Page 43

Something pelvis-heating glimmered in his eyes. Something she furiously fought as thick silence settled on them. Luckily, a valet stepped forward to pour her a much-needed glass of red wine, and the moment was broken.
Still, she took that fighting spirit into the remainder of the proceedings, firmly refusing extraneous requests that pulled her time away from Max.
Unfortunately, it won her a few disapproving murmurs—the loudest of which came from Azar’s mother. And Eden hid a grimace when, a week before the coronation, they were interrupted at dinner.
‘Your Highness…?’
Azar made a low, disapproving sound in his throat, but set down the spoon he was using to feed Max his mac and cheese and glared at the hovering Gaspar. ‘What is it?’
‘Your mother wishes a meeting. Since you had a free half an hour in your schedule after dinner, I thought I’d arrange it?’
Eden stiffened, and immediately brought Azar’s attention to her. ‘I’m guessing she wants to tell you you’re making a big mistake.’
‘Most definitely,’ he concurred sardonically, making something shrivel inside her—until he added, ‘Which makes it a good thing that who I marry isn’t up to her,sí?’
The jolt of relief came from nowhere and floored her, weakening her further. ‘So…you still want to go ahead?’ she murmured, aware that her stomach was clenching in anticipation of his answer.
God, surely she hadn’t been terrified there for a minute that he’d change his mind?
‘That depends,’ he said. His fingers trailed down her temple and cheek to her jaw, then lower to the pulse racing at her throat. ‘Does the thought of marriage to me still make you ill?’ he asked tightly.
That quiet rumbling storm had returned, along with the eerie sense that his causal query held visceral importance.
It never did, she wanted to blurt.
But she managed to cling to her cool.
Remember why you’re doing this, a voice counselled.Max. Always Max.
‘No.’
‘Bueno.Then we are in accord.’
His movements were deliberately precise when he passed his hand over the back of hers, pausing on the breathtakingly gorgeous diamond ring he’d presented her with the morning they’d announced their engagement to the world, two weeks ago.
The belle round micropavé diamond mounted on a pale gold setting wasn’t as flashy as the royal diamonds she’d seen during her tour of the royal palace’s throne and crown rooms, thank goodness. And learning it had belonged to his grandmother, seeing the sombre, nostalgic look in his eyes, had prompted her to give in to a rare bout of inquisitiveness. She’d asked Silvia, who had divulged that he’d been close to his grandmother and had been distraught when she’d died suddenly eight years ago.
Eden hadn’t asked why the jewellery hadn’t been passed on to Azar’s mother. The tiny bubble of joyous warmth at the fact that Azar could have kept the treasured heirloom but instead had bestowed it upon her—despite the circumstances of their coming together—was something she locked away in a secret vault for herself.
‘See you later,’ he said now.
And so the royal circus continued.
Sabeen returned, her retinue doubled and her smile even more stunning as they met for the first of many dress fittings.
It was only when the statuesque beauty engulfed her in a warm hug, then pulled back to peer earnestly into her face, that Eden realised how much she’d missed a friendly face and ear. Mrs Tolson had been that for her.
‘I hear it’s been crazier than a mad hatters’ convention over here,’ said Sabeen. ‘Even Teo is stressed, and he’s three thousand miles away.’
Her mention of her boss held a distinct edge, making Eden start.
‘Is everything okay between with you?’ she asked.
Sabeen’s lips pursed. ‘You mean besides having thePlayboy Princeas my boss? Having women drop their metaphorical and actual knickers whenever he walks into the room, and him not seeing anything wrong with that?’
At Eden’s open-mouthed surprise, she grimaced. ‘Sorry, that sounds unprofessional. It’s fine. I’m fine. How are you?’
Such a simple question. And yet Eden fought back prickles of tears and shrugged. ‘I’m pushing through.’