Page 102 of American Royalty

He arched a brow.

She laughed. “Bothering you. Why is she constantly bothering you?”

He sighed. “The monarchy has a serious PR problem and there’s been talk of abolishment.”

She gasped. “Is that possible?”

“Some countries have done it. It could happen here, but it would take an unprecedented act by Parliament or a public referendum. However, the fact that she’s worried is troublesome.”

“Is that what’s really behind this celebration?”

“Partly. Her love for my grandfather and wanting to celebrate his life is genuine. But the positive exposure it’ll bring to the family is key.”

“You know I get needing some positive press.” She laughed. “What I don’t understand is why she drafted you to be the face of it. And why you agreed.”

He sighed, suddenly not wanting to discuss this. “How about we both grab show—”

“No, don’t shut me out. Your mother said you never wanted to be in the spotlight. Why now?”

He gripped her hips and squeezed. “My grandfather gave his life to his causes. To see them in the hands of a drunken philanderer doesn’t sit well with me.”

Dani wasn’t fooled. “Try again.”

He huffed out a laugh. “This isn’t the easiest family to grow up in.”

“Yeah, I believe we’ve established that.”

“What’s ironic is to avoid a scandal the queen is using the person who’s the product of one.” At her questioning look he elaborated. “My father, Prince Richard, was eighteen when he got my mother pregnant. She was seventeen and from a well-regarded aristocraticfamily. As you can imagine, those things aren’t done. My grandmother forced them to wed. To—”

“—avoid the scandal,” Dani completed his sentence. “This is like a soap opera.”

“It’s much worse. Fiction can’t compare to our actual history. No one would believe it.”

“You were saying...”

Right. “My father was the more gregarious sort. Outgoing, charming, athletic. He had certain ideas about what a prince should be and how a prince should act, and they weren’t matched by a slight, studious son who was more comfortable with books than blokes.”

She arched a brow and leaned away, eyeing him. “There’s nothing slight about you.”

“Now,” he said, the back of his neck heating. “But I was what you’d call a late bloomer. My first year of uni, the year after my father died, I grew six inches and put on a little weight.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Why you don’t act like most men who look like you do and have what you have.”

“Thanks, I think.”

She flattened her palms against his cheeks and kissed him lightly on the lips. “It’s a compliment.”

He touched his forehead to hers before continuing. “My mother did her best to shield me, but my father was a man of extreme passions and appetites. My existence had cost him his youth and I was a disappointment. But my grandfather was kind and compassionate. He was the prince consort and could be charming and outgoing, but he was also an academic.

“After Father died, I knew what would happen. I’d have to abandon my interests and assume his duties. And I was furious. I’d have to give up what I loved and be forced into a role I didn’t want, because he couldn’t exert a modicum of self-control.”

“But that didn’t happen.”

“No, because Mother and Grandfather stood up for me. They went to the queen and pleaded my case and she listened. Because of that, I never had as much exposure as my aunts and uncle and my younger cousins. Thus making me the ideal fresh face to sacrifice to the wolves in service to the throne now.”