Lucio fixed his tie and stepped up to the outside door of Amy’s brick apartment building, then rang the doorbell. Being in London and performing these normal actions reminded him of childhood. In Avce and most places he traveled, he'd have servants holding the doors open for him.

A moment later, the door buzzed and he reached out to open it with a slight smile. He hadn't done anything for himself like this in years. He slipped inside and headed up the steps to the second floor, where Amy lived.

He reached the landing and rasped his knuckles against number 207. Amy opened the door. "Come in."

Her dark blonde hair wasn’t touched up and her face was beautiful without much makeup at all. She had an air of innocence. When he married her, he’d at least feel he won a prize. She rushed backwards into her apartment and said, "I'm almost done."

Lucio nodded and followed her inside her small living area. The main room was smaller than his bedroom at home, though the dark wood floor and white walls were certainly clean and tidy. The full bookcase made him smirk—he wasn’t surprised.

The hem of Amy’s light blue dress disappeared beyond a white door partially open and he assumed it led to her bedroom. Then she came back with her wheeled bag. "Eight on the dot. I'm on time and ready."

"Let me get your bag." Lucio stepped forward. She moved to the side and let him take the handle. "You look pretty this morning."

"I was trying to look like a princess, but I didn't think a ball gown worked so early in the morning. I went for a simpler dress."

Was she joking? Her curved lips indicated that she was teasing, but he wasn’t sure. He said nothing.

Amy walked beside him until they reached her door, where she fixed her pearl necklace and turned. "Can you talk to me? I'm not sure how to communicate with brooding."

His eyes widened as she opened the door with the key in hand. "I don't brood."

"Right." She shook her head while she held her key to the lock. "And the last time you laughed was when exactly?"

"I laugh." He answered automatically but then considered his words. She closed the door behind them and locked up. Perhaps it had been at a movie? He frowned, thinking back. He wasn't sure when he’d last laughed. It wasn't a habit.

She crossed her arms. "Well, I don't see how we'll suit each other for long if we don't find a way to communicate."

"Communicate? Fine. I will brief you on my plans every day and expect you'll do the same."

She lowered her arms to her sides and went downstairs. Once they were both at the bottom, he held the front door open for her. She met his gaze with those brown eyes of hers. "Sounds like a business deal, which I guess this is, but I was hoping we could try for friendship."

He placed his hand on her back, guiding her back from the street to keep her safe. "Once we are married, you'll be my wife, not my friend."

She looked up at him while they made it to his car. "I'd rather be both. Marriage works better that way, though we have to learn to trust each other."

His chauffer took Amy’s bag from him. Lucio kept his hand on her lower back and directed her into the backseat. He followed and said, "Amy, I'm not someone who opens up all the time, but I'll try."

"Why are you so reserved?" The driver slid behind the wheel. "And don't blame it on growing up in England because that's untrue."

"Not many people are interested in the same things I am, so I’ve learned that less talking allows me to get along with more people." The driver must have heard enough because he closed the partition. Lucio glanced at Amy. "And I don't expect you to suddenly find my interests your interests. I cannot stand fake people and your interest is clearly politics."

She placed her purse at her feet, then fisted her hand on her knee. "I think we should talk without judging. I can be a good listener."

The last thing he needed was a wife who pretended to care about him. The worst type of women were like Sylvia the woman his parents had been so keen to be their future daughter, who always pretended and who carried on with her lies. At least he saw through her. He placed his hand on Amy’s closed fist. "Let's just take it day-by-day and we'll go from there."

"Okay..." She took her hand away from him. "I assume you're still reading all about quantum mechanics for fun? Honestly, that’s never been my thing anyway."

"It's conceptual," he shrugged. "Most people aren't interested." Her eyes widened slightly and he found her gaze hypnotic, her energy vibrant. He waited for her next move. "The electricity I feel near you is intriguing."

She half-smiled. "You must say that to all the girls." She dropped her hands so they rested on either side of her on the leather bench seat of the limo. "But we'll learn each other’s quirks." The driver signaled to the left, then parked. She looked over his shoulders through the tinted windows. "Why are we stopping?"

"We're getting breakfast." The driver opened his door. "I'm hungry and thought you might be too."

"I guess I can eat more than the toast I made for myself before you picked me up." He scooted out and waited for her on the sidewalk that was slightly wet from last night's rain, giving the air a clean scent.

She had wanted conversation, so while he waited for her to cross into the restaurant, he asked, "What made you change your mind? I assumed I'd have to send gifts and persuade you."

A blush appeared on her cheeks. "Gifts might have been nice," her tone hinted at a laugh. "No, I didn't speak to my parents."

A hostess escorted them between tables.

"I never said you did." They followed the hostess to a private room in the back. A round, dark wooden table had been set for breakfast with a candle in the center despite the early hour.

He held her chair for her and sat on the edge as he scooted her closer. The hostess said she’d bring back coffee then left them alone. Amy placed her napkin on her lap. "Your question was implied. While I wanted to speak to them I had to leave a message. I found out later that they are already in your country."

He took the seat opposite her. A smiling, slightly plump waitress rushed in and poured them both coffee, then hurried out. Lucio leaned forward, his elbow on the table. "So, why did you change your mind?"

"I could lose my position at Whitehall and Fisk." She picked up the goblet of water that was left for her on the table and held it tight.

Lucio thought back to their conversation the night before. He'd never threatened her career, he was certain. "That's not a reason."

"It is. My parents had connections which was how I landed the job." She put her water down and leaned forward. "While I enjoy analyzing governments and their strengths and weaknesses of the regime running the country, it has always felt temporary because they found it for me. With my sister, they were excited to be tied to a duke who also owns a large rock quarry. I wanted to avoid the "married for business" strategy, though I know my parents depend on me to help them. I guessed at some point I'd be a bargaining chip. It’s because we’re distantly related to Charles II and they’ve wanted royal relations all my life. If I say no to you I’m quite sure they will lose patience with me and I’ll be booted from the family." Her laugh held no humor. "They have the power over my employment, which leaves me with nothing."

He hadn’t intended to trap Amy. He held his tongue and ordered his breakfast the moment the waitress came in. Amy did the same. Once they were alone, he met her gaze. "So you realized all of that when sitting in your apartment, alone?"

Her cheeks blushed as she looked down. "I don't expect you to understand. I'm sure you never caved like I always do."

"No, I generally don't give in—with the exception of this law that I must marry. But I’m choosing to accept my fate so that I can stay near my family." The wait staff streamed in with breakfast plates piled with a selection of eggs, bacon, quiches and fruit. Lucio moved his seat closer to her while everything was set up. Alone again, he said softly, "Amy, when I marry it will be a full marriage. I won't bring shame to my family and seek out other women."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You want to discuss this, now?"

He adjusted his napkin on his lap. "Why not? The staff cannot hear us."

She covered her face with her hand. "Lucio, I'm not ready to have this conversation."

"I won't force you." He leaned closer. Amy's reasoning grated against his conscience. He pressed his lips together and tried to figure out how to help ease her mind about this wedding. "I'd rather you ask me to take you."

His vivid imagination brought that scenario to life. Amy lowered her hand and stared into his eyes. "I didn't think you would demand anything, but I'd rather wait until we're both comfortable... You swear you'll let me say when?"

"Comfortable?" Frowning, he repeated the word and her shoulders relaxed as if he’d offered her a reprieve. He wasn't that much of a jerk, he thought with annoyance.

"Will you wait?" Her gaze softened with hope.

He nodded and reached for her hand, smoothing his expression. "Yeah. I can wait for sex until you ask me, if that helps you adjust. I swear it." The need to argue burst in his throat, and he stopped short of taking her hand, resting it beside hers on the cloth instead. How else could she get used to him? Thinking fast he added, "However, you must stay in the same suite as me. I won't have servants talking until I fully seduce you."

She tugged on her pearl necklace like it might be too tight against her delicate throat. "Okay. I agree. We won't cause any gossip, especially since your brothers’ weddings made international news with all the danger your family was in."

He'd ensure no spies were near them and no government take-overs loomed. The people had voted to keep the royal family in power. With Amy, he could see a bright future. His heart quickened. "I won't let anyone harm you or my family, Amy."

"I believe you." She picked up her fork and knife and they finished their breakfast with small talk.

He'd keep his vow. Amy was going to be his, and he'd show her that they fit. Lucio worked better with a deadline, so he set one for himself. Two weeks was plenty to see how successful he'd be at seducing his soon-to-be wife.