Siobhan woke alone to find a breakfast tray on the bedside table, complete with toast, hash browns, fruits, and a carafe of tea. She must’ve woke from someone placing it there since everything was still hot and fresh.

There was also delicate ivory rose petals sprinkled over the sheets, spicing the air with their musky scent.

After jumping in the shower, she attired herself in one of the comfortable and practical wool dresses she had bought.

More than a little unnerved by her night of passion in Angus’s arms Siobhan managed to eat an apple and drink two cups of tea before she ensconced herself in an enormous chaise lounge facing the glass walls of the family room with a book.

But the beautiful and peaceful mountain scenery outside drew her gaze.

There’s something very peaceful about nature. A reminder that there’s something far more vast and powerful than me and my troubles.

It wasn’t that she was regretting her time with Angus. There wasn’t a woman alive who would regret being in his arms.

Still, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see him just yet.

She found it far too difficult to think clearly when he was near. An embarrassing realization, but true. And now seemed a good time to be thinking clearly.

All she’d ever asked of life was a home and a place to belong; someone to love and someone who loved her; children someday—children she would never abandon to an orphanage. She’d found all of that in Angus Augustus Braxton-Lenox, the toast of European royalty.

Her body had no complications. It wanted Angus. Wanted him with a force that was downright frightening. But her mind…ah, her mind remembered his words. He didn’t—couldn’t—love her.

He would be a good husband, a good father. And perhaps, someday she would come to like being there with him—and perhaps someday he would come to love her.

She’d planned to wrap him around her little finger; instead, he’d wrapped his arms around her. He made her nearly mindless with desire.

Allowing the silence to ease the tension that knotted her muscles Siobhan leaned her head against the cushions of her seat and heaved a deep sigh. A sudden chill in the air from the veranda warned her she was no longer alone.

“Good morning, Angel,” Angus’s deep voice sent chills of desire through her body. He looked splendid in a white turtleneck, navy jacket, and navy straight pants. He sat by her side on the chaise, pulling her onto his lap, and kissed her deeply and leisurely. “Did you sleep well?”

“Marvelously, my Dragon,” she sighed. “You?”

“With you in my arms,”—his eyes gleamed—“it was as if I was in paradise, Angel.”

Maybe he’ll come to love me. She stretched her arms over her head in satisfaction. “I missed you in bed this morning.”

“I had an early call from Ewan—my aide-de-camp,” he explained. And added, without any audible enthusiasm, “I’d like to stay here for a few more days, but I must get back to Lekten.”

Siobhan wilted a little at the thought of being alone for some time. “When are you going?”

“We.” He pulled her closer and kissed her anew. “Do you think I would leave you alone here, Lieben?”

She undulated over his hardening cock and let out a sigh of pleasure. “Do you think we have time for a quickie before we leave?”

He smirked at her, his hands already unzipping her dress. “Who said it will be a quickie?”

* * *

“A helicopter will fly us to the Lekten, where my family will be waiting to meet you.”

Prompted into a panic, Siobhan’s head shot up, tousled black curls framing her face. “And I’m going to meet your family immediately?”

Angus watched in astonishment as Siobhan leapt free of him and off the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Look at me!” She launched at him in dismay as she caught her reflection in a mirrored wardrobe. “I’m a mess. And what am I going to wear?”

“Your cases are here—”

“But I don’t know what to wear in a palace.” Siobhan studied him with fierce resentment; the casually proffered news his family would be waiting for them had taken her by surprise and she hated the feeling she was out of her depth.

Stark naked, she threw herself at one of the cases and tried to haul it off the floor.

“What are you doing?” Angus sprang up to snatch the suitcase from her and lift it up onto the sofa. “Don’t try to lift anything that heavy.”

On her knees on the carpet, she was fumbling for her keys in her new Chanel bag.

“What am I going to wear?” she gasped, rooting with desperate hands through a pile of garments in bright colors. “You didn’t tell me about an greeting party. And what about Sunny? I don’t want to leave him here alone.”

Angus pulled her from the floor into his arms and draped his robe over her shoulders, where it hung like a tent on her tiny frame.

“We went shopping,” Angus reminded her. “And we can bring Sunny along.”

“On a helicopter?”

“Is your cat opposed to flying?”

“What?” she asked, flustered. “Okay, first I need to solve this clothing problem, then I’ll deal with Sunny.”

“Just pick a dress from your new clothes. And a matching hat. It’ll be fine.”

A dress and a matching hat. He had been born to life in a palace and she was apprehensive about meeting his family and did not want to make a bad first impression. “It’s not that simple.”

In an attempt to calm her down, Angus said, “It doesn’t matter what you wear, but show me what you have in mind and I will help.”

It was her turn to look at him askance. “Really?”

“Really.” He smiled. “But whatever you wear will be fine. You’re my fiancée and you don’t have anyone to impress within our home.” Angus closed firm hands over her restless ones to force her to look up at him. “And if you have any questions or doubts, just let me know and I will ease the way for you.”

Siobhan was touched by that assurance and after a while, together they had chosen a white and red mid-length dress with a coordinating coat and a red slanted hat—fascinator—with large stylish white camellias on the left.

“Look, Angus,” she sat at the vanity table and grabbed her brush. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

She ran the brush through her hair a few times until it was shining and put the fascinator over it, trying a few looks, all the while thinking about what she was going to say. This was something she had never considered when she had semi-accepted his proposal of marriage. Angus was through and through a macho man, and his way of looking at marriage had been through the eyes of a man who could see no reason for his wife to work. Not only could he more than afford to keep her in whatever style she so desired, but that would be his right and his duty. And that would be the way things would work.

As he watched her, he could see the wheels whirling on her head. “Siobhan, just say it.”

She pinned the fascinator in place and stared at him in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she blurted, “I love what I do, Angus, and I want to keep doing it.”

What? He frowned and made a joke. “Waitressing?”

“No, you know it’s not waitressing. I only worked as a waitress to save money to one day open my own jewelry shop and try and fulfil some of my ambitions. I know that, next to yours, you probably find my ambitions a little limp, but there’s no way I am going to give up everything I’ve worked for.”

Angus frowned and eventually said, “I see no reason for my wife—erm…for you to go out to work, especially since Dr. Singh prescribed rest.”

“Not now, really, but…well, Angus, that’s a…a very Victorian point of view. This is the twenty-first century. Women go out to work. They don’t stay indoors doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry and waiting for their husbands to come through the front door at the end of the day.” She thought that Aunt Moira would have been very proud of that little speech. Of course, compared to Jaxon’s aunt, she was alarmingly old-fashioned, but Angus was an absolute dinosaur.

“I’m not asking you to do the cooking and cleaning and laundry,” he pointed out. “I have tons of employees who take care of menial things like that. You will need to oversee them and there are also other duties: charities, social events, and receiving dignitaries’ wives, and…such things. Although we’d have to ask my aide-de-camp about this.”

“And what would I do all day?” Siobhan asked, knowing she should be angry with him for his outdated attitude, but warmly aware that there was a note of possessiveness behind it that thrilled her to death.

Angus shrugged. “Whatever women who don’t go out to work do all day.”

He wouldn’t go into too many details on that one. Innes had managed to pack in a surprising amount in her days. Unlike Siobhan, she had been more than happy to ditch her job and begin the arduous marital task of running through vast sums of money, tons of employees and accompanying him as needed.

Ironically Siobhan, who didn’t come from money, was the one now insinuating that he was something from the Dark Ages because he wanted a wife at home.

“I wouldn’t know,” Siobhan told him. “I’ve never just stayed at home and done nothing.”

“Would you like to have your own jewelry shop then?” he mused. “Do you think you would be able to balance it with your estate functions?”

“Well, yes, but I wanted to be sure you knew my aspirations anyway. And you may think this is silly, but it occurs to me that if I have my own shop, I’ll need to keep it a secret who owns it and designs the pieces because I won’t want people buying my creations just because I’m the king’s wife.” She frowned at the ridiculous irony of having wanted to achieve recognition by her own merit in her chosen field, only to find herself needing anonymity as the only way to know if she was actually successful.

“So, you will marry me,” Angus exclaimed.

“I was speaking hypothetically,” she said, rolling her eyes.

Angus, having pretty much banked on having an obedient and traditional wife, looked in some consternation at the stubborn set of her mouth. She might be sweetly undemanding, but it was obvious she was capable of digging those sweetly undemanding heels in.

If she wants to play at being a jeweler, then so be it. He mentally conceded defeat in this particular area, which he had to admit, was not a particularly important area. “Aspirations noted.”

She finished applying her make-up and sighed. “This will have to do.”

“You look beautiful.”

Gazing at his chiseled, masculine face, holding a sexy smile, was a decadent pleasure, and his words were simple, but the way he said them, with his eyes gleaming so compellingly, gave her shivers.

She stood up, glanced down at herself and back up. “I’m not too small?”

He flashed her that gorgeous grin again. “I love how you are made.”

Listening to the low timbre of his voice was just as blissful. She knew she shouldn’t enjoy these things so much, and yet she couldn’t help it.

Her dress was elegant yet casual and, in a way, impressive. Before they boarded the helicopter, she studied Angus in the act of turning his handsome face up in welcome to the sun. His long hair was tied back on his neck by a leather cord in faultless order and he looked infuriatingly handsome and born to be in charge, in a navy three-piece suit, pristine white shirt, and burgundy tie.

She just hoped she was up to his immaculate appearance.

* * *

Angus was full of surprises. Siobhan wondered if they’d ever stop and if life would soon turn to some semblance of normal, as much as possible for a king. After they landed and uncrated Sunny, a golf cart transported them to a waiting carriage nearby.

Siobhan smiled, shaking her head in disbelief. Angus helped her up, then handed Sunny to her, who settled comfortably in her lap, not at all concerned with being drawn by horses.

Lekten architecture was lovely, looking like a postcard or Milka advertisement, almost too kitschy to be true.

She enjoyed the ride, but didn’t know if Angus was being romantic, or just wanted to be unusual. The horse-drawn carriage was definitely unique and a few citizens waved at her from the sides of the streets they passed by.

She was feeling relaxed and at ease until they turned on to the main boulevard populated by Lektenstaten citizens, reporters, and vendors hawking their items.

“This is…is…embarrassing,” Siobhan said from her place atop Angus’s carriage. “Are we able to be seen by a great deal of people?”

He laughed and replied, “As it is midday on a Sunday…yes. We are.”

She turned to him, loving the way he laughed. She smiled. “Do I look ridiculous?”

“You look perfect.” He took one of her gloved hands and lifted it for a kiss and the crowd nearby applauded.

He threw his head back in another laugh, but it was with a wry smile that he said, “They are probably thinking I robbed the cradle.”

“Ridiculous.” She took offense at him deriding himself. “I’m not so young and you’re not so old!”

She was completely oblivious to the several appreciative looks she drew, with her dark hair and flawless creamy skin, which contrasted with her ever so slightly awkward grace as she moved.

She gasped when she was able to distinguish Lenox Palace. Nothing in life, dreams, or fairy tales had prepared her for this.

Angus’s hand pushed her chin closed. “You are gawking.”

“You didn’t tell me you lived in a palace,” she whispered, awed at the size of the four-story high, massive building approaching them. It was wide enough to take a full block and the wide gardens which surrounded it were as impeccable as if it were spring.

The black and golden gates opened. Before the carriage passed through, Angus turned and waved to the crowd and Siobhan copied him.

The crowd cheered.

“They like you.”

She snorted, amused. “They don’t even know me.”

“But they will. And then they will love you.”

Angus alighted from the carriage, helped her down, handed Sunny to an attendant, and offered her his arm, but she couldn’t avoid craning her head, all the way back, to sneak a peek at the house she would be living in.

The enormous double doors were opened and a tall, stiff man with silver hair and a part as arrow-straight as his posture, stood sentinel to greet them.

“Your Majesty, welcome home.” Kerr bowed and smiled, with genuine warmth and pleasure at seeing his master return.

And he seemed strangely delighted to see her too.

“Thank you, Kerr. It’s good to be home. Even better now, actually. I’ve brought my fiancée with me, and her pet. Could you please take the feline to Siobhan’s rooms and have someone acquire food and water?” Turning to Siobhan, he asked, “What does Sunny eat?”

“Cat food,” she said with a straight face.

Angus laughed, and asked, “Any particular brand?”

“He loves seafood.”

“Thank you. Kerr, please have the chef prepare a plate of fresh fish for the animal.”

He looked at Siobhan to make sure there was no objection to the cat having royal treatment. When he saw her gigantic smile, he took her hand and led her into the palace.

Her expressive full mouth opened in an ‘O’ as she saw a long line of liveried servants waiting for them, and when they bowed and murmured greetings, Angus could see her getting even more surprised and a bit annoyed, too.

But that was the least of the hurdles Siobhan was about to face.

A few steps in through the very grand entrance hall hung with giant paintings and life-size pieces of marble sculpture, she was greeted by Angus’s mother, a tall, older woman with extravagant white hair and cold eyes.

Wearing a formal black suit paired with a matching long skirt and a diamond tiara over her hair, she was accompanied by two other women, dressed rather like her clones, which made Siobhan feel horrendously underdressed compared to the other women’s formal wear and glittering jewelry, versus her own appearance.

“You could have sent word you were not coming alone, Angus Augustus.”

He ignored her rude outburst—he had informed Ewan, who in turn had informed her he was bringing his fiancée—and made introductions. “My mother, Catriona Cristina Braxton-Lenox, Dowager Princess of Lektenstaten, my aunt, Princess Aileen, and my cousin, Princess Fiona,” Angus gestured to the three women and then back at Siobhan, “Siobhan Faulkner.”

Siobhan gave his mother her broadest smile, one she’d learned from Moira, Jaxon’s aunt—designed to win the crustiest of aristocrats according to Moira—and sank into what she hoped was a correct curtsy. “Enchantée.”

No one can resist French, Moira liked to say.

It seemed the Dowager Princess of Lektentaten could.

She looked down her nose at her and then up to Angus. “Well, Angus Augustus, I imagine you are very proud of the fact your guest shares your manners.”

Siobhan straightened and, willing away the embarrassment at the words, pushed her shoulders back in a stance that would have make Aunt Moira proud.

“Mother, Siobhan is not my guest. She is my fiancée,” he said icily, and tugged at Siobhan’s hand, pulling her closer to him and passing his arm possessively and protectively around her shoulders.

Catriona, Aileen, and Fiona simply stared woodenly at Siobhan.

The only thing more ominous than the Dowager Princess of Lakestentaten’s too-obvious matchmaking attempts was her silence.

Angus had enough unfortunate experiences with the woman who’d given him life to trust that taciturnity. It was as much a part of her as the perpetual scowl she wore and the coldness that spilled from her person.

As such, Angus had taken the safest—and certainly the most cowardly path—to safety: he also maintained his silence and towed Siobhan in the direction of the reception room. Alas, desperate times and all that.

But he was astonished when he strode into the crowded salon where a formal reception appeared to be in full swing. He saw faces he hadn't seen in ten or twenty years. His mother had assembled every relation they possessed right down to distant cousins to provide an intimidating line up for Siobhan.

Interfering, miserable harpy. Angus gnashed his teeth before turning to Siobhan and whispering, “I’m sorry. I had no idea she planned to invite the extended family circle.”

Viewing the packed room, Siobhan swallowed hard, but tilted her chin.

“Didn’t their mothers tell them it’s impolite to stare?” she hissed behind teeth arranged into a fixed smile.

One of those who was staring, with a phony smile of her own, was heading straight for her and Angus. She looked familiar, but Siobhan couldn’t think of where she might’ve seen her before.

“Angus, darling. How lovely to see you again,” she said, giving him air-kisses on each cheek. The woman then turned to Siobhan and feigning ignorance, said, “My dear, you seem to have forgotten the drink.”

Siobhan looked at her blankly, not comprehending.

“Aren’t you the waitress? While you fetch Angus’s drink, I’d like a Fiji on ice.”

Now she remembered. The bitch from the wedding party where she’d met Angus and was sent home early because of her.

Angus wasn’t falling for Abigail’s act, and didn’t appreciate the insult. “How strange. You must be the only person in all of Lekten who doesn’t recognize my fiancée. Did you spend the weekend in a cave?”

Siobhan resisted the temptation of a smile at her lover’s rescue.

“This? The server girl is your fiancée? Surely, you jest.” Abigail Forsythe waved her hand in front of her mouth as she executed a fake and dismissive laugh. “You’re too much, Angus.”

“And you’re not enough, Abigail. How shallow and cruel of you to insult me and my fiancée in my own home.”

Siobhan stepped up on her toes and whispered to Angus. “If this is my future home, do the same conditions apply as in the country house, as in, anything I need or want, I just have to say it?”

“Yes, of course,” he whispered back.

Siobhan looked up at the tall blonde woman and smiled as she said, “Mrs. Forsythe, you’ve embarrassed yourself, ruined your own life, and your verbal abuse reveals your petty nature and personal unhappiness. But I won’t ask you to remove yourself from my sight, as you did to me at your wedding. Instead, I’m going to allow you to stay in my home and observe how truly happy a couple can be together.” She inched closer to Angus and put her arm around him with a natural smile appearing on her face as he welcomed her moving closer to him. “You sacrificed love and happiness for status and power. I’m living proof that you could’ve had it all.”

Abigail was flustered beyond the point of being able to respond. Her face paled and her hands trembled with outrage and humiliation—and it was dispensed by a mere server girl. She couldn’t have been more mortified.

“You…bitch!” she finally said when she regained her ability to speak.

“Okay. Now I want you out of my sight.”

Angus looked over at a palace guard, made eye contact, and jerked his head toward Abigail, then looked toward a nearby set of doors.

The guard came over at once and discreetly escorted Abigail Forsythe toward an exit.

Siobhan turned to Angus and started to explain. “I’m sorry, but you don’t know what that woman—”

“Shhh. This is your house. No apology is necessary. I’m well aware of what a small-minded shrew she is. Besides, I enjoyed seeing someone finally put her in her place.”

“She belongs in a kennel. I merely exposed her to a slice of reality.”

“Probably her first time.”

“Angus?”

“Yes, Angel?”

“I’d like to invite someone to this lunch. May I?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but Jaxon is already En route, aboard one of my helicopters this time—a little surprise for him as well.”

Siobhan reached up and kissed him, delighted. “Thank you! But that’s not who I had in mind.” She reached for his hand and led him back the way they had come when they’d entered the palace.

Four guards quickly moved to accompany them as Siobhan led Angus outside where the crowd outside cheered as soon as they saw her. Siobhan scanned the smiling faces in the front row and saw a teen girl looking at her with dreams in her eyes and a smile on her face.

Siobhan turned to the nearest guard and she pointed at the girl, “Would you ask her if she’ll speak to me?”

Angus was curious, but said nothing as the guard walked the girl over to Siobhan.

“Hi. My name is Siobhan. What’s your name?”

“Elise, milady.”

“Would you do me the honor of being my guest for dinner?”

Elise was shocked with surprise, and then immediately thought of her modest farm-worker attire and looked down at her clothing in dismay and fear.

“I…I couldn’t possibly…”

“I think we can provide you with appropriate attire. Can’t we, Angus?”

“Yes, yes, of course.” No one had ever thought to do such a thing. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? The press was going to eat this up like dessert when they found out, and the people would love Siobhan even more for it.

As the three of them turned to head inside, the crowd cheered again, and Angus pulled out his phone to inform his aide of their needs.

When Elise was escorted away to acquire suitable clothing, Angus rested a hand at Siobhan’s spine and said, “Shall we get back to the introductions?” and guided her around to meet more dignitaries and VIPs inside the palace. Many of the guests spoke English, and a few had a strong enough grasp of the language for a relaxing conversation.

Siobhan realized if she intended to fit in, she needed to acquire a working knowledge of whatever language they spoke as quickly as possible.

Back inside the palace among the elite, Siobhan felt like a butterfly stabbed by a display pin, while she struggled to voice friendly words of greeting and behave as though she hadn’t just evicted an esteemed guest, and invited a commoner to take her place at the table.

“I have to learn Lektenstatenian fast,” she informed Angus in a lull between the excruciatingly polite and stuttered conversations, making him laugh again.

As his face shed all of its cool reserve, she was spellbound by the change in him and her luminous green eyes locked to him.

“We speak both French and Alemannic German,” he said.

“And I don’t speak either. Since you’re obviously not always going to be around to act as my interpreter, do you know anyone who would be willing to teach me?”

“Hmm...I’ll find someone to teach you a little Lektenstatenian.” Angus looked down at her in appreciation.

“Ahem. Your Majesty. A moment, if you please?”

Angus turned to see his aide-de-camp, Ewan Courtland, at his elbow, his carefully combed hair shining against the brightness of the lights. “Yes?”

Ewan looked at Siobhan. “Perhaps this conversation would be best served out of the public eye.”

Angus was surprised, but did not show it, his hand on Siobhan’s lower back. The mere touch of her calmed him, the drain of the party starting to wear on his nerves and his patience. A break was what he needed. “Lead the way.”

Ewan gave a little nod and soon they were in a small sitting room not far from the ballroom itself. “I wish to offer my services to your fiancée, Your Majesty.”

“Angus?” Siobhan asked.

“Siobhan, this is Ewan Courtland. He can teach you all you wish to learn about our culture. I believe it would benefit you to allow him to do so.”

“It would be an honor, Ms. Faulkner,” Ewan said as his shrewd eyes assessed Siobhan coolly. “I will only require a month—well, two, perhaps.”

Angus watched as Siobhan gave Ewan a blatant stare in return, chuckling as he caressed Siobhan’s back through her dress.

“Easy now,” he said in a low voice. “He will act as drill sergeant but he will not be out to do you any harm.”

Siobhan huffed, but didn’t say anything as Ewan told her he would meet with her in her sitting room at nine o’clock for breakfast, departing shortly afterward and leaving the door ajar.

“Will people wonder what the three of us were doing in here?”

Angus chuckled and spun her around, not caring who was watching. “I don’t share,” he growled, lowering his head until their lips brushed. “Especially not you.”

Her lips parted in anticipation but he forced himself to straighten, knowing if he started now, he would be unable to stop.

Siobhan stifled a yawn and he could see how tired she was. “I think I need a nap, if you don’t mind. I feel like my feet are dragging.”

“Go on. Get some—”

“Your Majesty,” Kerr interrupted him. “Lunch is served.”