Forbidden Bastard: Opposites Attract Matchmaker Romance (Princes of Avce Book 10) Read online

  He scooted closer and for a brief second she thought he’d pull her on his lap and kiss her senseless.

  But only men in movies, proving their love to the heroine, did that.

  If not love, then sex, because the lady was a beautiful creature and irresistible.

  Charles wasn’t in love, or lust, with her…so he didn’t grab, touch, or taste her. He just barely touched her fingers as he said, “I have a business to run and don’t have time for dating--I want to be married in thirty days.”

  “Then my deal is perfect for you.” She would hopefully find him someone he’d like to lose control with as he seemed altogether too intense.

  Actually finding a guy who wanted to lose control with her would be good for her too.

  Anything other than the boring, backyard neighborhood barbecues where every week someone else she knew announced their engagement and bought their own starter homes, while she still lived in her parents' house, in the same room she’d had since birth.

  He stood and she offered to shake his hand though he said, “It sounds like a waste of time.”

  This time she ignored the desire that raced up her arm because being with Charles wasn’t ever going to happen. Business mattered more. She nodded convincingly and said, “I’ll get the women in groups according to what you're looking for, and set up casual meetings. You can pick from that selection.”

  He glanced down at her and asked, “Will you be in this costume the entire time?”

  She’d pack away her bunny outfit for another hospital visit back home in Denver. She straightened a droopy ear. “No. I’ll… be more circumspect.”

  He pivoted like he’d leave but then nodded and turned back toward her. “Tell you what--I’ll give you a forty-eight hour window where we’ll test your matchmaking skills. I’ll be attending a fundraiser for the Arabian horses care here, in Paris. My secretary will give you the address. Bring yourself and five other women.”

  Find five stunning women, strangers to her, in a foreign country. Right. This was a test, but she didn’t blink. She would have her shot to make sure she only married who she chose if she found Charles a wife. “Consider it done, Charles.”

  He headed to the door and paused at the threshold. She joined him as he said, “If you find me an alternative wife in thirty days, the contract with your parents still stands.”

  From the front desk, the thin-lipped woman's eyes widened like she'd heard their conversation and was interested.

  Maybe she'd be the first of five.

  Sandi needed to ignore how her stomach twisted at the idea of the pretty woman near Charles. “Then I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Goodbye, Miss Smith.” He headed down the hall, leaving her in his office.

  She watched until he was out of sight, then she collapsed against his desk.

  Today she'd go back to her hotel, lose the bunny outfit, and somehow find five women for Charles to choose from.

  She’d fight for her freedom. She had to.

  Chapter 2

  Charles Esposito knew a couple things in life.

  One, the bunny girl would never replace the perfect woman he’d lost.

  Another was that life never went from bad to good. It always went from one tolerable pool to another but nothing sweet ever lasted.

  And three, the princes of Avce were all fools who'd let emotions like "love" decide their future.

  Men and women had the freedom of choice and his choice was always going to see to his own happiness, first and foremost.

  Since revealing his bloodline, Charles’s bank account had grown, he was now a titled Duke del Pescatore, and his business in the shared economy where people traded "gigs" of what they were willing to do for others in his app had become more lucrative. La Belle Époque, his business, had started out as an online avenue to sell art and he named his business after a historical period, but he'd grown to accommodate whatever people wanted to offer and pay for.

  All of this had led to him having dinner with his half-sibling and the future king of Avce. He squared his shoulders as the maitre’d brought him to a private room in the candlelit restaurant.

  The future queen wasn’t there. It was just the two of them. The man less than a year his junior and with cheek bones like his own made his own heart feel even more hollow than it already was. The royal prince stood and held out his hand to shake.

  A year ago Charles never thought he’d be part of their lives. He clasped the prince's hand. “Antonio.”

  The prince motioned toward the empty chair across from him at an oval table. “It’s good of you to join me.”

  A century ago, Charles might have lost his head if he'd refused. At that time, he probably wouldn't have had DNA proof that he was related, either. He sat and said, “I’m surprised at your generosity nonetheless.”

  Antonio adjusted in his seat while a waiter served them wine and bread with olive oil and pepper. As the waiters finished up, Antonio put his water down and said, “You shouldn’t be. This is business, remember?”

  Business where they would discuss the king, the father who had abandoned him as a baby. Charles sipped his water and waited until they were alone. “I’ve never had brothers-”

  “You always had them,” Antonio interrupted and raised his eyebrow like he dared him to argue. “We just didn’t know you existed.”

  Antonio and the others had been raised in the palace, as royalty. In no way had they ever struggled.

  Ever.

  His blood pressure climbed as he remembered the nuns who'd left him for hours hooked to the coat rack when he was still too small to ever do harm. He straightened his spine. “Both of my parents decided they didn’t want to raise me.”

  The waiter brought in salads.

  Neither said anything as the food was set in front of them. For a first time, one-on-one conversation between them, the silence seemed about right. They had nothing in common really. Once the waiter left, Antonio said, “Our father says he thought you were killed during the revolution.”

  When he’d been three and the nun who'd tormented him had left him.

  An older woman at the train station during the first battle had ushered him with her, at first thinking he was her grandson. Once they were out of Avce, she'd introduced herself as Clara Belrose and she'd cared for him for the rest of his childhood.

  In fact, Clara had insisted he claim his identity to get his bank account released and access his share of the royal funds, so he had.

  Honestly, Clara Belrose was the only reason he wasn’t committing treason. Betraying his birth family could make him very wealthy.

  Clara always insisted he was better than he was.

  As of yet, he hadn't introduced Clara to anyone in Avce. Not explaining himself made everyone way more interested in him, so Charles kept his personal life extremely personal. He simply said, “That doesn’t explain my life before the revolution, when I was raised by nuns.”

  Antonio dug into his salad and ate a few bites. Charles took that as a cue and ate a little. When they'd finished, Antonio put his fork down. “You seem to have landed on your feet.”

  Now they were getting down to business. Antonio folded his hands over his plate. “Yes, I’m good at watching my own back.”

  The staff swept the plates off the table and left. Antonio leaned closer and said, “None of us want you working against the crown.”

  Yet his lineage alone was a reason people might revolt which was why every revolutionary he’d met for years had hoped to align with him in some way. Perhaps if Clara hadn’t raised him, he’d be way more bitter but she'd taught him differently. Still, silence often earned him more than conversation. He sipped his wine and waited for the servers to bring more food, then said, “I will not be seeking your future, Antonio.”

  Antonio's face turned less red but he cut his lamb and stared at him until Charles did the same. Hopefully this would end suspicion about his intentions for Avce, which were none. He followed the custom to eat what
the royals served in unison. Antonio calmed down when he saw that Charles would do as bidden. “Our kingdom has survived for two thousand years when most kingdoms disappeared in the folds of time.”

  Now came the royal decree. Everyone assumed Charles was their enemy. He straightened. “That’s longwinded. Let’s cut to the chase.”

  Antonio put his fork down and acted like this was a negotiation. “Fair enough. How much will your loyalty cost?”

  Everyone thought the worst of him, so he might as well ask for the one woman who starred in his dreams every night as the one who got away. “Sheena is not an option?”

  Antonio’s nose flared which Charles had learned was how he showed his disdain. “No," he said. "We don’t force happily married people to divorce for royal amusement.”

  Might as well remind everyone he wasn’t a good man. It was because of this that the royal bribes continued to appear in his account and he ensured Clara retired in style for taking him in. He scooted his chair back and said, “That’s too bad. She’d have made my price much smaller.”

  Antonio leaned closer and it seemed like his half-sibling gazed deep into his soul. “Yet she said you left her, and that you didn’t want her until she married someone else.”

  “She misunderstood.” He understood her perfectly.

  Sheena had married the man she'd always loved. Charles had never told her who he really was and now that she knew, she’d lined his pocket full of titles and cash.

  Embarrassment hadn't hurt either of them in the end. Charles picked up his fork, breaking tradition of waiting for Antonio. “Or she understood perfectly that you are fickle.”

  Fair. But unlike every other person in Avce he’d met, he wasn’t convinced that love was the answer to save him. In fact, it sounded rather stupid. “You don’t know me at all.”

  Antonio seemed to enjoy his lamb as he ate it all. “True. Do you realize that through you, I’m now related to my royal matchmaker?”

  Interesting. “I don’t understand.”

  Antonio dropped his napkin over his empty plate. “Your half-sisters, Cassidy and Chelsea, are well liked in Avce.”

  A sip of wine cleansed his palate. His half-sister, the royal matchmaker, had sent him an email last month. “Cassidy is known for creating a computer algorithm "guaranteed" to find love.”

  Antonio sat back in his chair. “She insists that if you marry the woman with the name she sent you that you’ll be happy and therefore not plotting against us.”

  There must be something in the water in Avce where all these grown adults talked about love like it actually cured anything.

  But his own existence meant that love often succumbed to lust and that believing in the fairy tale made no sense. His lips quirked in a smile. “Well, please tell Cassidy that I asked the woman in question to marry me an hour ago and she said no. However, she’s willing to find me a replacement bride.”

  Antonio's eyes widened in surprise, as if this was important news. Staff returned and took their plates while they sipped wine. Once the waiters left, Antonio asked, “Why did you ask her, if not for love? Was it only to receive your inheritance?”

  Marriage and good women didn’t fundamentally change a man. Except Clara, who had guided him. She wanted him to be a noble and have his share of the royal funds. “Time is running out, even with the reprieve to my next birthday to find a suitable bride.”

  To keep the titles and gifts meant he must marry. All that truly mattered was that Clara, the closest person he had to a mother, thought he was happy.

  Clara had met Sheena over a year ago, and been dismissive of her right away.

  Charles finished his wine and poured himself a second cup. “I'm following your laws. I don’t know of another way to prove I’m not a bad man out to destroy your country.”

  “Our,” Antonio corrected him.

  Charles laughed. He'd never owned anything long-term as ownership was a risk that could zero-out profits over time, and now here he was some duke no one wanted near.

  He shrugged. “That might be a stretch.”

  Antonio twisted his glass and peered at the liquid inside. “Because you don’t consider Avce home?”

  Spot on. Someone had taught the prince… his half-brother, to shoot. He widened his legs beneath the table. “I’ve never had a home to consider as anything other than a place to sleep.”

  Antonio put his glass down with a thump. “You’re complicated, Charles.”

  Usually a woman said that to him, post-coital, as she shook her head to scold but was too happy with whatever he’d done in bed to give it much heat.

  Charles folded his hands in front of him and bowed like he was just a peasant. “I’m not used to dining with royals. If I’ve offended you, please forgive me.”

  Antonio was used to being in charge and accepted Charles's apology. “Nothing to forgive. To be honest, you’ve confused me.” His phone beeped. Antonio shifted and glanced at the screen. His lips thinned as he said, “Hold on. Your half-sister is texting me back.”

  If it was Cassidy about the meeting he'd just had with Sandi Smith, then clearly everyone in Avce was deluded by the idea of love.

  He’d met the woman listed in the email and she wasn’t interested in him anymore than he was interested in her.

  So the whole matchmaker thing was just another delusion the country suffered from.

  True love was a lie.

  Having a soul mate was another lie.

  All that was real was good sex and finding a few loyal people in life who were loyal back.

  Antonio put his phone away after texting. Charles sipped his wine and said, “Interesting that your families are so close.”

  For all he knew, Antonio desired Cassidy and the texts were flirtatious. His birth mother had attracted his birth father for at least one night to create him, and perhaps this was history repeating itself.

  Attractive women slept with rich, powerful men--history hadn’t changed that cold hard fact.

  Antonio picked up his wine. “Families… no, but Cassidy proved her loyalty, and skills, when she found me my wife.” He drank.

  Maybe it was the other half-sister, Chelsea that he flirted with. She’d only married a non-titled Frenchman. “It seems your mother found my mother a husband," Charles said, "which seems almost like symmetry.”

  Antonio put his glass down as if Charles had hit on a sour note. “That’s not the story I was told," he said. "Listen, no one knows what exactly you want, and it’s my job to ensure our father is happy and stays in excellent health.”

  Yet since Charles had announced his heritage and accepted the title and cash, he’d been asked his intentions on a daily basis. No one believed him that he was trying to figure out what he wanted next, but it wasn't the throne.

  This Cassidy woman had emailed him the name of his "true love."

  Chelsea had sent multiple party invitations.

  His birth mother kept trying to explain that the nuns had lied to her, though he wasn’t sure he believed a word out of her mouth.

  The royal family seemed to "accidently" bump into him all the time as if every week it was someone’s job to report his activities to the others.

  Until becoming a duke, no one had cared about anything Charles Esposito did.

  For now he scooted his chair back and decided to use the old excuse that everyone believed anyway. “That’s just it. I don’t want anything. The woman I loved chose another.”

  Waiters returned to the room with desserts. Antonio fixed his napkin on his lap like he'd expected this answer, and Charles was not excused. Charles adjusted his seat forward as Antonio said, “The woman you left moved on and yes, married a man she loves.”

  They both picked up spoons, but Charles needed the royals to believe that he still pined for Sheena. “We’ll continue to disagree on that.”

  Antonio didn’t bite into his creamy cake but said, “You can name your price to ensure you cause our father no harm or bitterness for the rest of his
days.”

  Did the money being offered now also depend on his getting married? He refused to ask about the bribe and asked instead, “Are the king's days numbered?”

  “Thankfully not.” Antonio bit into his dessert.

  Charles did the same thing. The sweet taste made the young boy inside him who wanted to live on ice cream shout for joy.

  Part of what he’d liked about first meeting Sheena was her father’s dessert recipes she'd put together.

  Not that he would ever admit that he was once addicted to sugar… this cake would mean an extra hour at the gym tonight but it was worth It. “Then you want a tangible price for an intangible amount of time.”

  Antonio sat stiff like the chair was his throne. “We just want our father to be happy. Is that hard for you?”

  The inner boy inside him disappeared as Charles said honestly, “No one’s ever tried to pay or bribe for my own happiness. I'm just trying to understand. And all this love that you claim seems like a lie you’re telling yourself.”

  Antonio left half of his dessert on his plate, then nudged it away. “So why did this woman tell you no this afternoon?”

  Charles binged on the last bite, then shrugged. The woman with the drawn-on whiskers and white face seemed cute but he’d arranged the proposal with her parents to satisfy the Avcean interest in his love life and be done with marriage. He put his spoon down. “She values freedom I suppose. I didn’t tell her that her name was handpicked by a royal matchmaker.”

  Antonio folded his hands in front of him like he was making a deal. “Tell you what, Charles. If I paid you to be happy, and keep our father happy, I’ll need you to ensure our father hears of no scandal from you and that you won't cause him any stress in the kingdom.”

  “I don’t want more money.” And maybe to hedge his bets to secure his new title, he’d convince bunny girl to become his wife--even as Charles pretended to choose from whatever woman she brought to the fundraiser. “I’ve never tried to cause stress….”

  “But?” Antonio asked.

  His heart sped up. Probably the sugar but he tugged his ear and decided that there was no long-term harm to this plan and said, “I’ll accept that deal on one condition.”