Free Wedded for His Royal Duty by Susan Meier

wanted the servers to run to the press with stories of red-hot kisses, not two people reading their biographies.
    He had to get his head in the game. He was sharper than this.
    “Are you okay?”
    He laughed and combed his fingers through his hair. “I’m fine.”
    But they ate most of the dinner in silence because he couldn’t think of anything to say. Every time he came up with something suitable, something intimate, it wouldn’t feel like part of a ruse. It would feel real, so real, his nerves tingled with an anticipation he wasn’t allowed to feel.
    When the meal was eaten, he escorted her to the sofa, and walked to the bar. “What can I get you?”
    “Why don’t we just stick with wine?”
    “Great idea.”
    “Good.”
    She smiled the soft smile and he fought an avalanche of urges. The urge to tease her. The urge to tell her just how great she looked in yellow. The urge to make short order of her gown and slide his hands along the curve of her waist...
    But every time he decided it was okay to make an urge a reality, as part of the ruse, his stomach tumbled. Kisses that were meant to be seen by the staff weren’t supposed to have actual meaning. Even she’d believe they were fake. But he really wanted this.
    Which was wrong for so many different reasons he couldn’t even count them.
    He poured more wine and sat beside her on the sofa.
    “I don’t think it’s inappropriate for us to talk about our pasts.”
    He glanced around, saw no one was listening and said, “Except we’re getting married. We should already know each other’s pasts.”
    “Not really. It’s an arranged marriage. Besides, I once heard that the best way to get people to believe a lie is to stick with the truth as much as possible.”
    He laughed at the wonderfully naive way she said that. “Who told you that?”
    “A vet who came to the shelter. She was one of those people who talked all the time.” She laughed. “Knew a little something about everything.” She tilted her head. “Not sure why I suddenly remembered that.”
    “Because we need it?”
    “Maybe. But I think the real problem is you know a great deal about me, but I know very little about you beyond the stuff everybody sees: the fact that you date a lot, love casinos and in general goof off.”
    “Because that’s about all there is.”
    “Really? That’s it? You’ve never been in love?”
    The question hit him like a sucker punch. He should have expected it, but hadn’t, and when Nina’s face popped into his head, it threw him for a loop.
    He pulled in a quiet breath.
    She leaned in. “It would make the charade so much more believable if the staff heard you telling me the truth.”
    Realizing his reaction had given him away, he raised his gaze, met her pretty blue eyes. “Yes. I was in love. Once.”
    “What happened?”
    He said, “She left me,” because that was the easy, no-explanation-necessary way of telling the story. But when he said it, his chest tightened and his brain froze.
    “Why did she leave you?”
    He swallowed.
    Her gaze swept his face. “She must have broken your heart.”
    The vise grip on his chest tightened another notch. His brain jumped in revolt at the way he was fooling her, even though this wasn’t the first time he’d used this loophole in his explanation. He’d never really admitted the truth in his Nina story to anyone. Yet, he knew if he wasn’t totally honest, Eva’s questions would continue. The conclusions she’d draw would be wrong.
    “She died.”
    Eva pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”
    His mouth felt dry. Dusty. He took a sip of wine.
    She said, “I’m sorry,” again. “Really, we can talk about something else.”
    But he pictured Nina, always in a bikini, always on a boat or a Jet Ski or water skis.
    He swiped his hand across his mouth. “Yeah, we should probably talk about something else.”
    “Sure.”
    The room got quiet. Except for the sounds of the staff gathering dishes and