Crowning His Convenient Princess (Once Upon A Seduction... Book 4) Read online

  His world was changing. He would need to find a wife, and he would need to be faithful to that wife.

  The very idea of such a chore set his teeth on edge. He could think of no woman at all that would amuse him for the rest of his life, and if he quit engaging in risky behaviors such as racing cars around the autobahn and jumping out of helicopters, his life would likely have a longer expectancy.

  Really, this was a terrible plan, but it was the only way he could see to help Astrid.

  Though she did not know it, his life had been devoted to that protection.

  He would not falter now.

  Marriage was, in the grand scheme of things a small price to pay. And for her he would do it. Perhaps not happily, but it would be done.

  Because Gunnar von Bjornland might never be King, but he was the master of his own life. And once he set his mind to something, he would damn well see it done.

  This was no exception.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “HERE YOU HAVE IT,” Latika said, setting a stack of folders onto Gunnar’s desk. “Veritable binders of women.”

  He looked at the stack, then back up at Latika, one elbow resting on the desk, one brow raised in an impudent manner. “I’m rather insulted you have brought me so much choice,” he said.

  Latika blinked. “How is that insulting?”

  “I should think that the criteria for becoming my bride would be so exacting that you would have little more than a slim volume to present me with.”

  “I should have thought you would want choice,” she said, bristling against his rather pronounced lack of gratitude.

  She had gone to a lot of trouble to dig up so many eligible women, lacking in scandal and in possession of beauty.

  “I haven’t time to do so much reading,” he said.

  “Do you find it so laborious? To read profiles on women you might marry.”

  “I find it boring.”

  “I have here in these folders options, for a woman that you might be tasked with sleeping with for the rest of your life. How is it you find that dull?” she pressed.

  “When one turns sex into homework even that can be boring.”

  He was impossible. He was impossible, and he was ridiculous, and she had half a mind to kill him where he sat. She could do it with a letter opener, a paperweight or half a dozen other items on his desk.

  As solid as her friendship with Astrid was, she had a feeling that Astrid would take a dim view to Latika assassinating her brother. Just maybe. If Astrid only knew the surrounding story she might forgive her.

  “Who do you think the top five are?” he asked. “Use your knowledge of me to guess who I might find the most likely five.”

  “Gunnar,” she said, keeping her tone frosty. “If I had that kind of insight into who you are as a person... Well, I would probably throw myself off the nearest cliff.”

  “A test then.” He folded his large hands in front of him and it didn’t escape her notice they were scarred. Odd for a man of his position, she would think. “Who do you think my top five would be?”

  Latika gritted her teeth. She would lie back and think of Bjornland. She would do her very best to remind herself she worked for the palace.

  And this was service to Astrid.

  And for Astrid, she could do anything. The other woman had essentially saved Latika’s life. And it was something that she was not going to forget anytime soon. Or ever. She was eternally grateful for all that Astrid had done. Working with Gunnar on this marriage project was a small thing to ask.

  “All right,” she said, doing her best to cover up just how aggrieved she felt. “If I had to choose, I would choose not so much to please you, but to give maximum improvement to your reputation, and to the reputation of the country. Therefore, we can set aside your personal preferences as secondary.”

  He rubbed his chin, the light in his blue eyes wicked. “Can we?”

  “Yes,” she said decisively. “This marriage is for the country, after all.”

  “And yet, I feel that if I am to be shackled to one woman for the rest of my life, it will have to be a marriage bed that I enjoy the idea of being shackled to.” His lips curved upward. “Rather, a woman not averse to being shackled to the marriage bed for my pleasure. I’ve never been one who enjoyed being shackled. But I have nothing against doing a bit of shackling.”

  Yet again, she ignored the searing heat in her body, and affected an incredibly bored expression. “Yes, yes. I and the rest of the world are aware of the fact that you are shocking, and love to engage in edgy sexual activity. I promise you that if a double entendre presents itself you do not have to be so obvious as to speak it.”

  “Oh, but I enjoy being obvious.”

  “Do you?” she asked. “Because I would say that the fact you own your own company was not obvious at all.”

  She hadn’t intended to bring that up.

  In fact, she had every intention of ignoring it completely in the conversation today, if only to spite him slightly. And herself. Because the fact that he was a secret mogul fascinated her. And the one thing she was eternally trying to ignore when it came to Gunnar was her fascination with him. And anything that seemed to foster further fascination she resented.

  There was something about him that enticed her to act in ways she knew she should not. She didn’t like it. It made her feel like she was not above the rest of the female population of the world in any way at all. And she liked to think that she wasn’t that basic.

  “That’s the trick,” he said. “Be obvious enough over here that you can have your secrets where you choose.”

  “I see.” She took a breath. “Well. That aside.” She shuffled through the folder and plucked out one. “I would choose...these.”

  “Explanations,” he demanded, taking the stack of folders in his hand. “Or do I have to do everything myself.”

  “You have done absolutely nothing for yourself since I walked in,” she said.

  “That isn’t true. I’ve been breathing the entire time. I’m keeping myself alive. For which you and the rest of the world should be supremely grateful.”

  “I’m about to expire from gratitude,” she said. “The first candidate is Hannah Whitman, an English rose. She will compliment you well. Though, your progeny will likely burst into flames in the sun.”

  He laughed, explosive and deep, hitting her in unexpected places.

  “Well,” he said. “Melanin deficit aside, she is pretty. And what attributes do you suppose she would bring to our alliance?”

  “She’s extremely wealthy in her own right, her family is very successful in manufacturing. She has started several charities, with a focus on educating children with special needs. She is more than willing to do the work, not simply write a check.”

  “I imagine that means there are many photographs of her with grateful children.”

  “You are correct. She is a light to all the world.”

  “Well, I have always thought that one’s wife should be able to double as a flashlight.”

  “Best of all,” Latika continued, “she’s scandal free.”

  “Excellent. Because I have enough scandals for ten people. It’s one thing I do not need a wife to bring to our marriage.”

  “Next is Lily Addington.”

  “Another Brit?”

  “Yes. Her family owns horses.”

  He frowned. “That sounds like an awful lot of time spent at racetracks.”

  “Would you not find that enjoyable?”

  “No. I prefer my gambling to take place in a casino. It’s much more civilized.”

  “All right. Bim Attah. She is a Nigerian heiress and UN ambassador for women’s rights. She has a PhD from Oxford, and has been instrumental in supplying feminine hygiene products to impoverished girls throughout the world.”

  He
leaned back in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. “She sounds a bit overqualified, don’t you think? PhD. I’m not sure I’m equal to that task.”

  “You have a title. I suspect that in many ways that outstrips a PhD.”

  “One you are born with,” he pointed out. “One you must work for.”

  She arched a brow. “Shall I take her off the list?”

  “Oh, no,” he said. “I feel nothing if not entitled to things that might be too good for me. Leave her on the list.”

  She cycled through the rest of them quickly with Gunnar vetoing all but numbers one and three.

  “Okay,” she said, sighing heavily. “I will attempt to arrange a meeting for you. Whatever you do, try not to be yourself when you meet them.”

  “I never am,” Gunnar said. “Why, when there are so many other interesting people to choose to be?”

  Latika gritted her teeth. “Why indeed.”

  She turned away from him, and her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down and saw that it was an unknown number.

  “Oh, don’t decline the call on account of me,” Gunter said. “There’s no need to worry about manners in my presence.”

  “I wouldn’t,” she said, answering the phone decisively. It had nothing to do with her anyway. She worked for Astrid, and she couldn’t afford to miss any kind of communication just in case.

  “Hello?”

  “Latika Bakshmi.”

  The voice was strange, low and husky, and something about the accent sent a familiar sliver of dread beneath Latika’s skin.

  “Yes?”

  “Check your email.”

  The line went dead. Latika lowered the phone and stared at it, feeling like she lost herself for a full thirty seconds. She had no sense of where she was, or what she was doing.

  Until she felt the intensity of Gunnar’s gaze on the side of her face. She looked toward him. “What?”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’ve gone very pale.”

  “No. A strange phone call. Likely a prank of some kind.” She tried to force a smile. In spite of herself, she swallowed hard and guided her thumb over the email icon on her phone.

  She prayed that Gunnar didn’t notice the slight tremble in her hands.

  She did indeed have a new email.

  From an address she didn’t recognize. She opened the email, it had one line of text. And a photograph.

  So there you are.

  And beneath those words was a picture. Zoomed in tightly and cropped close. Latika could just see the edge of Astrid’s dress, and that gave her an indication of the event.

  The wedding.

  Astrid and Mauro’s wedding. Latika had been standing just behind the Queen, and she had been sure that she was not in any sort of limelight position. She had been with Astrid for nearly four years and never had been.

  But they had found her. Finally.

  She swallowed hard, fear like lead in her stomach.

  The worst part was, it hadn’t been her parents who had found her. She was sure of that. Because while her parents would have happily hauled her away from her newfound life, they wouldn’t engage in this level of theatrics. That she knew.

  They would still cling to the idea that this was all for her own good, for their own good as well, but also for hers. They would lie to her, lie to themselves, all the while using soft, soothing voices and telling her to think of the future.

  No, this kind of threatening language was definitely the work of the man who was supposed to be her husband by now.

  The man she had run away from.

  The man she would rather die than find herself joined to.

  Latika took a breath and put her hands down, holding her phone closely to her thigh.

  “What is it?” Gunnar asked.

  “Nothing,” she said. “I will make the necessary inquiries, and make arrangements for you to meet these women. In fact, I think we will organize a ball.”

  “A ball?”

  “Yes. For all the eligible ladies in the file.”

  “I said that I’m only interested in these two.”

  “But why limit your options, Your Highness. You’re correct. The chemistry that you may feel with one of them is important to explore. Allow me to take care of it. I will handle everything.”

  Her mind was spinning as she walked out of Gunnar’s office. On the one hand, creating such a spectacle around the country at this time was possibly unwise. But on the other hand... Well, on the other hand an event like this would necessitate an increase in security. And with so many eyes on the country, she imagined that Ragnar would be loath to attempt to take her now.

  No, he preferred to do things secretly. In the dark of night, essentially.

  His position as Norwegian nobility mattered far too much for him to go and create bad blood between himself and the Royals in Bjornland.

  And in truth, Latika had counted on that. Always. When she had first come to Astrid for the job, it had been on her mind. The fact that Bjornland was politically involved with Norway, and that it would put Ragnar in a bad position should he cross the Queen, had mattered to her.

  Because she needed protection.

  The palace guards would provide it. The increased attention would provide it. She had to believe that.

  The alternative was far too awful to consider.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE ENSUING WEEK was a whirlwind. At least, it looked as though it were one for Latika.

  Gunnar did nothing but sit back and enjoy the show.

  Over breakfast one morning, Astrid commented on it. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her work so hard at anything. And that’s saying quite a bit.”

  “Yes, she has taken control of the task admirably,” he said, not rising to his sister’s bait. Because he knew there was bait. Even if he wasn’t sure what the hook buried in said bait was meant to drag him toward.

  “Are you assisting her at all?” Astrid asked.

  “Do you assist her in the planning of parties?”

  Astrid gave him an icy look. “She is my assistant.”

  At that moment, Astrid’s husband came into the room holding Gunnar’s nephew. It had taken Gunnar a time to accept his brother-in-law. He had not trusted the man at first, but then, given the way that his sister had met him, Gunnar felt he could hardly be blamed.

  Astrid had engaged in subterfuge, essentially tricking Mauro into getting her pregnant. And when he had discovered the ruse, Mauro had been decisive in his action. He had demanded that Astrid marry him, and that, was what Gunnar had taken exception to.

  The man was common born, and it wasn’t as if Gunnar was any sort of snob, but he had grave concerns about anyone seeking to use his sister. As it had turned out, his feelings for Astrid had been genuine and their marriage had become a very happy one.

  But, Gunnar was still getting used to the situation.

  “That’s different,” Astrid said, rising from her seat and crossing the room, giving Mauro a kiss on the cheek before taking her son into her arms. “You should be helping her. Since she is helping you clean up your mess.”

  For Astrid.

  He wasn’t going to say that. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him. And were it not for his sister, he would happily go on not caring.

  “I’m sorry, what exactly did you want me to do?” he asked. “Ensure that the punch is spiked?”

  “I don’t know, something that wouldn’t send my assistant to an early grave. Since I am quite attached to her.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Something that I’m not sure I understand. You seem more fond of her than you are of me at times. And yet, for all I can tell, Latika seems to lack a sense of fun, or humor.”

  “That’s a phenomenon that only presents i
tself in your presence, Gunnar. I find her amusing and delightful.” His sister’s gaze was glued to him. “Perhaps it’s just you.”

  “Everybody likes me.”

  “Everyone thinks you can do something for them. That’s different. I don’t think Latika cares one way or the other whether or not you can do something for her.”

  That wasn’t true. Everyone was an opportunist. And everyone would use a person if the need was great enough. He’d learned that early, and he’d learned it well.

  Nothing could insulate you when someone decided to use you as a tool. Not even family. Not even blood.

  “She works for you. If she needs a favor... You’re the one she’ll go to,” he pointed out.

  “Are you implying she doesn’t actually like me?”

  “Did you not just imply that none of my friends actually like me?”

  “Are either of you going to threaten to have the guards shoot the other this time?” Mauro asked, his brother-in-law’s expression one of amusement.

  “Probably not,” Astrid said.

  “The two of you make me so sad that I was an only child,” Mauro said.

  “I can see where you would be jealous,” Astrid responded serenely.

  They settled in to eat breakfast then, and Gunnar was bemused by the domesticity before him. It was difficult to imagine himself settling into such a life.

  And yet, he didn’t think it would make him entirely miserable. Of course, he would never feel for his wife the way that Mauro and Astrid seemed to feel for each other.

  And there would be no children in his marriage.

  The line was guaranteed to continue without his help, and he was not the heir. Therefore the task wasn’t his.

  After the childhood he’d endured, he had no interest in exploring the relationship between a parent and child again. Even from the opposite side.

  The door opened, and Latika entered, her black hair swept back into a twist, her makeup sedate. And yet, she glowed. He ignored the tightness that he felt in his stomach. In his groin.

  “I do hope I’m not interrupting,” she said. “Queen Astrid, we have an appointment with your stylist. We must ensure that you are appropriately outfitted for the ball.”