Page 15 of Awakened On Her Royal Wedding Night
That well of sensuality within her was a delightful discovery that teased him to hurry with his machinations against his brother, but now that she had agreed to move against Francois, Felipe wouldn’t rush her on any level. Each domino would be placed with precision so they would topple in succession, at exactly the right time. Once it was done, he would have all the time in the world for her.Them.
“What—?” She halted as he drew her into a bedroom. She yanked her hand free of his and glared at him with betrayal.
“I brought you here to sleep.” He waved at the wide, canopied bed with the royal crest on its silk coverlet.
She continued to look skeptical.
“When you wake, explore the castle, but stay inside. In fact, I’d like you to visit the infirmary to have your injuries looked at. If you want fresh clothes, the maids will bring you something from my closet.”
“Why don’t I wear something of theirs?” she asked with a confused frown.
“None are tall enough. And you are not part of my housekeeping staff, Claudine. On the contrary, you are extremely valuable to me. I want my staff to know that.” He peeled down the blankets on the bed.
She stood unmoving, a mutinous pout on her lips.
Her eyes were so bruised with tiredness he wanted to pick her up and put her in the bed himself, but he had to reinforce this tentative trust between them. What he hadn’t expected was that he would have to trust her to look after herself and go to sleep.
His concern for her was a new color for him. As a future ruler, he was invested in the well-being of his subjects, but in a very broad way. On a micro level, he’d always been forced to look after his own interests because no one else had. His inner circle was trustworthy enough that he valued them and would attempt to help any who suffered a health crisis or other tragedy, but they were all replaceable. He didn’tworryabout them.
He was worried about her, though. Mostly because he had a pressing engagement and had to leave her here. That wasn’t sitting well with him at all, but it couldn’t be helped.
“I’ll see you later.” He made himself leave and close the door behind himself. “Help her find the infirmary when she rises,” he told the guard who had taken a position at the door. “Allow her to go anywhere she likes within the castle walls.”
“Yes, sir.” He managed to hide the bulk of his surprise, but Felipe understood they were all baffled as to why he was showing so much deference to one of his brother’s contestants.
“Your Highness.” His private secretary, Vinicio, rose from a nearby chair, ever-present tablet clasped in his hand. “Your meeting with the King is still on schedule?”
“Yes.” Felipe’s father had messaged last night. Felipe hated to leave Claudine alone for even an hour, but it would allow him to learn very quickly if she intended to betray him. Also, canceling a meeting with the King would be highly suspicious. Rather than tip his cards, he would continue as if nothing untoward had happened here. “We’ll take the helicopter.”
There was a boat moored on the lee side of the island, but it sat in a lift next to the wharf to protect it from the constant battering of shifting seas. He often used it on fine days like today, but he was running late.
On his way out, he told his head of security, “I’ll be at the palace for an hour. If anything happens to our guest while I’m gone, you are the first one I’ll kill.” He said it lightly, but he wasn’t joking, not really.
The man swallowed. “For anything to happen, I would have to be dead.”
Felipe nodded his satisfaction with that answer.
“Send two guards with me. The rest can stay here.” He didn’t expect trouble, but better safe than sorry.
Fifteen minutes later, he was descending to the palace grounds. Francois’s red cabriolet was zipping through the palace gates at the same time. How tiresome. He had hoped this was crown business.
Both Felipe and Francois had apartments here in the royal palace, but the day Felipe had broken Francois’s nose was the day Felipe had moved to Sentinella. It was less convenient than living on the main island, but Sentinella did what it was designed to do and held the world—and his brother—at bay.
Francois stayed in his beach villa when he was in Nazarine, but mostly traveled the globe from film festivals to raves to solar eclipse parties, all under his portfolio of “economic development.”
They arrived in the upper gallery at the same time from different directions. Felipe acknowledged his twin with a curt nod. Francois curled his lip at him, but said nothing.
Their father’s private secretary greeted them and showed them to their parents’ parlor.
Family business, then. Otherwise, the King would meet with them in his office.
They entered what might pass for a living room in other people’s homes. The furniture made an effort toward comfort over ostentatious style, but there were still plenty of relics that provided as much forgiveness as a church pew.
Queen Paloma wore one of her exquisitely tailored skirt suits, but only minimal jewelry and no hat. She sat on the edge of a sofa cushion, expression somber. She looked up as Felipe came through, nodded politely, then brightened when Francois came in behind him.
“Padre,” Felipe acknowledged King Enzo even though his father didn’t turn from his contemplation out the window.
“Mamma.” Felipe kissed the cheeks his mother offered.
