“Bugger off, you. You’re no fun.” Marnie smirks at me.
“Okay, Marnie. I love you, but time to go.” I wave my hands towards the door. Trying to absorb everything that will happen in the next few months is not easing my nerves.
“Zara, for real.” Marnie grabs my hands, pulling me up and into a hug. “Everything will work out. You have more grace and poise than anyone I’ve ever met. If there’s anyone who would be a worthy Queen, it’d be you.”
The annoyance I felt just moments ago fades. “Fine. Maid of honour status reinstated.”
“Yes!” She pumps her fist. “Trust me, Zara. Things always work out the way they should. I mean, how many people can say they were talking about bedding the prince and then he just falls in their lap.”
“Pretty sure that was you saying that.” I shake my head as she makes her way to the door.
“Well, at least now we’ll know for sure.”
I let out a sigh. My patience is nonexistent right now. “Know what?”
Marnie winks as she shouts over her shoulder, “If he’s really overcompensating.”
Chapter Six
James
This is already going to be a nightmare. I’m twelve years old again, my mum setting me up on play dates. Except this time, it’s with the woman who is going to be my future bride. But not that I have any say in it. I mean, if I become the prince Mum wants me to be, she won’t make me go through with this, right? I’ll just play by their rules until I can come up with a plan to end this whole charade. Which means playing nice with Zara.
I’m meeting her at a posh club for dinner and drinks. I offered to pick her up, but she insisted on meeting me here, no doubt to cut out early if she wants. Fine by me. I can head to the club after. Shite. I’m not supposed to be doing that. I need to prove to Mum that I am fit to be King. And hopefully not be tied down to this woman. Based on her first impression, I can’t imagine she wants me.
Arriving at the club, I notice a few paparazzi lingering about. That should help get the buzz out about Zara and me being together. The more believable this is, the better.
Flashbulbs pop as I enter the dark club. Cherry wood walls make it darker. Old gas lamps on the walls give it a sexy feel. Adjusting to the change in light, I spot Zara at a cosy booth in the back. Zara, with her long brown hair, big doe eyes, and deep red lips, has an understated sexiness to her. She’s quiet but has quite a bit of cheek to her.
“Zara. Lovely to see you this evening.”
She stays where she is. “Nice to see you too.”
I unbutton my blazer and take a seat. This is going to be much harder than I thought. She fidgets in her seat. It’s clear to anyone passing by she doesn’t want to be here.
“Your Highness. It’s lovely to have you here tonight. Can I get you your usual?” our waitress asks as Zara’s eyes are perusing the menu.
“How about a bottle of the house red?” I give her a wink as she struts away, a little sway in her hips. Swinging my gaze back to Zara, I’m busted.
“I know you like your women, but if we’re to make this work, you’ll need to at least appear to be interested in only me.” She goes right back to the menu. Damn, if this woman isn’t going to keep me on my toes.
“My apologies.” The waitress chooses this moment to drop off our wine. As she pours our glasses, she bends over, trying to get me to look down her shirt. Instead, Zara’s gaze locks with mine. A smirk plays on her lips as our waitress walks away.
“Cheers.” I clink my glass with Zara’s, drinking more than is considered polite.
“So, James. Have you thought anymore about the predicament we find ourselves in?”
Zara is quite the lady. Her lips close around the glass of wine, taking a demure sip. The image of her on her knees, sucking my dick, pops into my head. Bloody hell, I need to get my head in the game. I can’t be attracted to the woman that is supposed to be my fiancée.
“Like you said, maybe if I start small, I can convince Mum that I’m fit to be King. Maybe then they’ll put an end to all of this nonsense. I mean really, an arranged marriage?” I try to keep my voice quiet, but I’m annoyed. I’ve been annoyed since the moment I left that blasted tea last week.
Zara nods along. “And how do you think they’ll take not planning a royal wedding?”
“We’ll convince them we want a long courtship and a long engagement. People do that these days, right?”
“I hate to point out the obvious, but seeing as how I’ve never been married, I can’t comment.” She smirks at me behind her wine glass.
“Otherwise you wouldn’t be here. It’s considered blasphemous if a royal marries someone who’s been divorced.”
