Chapter Six #2
She sent it, then slipped her phone back in her bag, handed it to Anja, sucked in a deep breath and mentally transitioned to the queen her guests were expecting to see.
Head held high, shoulders squared, she thought of her mother, who’d performed this role so many times, her father who’d always looked on so proudly.
She remembered what it had been like, as a little girl, to come to hear these songs, the sense of wonder and mystery, the sense of occasion.
She flashed a bright smile across her face as she stepped out onto the altar.
She did not make the mistake of looking at the crowd, however.
She didn’t know where Javier was sitting and to scan the crowd would, she worried, be to look for him.
And then what? A stricken expression on her face, for the whole world to see?
She couldn’t permit that. So instead, Astrid kept her gaze focused on the enormous Christmas tree at the back of the abbey, decorated in the country’s colour scheme of gold, light blue and white.
Lights had been strung across it, glowing softly golden.
From time to time, she let her gaze flick to the front row, right hand side, but only because she knew that was where the prime minister was sitting and in him, she had safety and familiarity.
She’d never been so relieved to finish a speech, though, as she was that night.
* * *
Later, after the beautiful music had ceased and a thunderous applause almost raised the roof of the ancient abbey, Astrid was reunited with her clutch purse. She pulled her phone out quickly, heart racing as she read the response:
Would you prefer I leave?
It was frustratingly inadequate. No answer, no promise. No offer for anything more. And the second she homed in on the reason for her disappointment, she realised how huge the risk was here.
I didn’t say that.
‘Your Majesty?’
She spun around as Prime Minister Skarsgard appeared at the door, smiling softly. ‘You planned an exceptional event, as always.’
She dipped her head once, in recognition of that.
‘How did your meeting go with Javier Diamandi?’
Her pulse throbbed. ‘Fine.’ Her voice, usually so controlled, trembled. She cleared her throat.
‘Did he speak to you about the development plans?’
Her eyes widened. It had been the point of the meeting Henrik had arranged and yet they hadn’t come close to discussing anything so formal.
In the back of her mind, she was aware of his restraint in not using their connection to push his agenda.
Aware and grateful. ‘We were cut short,’ she fibbed.
‘I’m afraid we didn’t get to it. But as with all things, Prime Minister, I trust you to take care of the details.
Please, feel free to keep me up to date, as needs be. ’
His brow furrowed. ‘Royal approval would mean a lot, at the outset.’
‘Then perhaps you can bring the plans to your next palace interview?’
‘I would prefer to get this stitched up while Javier is still in the country.’
‘Do you know when he’s leaving?’ She could have kicked herself for asking. It sounded natural enough, but Astrid understood what was at the root of it. She wanted to know for personal reasons, not professional.
‘No. I’ll endeavour to speak to him this evening and get a clearer idea of his plans. But, Your Majesty, might I trouble you to do the same?’
Her stomach immediately tightened. ‘Oh,’ she murmured, with a small shake of her head. ‘I think that might complicate things, given the speculation that’s already in the papers.’
‘I can arrange a private audience,’ the prime minister pleaded. ‘If you were to remain here, I could ask him to slip back—’
‘And if we were seen?’ she said with a shake of her head, aware that here, with the world’s media in attendance, it was far too risky.
‘I’ll stay for the meeting. You needn’t be alone with him.’
Disappointment and rejection burst through her. ‘Ask him to come to the palace this evening,’ she said, her heart racing quickly at the idea. ‘He can be driven to the east gate. Anja will let him in. If he brings his plans, I’ll take a look.’
‘Perfect,’ the prime minister said with a nod. ‘Thank you, Your Majesty.’
She dipped her head once, in a silent dismissal. Then, once the prime minister had left, she turned her phone over in her hand, to read the screen.
What do you want, Astrid?
It was an excellent question. One to which she had no clear answer…
* * *
‘Your Majesty, I hope it goes without saying that if you ever wish to discuss anything, I’m here.’
Astrid glanced across at Anja, in the backseat of the limousine. She knew her expression must show surprise, but she covered it quickly enough, plastering a smile on her face instead. ‘Thank you.’
‘I know you were thinking quite seriously about marriage, only last week,’ Anja murmured.
Astrid nodded. ‘We both know it’s necessary.’
Anja was quiet.
‘You don’t agree?’
‘I can see your reasoning,’ she said, after a beat. ‘And you think Otto Diamandi is the wisest choice?’
Astrid was tempted to deny that outright. After sleeping with Javier, the thought of marrying Otto gave her a serious case of the icks. But on paper, he was probably the best candidate. ‘I don’t know,’ she said apologetically.
‘Am I mistaken in thinking something is happening between you and Javier Diamandi?’
Astrid threw her assistant a droll look. ‘You brought a skirt to his home last night, Anja. I think you know very well that something is going on.’
Anja’s cheeks flushed pink but she reached across and put a hand over Astrid’s. ‘Then why rush into marriage? Why not just enjoy your life for a little while?’
Her heart kicked up a gear at the thought of that. What it would be like to give into temptation and simply exist for a while as a normal person. To date, be dated, to dance, to kiss, to fall in lust without fear of a scandal forming?
But that was all impossible. A wish that could never be granted. She was not a normal person. She’d had proof of that every single day of her life.
‘He’s not here for long. In truth, I expected him to be gone already.’
Anja nodded. ‘But he’s not.’
‘No.’
‘In fact, he’s coming to the palace this evening.’
Astrid’s pulse lurched erratically. It was only with the greatest effort she managed not to show on her face how that affected her. ‘At the request of the prime minister,’ she reminded Anja.
‘Yes, to look at plans.’ But Anja’s lips were twitching and Astrid couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped.
‘Stop it, Anja.’
‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ she said, with no hint of stopping her smiles. ‘I’ll make sure you’re not interrupted.’
Astrid opened her mouth to inform her assistant that wouldn’t be necessary, but quickly closed it again and looked away.
Who was she kidding? Her whole body was on fire with need, with a desperate, heated passion for the man she’d made love to the night before.
He was coming to the palace and, while it might have been for a legitimate reason, Astrid was pretty sure he wouldn’t be leaving in a hurry. Not if she could help it, anyway.
* * *
He had brought his plans at the prime minister’s insistence, but they’d barely been placed on the table before Javier Diamandi had swept through Astrid’s apartment and drawn her into his arms, his mouth meshing with hers as though it had been years since they’d last kissed.
As though he’d been living and dying for her touch.
It was the lighting of a fuse neither could control.
Their hands moved manically, removing clothing, throwing items across the room with total abandon, until they were naked, sheened in perspiration, lying on her bed, limbs tangled, bodies moving in unison, just as they had the night before.
As though they were performers in a ballet that only they could hear the music for. As though they had been born for this.
Afterwards, breath burning in her lungs, Astrid could only stare at the familiar ceiling of her bedroom and wonder at how different everything looked.
How different everything felt. That terrified her though.
Javier had already begun to occupy far too many of her thought processes and become far too great a part of her life.
She could only thank the heavens that his whole life was in another country.
Unlike so many men she knew, he had no interest in becoming her king.
She pushed herself up onto one elbow and glanced across at his face. In profile, his features were stone-like, his expression inscrutable. His cheeks were flushed and his chest moved with the rise and fall of each breath. Slowly, he turned to face her and Astrid’s heart knocked hard into her ribs.
‘I didn’t expect to see you again,’ she said.
His lips compressed. ‘I had a visit from my stepmother.’
Astrid’s brows shot up but she waited for him to continue.
‘She was very angry about the coverage our dance was getting.’
‘Oh,’ Astrid’s cheeks heated a little more. ‘That’s understandable.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘They think of you as theirs, you know.’
Astrid frowned.
‘My stepmother clearly believes a marriage deal between you and Otto is imminent. She wants me out of the way.’
‘But she doesn’t know—’
‘She doesn’t know anything other than that we danced together,’ he reassured her. ‘I’ve already told you, Astrid. You can trust me. This is our private business, as far as I’m concerned.’
Did he have any idea how hard it was for her to get her head around that? Her whole life had been public for such a long time!
‘Then she can’t have been too annoyed. It was just a dance.’
One of his thick, dark brows lifted and his hand moved to her hip, running over her naked flesh until she shivered. ‘We both know it was more than that.’
She bit into her lower lip.
‘That dance was a form of foreplay. I wanted you the minute I touched you.’
She expelled a rapid, hot breath, as that knowledge, his words, wrapped around her heart and made her feel a thousand and one things. ‘This was inevitable.’