A Royal Proposition

emotional ties didn’t come into it.

How could they? She didn’t need him long term. That was why he’d chosen her. She was Australian, and she’d be off home as soon as she had her money.

Leaving him with Belle.

Which was the way he wanted it, he told himself hastily. The way it had to be.

The sensible way.

As was Rose’s decision to wear his mother’s wedding dress. It was economical. Wedding dresses-especially ones suitable for a royal wedding-cost a fortune. She was saving him money with her decision.

Putting the convenience of the employer first!

So why didn’t she feel like one of his employees?

‘I’m not very good at this Cinderella thing,’ he said out loud. ‘I’m not comfortable with it. It’s the fact that she has nothing and deserves so much that’s making this all so damned gut-wrenching.

‘That’s why you gave her the dog.

‘That’s right. She has nothing. A dog can’t hurt.

‘And you’re comfortable with her wearing your mother’s wedding dress?

‘It’s sensible.

‘Hell!’

He turned over and pummelled his pillows, trying not to envisage Rose in his mother’s wedding dress. And then trying not to envisage Rose sleeping just through the wall. Could he hear her? There was a soft murmuring through the door. She was awake. She was probably lonely. All he had to do, he thought, was take his key and-

No!

That was the way of madness. He had to stop Rose from turning into Penny-Rose every time he thought of her.

But she was so close…

How could he block her out? Out of his thoughts? Out of his life?

He’d ring Belle, he decided. She’d talk sense into him. He’d phone her and talk through the Palmerstone job. They’d been working on it together, so she wouldn’t think it was strange…

It was one in the morning!

He put the phone down with a reluctant grin. This was not a good plan. Belle would think such a phone call was weird. He’d never hear the end of it.

But he had to speak to someone or he’d go nuts.

‘What I need,’ he told the darkness, ‘is another Leo. I wonder whether Rose will let me share…’

His key lay in his hand, and he held it so hard that it hurt.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘JUST leave everything to me.’

Back at the castle, groomed to an inch of her life, Penny-Rose was waiting to become Alastair’s official fiancee. They’d called a press conference, the gallery was packed and it was all Penny-Rose could do not to bolt for Australia.

She might have recovered her equilibrium since Paris, she thought desperately. She might have made a few resolutions, but she wasn’t a limelight kind of girl.

‘This is Belle’s forte,’ she muttered. ‘Can’t a substitute wife do as well?’

‘You are a substitute wife,’ Alastair reminded her, and she grimaced.

Oh, great. As if she needed reminding of that.

‘You don’t need to be nervous. Leave the talking to me.’

‘I can’t do much else with my grasp of French,’ she said bitterly. Then she took two deep breaths and got a grip. Cowardice was not what was needed. Resolution was what was needed. From this moment on.

‘I do know a phrase that might be useful,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘How about, Vous ne me ferez jamais parler?’ She clutched her throat with melodramatic flourish. ‘Jamais, jamais, jamais…’

‘You’ll never make me talk,’ Alastair translated faintly. He grinned as the tension eased a bit. ‘Never, never, never. Very useful. Where on earth did you learn that?’

She arched her eyebrows in superior fashion. ‘Where else but from my “Use-full Frase For Toorist” book? It’s the same place I learned I am bleeding to death, That man has a gun and Can you tell me how to reach the border?’ She managed a smirk. ‘See? I’m ready for anything.’

Alastair choked on laughter and the tension dissipated even further. But… This was serious. ‘As I said, maybe it’s best if I do the talking. Most of the press have a solid grasp of English, but-’

‘But you don’t want me to mess things up by threatening border runs.’ Penny-Rose nodded her understanding. ‘OK. I know my place. We Cinderella types are designed to sit and simper and look beautiful, and hope like hell the pumpkins stay at bay.’

‘Rose…’

She put up her hands. ‘I know. I know. I’m being paid heaps, and I’ll be good. I promise.’ Then she peeped through a crack in the door, trying to see what was waiting for them. ‘I wonder if our cameraman from Paris is here? That’ll be one friendly face.’

‘Yeah, he knows us intimately, right down to the colour of your knickers.’ Alastair grimaced.

‘He doesn’t know the real me wears cotton-tails.’

‘Cotton-tails?’ Alastair said faintly. ‘What are-’

‘You don’t want to know.’ She chuckled. ‘If you want to keep your delusion that real women wear black lace thongs, it’s fine by me. Oh, he is here. I can see him.’

‘He’ll be here.’ Marguerite was fluttering round the edges, adjusting Alastair’s tie and putting one last dab of powder on Rose’s nose. ‘He’d be mad not to be. A new princess… It’s what the press have been waiting for for years.’

‘Then let’s not keep them waiting.’ Alastair’s mind was still on the cotton-tail conversation and he was finding it hard to concentrate. But he had to get a grip. Somehow… He swung the door wide. ‘But, Rose, for heaven’s sake, leave the talking to me!’

Only, of course, she couldn’t. Because, after the first brief announcement, the press didn’t want to hear from Alastair alone. They knew this man. Who they didn’t know was the lady he was with, and they were fascinated.

‘Tell us about yourself,’ one asked in English, and Penny-Rose hesitated, obedient to instruction.

‘May I leave that to my-’

‘No,’ she was told very definitely, and before Alastair could get a word in they’d pushed her further. ‘Tell us what you think of our country.’

Well, she’d been obedient for all of a minute. It hadn’t worked. So what else was a girl to do but tell the truth?

‘It’s the most beautiful country I’ve ever been in,’ she said frankly. And then, despite her nervousness, her eyes twinkled. ‘Apart from mine.’

‘You love Australia?’

‘Of course I do!’

‘Then what’s the attraction here?’

She rolled her eyes at that, and turned toward her intended. She looked Alastair up and down, taking in his immaculate suit and gorgeous tie and the way his eyes creased into laughter lines and…and all of him. Her laughter lines creased into readiness.

‘Need you ask?’ She chuckled, and the room laughed with her.

They loved her. There were flashbulbs going everywhere and the questioning intensified.

‘People are saying this is a marriage of convenience,’ she was told. ‘What do you say to that?’