Page 6 of Undeclared Heir
“I’m not marrying you,” I sigh.
“You are, but my concern is that you are aware of my motives when no one else is privy to them.” He cocks an eyebrow, and my eyes widen. “How do you know my plans for the crown?”
“Fine.” I give in and ruin the plot of the book for him. “Your brother is a twatwaffle who is entitled to the crown but unmarried. If you marry, you can steal it from him, which is where Eliza comes in. You want to hate her and give her the cold shoulder every moment you can. But at the ball, you whisk her off into the gardens to get to know the woman you’re supposed to marry. Oh, and then my favourite part, you fuck her against a fountain.” I’ve touched myself far too many times to that scene… “And you realise you want more than just a stand-in wife. But wait… there’s more! She still hates you, so you spend the remainder of the book trying to win her over. She gives in—because hashtag happily ever after.”
James’ nostrils flair slightly, his jaw tics, and… Oh, no. He’s getting ideas because of the fountain thing. Did I just say hashtag?
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to lie down.”
I turn, but he grips my wrist, spinning me in place and pulling me to him, just like earlier. The wind is knocked out of me as our chests collide. “I’m unsure of what book you’re referring to, or what sort of witchcraft is at play here, but I don’t think I can be any more clear. I don’t want this Miss Eliza you insist on bringing up.”
I swallow hard. “It’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“Perhaps you and your family are working with my brother, but you’re mine now, Miss Anna. You can choose to live happily as my wife, perhaps an occasional tryst by a fountain as you suggested, or”—his eyebrow cocks, but a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, making me shiver—“you can spend the rest of your days locked away, except for forced engagements.”
Under no circumstances will I get stuck in this story—I need to get out and wake up. Otherwise, I’ll absolutely be locked away in a castle in 18th-century England. I don’t care if this is a book, I’m not birthing six or seven boys just like him. “As amazing as that sounds, I’m going to have to politely decline your forced arrangements. Not only is it not what the author intended, but you’re kind of an arrogant prick.”
A growl rumbles in his chest; I may have taken this too far. “Need I remind you that this ‘arrogant prick’ is your prince?”
“You don’t want me. You love the idea of someone challenging you. That’s why you matched so well with Eliza; she doesn’t let you get away with anything… until you’re behind closed doors.”
“Will you cease this madness? There is no Eliza. No author you speak of. While we both heard someone was being prepared for my arrival, it was confirmed that no woman by that name exists.” He pulls me tighter. “You, however, are the perfect woman to step in as my bride.”
There’s no getting through to this man. Granted, he’s fictional, belonging to thousands of women, but he’s not mine. Still, none of this feels fake—the way he’s looking at me, his hand nestled against my lower back keeping me close. If only he were real. I’m not sure how long this charade of a dream is going to carry on, so I may as well enjoy the journey… even if it potentially messes with the plot of the story I adore.
“You want a bride, fine, you’ve got one. Under one condition.”
A small smirk tugs at his lips. “And what’s that?”
“You don’t make me dance.”
James
Iwant Anna.
She’s infuriatingly beautiful, and I can’t tear my eyes away from hers… or keep myself from touching her. The need to have her consumes me. I’ll have her, it’s just a matter of how. “Luckily for you, my future wife, I don’t require dancing from anyone accompanying me. But if you are to make demands, I shall be afforded the same courtesy.”
“Name your price.”
Her hands press firmly against my chest, and I pull one away, kissing her palm. “You allow me to kiss you again, whenever I please, wherever I please.”
Lips parted, her breath hitches, and I desperately want to steal hers as my own. “Probably not the best idea, since you only need a fake wife to become King.”
I can’t help my smile as I reply, “It’s by far the best idea I’ve had all day.”
As I lean in, the faint sound of a door clicking behind me has me adjusting my posture and releasing Anna. One of the help scurries past us, and Anna whispers, “Want to get out of here?”
“Do we have a deal?”
Her eyes alight, she nods, and I swear she briefly licks her lip. “Sure, James. Oh, um, what shall I call you when we’re married?”
“Your James.”
“In no world will I ever call you that.”
“What if a fountain is involved?” I counter.
“Especially if a fountain is involved.”