Chapter Nine

"Get some sleep, new girl. The dates start tomorrow. I don't know if anyone gave you the schedule. Sierra must have packed hers up when she left and I didn't see the producers talking to you, so I expect you have some questions." Riley stands in the doorway dressed in silk pajamas that look every bit as stylish as her cocktail gown had. Riley is the woman who'd practically high-fived me for taking down Janice.

Who is gone. Everyone is relieved, but I'm confused.

I have so many questions. But I don't think Riley is going to be the one to answer them. Nope. That will require one royal highness of a man. "A schedule would be great. I'll ask the production assistants for one tomorrow. When is breakfast?"

"When one of our asses gets up and makes it," Riley admits. "I don't know that any of these women are big cooks, but there are a bunch of protein bars and shakes and yogurts. Our call time is ten. We're supposed to be in casual clothes or pajamas for the illusion that we've recently woken up, and then the host is going to come in and announce who's going on the group dates and who gets the king all to herself."

I sit on a single bed in a room that apparently had once been occupied by Janice and Chloe. I was sort of moved into the mansion. If one can call moving my purse up here moving in.

Patrick had told me someone would bring me my things in the morning, but as a contestant, I wasn't allowed to leave.

I am a princess in a Gilded Age castle, and it's all Luca's fault.

Luca—who had practically run after the director got his champagne shot. I'd been ready to hunt him down, but they'd moved the herd back to the mansion for sleep. Hannah had too much champagne and I'd put her to bed before realizing I had one saving grace.

A room to myself because the girl who's place I was taking had been rooming with two people Luca had cut. I'm not sure if it makes me feel lonely or if I'm enjoying the idea I don't have two roommates.

"Let me know if you need anything," Riley says. "This is my third show, so I know the ropes. I did this social media game show in England, and I was the third out in Best Home Chefs. I think that one was fixed because my duck breast was not dry. I heard you're a PA."

"I was. I think I'm probably fired now."

She smiles, her even white teeth a gorgeous contrast to her dark skin. "I doubt that. I heard the director talking things over with the producers, and they were saying people on the live stream loved you. That girl next door thing really works."

"I wasn't trying to play a part," I admit. "I was only supposed to fill in. They promised me I would be eliminated."

She nods. "Yeah, well, there's your first lesson. They lie. I think this is a fun thing to do, but I never forget that we're not human to the producers. We're a commodity. But it's not like we're angels. Half of us are actors looking for a gig, and most of the rest will end up heading to LA because this kind of attention is addictive."

It isn't to me. "Thanks for telling me. It was probably the pratfall that did it."

"You fell coming out of the carriage?" Her eyes have gone wide. "Why didn't I think of that? It's so relatable. I've got my eye on you, Ani. You're cool. Watch out for Shelby and Katy. I suspect they did something to Hannah's dress. That wasn't her original dress. She thinks it got messed up during travel, but I sense a sabotage."

"We should tell production." It's good to have something to focus on.

"So they can do what?" She's looking at me like I'm na?ve. "Give them a featured spot? Like I said, I understand things from this side of the camera. If you need anything, I'm right down the hall. I'm rooming with Hannah and Emily. I know this isn't Survivor, but you'll find we still have tribes and alliances, and a knife in the back still hurts even when it's covered in glitter. 'Night, Newbie."

She turns and walks down the hallway, closing the door behind her. I've been assured I'll likely have a roommate tomorrow, so I should enjoy tonight.

How can I enjoy anything when I have no idea what's going on?

Why did he keep me? He made it sound like he was freaking Hades, but he doesn't even start to have that bad boy vibe about him. Luca is more like Captain America, except with a British accent, and where did he get that? Ralavia is nestled in between a corner of Germany and France.

I have to find a way to talk to the man, to let him know he doesn't have to punish me.

I don't have my phone. I feel naked without my phone. I can't even call Harper and Ivy to tell them I'm trapped in our favorite mansion with nine other women, most of whom want to murder me, and I have to share the most beautiful man in the world with them.

And figure out if my director is a big old asshole. Luckily I haven't seen anything suspicious from Joe Helms yet.

Yet being the operative word.

I'm sitting up in bed wearing one of Ashley F's T-shirts and Hannah's PJ pants, watching the lights outside, when I hear a knock and a panel slides open revealing a hidden door.

So I do what comes naturally. I throw myself bodily at the intruder, ready to defend my life and honor. Though that's a ridiculous word. I wouldn't be losing my honor. However, I'm not letting it happen.

"Anika, it's me," a familiar voice says as he wraps his arms around me, holding me close. "It's just me."

I take a long breath. Just him? Luca is the bane of my existence. I know that's hyperbole, but it's late and I'm tired, and he snuck into my bedroom via the wall that is supposed to be a freaking wall and not some kind of doorway to wherever he's come from. And he's holding me like I'm precious. Like he doesn't want me to get hurt. I can smell the soap he used. I would bet he's recently showered because he smells like bergamot.

What am I doing? If I stand here another minute, I'll tilt my head up and basically beg the man to kiss me. The man? The king. He's a literal king, and this is ridiculous.

"What do you want?" I'm well aware of how bratty I sound.

"A truce?" He offers me a medium-sized paper bag.

I stare at him for a moment. There are snacks downstairs. Well, if one can call fruit a snack. There are an enormous amount of rice cakes, for some reason. Nothing in that pantry had sounded good, but I could think of one thing I wanted. "Is it a cheeseburger?"

His lips curl up in the sexiest grin. "And fries. Cheddar cheese, mustard and ketchup, no onions, double pickles."

He's my hero again. I take the bag and open it, inhaling the heavenly scent as I move over to the bed, sitting down. "Where did you come from?"

He sits on the bed across from mine. He's ditched the tux for sweatpants and a T-shirt that shows off the fact that the king likes to stay fit. "There are tunnels between here and the hotel I'm staying at across the street. They lead up to the basement of each building. I suspect it had something to do with bootlegging during Prohibition. Though I don't know why this building has so many secret doors. There are at least four. This one leads to a hidden stairwell that goes down to the basement. So I can get here without anyone seeing. I asked to make sure you were in here alone."

I have that burger halfway down my throat when it sinks in. "This was Janice and Chloe's room."

He grins. "Yes, it was. So sad I had to let them go."

Okay, maybe there's another side to this man. I'd viewed him as this wholesome hero, but there are some underworld, manipulative asshole vibes coming off him now. I wish it didn't do something for me. I should probably be in therapy. "You let them go so I would be alone in here?"

He shakes his head, and his expression changes in what I assume is an attempt to look innocent. It doesn't work. "Not at all. We didn't connect in the same way I did with… Ich kann das nichtmachen. Anika, I'm sorry about earlier. I was surprised to see you and I didn't handle it well. I'm afraid my suspicious nature took over. I thought perhaps you had tried to get an advantage on the other women."

"I didn't." What language had he just spoken? Because it was hot. I hate how hot this man is. Even at two in the morning he's gorgeous, and I'm worried I look like I survived a dumpster fire. Barely.

"I know that," he agrees. "I talked to Joseph. He cleared everything up."

That's surprising. I'd gotten the feeling he wanted to keep it a secret. "You told him we met?"

He nods. "I told him everything. He said it was one night, and we didn't know each other. It doesn't disqualify you."

That didn't explain everything. "He was supposed to tell you to cut me."

"He did," Luca replies casually. "I chose not to. The producers agree with my decision."

"Because of the live stream stuff?"

He shrugs. "Apparently we have chemistry. Joe wanted to honor his deal with you. It wasn't his fault. It was my choice. I was being selfish. Even thinking you might have manipulated our first meeting, I still wanted you here. From the moment I saw you falling out of that carriage, I knew I wouldn't cut you."

I down a couple of the fries, well aware that I'm probably not making a great impression, but I'm so hungry. "Because you wanted to punish me."

He frowns, an expression that does nothing to mar his gorgeousness. "Punish?"

"Well, you said it yourself. You called me Persephone."

That frown curls into a grin I can only describe as intimate. "I thought it apropos. This feels like hell to me, and I kidnapped a beautiful woman to make my time here less terrible."

"Most men would consider this heaven. You've got ten women vying for your attention."

His nose wrinkles as though he's smelled something noxious. "I have plenty of attention. I don't need more."

I don't understand him at all. "Then why are you here?"

"I suspect you know. Isn't that how Joe managed to convince you to do the job?" He shifts back on the bed, stretching his long legs out and leaning against the headboard. Like he's settling in for a nice long chat.

When did the room get so warm?

"He said something about tourism."

"My country took a hit a couple of years ago. We're known for our ski resorts and our casinos. Consider us a lesser-known Monaco. Ralavia was considered a playground for the wealthy. Then we had a vicious disaster." His tone is even, but there's something about it that lets me know this is hard for him.

"A flood."

"It was more than a mere flood," he corrects with a sigh. "We had torrential rains for over a week, and the dam that we depended on for most of the capital's power couldn't handle it. Apparently the department that was supposed to ensure the dam was kept up hadn't done their job. It burst without warning and killed six hundred and seventy-four people."

My heart hurts for him and his country. "That's terrible, Luca. I'm so sorry."

"We're a country of less than a hundred thousand people. In an instant we lost almost one percent of our population. Because I didn't check on things. Because I was busy helping plan a polo event."

I can hear the guilt in his voice, and it threatens to tear me up. "Luca, you're not an engineer."

His jaw goes tight. "I am, though. I'm an engineer and a doctor and a taxi driver and a croupier. I'm a mother and a father. I'm a banker and a schoolteacher. And that day I was a gravedigger, too."

I hadn't thought about how hard it was to be the king. "I understand that you feel responsibility to your people, but no one can be all things to all people. It wasn't your fault."

His head falls back, and he sighs. "My advisers would disagree."

"I don't get all the king stuff. Are you like the Brits? No one would think King Charles should have checked up on a dam."

His head shakes. "I am much more hands-on than that. I am the functional head of the country. We have a simple parliament, but they are there to advise me. I make the decisions when it comes to Ralavia. I offered democracy to the country. They voted to go on as we have. So now it is written into the constitution that they must vote to uphold the monarchy every five years."

"That seems like a generous thing to do." I don't know a lot of people in government who would give up power.

"It's the only thing to do," he insists. "I wouldn't leave my people saddled with a bad king."

Sneaky king. "So you basically manipulated them into a kind of democracy. They elect leaders to advise you, and they can kick you out if they don't like what you're doing."

"My father thought it was a ridiculous idea, but I've wanted to propose it since I was a child," he admits. "I'm worried they might do it this time, and I fear the chaos that will come. We're not in a good position financially, but there is a faction of the population who blame me for what happened, so I don't know how the vote is going to go. I have two years to turn things around."

So he's on a timeline. "And you thought a reality dating show would do it?"

His jaw tightens. "I thought a reality dating show would allow the world to see that Ralavia is coming back. We've spent years rebuilding. We've put everything we have into it. Everything I have into it."

"What does that mean? Like your own money?"

He nods. "Oh, yes. I sold most of the property the crown owns around the world. I'm obligated by the constitution to keep up the palace and certain other historical residences, but if I could sell it, I did, and I put that money into rebuilding."

"Why didn't you go to investors?" It seems like the simplest way to get what he needs. "If it's as beautiful as you say, then I'm sure there are hotel groups that would love to build there."

He dismisses the idea with a regal shake of his head. "So they can pay my people a pittance and keep the money for themselves? No. We've always kept out the big companies. We're small. If we allow them in, we'll disappear. We'll be nothing more than a part of France or Germany. We would lose our unique identity, and there have been times when that was all we had. Times like now. We rebuilt the chalets and hotels and restaurants. The bistros and cafés and resorts are ready. But tourism is still down over fifty percent. I don't have the funds to do an advertising campaign, so I thought of this."

"This was your idea?" Somehow I have a hard time believing that.

He shrugs. "Well, I tried to get film crews to come in, but there was a pandemic and then a strike. I called Joe because he'd filmed in our country a few years ago. We talked and this is what we came up with. People love shows like this. They talk about shows like this. I need them talking about Ralavia. The final episodes will be filmed there. I can show off my country, and hopefully that will bring the tourists back."

All in all, it's not a terrible plan, though I still have real problems with it. "The director seems to like you a lot."

"I like him, too. I know he's had some troubles, but don't we all go through that? Anyway, that's why I'm here. He convinced me most of the women wouldn't truly be here to find a husband. I don't like the idea of hurting them. But if fame is what they're seeking, then they'll get what they came for."

This is where he's wrong and where I have problems. "Some of them are here for you."

A brow rises over his deep brown eyes. "How? They don't know me."

"They're here for the idea of you, and I worry they'll get their hearts broken," I explain.

He seems to think this over for a moment, his eyes closing as though he's weary. "I'm sorry for that. If you'll tell me who you're worried about, I'll let them leave early."

"Wow, that feels cold. You're not going to give this thing a chance at all?" I know I'm being na?ve, but it doesn't feel fair to me.

His eyes come open, staring at me as though coming to some inner decision. "Perhaps I could be persuaded to."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Luca's gaze is laser focused on me. "It means I'll go through the whole process with an open mind as long as you go through it with me. Ani, we fit together well. Even the bloody Internet can see that. They loved you. They loved us together. I read the comments."

That's so not fair. "They let you on a computer? That's against the rules."

"The rules for you," he concedes. "Not for me. I still have a country to run. I have a unique contract with the production company. I'm allowed to make decisions others wouldn't be able to. I like you, Anika."

"You don't know me." I want to give his words back to him because I do like him. I like him way more than I should. Nothing he's said this evening has thrown me off. He cares about his people. He sacrifices for them. That's what this is. A sacrifice. He's not some young prince out to party around the world and sleep with as many women as possible. He already seems weary at the prospect.

"I know you better than any woman I've dated in the last few years," he says with a ghost of a smile. "I know that you had an imaginary friend named Daisy, and that you smile when you think about your mom's chocolate chip cookies. I know you love your friends, but you want something more. You want something more than friendship. What if I could offer you that?"

I feel my heart constrict. "Are you offering to love me, Luca?"

A hand waves off the thought. "Nothing so ordinary. That's something you should know up front. I want to be honest with you. I don't believe in the whole love thing. Not in a romantic fashion. I've always known that marriage would be a duty for me. I've never dated a woman without marriage in mind. When my parents were alive, there was a list of suitable women."

That's a kick in the gut. I've been dreaming about this man and he's on the "love is a social construct" train. So much for romance. "Well, they would be shocked at where you are now."

"Things change," Luca says. "Responsibilities change. This marriage—if there is one—will be out of duty as well."

I can't help the bitterness that wells up. He's like so many of the men I know. "So let's go over what you're offering this mystery woman. You admit you don't have the cash everyone here thinks you have. You work all the time, so she won't be getting a doting husband, and you don't believe in love."

If he's bothered by my accusations, he doesn't show it. "I have some lovely jewelry. Don't discount that. The crown jewels are spectacular. I wasn't allowed to sell those, either, so they're waiting for my wife."

I don't understand how he can be so cavalier about something as serious as a marriage. "You would truly marry one of us?"

"The wedding would take place in Ralavia at the expense of the production studio. A royal wedding would bring an enormous amount of money into the country. There are all sorts of industries associated with it that could juice the economy."

And that's the only thing that matters to Luca. "It feels cold."

He moves to the edge of the bed, leaning toward me. "Only if we make it cold. Or we could go into it knowing we're going to be good friends who have excellent sex and work together for our people. That's what I bring to this marriage, Anika. I bring a whole country who will love you, who will look up to you. I bring what I think you need. Purpose."

"I have purpose," I reply. "I'm building something of my own. A career."

"You could build a country," he offers. "You could change the lives of all my people."

I shake my head. He's got the wrong girl. "No. Whoever you end up picking could do that. You are going to dump me at the next elimination ceremony. In fact, pick me for the one-on-one date and you can dump me right there."

He groans, a frustrated sound. "Why would I do that? You're the only one I want. If it weren't for the money, I would say let's go right now. I would whisk you away to Ralavia and end this silliness."

He's forgotten some important details. "If you didn't need the money and attention from the show, you wouldn't know who I am. I wouldn't be on that list your parents left you."

"Then perhaps something good could come from this," he says quietly.

I can't believe he's serious. This has to be some sick joke. "Luca, I'm not going to be your fake fiancée."

"It doesn't have to be fake," he counters like he's being the reasonable one. "I need to get married. You'll look good at my side."

"That is not a reason to get married."

"All right." He nods and seems to switch tactics. "How about this one? I like you. I like you far more than anyone I've met in years. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I wanted to kiss you that night. I wanted to go up to your flat and spend the night with you, and we wouldn't have been playing chess."

No. We would have been all over each other because he's right about one thing. We have insane chemistry. I'd felt it that night. I feel his pull now.

But he's wrong about everything else. "I understand why you're doing this, and I even get why it makes sense for you to find someone like me and offer her a bargain. You want to make a deal with a practical, reasonable woman."

"So no one gets hurt," he agrees.

"Except I would." I have to be honest with him. It's the only thing that might save me. "I will. I guess we didn't go as deep as I thought we had because otherwise you would know that I'm a hopeless romantic. What you're offering me… It would be awful. I would fall in love with you and you would tolerate me."

He reaches out as though he wants to take my hand, but I shift away. He sighs. "Why do you say that? I told you I like you. We could have fun together, do good work together."

"It's not enough."

"It has to be."

I groan because I'm not getting through to him. "Luca, I'm not going to marry you."

He takes a long breath and then seems oddly upbeat. "We'll see about that. I've been told this is a process. A journey. I have a whole journey to convince you."

"You want me to have to watch you date nine other women, and you think that will change my mind? How many women did you kiss tonight?"

"Kiss?" He manages to make the word slightly distasteful. "I met them tonight. I wouldn't kiss them. That Janice person did have many hands. I had to be quick. I think Shelby might have tried to kiss me, but I turned away at the precise right time. Men from my country have excellent instincts about these things."

What planet is he on? It is certainly not planet reality dating show. "Luca, you have to kiss the women. Like all of them."

I have finally flummoxed the man.

"Have you ever seen a show like this?" I ask, though I'm almost certain I know the answer. "Have you watched a couple of seasons of The Bachelor? Or even something like Love is Blind?"

"No," he admits. "I don't watch shows like that. This seemed simpler on paper. It's more difficult now that I'm here. I'll be honest, I didn't like how some of the women looked at me. Like they could eat me alive. It was disconcerting."

"Welcome to womanhood."

"But it doesn't matter because now I have you. I should think about the kissing thing. There's got to be a way around it. It's not seemly for the king to kiss multiple women. I'll make a law," he assures me. "So there. Problem solved. You won't have to watch me kiss anyone at all."

I feel like a cage door is starting to swing closed, and if I don't get out, something terrible will happen. "Come on, Luca. You have to honor my wishes. You have to let me go. I have a job to do."

"From what I can tell no one treats the production assistants well." He seems to be mulling the problem over in his head, and I don't think I'll like what he comes up with. "You'll have more fun this way." His expression turns serious. "I can't make you say yes to me in the final ceremony, but I can make it difficult for you to not give us a chance. How about we make a deal. One chance to get out of my web. If you can honestly say you're not interested in me after I do one thing, I'll cut you tomorrow."

Oh, I can say some words. I'm not interested. I can absolutely say those words. I don't have to mean them. "Do your worst, Your Majesty."

He shakes his head. "Luca. The rest of them can call me Reg or Your Majesty. I'm Luca to you. Reg is a king. Luca is just a man."

He reaches out and takes my hand. Without thinking about it, I respond by rising gracefully. Well, rising. I nearly dump the bag of food all over my bed.

"What are you doing?" I have to tilt my head back because he's so tall and so very close. His body brushes against mine, and there's that insane chemistry I wish I had with someone who didn't have a whole country depending on him.

"Showing you how it can be," he whispers before he leans over and his lips find mine.

I want to stand there, to be utterly unmoved. It's a kiss. I've been kissed before. It's lips on lips, with maybe a little tongue somewhere in there. When you think about it, it's kind of gross. Except I feel sparks. They shoot along my skin in the sweetest way as his hands find the back of my neck and he cradles my face. Warmth shoots through me, and I swear I can feel my uterus contract when his tongue drags over my bottom lip.

I have no idea how long we stand there, his mouth on mine, my hands wrapping around his body so I can get as close to him as possible. The world seems endless in that moment, and I want to do nothing more than stay here with him.

He pulls away, and there's a light in his eyes as he looks down at me. "And that is why I won't let you go." He steps away and moves toward the slightly open hidden door. "I don't suppose you want me to stay with you tonight. Like I said, I don't need some process to tell me what I already know. But we will have to pretend for the cameras."

Pretend like we're falling in love. The problem is I wouldn't be pretending. "Cut me tomorrow. Please, Luca."

A forlorn look crosses his face. "That I can't do, Schatz. In this I will be selfish. One thing I will be selfish about."

"I thought you were a nice guy."

"I'm a king. I can't afford to be nice."

"What did that mean? That thing you called me?"

"Schatz? It's German," he explains. "We speak English and German in Ralavia. It means treasure. Good night, Anika. I will see you in the morning."

He disappears behind the wall, and I'm alone.

God, he's going to break my heart.