CAROL MARINELLI - Playing the Royal Game

‘That’s my dad,’ Allegra attempted, for how could she even begin to explain to this cold, arrogant man the irreverence that made her father so appealing—at least, it did back home. ‘At least he didn’t just peer down his nose and…’ She couldn’t finish; if she did she’d make a fool of herself and start crying. The whole night had been wretched. Her whole time on Santina had been wretched—almost the second they had landed he’d turned into one of them. What had happened to the man she had met in London?

‘You’ve changed.’ She said it accusingly but it just served to irritate him.

‘Of course I have—here I am Crown Prince…’

Didn’t she know it!

He was as cold and aloof as his father. Even tonight as she’d been presented to the king, shy, nervous—petrified, in fact—he’d barely passed comment on her transformation. Dressed in a lavish deep red gown, her hair smoothed and gleaming, still she clearly hadn’t passed. She’d seen the slight sniff from his father, the disapproving looks from his family, and she could have put up with that, with just a few words of encouragement from Alex. If it had been real, if they had been in love, it would have been unbearable to be made to feel so second rate.

If they had been in love.

‘Well—’ she caught up as he marched off ‘—you got what you wanted.’

He wanted the conversation left there; he had something rather difficult to tell Allegra, a rather unexpected turn of events that she wasn’t going to take too well and he certainly didn’t want to say it here, didn’t want to be seen in a corridor rowing—they were, after all, supposed to be in love. But her words confused him, demanded closer inspection, and maybe some of Bobby’s inhibitions had rubbed off on him, maybe one night with the Jackson clan and he was starting to act like them, for he momentarily forget his station, forgot that he must always be one step removed from any conversation. Even though he had taken her wrist and started walking, Alessandro found himself stopping again.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You planned it.’

He would not row here, so instead he opened a door, any door, and went to drag her in, but he was greeted by the sight of a couple—well, the arms and legs of a couple—and they were too far gone to even notice they’d been invaded.

‘Good God!’ He closed the door and stood in the corridor; the palace had been turned into a seedy nightclub. As he turned, expecting to see her look of horror, he was less than amused when she rolled her eyes and gave a wry grin.

‘You think that’s funny?’

‘At least they’re enjoying themselves.’

‘Doesn’t it abhor you?’

‘I think it’s lovely.’ She didn’t actually, Allegra just wanted to shock him now, wanted at least some reaction. ‘At least they know how to have a good time.’

He refused to be drawn. Instead, as the corridor was empty, he asked for clarification to the statement that had incensed him. ‘What do you mean I planned it?’ He could not believe what he was hearing. ‘I’m making sure the events manager is fired in the morning! No one would plan for this!’

‘You made sure there were photographers…’ Allegra pointed out.

‘To show that we’re madly in love.’ Sarcastic though his response he stopped himself, actually gave a brief shake of his head, for he was not going to be drawn.

‘It was your plan to shame my family… to make sure that tomorrow there’d be no question that I wasn’t suitable.’

‘Your family took care of that all by themselves,’ Alex said, but that knot of guilt tightened. ‘Come on.’ He took her hand to lead her, but she was not about to be dismissed. At the end of the hall they would turn off, would separate, him to his royal suite, she to her guest room, and there was just too much to be said to leave things here.

‘I want to talk.’

‘We will talk.’

‘I don’t want to leave things till tomorrow.’

‘We won’t,’ Alex said, and then, because he had no choice but to tell her, he did. ‘Now that we’re officially engaged we’ll be sleeping together.’

‘We bloody well won’t!’

‘Not sleeping together…’ he said hurriedly, and at least managed to look a little shamefaced. ‘I had an argument with my parents. I was trying to point out how archaic things are, how ridiculous it is…’ He watched her face, watched her eyes widen, her mouth open to speak; he could feel her tension, like a can of fizzy drink being shaken and shaken and any moment now she would explode, just fizz out her anger all over the corridor. ‘I was talking more about the chosen-bride thing,’ he tried to placate her. ‘This is my parents’ attempt to show me they’ve moved into the twenty-first century. Now that we’re officially engaged we can share a bed.’

‘No…’ Her reaction was instant, there was absolutely no question, but as she spoke he heard a noise behind him, turned and saw the Scandal photographer about to come into the corridor, just as Allegra exploded. ‘If you even think for one moment that I’m going to share—’

He had no choice—there was but one way to silence her. He pressed his mouth to hers, but she was having none of it, and jerked her head away, her protest about to continue. So he pinned her to the wall, took her face in his hands and just pressed her right in.

And pushing him off with her rigid lips wasn’t working. Alex was tall and strong, so she opened her mouth instead to shout, except he kissed her harder; his hands moved faster than hers and captured her wrists as they moved. He wedged her to the wall and she was furious. Yes, he’d paid her, but not for this!

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