Royally Matched (Royally Kissed #2)

Chapter 4Marco

Chapter 4

Marco

“What the heck did you do that for?” Austin demands as he wrestles his arm from my gentle but determined grip. He must have worked out the promise of free drinks was just a ruse to extract him from the clinch he had the princess in.

I’ve managed to lead him away from the stunned princess to the back of the ballroom, where some of the guests are still watching us to see what the drunk guy who jumped the proposal gun by about a hundred feet does next.

“I’m saving you from embarrassing yourself any further in front of the entire ball, mate, the King and Queen, and the princess included.”

“You’re only jealous because I got in there first with the princess and you’ve missed out,” he spits. “I came prepared. I even brought a ring.” He pats his top pocket. “Where did that dang ring get to?”

I pull it out of my own pocket and hand it to him.

“Why did you have it?”

“Let’s just say I rescued it for you.”

He harrumphs.

I think of the look on Princess Sofia’s face as she realized Austin was proposing, complete with a rock large enough to eclipse the sun. I put the chances she would have said yes at well below zero, but the last thing I want to do is further antagonize a drunk—although you might well say that ship sailed the moment I pulled him away.

“How about we get you some coffee?” I suggest, regretting the fact I managed to drag him toward the bar with the false promise of shots.

“Coffee? Are you mad?” he scoffs. “This is a ball, not ladies’ morning tea. I’m going to get myself another drink.”

“How about you take a breather? We can go outside.” I gesture at an open door, leading to a balcony overlooking the gardens. Night has fallen and several trees are lit from the ground, and a hedge, leading to a fountain, is covered in fairy lights in a latticed pattern. The overall effect is one of something out of a fairytale.

“I suppose,” he grumbles, and I lead him out onto the deserted balcony, where we both lean on the stone balustrade, looking out at the extensive gardens.

“Why did you propose?” I ask.

“She’s looking for a husband, isn’t she? I was simply saving her the trouble. Look at me, I’m the perfect man for a girl like her. I’m rich, successful, easy on the eye if I don’t say so myself. She would be lucky to have me.”

“But you don’t even know her.”

“What’s to know? She needs a husband, and I’d like to be a part of the royal family. It’s a match made in heaven.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “So romantic.”

He turns to face the palace. “I don’t take well to being knocked back, you know. I’m important. I’m powerful. She would do well to say yes to a man like me.”

I shake my head at him. “Settle down, Austin.” I too lean my back against the stone balustrade, gazing into the ballroom. It’s hard to miss the princess. She’s the only splash of color in a sea of dark suits, glowing red, the color complementing her olive skin and bright eyes.

They say red is the color of passion, and watching her right now, talking with her guests, smiling benevolently, I’m surprised to say they’re right.

Huh . I never expected to see someone like Princess Sofia as passionate.

I watch her move, so very prim and proper. But she’s not what I expected. Sure, I knew she was poised and beautiful in a highly controlled, stiff kind of way. I might have been out of the country for the past few years, but I don’t live under a rock. I’ve seen photos of her, although in person she’s more beautiful than I anticipated.

When we spoke, I noticed her dark eyes had depths to them no photograph could pick up, her elaborately arranged hair a warm chestnut brown. Her skin looks soft and smooth to the touch, her lips plump and painted an inviting red.

Not that those lips will be inviting me to kiss them. Not with all the so much more appropriate options in the room. Why would she be interested in someone like me? I’m a guy who’s spent most of his adult life traveling the globe, making enough money to move onto the next place, who only just recently worked out what he wants to do with the rest of his life.

Nope. There’s no way I’m at the top of her list.

Or even on her list.

But I will say one thing for her, she sure knows how to look at you as though you’re the only man in the room. To make you feel special, like you could be the very person she’s looking for. And, I’ll admit, I felt the familiar rush of attraction for her. She’s a gorgeous woman in her prime—even if she dresses like her mother.

But it doesn’t matter if I feel attracted to her. I’m here because Enzo asked me to be. Nothing more. The fact this beautiful princess with the soft skin and inviting lips talked to me at all is simply an added bonus. A pleasant way to pass the evening. If you can call wrestling Austin away from her mid-proposal pleasant.

I’ll file my interaction with the princess away under particularly enjoyable memories, pulling it out to tell my grandkids one day about how I once met Princess Sofia at the Husband Hunting Ball, and saved her from an embarrassing situation.

“Your Majesties, Your Royal Highnesses, ladies and gentlemen,” a booming voice begins. “Princess Sofia will now take a partner to the dance floor for the very first dance of the evening.”

There’s a ripple of applause and the music begins, something classical I don’t recognize.

“I need another drink,” Austin sneers as he staggers back toward the ballroom.

“Make it coffee,” I call out after him. He won’t be listening, and I can only hope he doesn’t drink enough to forget he’s already proposed tonight and try it again.

I catch a glimpse of the princess’s red dress as she moves between the guests. She steps onto the dance floor with one of the men in a perfectly cut dinner suit.

I blink at the unfolding scene before me. What the ? —?

That’s my brother! The very first dance of the evening and Princess Sofia chooses Enzo to dance with him?

I blow out of breath. Tonight sure has been one for the books.

Enzo’s smiling rigidly as he leads her to the dance floor, looking every inch the kind of man a princess would want to marry. Sure, they both manage to look like a couple of mannequins with zero chemistry between them, but they match, somehow, both of them formal and composed, like they’ve rehearsed this moment together—despite the fact I know they’d not met until tonight.

He takes her hand in his, placing his other hand lightly at her waist and they begin to move around the dance floor, smooth and fluid, dancing as one.

Enzo is everything I’m not. He is sensible, mature, always knowing who he is and his purpose in life. A first-born son with all the weight of expectation on his shoulders, an expectation that I have successfully dodged. He’s everything a princess like Sofia would want in a husband. He’s grounded, never impulsive. You wouldn’t find him playing table tennis against Buddhist monks in the foothills of the Himalayas before he flew to Goa to go diving with sharks. That’s my style, not his. Enzo got a good education from an Ivy League university before returning to Ledonia to follow a sensible career path.

Perhaps he will be the man she chooses, if this ball really is for husband hunting as they say. Would my brother agree to marry someone he doesn’t know, someone he doesn’t love?

As I watch them move around the dance floor, I admit she has her appeal. She’s beautiful, and I certainly saw a hint of the real Sofia beneath her carefully constructed facade earlier. Plus, she’s a member of the royal family, which, as Austin so delicately pointed out, has its appeal. I suppose Enzo could be detached about it all, practical. He could see the benefit of being a member of her family.

Me? I’d never agree to marry someone without feeling a deep, total, all-encompassing love. And yes, I know someone like Austin would say that makes me a total sap.

Good job I don’t care for his opinion on the matter.

The thing is, I believe in love. I believe in forever.

I’ve had relationships with women, brief flirtations as I’ve traveled the globe. But I’ve never felt that deep, all-consuming love, the kind that means you think about that person day and night, that you want nothing but to be with them, to see them smile, to know they feel the same way about you. A love that you would cross oceans for, climb mountains for.

That’s what I want. That’s what I need . And someday, I hope to have it.

And I’m certain you can’t get that through an arranged marriage with a princess who is determined to find a husband for no other reason than she thinks she needs one.

Marriage should be so much more than that.

As I watch them move together, she’s gazing up at him, a soft smile on her lips. An odd sensation worms its way across my chest, a sensation that feels a lot like… well, it feels a lot like jealousy.

Huh . I didn’t see that coming.

Me, jealous of Enzo because he’s dancing with the princess ?

The feeling is fleeting at best. However attracted I am to Sofia, that’s all it will ever be.

I turn to look back at the gardens, imagining what I would do if I were given free rein to bring them up to date. Gardening is much safer than feeling anything for the princess.

Safer, and definitely preferable.