Page 30 of The Princess Trap

“And maybe you’re shit at explaining things.”

He smiled, sudden and unexpected. “You’re right. I am terrible at explaining things. I have no finesse.”

“Really? I would’ve said your problem was getting to the point.”

“Fine.” He held out his hands as if in supplication. “The point is this: I need a fiancée—specifically, you—because of yesterday’s shit-show. And, yes, I realise it was mostly my fault.”

“Completely your fault.”

He winked at her.Actuallywinked at her. “Well, maybe. But I never take full responsibility if I can help it.”

“Wow. You really are a prince.”

“Yep. Now, I realise there’s not much in this deal for you—”

“There’snothingin this deal for me.”

“—So I added a financial incentive.”

Cherry paused. She looked down at the paper in her hands. Then she flicked through, faster and faster, until she came to the part that mattered.

The number on the page made her brows shoot up. Then Ruben leant over and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. That’s how much I’m going to give you if you refuse.”

Her head snapped up. “I beg your pardon?”

“If you don’t sign. That’s the amount I’m giving you anyway, you know, to make up for the probable media fall-out.” He shook his head, flicking forward another few pages. “But you forfeit that if you sign, and instead you get this.”

She blinked. “Isn’t that the same amount?”

“Monthly.”

Cherry stared.

Her mind ran through calculations in a split second. Maggie’s healthcare fees in the States—her blood transfusions, her antibiotics, her hydroxycarbamide—and the tuition fees that her scholarships didn’t cover…

Cherry could pay them. Easily.

No more debt. No more panic. Her whole family—her parents, her uncle and her aunts—could stop pouring all their money into Maggie’s education and healthcare, could stop hiding the way it gutted them all. And her sister could continue to live the life she deserved, without worrying about her illness.

But it couldn’t be that easy. Could it?

She licked her lips, which felt suddenly dry. “I don’t know if an engagement with me would… would help you avoid a scandal. Or whatever it is you want.”

He crossed his arms, watching her with all the patience in the world. “And why not? Please, explain.”

“Well...” She floundered, awkward. What did he want her to do? Lay out all the things about herself that most of society found distasteful? Remind them all that she wasn’t considered princess material? Fuck that.

But then he pushed. “Tell me. What is it about you that’s so terrible?”

“Nothing,” she said immediately. “I’m fine. I’m great.Doesn’t mean everyoneelsesees me that way. You’re a prince, and I’m, you know, normal.” She winced. “No offence. Plus, I’m not really considered ladylike. Because…” She waved vaguely down at her body.

He followed the motion of her hand, his eyes cool and assessing as they travelled over her. Then he said, his voice bland, “I see no issue.”

She glared. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re annoying.”

“So I’m told. Really, stop worrying. I know how these things work.”

“Believe me,” she said grimly, “so do I.”