Affairs of State Read online

  “We all know what happened the last time a member of the British royal family lost his head over an American. He abandoned his country and his duty in the name of love. Not because he wanted to, but because he knew it was an absolute requirement.” His emphasis on the last two words was underscored with a hiss.

  “Why?” Now she was curious to hear his answer.

  “Because he knew she could not possibly fit in.”

  “I thought it was because the monarch can’t marry a divorcée. For starters, Simon’s not a monarch, or very likely to be one. And second, I’m not divorced.” Her own boldness shocked her. Pimm’s must be powerful stuff.

  The monstrous brows shot up. “Times are different now, but not that different. Her Majesty holds very traditional views, and each of her grandchildren has been groomed from birth to follow a specific path. Simon will marry a member of the British nobility, and will raise his children here to be members of the British aristocracy. Lady Sophia Alnwick will be his future wife and the wedding invitations are all but printed. She’d be here with him today if she wasn’t holding vigil at her esteemed father’s deathbed. Within the next day or so she’ll inherit all his lands and wealth and be the richest woman in England.”

  Ariella blinked. “I hardly think Simon needs to marry for money or prestige.”

  “Those two things are never a negative.” Derek’s beady black gaze chilled her. “You are a…a nobody. The illegitimate daughter of an American upstart who’s clawed his way into a temporary position of power. Don’t delude yourself that you can compete with the thousand-year history of the Alnwick family. Like his brother’s, Simon’s life path has been planned since birth. The estate he lives in, the so-called charity he’s so enamored of, these are all part and parcel of his role. If you get your claws into him and cause him to do something foolish, he’ll lose both of them.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “No? The estate isn’t his. It belongs to Her Majesty. That silly charity is funded almost entirely by the royal coffers. Simon’s role in the family is a job like any other. His employment is contingent on Her Majesty’s largesse, and can be rescinded at any time. Think about that when you kiss him.”

  He hissed the word kiss, and spittle formed on his bulbous lips. Then he turned and marched away. She wilted like the mint in her Pimm’s. Was this true? Was Simon really a royal puppet whose strings could be cut at any time?

  Part of her wanted to encourage him to tell them all to shove it and live his own life. Then she thought about how much he loved his home at Whist Castle. And how proud he was of the achievements of World Connect. Could she really be responsible for causing him to lose them both?

  Her legs were shaking and her hand sweating around her glass. She hurried to the drinks tent and got another Pimm’s, then walked around the perimeter of the royal enclosure, pretending to watch the match. She cheered wildly, heart pounding with pride and happiness, when Simon scored a goal. Then glanced around, wondering if she should have pretended more disinterest. He looked so dashing and handsome on top of the muscled bay horse, who listened to his every move and galloped for the ball as if its life depended on it.

  “He’s a fine player.” The distinctive voice startled her.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” The queen must have walked right up to her while her eyes were glued on Simon and she hadn’t even noticed. Her attendants hovered at a discreet distance. “He obviously enjoys the game.”

  “Simon’s been playing polo since he was about eleven. He’d already been riding for years at that point, of course. Do you ride?”

  “No. I’ve never even sat on a horse. I suppose that seems funny when I come from Montana, but we lived in town and I never had the chance.”

  “Ah. What did you do for entertainment in Montana?”

  Ariella swallowed. This seemed dangerously personal. And she was to blame for bringing up her roots. “My dad used to take us to watch football games almost every weekend in season. And we went fishing at the lake.”

  “How nice.” She didn’t seem especially interested. And why should she be? “Do you plan to go back to Montana?”

  “I have a business in Washington, D.C., so I’m not sure if I’ll ever live in Montana again. Never say never, though.”

  “And when are you returning to Washington?” A hint of steel shimmered in her voice.

  “Tomorrow, actually.” Sadness mingled with relief. She’d have to leave Simon, but she wouldn’t be stuck trying to make small talk with a monarch. “I was here on business. Simon’s helped make it a wonderful trip.”

  She looked at the queen’s face. She couldn’t resist throwing in that last part.

  “Simon tells me you’re a party planner.” The cool blue eyes had narrowed behind her glasses.

  “Yes. I’m here to plan the Duke of Buckingham’s wedding.” She had no doubt the queen and the duke were old pals.

  “How wonderful. Everyone’s so happy to see him marrying Nicola at last. They’ve been chums almost since nursery school.”

  “I’ll make sure it’s an event to remember.”

  “I’m sure you will. Did Simon tell you he’ll be getting married soon?”

  She frowned. “What?”

  The queen smiled sweetly. “A similar situation, really. A childhood friend who we all love. Perhaps he can get some wedding ideas from you.”

  Ariella’s lung capacity seemed to shrink until she could hardly breathe. The queen was warning her off Simon. Telling her he was already spoken for and that she was not wanted on the voyage. A roar of clapping rose through the crowd and she joined in enthusiastically, though she wasn’t even sure which team had scored a goal.

  “I’m sure Simon’s wedding will be an affair to remember,” she managed at last.

  “Indeed. Do have a good trip back to the States.” The queen smiled thinly, then turned and walked slowly away.

  Ariella felt like she’d just been slapped. She’d now been warned off Simon by two members of the royal family. They must feel quite threatened by her, which wasn’t surprising given that Simon had allowed the press to get wind of their romance. Sophia Alnick was probably throwing a tantrum somewhere, too, if she was in on this whole aristocratic marriage scheme.

  Standing there with her drink, she felt like a single tree in a tempest, while well-dressed people in big hats—she was hatless—swirled around her, going about their glamorous lives. Her role was to make those lives a little more glamorous by creating extravagant events for them, not to come play their own games with them. Clearly she was losing her grip on reality lately.

  She counted the minutes until the match ended and Simon jumped down from his horse. He shared some congratulatory fist pumping with his teammates before jogging across the grass to her. “I hope everyone looked after you.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  He was even more handsome with his hair tousled and his chiseled face glowing with exertion. Shame he would never really be hers. “See? I told you they don’t bite.”

  She didn’t want to mention the tooth marks they’d left on her psyche. Not while they were still here, at least. “I’m rather exhausted by all the excitement. Would it be okay if we left?” She certainly didn’t want to find herself having to be polite to Uncle Derek, or even the queen, who’d practically shoved her toward her plane.

  “Of course.” He waved to a few people and escorted her to the car as if she really was the most important person there.

  “Don’t you need to say goodbye to the queen?” She didn’t want to be blamed for him neglecting his royal duties.

  “No worries. I’ll be seeing her tomorrow after I take you to the airport.”

  “Oh.” And why wouldn’t he? She was his grandmother, after all. She probably wanted to go over wedding venue ideas, or discuss the ring he’d soon give to Sophia. Her heart sagged like a deflated balloon.

  They talked about the game on the drive back to Whist Castle. Simon obviously loved his life here, surrounded by
people who cared about him, and the excitement of his jet-set existence. He was born for it.

  She wasn’t.

  They enjoyed a hearty dinner in the castle dining room, this time served by staff who were obviously trained to ignore the fact that he’d had a woman to stay for the weekend. They must know there was a connecting door between her room and Simon’s, and she was pretty sure they knew she and Simon had been using it. It was embarrassing having so many people know her business. They’d all be whispering about her soon as Simon’s last hurrah.

  “You seem very thoughtful tonight.” Simon spoke softly. They were still sitting at the dinner table, sipping coffee.

  “Am I? I was just thinking about the Duke of Buckingham’s wedding.” There was some truth to it. This weekend had given her insight into the British upper crust that would help with the planning. “I hope I’m not being too dull.”

  “Impossible.” His warm smile was so encouraging it almost melted her anxiety. “Let’s go relax upstairs.”

  She gulped. How could she make love to him again, knowing that his family fully intended to keep them apart? “Okay.” She’d always known this was never going to be a long-term thing. It was a crazy affair, something they’d both fallen into by accident.

  He took her hand as they climbed the stairs, and the way he glanced at her sideways and squeezed her hand gently was so sweet and romantic, it stole her breath. Why did he have to be a prince? Why couldn’t he have been a regular guy with an ordinary job and a house somewhere in the D.C. suburbs?

  “You seem…worried.” He closed the door to his room after they were both inside. The door to her own room was wide open. Apparently there was no pretense that they were sleeping apart.

  “I am.” It was hard not to be honest with him. He was such a straight shooter himself. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “Then we’ll just have to make sure not to stay apart for too long.” He gathered her in his arms and laid a warm kiss on her lips. Her anxiety started to unspool as she kissed him back.

  “Yes.” She said it but she didn’t believe it. It would be better for both of them if they kissed and wandered back to their regular lives. Less media frenzy, less royal disapproval. Less fun.

  Their kiss deepened until she had to come up for air. Simon’s hands plucked at the zipper near her waist, and soon she was shimmying out of her dress and struggling with his belt and undressing him. Even though everyone in the outside world seemed to think he’d soon be marrying Lady Sophia, right now she knew he wasn’t interested in anyone but her. Alone in this room they were two people who cared about each other. It felt so good to shrug out of the trappings of society and press her skin against his. His naked body was so sturdy and capable. She had no doubt he could leap tall buildings in a single bound if he wanted to. She felt so confident in his presence, like together they could accomplish anything. It would be hard to be back in her D.C. apartment, alone.

  Simon nibbled her jaw and neck, his breath hot and urgent. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

  So she wasn’t the only one thinking it. They slipped under the bed clothes together. “You’ll do what you did before you met me. You know, climb mountains, jump over waterfalls, that kind of thing.”

  “You’re probably right. At least until my next trip to D.C.” He maneuvered himself on top of her and his erection nudged her belly.

  She inhaled a shaky breath. “Who knows what will happen between now and then?” No doubt the royals would warn him to stay away from her. If he had any sense, he’d probably listen. She’d be busy with her own dramas—meeting her father on national television, her frantic work schedule, dodging photographers.

  “Let’s not think about the future. We don’t want to waste a single precious second of our last night together.” Arousal thickened his voice. He raised his hips and entered her.

  Desire and relief crashed through her as she felt him deep inside her. Sheer physical pleasure was a welcome change from all the thinking and plotting and scrambling she did during the day. Simon’s powerful arms felt like the safest place to be in the whole world.

  They moved together effortlessly, drawing to the brink of madness and back, as they tried to wring every last ounce of passion out of each other, only to find there was an inexhaustible well of it bubbling somewhere deep inside them.

  When her orgasm came, Ariella wanted to cry. The feelings inside her were just too much. Desire and fear and pleasure and panic and wanting to stay right here in Simon’s hot and hungry embrace until the world ended.

  Simon gripped her tight, as if he was afraid she’d drift off into the night breeze. “Oh, Ariella,” he whispered in her ear. She loved the way he said her name, with his formal sounding British accent and such conviction. She was sure no medieval knight ever serenaded his lady with such intensity.

  She simply breathed, holding tight to the precious moments where she felt at peace, before she’d be spat back out into the world and have to fend for herself.

  * * *

  In the morning an alarm sounded, reminding them both that she had a plane to catch in a little over four hours. It was odd that you could be sleeping in a royal palace, with a prince, no less, then have to battle your way into coach and cram your bags into the overhead bin and hope your neighbor didn’t drool on you while he slept.

  She wanted to laugh, but nothing seemed too funny right now.

  “Did you like my family?” Simon’s odd question came out of nowhere.

  It startled her into a fib. “They were very nice.”

  “Except Uncle Derek.” His voice sounded curious.

  “Yes, except him.”

  He sat up. “Did he say something to you?”

  She hesitated for a moment. Why hadn’t she told him about this already? She didn’t want to spoil their last night together. And she knew it would upset him. “Kind of.” Simon took her hand and peered into her face. She wanted to run from his thoughtful and caring expression, not hurt his feelings by telling him what his uncle had said to her. “I have to get ready.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Oh, nothing really.” She tried to get up, but he held her hand firm.

  “I don’t believe you. Come on, word for word or I’ll have to start in with the medieval torture techniques.” He acted like he was going to tickle her. But neither of them laughed.

  “He said you’re going to marry Sophia Alnwick soon.”

  “Which you already know is not true.”

  “And he reminded me of what happened the last time a British royal got involved with an American.”

  “You’re hardly Wallace Simpson.”

  “I told him that. Not that it matters, anyway, since we’re barely even dating. It was silly. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

  “Did anyone else say anything?”

  “Not really. Though the queen did seem fairly interested in when I was going back to the States. I suspect they’ll all be glad to see the back of me so you can go back to dating some nice, suitable English girls.” She smiled and tried to sound jokey. That was what would happen after all.

  But Simon’s face was like stone. “I’ll have a talk with them.” He frowned. “I’m sorry they made you feel uncomfortable.”

  “I was fine, really. It was fun. I’ve never been to a polo match before and I loved watching you play.”

  “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’ll sort them out.”

  “There’s no need, really!” Her voice sounded too loud. Would they tell him what they’d told her? That he’d lose Whist Castle and his charity if he dared not to toe the royal party line? “I need to get dressed and throw my stuff back in my bag. And do you have the number for a taxi?”

  “A taxi!” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. “There’s no way anyone but me is driving you to that airport. And it’ll be a miracle if I don’t make you deliberately miss your plane.”

  “Then my partner, Scarlet, will kill
me. She’s been holding down the fort by herself all week.”

  “She can’t kill you if she can’t find you.” He raised a brow and mischief twinkled in his eyes again.

  “She can send out a hit man. They’re good at tracking people. They can probably trace my cell phone.”

  “They’d have to get past the palace guards.” He kissed her face and cheeks and lips. She shivered, hot pleasure rising inside her. “It can be handy living in a fortress.”

  “I see that.” Her hands roamed over the muscle of his back. “I think I could get used to it.” It was so easy to talk to him and tease him. He never made her feel like he was a prince and she was a commoner. With him she felt they were on the same team and could take on the world together.

  The alarm sounded again. She pushed him back, very reluctantly, and leaped out of bed. “Duty calls.”

  “Being in the army I know all about that, so I suppose I’ll have to go along with it.”

  They dressed and had a quick breakfast, then Simon drove her to Heathrow. They kissed in the car where no one could see, but he insisted on walking her into the terminal. She saw a photographer’s flash out of the corner of her eye as they said a chaste goodbye.

  Move along, she wanted to say. There’s nothing to see here. She felt numb as she checked her bag and moved through customs. Would he really come to D.C. to see her? Or would the queen and Uncle Derek make him give her up and turn his attention back to his royal duties?

  Somehow she had to go from the most intense and wonderful romance of her life to…nothing. Maybe she’d never see him again except on the pages of a glossy magazine. She sank into her airplane seat feeling hollow and deflated.

  Until she checked her phone and discovered that she was about to finally meet her famous father.

  Eight

  A brief text from Liam Crowe, the head of ANS, told her the taping was scheduled for Tuesday, only two days away, and everyone at the network was scrambling to pull it together. Ariella had barely arrived home and unpacked before Francesca, Liam’s wife, came over to help her prep for the taping.