A Bride For The Playboy Prince: The perfect royal romance to celebrate Harry and Meghan’s wedding

In the dim light Lisa blinked. She thought about the two of them making an entrance in the kind of fancy restaurant he would no doubt frequent—the handsome Prince and the heavily pregnant woman.

‘But if we’re seen out together,’ she said slowly, ‘that would be making a fairly unequivocal statement, wouldn’t it? A prince would never appear alone in public with a woman in my condition unless he was willing to be compromised. Is that what you want, Luc?’

His eyes glittered as he leaned towards her. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly what I want. I want the world to know that I am the father. You have my child in your belly, Lisa. Do you really think I intend to relinquish my claim on my own flesh and blood?’

The words sounded almost primitive and they were filled with a sense of possession. They reminded Lisa of the full force of his power and the fact that he had grown up with very different values from her. ‘Of course I don’t!’ she said. ‘We can meet with a lawyer and have a legal agreement drawn up. You can see your child any time you like—within reason. Surely you can have no objection to that?’

His eyes were cold and so was his voice. ‘I think you are missing the point, chérie. I intend to marry you.’

‘I’m sorry, Luc.’ She gave a slight shake of her head as she reached for the door handle. ‘I’m afraid that’s just not going to happen.’

But he leaned across the seat and placed his hand over her forearm, and Lisa hated the instant ripple of recognition which whispered over her skin the moment he touched her. Did he feel it, too—was that why he slid his thumb down to her wrist as if to count the beats of the rocketing pulse beneath?

‘Let me see you to your door,’ he said.

The set of his jaw told her that objection would be a waste of time and so she shrugged. ‘Suit yourself. But you’re not coming in.’

Luc made no comment as he accompanied her to her front door as he’d done what now seemed a lifetime ago. But this time there was no warmth and light gilding the summer evening into a golden blur which matched their shared desire. This time there was only the cold bite of a rainy night and a barely restrained sense of hostility. But she was pregnant, he reminded himself. Inside her beat the tiny heart of his own flesh and blood. And that changed everything.

Luc was not a sentimental man and emotion had been schooled out of him from an early age, but now he became aware of something much bigger than himself. He stared at her swollen frame with the realisation that here lay something more precious than all the riches in his entire principality. And he was shaken by just how badly he wanted it.

‘I don’t want to have to fight you to get what I want, Lisa,’ he said softly as they reached her door. ‘But if you force my hand then I’m afraid that’s what’s going to happen. Perhaps I should warn you now that it is better not to defy me.’

Her eyes narrowed like those of a cornered cat. ‘If only you could hear yourself!’ she retorted, unlocking her front door and pushing it open. ‘I can defy you all I like! I’m a free spirit—not your possession or your subject. This is the twenty-first century, Luc, and you can’t make me do something I don’t want to—so why don’t we resume this discussion in the cold light of day when you’re ready to see sense?’

His powerful body grew still and for one hopeful moment Lisa thought he was about to take her advice. But she was wrong. He lifted his hand to rake his fingers back through his rain-spangled hair and she hated the sudden erotic recall which that simple gesture provoked.

‘Your backer is a man called Martin Lawrence,’ he said slowly.

She didn’t ask how he knew. She didn’t show her surprise or foreboding as she raised her eyebrows. ‘And?’

‘And yesterday afternoon he sold all his interest in your business to me.’

It took her a few seconds to process this and once the significance hit her, she shook her head. ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘Martin wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. Not without telling me.’

‘I’m afraid he did.’ A cynical smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘The lure of money is usually enough to eclipse even the most worthy of principles and I offered him a price he couldn’t refuse.’

‘You...bastard,’ she said, walking like a robot into her hallway, too dazed to object when he followed her and snapped on the harsh overhead light. But this time there were no frantic kisses. No barely controlled hunger as they tore at each other’s clothes. There was nothing but a simmering mistrust as Lisa stared into his unyielding blue eyes. ‘So what are you planning to do?’ she questioned. ‘Dramatically cut my funds? Or slowly bleed me dry so that you can force me into closure?’

‘I’m hoping it won’t come to that,’ he said. ‘My acquisition of your business was simply a back-up. An insurance policy, if you like, in case you proved to be stubborn as I anticipated, which is exactly what has happened. But I have no desire to be ruthless unless you make me, Lisa. I won’t interfere with your business if you return to Mardovia with me as my wife.’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t do that, Luc,’ she breathed. ‘You know I can’t.’

‘Why not?’ His gazed bored into her. ‘Is it because I’m the wrong man? Are you holding out for Mr Right? Is that what this is all about?’

She gave a short laugh. ‘Mr Right is a fictional character created by women who still believe in fairy tales. And I don’t.’

‘Well, isn’t that just perfect, because neither do I. Which means that neither of us have any illusions which can be shattered.’

But his declaration gave Lisa little comfort. Her back was aching and her feet felt swollen. She walked into the tiny sitting room and slumped into one of the overstuffed armchairs without even bothering to put the light on. But Luc took control of this, too, following her and snapping on a lamp before drawing the curtains against the darkness outside. She found herself thinking that his servants must usually do this kind of thing for him and wondered what it must be like, to live his privileged life.

‘We don’t have to go through with a sham marriage,’ she said wearily. ‘I told you. We can do this the modern way and share custody. Lots of people do. And given all the wealth at your disposal, it will be easier for us to achieve than for most people.’ From somewhere she conjured up a hopeful smile. ‘I mean, it’s not like we’re going to be worried about whether we can afford to run two households, is it?’

But he didn’t respond to her feeble attempt at humour.

‘You’re missing the point,’ he said. ‘I have a duty to my people and the land I was born to rule. Mardovia’s stability has been threatened in the past and the principality was almost destroyed as a result. It cannot be allowed to happen again and I will not let it. This child is the future of my country—’

‘What? Even if it’s a girl?’

He went very still. ‘Do you know the sex of the baby?’ he questioned.

Lisa thought about lying. Of saying she was going to have a girl in the hope that the macho rules which seemed to define him would make him reconsider his demand that she marry him. But she couldn’t do that. It would be a cheap move to use their baby as a pawn in their battle, and she sensed it wouldn’t make any difference.

She shook her head. ‘No. I told the sonographer I didn’t want to know. I didn’t like the idea of going through a long labour without even the promise of a surprise at the end. A bit like getting your Christmas presents and discovering that nobody had bothered to wrap them.’

He smiled at this and, inexplicably, Lisa felt herself softening. As if nature had programmed her to melt whenever the father of her child dished out some scrap of affection. And she couldn’t afford to melt.

‘Whatever the sex of the baby, there’s no reason why the act of succession cannot be re-examined some time in the future,’ he said and walked across the room towards her, towering over her, his muscular body completely dominating her line of vision. ‘I am doing my very best to be reasonable here and I will do everything in my power to accommodate your desires, Lisa. And before you start glowering at me like that, I wasn’t referring just to physical desires, though I’m more than happy to take those into account.’

Lisa could feel her face growing hot and her breasts beginning to prickle. And the most infuriating thing of all was that right then she wanted him to touch them again. To cup and fondle them and flicker his tongue over them. She wanted him to put his hand between her legs and to ease the aching there. Was it normal for a pregnant woman to feel such a powerful sense of desire?

‘I can’t do that,’ she said in a low voice. ‘My life is here. I can’t leave my little niece, or my sister.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I...help them.’

‘What do you mean, you help them?’

She shrugged. ‘They have no regular income.’

‘Your sister is a single parent?’

‘Sort of. She’s with Jason, only they’re not married and he’s rather work-shy.’

‘Then it’s about time he changed his attitude,’ he said. ‘Your sister and child will receive all the support they require because I will be able to help with that, too. And soon you will have a family of your own to think about.’

‘And my business?’ she demanded, levering herself into a sitting-up position and trying to summon the energy to glare at him. ‘What about that? I’ve worked for years to establish myself and yet now I’m expected to drop everything—as if my work was nothing but some disposable little hobby.’

‘I am willing to compromise on that and I don’t intend to deprive you of your career,’ he said softly. ‘You have people who work for you. Let them run the shop in your absence while you design from the palace.’

And Lisa knew that whatever objection she raised Luc would override her. Because he could. He didn’t care that she was close to her little niece and terrified that everything she’d worked for would simply slip away if she wasn’t there to oversee it. He didn’t care about her—he never had. All he cared about was what he wanted. And he wanted this baby.

‘You don’t understand.’ She raised her hands in a gesture of appeal, but the answering look in his eyes was stony.

‘I understand more than you might think,’ he said. ‘I shall accommodate your wishes as much as possible. I don’t intend to be a cruel husband. But be very clear about one thing, Lisa—that this topic is not open for debate. That if it comes to it, I will drag you screaming and kicking to the altar, because you will be my wife and my child will be born on Mardovian soil.’

There was a pause as she bit her lip before looking up at the grim determination which made his blue eyes look so cold. ‘If...if I agree to this forced marriage, I want some form of compensation.’

‘Compensation?’ he echoed incredulously, as if she was insulting him—which in a way she guessed she was. Unless you counted what she wanted as some old-fashioned kind of dowry.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I want you to buy my sister a house of her own and provide her with a regular income which will free her from the clutches of her sponging partner.’

His mouth twisted. ‘And that is the price for your consent?’

Lisa nodded. ‘That is my price,’ she said heavily.

CHAPTER SIX

LUC LOOKED AROUND the room—a relatively small room but the one where his wedding to Lisa Tiffany Bailey was about to take place. It was decked out with garlands of flowers, their heavy fragrance perfuming the air, and over the marble fireplace was the crimson and gold of the Mardovian flag. Everything around him was as exquisitely presented as you would expect in the embassy of a country which had a reputation for excellence—and the staff had pulled out all the stops for the unexpected wedding of their ruler to his English bride. But when it boiled down to it, it was just a room.

His face tightening with tension, he thought about the many generations of his family who had married in the august surroundings of the famous cathedral in Mardovia’s capital. Grand weddings attended by other royals, by world leaders, politicians and aristocracy. Huge, glittering affairs which had been months in the planning and talked about for years afterwards.

But there would be no such wedding for him.

Because how could he marry in front of his traditionally conservative people with such a visibly pregnant bride in tow? Wouldn’t it flaunt his own questionable behaviour, as well as risking offending Princess Sophie—a woman adored by his subjects? This was to be a small and discreet ceremony, with a woman who did not want to take part in it.

He allowed himself a quick glance at the chairs on which her small family sat. The sister who looked so like her, and her boyfriend Jason, who Lisa clearly didn’t trust. Just as she didn’t trust him. Luc watched the casually dressed man with the slightly too long hair glance around the ornate room, unable to hide his covetous expression as he eyed up the lavish fixtures and fittings. He sensed Lisa was disappointed that the new house and income which had been given to her sister had failed to remove Jason from the equation. It seemed that her sister’s love for him ran deep...

But her dysfunctional family wasn’t the reason he was here today and Luc tensed as the Mardovian national anthem began to play. Slowly, he turned his head to watch as Lisa made her entrance, his heart pounding as she started to walk towards him and he was unprepared—and surprised—by the powerful surge of feeling which ran through him as she approached.

His mouth dried to dust as he stared at his bride, thinking how beautiful she looked, and he felt the inexplicable twist of his heart. More beautiful than he could ever have imagined.

She had left her hair spilling free—a glossy cascade broken only by the addition of white flowers which had been carefully woven into the honeyed locks. To some extent, the glorious spectacle of her curls drew the eye away from her rounded stomach, but her dressmaker’s eye for detail had also played a part in that—for her gown was cleverly designed to minimise the appearance of her pregnancy. Heavy cream satin fell to her knee and the matching shoes showcased shapely legs which, again, distracted attention from her full figure. And, of course, the gleaming tiara of diamonds and pearls worn by all Mardovian brides drew and dazzled the eye. Beside her, with one chubby little hand clinging on tightly, walked the toddling shape of her little niece—her only bridesmaid.

And then Luc looked into Lisa’s face. At the unsmiling lips and shuttered eyes, and a sense of disappointment whispered over him. She certainly wasn’t feigning a joy she clearly didn’t feel! Her expression was more suited to someone about to attend their own execution rather than their wedding.

Yet could he blame her? She had never sought closeness—other than the purely physical variety. This must be the last thing in the world she wanted. His jaw tightened. And what about him? He had never intended for this to happen either. Yet it had happened. Fate had presented him with a very different kind of destiny from the one mapped out for him, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. He stared at her as a powerful sense of certainty washed over him. Except vow to be the best father and husband he could possibly be.

Could he do that?

‘Are you okay?’ he questioned as she reached his side.

Okay? Chewing on her lip, Lisa bent to direct her little niece over to the ornate golden chair to sit beside her mother. No, she was not okay. She felt like a puppet. Like a thing. She was being dragged into matrimony like some medieval bride who had just been bought by her powerful master.

But if she was being forced to go through with this marriage, maybe she ought to do it with at least the appearance of acceptance. Wouldn’t it be better not to feed the prejudices of his staff when she sensed they already resented his commoner bride? So she forced a smile as she stepped up beside Luc’s towering figure.

‘Ecstatic,’ she murmured and met the answering glint in his eyes.

The ceremony passed in a blur and afterwards there was a small reception. But an overexcited Tamsin started running around and ground some wedding cake into an antique rug, and Lisa didn’t like the way Jason seemed to be hovering over a collection of precious golden artefacts sitting on top of a beautiful inlaid table.

It was Luc who smoothly but firmly brought the proceedings to an end—and Lisa had to swallow down the sudden tears which sprang to her eyes as she hugged her little niece goodbye, before clinging tightly to her sister.

‘I’m going to miss you, Britt,’ she said fiercely.

And Brittany’s voice wobbled as she hugged her back. ‘But you’ll be back, won’t you, Lisa? My lovely new house is certainly big enough to accommodate my princess sister,’ she whispered. ‘Or we can come out and stay with you in Mardovia. We’ll still see each other, won’t we?’

Lisa met her sister’s eyes. How did you tell your closest relative you were terrified of being swallowed up by an alien new life which would shut out the old one for good? With a deep breath, she composed herself. You didn’t. You just got on with things and made the best of them, the way she’d done all her life. ‘Of course we will,’ she said.

‘Are you ready, Lisa?’ came Luc’s voice from behind her and she nodded, glad that confetti was banned on the surrounding fancy London streets—because she honestly didn’t think she could smile like some happy hypocrite as she walked through a floating cloud of rose petals.

A car whisked them to the airfield, where they were surrounded by officials. Someone from the Aviation Authority insisted on presenting Lisa with a bouquet, which only added to her feelings of confusion because she wasn’t used to people curtseying to her. It wasn’t until they were high in the sky over France that she found herself alone with Luc at last, and instantly she was subjected to a very different kind of confusion—a sensual tug-of-war which had become apparent the moment the aircraft doors had closed and they were alone together.

He had changed from his Mardovian naval uniform and was wearing a dark suit which hugged his powerful frame, and his olive skin looked golden and glowing. His long legs were spread out in front of him and, distractingly, she couldn’t stop remembering their muscular power and the way he had shuddered with pleasure as she had coiled her fingertips around them. Her mouth dried and she wondered if he knew how uncomfortable she was feeling as his sapphire gaze rested thoughtfully on her.

‘Now, as weddings go...’ he elevated his black brows in a laconic question ‘...was that really so bad?’

She shrugged. ‘That depends what you’re comparing it with. Better than being adrift at sea for three days with no water, I suppose—though probably on a par with being locked up for life and having the key thrown away.’

‘Oh, Lisa.’ The brief glint of amusement which had entered his eyes was suddenly replaced with a distinct sense of purpose. ‘Your independent attitude is something I’ve always enjoyed but this marriage isn’t going to work if you’re going to spend the whole time being obstructive.’

‘And what did you think I was going to do?’ she questioned, her voice low because she was aware that although the officials were out of sight, they were still very much present. ‘Fall ecstatically into your arms the moment you slid the ring on my finger?’

‘Why not? You wouldn’t hear any objection from me and it’s pretty obvious that the attraction between us is as powerful as it ever was—something which was demonstrated on the night our baby was conceived. And now we’re man and wife,’ he said, sliding his hand over her thigh and leaving it to rest there, ‘isn’t that what’s supposed to happen? Isn’t it a pity to let all this frustrated desire go to waste?’

Lisa stared down at the fingers which were outlined against the grey silk jersey of her ‘going away’ dress and thought how right they felt. As if they had every right to be there—ready to creep beneath the hem of her dress. Ready to slip inside her panties, which were already growing damp with excitement. She thought about the pleasure he was capable of giving her. Instant pleasure which could be hers any time she liked.

But something told her that she shouldn’t slip into intimacy with him—no matter how tempting the prospect—because to do so would be to lose sight of his essential ruthlessness. He had brought her here like some kind of possession. An old-fashioned chattel who carried his child. He had married her despite all her protestations, and there hadn’t been a thing she could do about it. She was trapped. The deal had been sealed. She had made her bed and now she must lie in it.

She just didn’t intend sharing it with him.

That was the only thing she was certain of—that she wasn’t going to complicate things by having sex with a man who had blackmailed her to the altar. Her resistance would be the key to her freedom, because a man with Luc’s legendary libido would never endure a sexless marriage. Inevitably, he would be driven into the arms of other women and she would be able to divorce him on grounds of infidelity. She pushed his hand away, telling herself it was better this way. Better never to start something which could only end in heartache. But that didn’t stop her body from missing that brief caress of his fingers, from wishing that she could close her eyes and pretend not to care when they slipped beneath her dress and began to pleasure her...

‘We may be married,’ she said. ‘But it’s going to be in name only.’

‘Do I take that to mean you’re imposing a sex ban?’ he questioned gravely.

She smoothed down the ruffled silk jersey, which still bore the imprint of his hand, and waited until her heart had stopped racing quite so much. ‘A ban would imply that something was ongoing, which is definitely not the case. We had one night together—and not even a whole night because you couldn’t wait to get away from me, could you, Luc? So please don’t try suggesting that I’m withdrawing something which never really got off the ground.’

Luc frowned, unused to having his advances rejected, or for a woman to look at him with such determination in her eyes. His power and status had always worked in his favour—but it was his natural charisma which had always guaranteed him a hundred per cent success rate with the opposite sex. Yet he could sense that this time was different. Because Lisa was different. She always had been. He remembered the silent vow he had taken as she’d walked towards him in all her wedding finery. A vow to be the best husband he could. She was a newly crowned princess and she was pregnant—so shouldn’t he cut her a little slack?

‘I hear what you say,’ he said. ‘But the past is done, Lisa. All we have is the present. And the future, of course.’

‘And I need you to hear this,’ she answered, in a low and fervent voice. ‘Which is that I will perform my role as your princess, at least until after the birth. But I will be your wife in name only. I meant what I said and I will not share a bed with you, Luc. I don’t intend to have sex with you. Be very clear about that.’

‘And is there any particular reason why?’ His eyes mocked her, his gaze lingering with a certain insolence on the swell of her breasts. ‘Because you want me, Lisa. You want me very badly. We both know that.’

There was silence for a moment as Lisa willed her nipples to stop tingling in response to his lazy scrutiny. She swallowed. ‘Because sex can weaken women. It can blind them to the truth, so that they end up making stupid mistakes.’

‘And you have experience of this, do you?’

She shrugged. ‘Indirectly.’

His voice was cool. ‘Are you going to tell me about it? We need something to do if we aren’t going to celebrate our union in the more conventional manner.’

Lisa hesitated. As usual, his words sounded more like an order than a question and her instinct was to keep things bottled up inside her, just as she’d always done. He’d never been interested in this kind of thing in the past, but she guessed things were different now. And maybe Luc needed to know why she meant what she said. To realise that the stuff she’d experienced went bone deep and she wasn’t about to change. She didn’t dare change. She needed to stay exactly as she was—in control. So that nobody could get near to her and nobody could ever hurt her. ‘Oh, it’s a knock-on effect from my scarred childhood,’ she said flippantly.