The Princess and the Player - Kat Cantrell

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she’d demanded he do so. There was no way she was getting on a plane to meet someone blind.

      “I’m sensing there’s more to the story.” His raised eyebrows encouraged her to elaborate.

      “Wouldn’t you wonder about the appearance of a person your father wanted you to marry? I sure did.”

      Surprise flew across James’s face. “Your father wants you to marry Will? Does Will know about this?”

      “Of course he does. Your father was the instigator, actually. You didn’t know our fathers cooked up this idea of an arranged marriage?”

      His laugh was far more derisive this time. “The elder Rowling doesn’t share much of what goes on his head. But somehow it doesn’t shock me to discover dear old Dad wants his son married to a member of the royal family. Did you agree?”

      “No! Well, not yet anyway. I only agreed to meet Will and see what happened. I’m not really in the market for a steady relationship, let alone one as permanent as marriage.”

      Groaning, she bit her lip. Too late to take that back, though it had been the God-honest truth. Regardless, spilling her guts to the brother of her potential fiancé wasn’t the best plan. James would probably run off and tell Will his future bride had felt up his brother on the beach— totally not her fault!—flirted with him—maybe partially her fault—and then declared marriage to be worse than the plague.

      Instead of falling to his knees in shock, James winked and dang, even that was sexy.

      “Woman after my own heart. If you don’t want to get married, why even agree to meet Will?”

      Why was she still standing here talking to the wrong brother? She should go. There was nothing for her here. But she couldn’t make herself walk away from the spark still kicking between them.

      “It’s complicated,” she hedged.

      She sighed and glanced over her shoulder, but there was no one in earshot. She didn’t want to draw the attention of a camera lens, but surely it couldn’t hurt to spend a few minutes chatting with the man who might become her brother-in-law...so she could keep reminding herself that’s who he was to her. If nothing else, she could set the record straight in case he intended to repeat this conversation verbatim to his brother.

      “I’m the king of uncomplicating things,” James said with another laugh that curled her toes deeper into the sand. “Try me.”

      It wasn’t as if anyone was expecting her back at the gargantuan house perched on the cliff behind them. Gabriel was never home and her father... Well, she wasn’t dying to run into him again.

      She shrugged. “We’re all new at this royalty thing. I don’t want to be the one to mess it up. What if I don’t try with Will and it has horrible repercussions for my brother Gabriel? I can’t be responsible for that.”

      “But if you meet Will and you don’t like him, how is that different than not meeting him in the first place? Either way, you don’t end up with him and the repercussions will be the same.”

      How come she’d never thought of that? “That’s a good point.”

      “Told you. I can uncomplicate anything. It’s a skill.” James’s smile widened as he swept her with an impossible to misinterpret look. “I just figure out what I want to do and justify it. Like...if I wanted to kiss you, I’d find a way.”

      As his gaze rested on her lips, heat flooded her cheeks. And other places. She could practically feel the weight of his kiss against her mouth and he hadn’t even moved. A pang of lust zinged through her abdomen and she nearly gasped at the strength of it. What was it about him that lit her up so fiercely?

      “You shouldn’t be talking about kissing.” She inwardly cursed. That should have come out much more sternly, instead of breathy with anticipation. “Flirting as a whole is completely off-limits.”

      A hint of challenge crept into his expression and then he leaned in, stopping just short of touching her earlobe with his mouth. “Says who?”

      “Me,” she murmured as the scent of male and heat coiled up low in her belly, nearly making her weep with want. “I’m weak and liable to give in. You have to be the strong one and stop presenting me with so much temptation.”

      He laughed softly. “I’m afraid you’re in a lot of trouble, then.”

      “Why?”

      “Because I have absolutely no reservations about giving in to temptation.”

      The wicked smile spreading across his face sealed it—she was in a lot of trouble. She was supposed to marry his brother. And the last thing she needed was to set herself up for a repeat of the Drew Debacle, where she accidentally broke James’s heart because she ended up with Will. Better all around to stay away from James.

      Why did the wrong Rowling have to be so alluring and so delicious?

      Maybe she could find Will similarly attractive if she just gave him a chance.

      “I’ll keep that in mind.” All right, then. She was going to have to be the one to step away. Noted.

       So step away. Right now.

      Through a supreme act of will, she somehow did. James’s gorgeous aqua eyes tracked her movement as she put one foot, then two between them. He nodded once, apparently in understanding but definitely not in agreement.

      “See you around, Princess.”

      He stood there, one hip cocked in a casual stance that screamed Bad Boy, and she half waved before she turned and fled.

      As she climbed the stairs to the house, she resisted looking over her shoulder to see if she could pick out James’s yellow T-shirt amidst the other sun worshippers lounging on the white sand. He wasn’t for her and there was no getting around the fact that she wished otherwise.

      James Rowling was forbidden. And that might be his most attractive quality.

      * * *

      Bella entered the Playa Del Onda house through the kitchen, and snagged a glass-bottled cola from the refrigerator and a piece of crusty bread from the pantry. Both the colas and the bread tasted different in Europe but she didn’t mind. All part of the adventure.

      Thoughts still on the sexy man she’d abandoned on the beach, Bella munched on the bread as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. She almost made it before a dark shadow alerted her to the fact that her least favorite person in the house had found her.

      “Isabella.” Her father’s sharp voice stopped her dead, four steps from the landing on the second floor.

      “Yeah, Dad?” She didn’t turn around. If you didn’t stare him in the eye, he couldn’t turn you to stone, right?

      “Is that how you dress to go out?”

      “Only when I go to the beach,” she retorted. “Is there something new you’d like to discuss or shall we rehash the same subject from last night? You didn’t like that outfit either, if I recall.”

      Ever since Adela, Bella’s mother, had left, this is how it went. Her father only spoke to her when he wanted to tell her how to run her life. And she pretended to listen. Occasionally, when it suited her, she went along, but only if she got something out of it.

      “We’ll rehash it as many times as it takes to get it through your scattered brain. Gabriel is going to be king.” Rafael stressed the word as if she might be confused about what was happening around her. “The least you can do is help smooth his ascension with a little common sense about how you dress. The Montoros have no credibility yet, especially not with that stunt your brother pulled.”

      “Rafe fell in love,” she shot back and bit her tongue.

      Old news. Her father cared nothing for love, only propriety. And horror of all horrors—his eldest son had gotten a bartender

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