Page 2 of Fae-King It (Mystical Matchmakers #5)

CHAPTER ONE

Present Day

Ronan Byrne was fucked.

Which also meant he was desperate. That was the only reason he was walking into the doors of Mystical Matchmakers to talk to Dominique Proxa. The one woman he truly didn’t want to speak with. Unfortunately, he had no other choice.

She owed him a debt. And it was time to collect.

He walked inside, his eyes falling on a young woman with dark hair at a desk facing him. She was pretty and obviously had some fae heritage. His heightened eyesight picked up on the purple highlights in her dark hair and the faint glow to her aura. She sparkled with mental magic, meaning an empath or telepath.

He hardened his mental shell, though he doubted he would need it. As he drew closer, he could see that she was at least half-human. Maybe more. She probably wouldn’t be able to sense his emotions anyway. Not here in the human realm.

She stared at him with wide eyes as he approached. After blinking a few times, she spoke, “Good afternoon. How can I help you?”

The woman got to her feet and came around her desk, stopping just at the corner and folding her hands in front of her.

He halted. There was a tension in her body as though he made her uncomfortable. It was something he noticed in humans with fae ancestry. His presence made them feel wary. “I’m here to see Dominique Proxa,” he answered.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked.

Ronan barely refrained from smirking. He hadn’t needed an appointment to see a fae business owner in a long, long time. “No, but she’ll want to see me.”

“Your name?”

“Ronan Byrne.”

She studied him for a long moment, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. He saw it in her expression when she realized who he was.

Still, her response surprised him. “Let me see if she’s available. We may have to schedule an appointment for you later today or this week.”

He stared at her, a bit flummoxed. He hadn’t expected that. Her aura shifted, and he had to smirk. He was not impressing this halfling. At all. He loved it. She might know who he was, but she wasn’t going to kowtow. He had to respect that.

The woman turned and knocked on the door behind her. Chills ran down Ronan’s spine when he heard a low, almost sultry voice call out, “Come in, Veronica.”

Veronica vanished into the office, shutting the door firmly behind her. Ronan stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. He wondered if Dominique Proxa would remember him. Or recognize his name.

He was so involved in his thoughts he didn’t even notice the woman who came to stand next to him until she spoke, “Good afternoon.”

Ronan jumped, twisting in shock to stare at the older woman. “Holy—” He bit back the curse. “Um, good afternoon.”

She smiled at him, her black eyes warm and friendly. “I’m sorry I startled you, but I need to run, and I didn’t want to leave without letting Veronica know.” She gestured to the desk with the items in her hands. “Will you let her know I left these on her desk?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m Zelda,” she said, holding out her hand.

Off balance for the second time in less than five minutes, Ronan shook her hand on autopilot. “Ronan.”

Her answering smile was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. “It’s great to see you, Ronan. Have a lovely afternoon.”

He watched her walk away, confused. She’d said it like she knew him. While she did look vaguely familiar, he didn’t recognize her. What a strange woman , he thought.

Veronica came out of Dominique’s office, glancing over to the glass-walled room to the right.

“The woman left a note and a tablet on your desk. She said she would be in touch soon.”

Her eyes came back to him, and her mouth tightened. “Dominique will see you now.”

He smiled at her, which made her cock her head to one side. She didn’t say anything else, though, just led him to the door and opened it.

Ronan sauntered in behind her as the woman got up from behind the desk and walked around to the front. When her eyes lifted to his, the blue-green color was even more intense and intriguing.

The sight of the woman Dominique Proxa had become was enough to have him stopping in his tracks. Their gazes were locked on each other, and an electric hum buzzed in his blood.

“It’s you,” he said.

He wasn’t sure why he said it. He knew who she was, had expected to see her, but there was no anticipating what the sight of her did to his brain.

Strangely enough, she simultaneously said the same words, “It’s you.”

They stood in silence, watching each other. Waiting.

Finally, Dominique glanced at her assistant, breaking the staring contest. “Could you excuse us, Veronica?”

The other woman regarded them both with obvious curiosity, but she nodded and left the office, closing the door behind her.

By the time the door shut, Dominique appeared perfectly composed. The surprise in her expression erased. “Please have a seat,” she said, gesturing to one of the chairs facing her desk.

He saw the flash of black on her right wrist at the movement and realized that she hadn’t covered her curse mark with a glamour as his parents pushed him to do. The sight of the crescent moon stirred the ire inside him and…something else. Something dark and possessive.

Unaware of the turn his thoughts had taken, she walked around to her seat and settled into it. “What can I help you with?” she asked.

Her cool facade was firmly in place, and Ronan found he hated it as much now as he’d hated it thirty years ago. In fact, she seemed even more aloof and in control than she had back then, which was disconcerting. The private investigator he’d hired to find her had referred to her as an ice queen, and now he could understand why. She was locked up tight, her face a mask of mild civility.

“It’s time for you to repay your debt,” he said, walking over to the desk and parking his ass on the edge of it.

Seemingly unruffled by his words, her eyes dropped to where he sat on the wood before lifting back to his gaze. “I’m afraid I don’t know which debt you’re referring to. Or that I’d incurred one at all.”

“Considering I never would have been cursed by a sorceress at the age of thirteen if not for you, I’d say you definitely owe me.”

Dominique laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the desk in front of her. Her posture was regal and straight, her head held high as she tilted it back to survey him. “Very well. What payment are you hoping to obtain?” she asked.

His gut twisted at her calm, cold words. She seemed completely unbothered by his statement. There was no anger in her gaze. No anger in her tone. She wasn’t even going to argue with him. Her mild acceptance of his statement was completely unexpected.

Off-balance, Ronan moved from the edge of her desk to the chair she’d gestured toward earlier. He slouched into it, folding his hands over his belly. “I need a wife.”

He was amazed at the change that came over her. Warmth flooded her features, and she actually smiled at him. The expression on her face hit him like a punch to the gut. It knocked the breath from his lungs. He’d never seen her smile before.

“You’ve come to the right place. Our success rate for matches is the best?—”

Ronan held up a hand. “I’m not interested in finding my match,” he stated.

Dominique eyed him. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Her tone was cautious, which nearly made him smirk. She was right to be wary of him because once he outlined his plan, she would not be pleased.

“I don’t arrange marriages, Your Highness.”

“I’m aware.”

“Then, how do you expect me to help you?”

“You’ll be the one marrying me.”

Dominique stared at him, her expression shuttering. “Pardon me?”

Ronan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I need a wife immediately and for the next five to ten years. I don’t want to deal with the hassle of finding someone I can tolerate and hashing out a contract. You owe me a debt, and this is the repayment.”

Dominique blinked slowly. Her eyes were the color of the arctic sky when she opened them again, pinning him with her gaze. His skin suddenly felt chilled.

“Repaying my debt to you would be posing as your fiancée for a short while or finding you a match. This is a great deal more than that.”

“You are the debtor. You do not get to choose the terms of repayment. Only I can do that.”

“I’m afraid I don’t agree.” Though her words stated her disagreement, her demeanor was calm and cool, as though they were discussing the weather.

Ronan wondered exactly what it would take to break through the icy shell she wore like armor.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Because you chose not to go back to the castle when I told you, I am cursed to live a very, very long existence without my soulmate. I don’t think five or ten years of your life is too much to ask as repayment.”

Dominique grew very still at his words. The blue of her eyes deepened and the green reappeared in her irises. He’d never seen eyes change the ways hers did. It was fascinating. It was also a tell, one he would obviously need when dealing with her because she had one of the best poker faces he’d ever seen.

“All right. You have a point. But I’m afraid I can’t agree until I know why you need me to marry you and what exactly I’m agreeing to.”

Shocked that she seemed to be capitulating so easily, Ronan decided to be completely honest. With her fae heritage, she would know if he was lying anyway. “My parents chose a bride for me ten years ago. They offered to re-instate my title in the Southern Isle and thus my claim to the throne.,” he admitted. “I refused to marry her and remained disinherited. Not because I don’t like her. I do. We’re friends. But neither of us wanted to marry the other. She prefers…other company. I don’t think either of us would be physically able to produce the required heirs.”

He didn’t spell it out, but Jillian, the fae noblewoman his parents chose for him, preferred the company of women.

“Honestly, I don’t care about ruling the kingdom. I would be horrible at it. My younger sister, Aisling, is much more suited to the role. But she’s nineteen. She’s not old enough to take the throne yet, and she’s overheard my parents discussing the issue more than once. They are actively searching for a prince or nobleman to marry her off to at the age of twenty-one. At the moment, our neighboring king is negotiating with them for her hand. I’ve known him for a very long time, and he is not a good man. He’s an even worse ruler, but his coffers are far richer than ours. Mostly because the tithes he places on his subjects are far too high. My father knows this as well, but he’s willing to throw his daughter to the wolves if it means merging the two kingdoms. I’m not about to allow my sister to be used as a bargaining chip and be miserable and probably abused for the rest of her life. Especially since she would be a far better ruler than any of us.”

He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. Just talking about all of this enraged him.

“After a great deal of negotiation, my parents have agreed to reinstate my rank if I marry a fae woman and return to the realm. I think my mother pushed my father into it because she knows what’s in store for Aisling if she marries Frederick. My plan is to marry you and remain married long enough for my parents to step down. Once we’ve ascended, we’ll give Aisling a couple of years to acclimate and take a stronger role in governing the kingdom, and then pass the crown to her. My mother is ready to be done with ruling and she’s pushing my father hard, so I doubt it would be more than two to three years before they stepped down. After that, another seven to eight years before Aisling would be accepted as the queen, married or not.”

Dominique nodded. “That all makes sense, but you’re forgetting something.”

“What is that?”

“I have no rank in the fae court.”

“But you do,” he argued. “You are a descendent of some of the most renowned fairy godmothers in Magic. Your addition to the royal family would be seen as a boon for the kingdom. Even my parents would overlook your lack of rank for that.”

“You know your family and people better than I do, so I will trust your judgement there, but there’s another big issue.”

He waved a hand, gesturing for her to continue. He saw her gaze latch on to his wrist where the curse mark should have been. The curse mark he’d covered with a glamour every day for the last thirty years.

Her eyes snapped back to his when he crossed his arms again. “Your parents will expect heirs, and I won’t be having children with someone I don’t plan to remain married to.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Ronan said.

“It won’t?”

“It took my parents twenty years to get pregnant with me and another twenty-five to have my sister. As long as they think we’re actively trying for a child, they will still abdicate to us.”

“What about my company? My job?”

He shrugged. “I don’t see why you couldn’t still maintain it. You might not be able to be here every day, just as I won’t be able to attend to my work here in the human realm daily, but I wouldn’t ask you to give it up.”

“I don’t have the staff to be away for long periods.”

“Could you grow the staff in the next six to eight months?”

She sighed, which meant the answer was yes.

“Any other concerns?” he asked.

“What about my family?”

“What about them?”

“They might object.”

Ronan bent over and laughed, slapping his knee.

“I don’t see what’s so funny about that,” Dominique stated, her voice stiff.

“Your parents will be ecstatic. They’ve been pushing your older sisters at me several times a year since the first time your family came to visit our kingdom.”

Dominique nodded. “I see.” She got to her feet. “Well, you’ve given me a lot to consider. I’ll need a little time to?—”

“No.”

She blinked at him. For the first time, he could read her expression. She was confused. “Pardon me?”

“No, you cannot have time. I need an answer tonight. And if it’s not agreement, I’m afraid I’ll have to contact your parents and ask them for your hand in marriage.”

Her mouth fell open as she stared down at him. “You’ll have to what?”

Ronan also got to his feet. In her heels, she was only a couple of inches, maybe three, shorter than him. “You’ll agree to marry me, here, tonight, or I’ll contact your parents when I get back to Magic and demand your hand in marriage.”

Her mouth snapped shut as she continued to stare at him.

Ronan had painted her into a corner, and he knew it. Normally, he would have at least pretended to be gracious about it, but her distant, dispassionate demeanor had irritated him to the point that he didn’t care about diplomacy any longer.

“What shall it be, princess?” he asked.