, I was going to ask how serious you are about her, but that pretty much told me.”

“How serious I...” Will’s gaze narrowed. “You’ve got the hots for her.”

That didn’t begin to describe what had happened on the terrace last night. Or every moment since the princess had blinked up at him with those big eyes after upending his world. “If you’re determined to see this arranged marriage through, I won’t stand in your way.”

Steepling his hands, Will sat back in his chair, contemplating James carefully. “Really? That’s a first.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When was the last time you considered anyone above yourself? Especially when a woman is involved.”

James was halfway out of his seat before he checked himself. Fisting his hand in his lap as he sat back down, he forced a smile. “I won’t apologize for looking out for myself. No one else does. But I will concede the point. This woman is different.”

He nearly choked on the words he hadn’t consciously planned to say. But it was true. Bella wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met.

Smirking, Will nodded once. “Because she’s earmarked for me.”

Is that what he thought this was about? That James had come to Will in a fit of jealousy?

“Earmarked? Is that how you talk about her? Bella’s a person, not a pile of money.”

The nerve. Will had spent too much time in budget meetings if he equated a flesh-and-blood woman with reserve funds.

“Yes. But surely you realize we’re talking about an arranged marriage. It’s a form of currency, dating back to the dawn of time. No one is under a different impression.”

James had a sick sort of realization that what Will described was probably quite right. Two fathers had struck a deal, bargaining away their children’s future with no thought to what could or should go into a marriage decision. Namely, the desires of the bride and groom in question.

If he didn’t miss his guess, Will accepted that. Embraced it. Thought it was a brilliant idea.

If James had known this was the case, he’d have taken Bella straight to his room last night and skipped the formality of giving his brother a heads-up that things had changed. “Bella has a different impression. She’s not interested in being bought or sold.”

Will eyed him thoughtfully. “Why hasn’t she come to me herself?”

“Because this is between you and me, brother. She didn’t want to get into the middle of it.” Which he fully appreciated, whether Will did or not. James had to look at himself in the mirror for the rest of his life and he’d prefer not to see his own guilty conscience staring back at him. “And she won’t. Neither will I allow her to. If you say you’re planning to pursue this ridiculous idea of aligning Rowling Energy to the Montoros through marriage, so be it. Just be sure you treat her like a princess.”

Maybe James wasn’t done being noble after all. He’d fully expected to walk in here and demand that Will release Bella from their fathers’ agreement. But somehow he’d wound up caring more about Bella and how she was being marginalized than whether he’d cleared the way to sleep with her.

“I see.” Comprehension dawned in Will’s gaze. “You’re the reason she left the party so quickly last night. Last I knew, she’d gone out on the terrace for some air, and the next, she’d begged off with a headache.”

“I’m sorry,” James said earnestly. “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. But Bella deserves better than to be thought of as currency. She’s funny and incredible and—”

He broke off before he said something he couldn’t take back, like she’s the hottest kisser I’ve ever met. Somehow, he didn’t think that would go over well.

“You’ve got it bad.” Will didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Never would have thought I’d see the day. She’s really got you wrapped, doesn’t she?”

As if Bella called the shots or something? James tried to do the right thing one time and all he got was grief.

“She’s important,” James growled. “That’s all.”

Will grinned mischievously, looking more like Mum than he usually did. “Ha. I wouldn’t be surprised if you proposed to her before her brother’s coronation.”

“Propose? You mean ask her to marry me?” Ice slid down James’s spine and he threw up a hand to stave off the rest of Will’s outpouring of madness. “That’s not what’s going on here. We’re just... I’m not... It’s that I didn’t want to poach on your territory. It’s not sporting.”

“Gabriella. Paulinha. Abril.” Ticking them off on his fingers, Will cocked his head. “I think there was another one, but her name escapes me.”

Revisionist history of the worst kind. “If I recall, Abril went home with you. Despite the fact that I saw her first.”

“But that’s my point. We’ve competed over women in the past. But you have never come to me first.” Will’s phone rang, but he ignored the shrill buzz. “We’ve always subscribed to the may-the-best-man-win philosophy. So obviously Bella is the one.”

Yeah, the one James wanted in his bed. That was it. Once they burned off the blinding attraction, they’d part amicably. “No way. You’re reading into this.”

An even worse thought occurred to him then. Did Bella think there was more going on here? Like maybe James wanted to take Will’s place in the diabolical bridal bargain their fathers had struck? Surely not. There’d been plenty of flirting, and lots of use of the word naked. But no one had said anything about being serious.

Will shook his head, a smile still tugging at his lips. “I don’t think so. Put your money where your mouth is.”

“A bet? Seriously?” All the long hours in the service of Patrick Rowling’s ego had obviously pickled his brother’s brain.

“As a heart attack.” Nodding at James’s wrist, he pursed his lips for a beat. “Grandfather’s watch. That’s how bad I think you’ve got it. If you propose to Bella before Gabriel Montoro takes the throne, you give it to me, free and clear.”

James laughed. “You are so on.”

What a stupid thing to ask for. Will knew how much James loved his grandfather’s watch. It was one of the few mementos from England that James had left, and Grandfather had given it to him on his eighteenth birthday. Losing it was not happening. Proposing to Bella was not happening, before the coronation or after.

Sucker’s bet. James rubbed his hands together gleefully. “If I don’t propose, then what? Make this worth my while.”

“I’ll come up with something.”

James and Will shook on it.

“So this means the arranged marriage is totally off, right?” No point in going through all of this just to find out Will was toying with him.

“Totally off.”

A glint in his brother’s eye caught his crossways. “You were never interested in her.”

“Never,” Will confirmed solemnly. “Bella’s got all the right parts and everything, and she would have opened up some interesting possibilities for Rowling. But she’s not my type. I’m fine with cancelling the whole agreement.”

Not his type. That was insane. How could Bella not be every red-blooded man’s type? “You’ll talk to Father?”

“Sure. It’s better coming from me anyway. Now get out so I can run this company.”

James got out. He had a naked princess in his future after all.

* * *

Bella’s eyes started to ache after thirty minutes of trying to read the tiny map print.

“I give up,” she muttered and switched off the lamp adorning her bedside table.

All of the words were in Spanish anyway. How was she supposed to use this map Alex Ramon’s assistant had given her to find the farmhouse Tía Isabella had mentioned?

When Bella had asked Rafael about it, he sent her to speak with Alex Ramon, Alma’s deputy prime minister of commerce. His assistant helped her scour the royal archives until they found one solitary mention of the abandoned farmhouse in a long list of Montoro holdings. But there was little to go on location-wise other than Aldeia Dormer, the name of a tiny village.