The Royal’s Pretend Wife Read Free Page B

went on to flesh it out a bit.
    When she walked towards him, she took advantage of her dark glasses to scan him carefully. Something about her startled him, but he hid it well. He was feeling cautious about her, perhaps doubting the wisdom of the entire affair. It was her job to keep him from deciding to send her home.
    Acting had always been a revelation for her. Until she started, she had never known how wonderful it was to slip into someone else's skin to be someone who didn't have her worries or her cares. They had their own worries and cares, of course, but because they weren't hers, they felt refreshing, even fun.
    She slipped into the persona of Trinity Phillips, wife of one of the most mysterious royals in Europe, and she smiled a perfect smile.
    He was a gentleman—she could tell that right away. He opened the door of his midnight blue Mercedes for her, handing her in with a courtly grace. She smiled, but she did not allow herself to look impressed. After all, she was a rich woman who knew her own worth, and who had come to expect this kind of treatment.
    Apolo got in and started the car. For a few minutes, she simply relaxed against the buttery leather seats, watching the beautiful countryside go by. She knew now that it was a waiting game, and he didn't disappoint her.
    “You aren't what I expected,” he said, his voice uncertain.
    “Oh really?” she asked lightly. “What did you expect?”
    He frowned at the road unspooling in front of them.
    “I do not know. Someone…more like an actress, maybe. Someone flighty, more eager.”
    Trinity laughed a little.
    “I got on a plane at three a.m. in Los Angeles,” she teased. “You don't think that makes me eager?”
    That won at least a small smile from him. Trinity thought that perhaps he was not a man who smiled very often.
    “I don't know,” he admitted. “But you walked off that plane, you walked towards me, and you were…”
    He broke off, and she risked guessing.
    “I was perfect?”
    He let out a long breath.
    “Yes. As if you knew what I was expecting and what I wanted to see.”
    “You can give my agent Tonya some of the credit there,” she said lightly. “I have a dossier on who you are, and I read it cover to cover.”
    He shot her a narrow look, and suddenly Trinity wondered if he knew how much work she had put in.
    “It didn't give you everything you need to know,” he said shortly. “We're meeting with a trusted therapist tomorrow who will help us build what we need to build.”
    She tilted her head, watching him through her dark glasses. Though her body was perfectly relaxed, Trinity was completely alert.
    “Is there anything about me that you would like to change?” she asked, and he narrowed his eyes.
    “Doesn't this seem a little strange to you?” he snapped. “I have essentially rented you to pretend to be my wife, the woman that I love and cherish above all others. Does it bother you to think that we are going to be molding you to create something palatable for a television audience and that won't embarrass my family?”
    Why yes, yes it does , she could have said. When you put it like that, it sounds just a bare step away from something truly unsavory.
    “You think that I'm doing all the work,” she said instead. “Are you aware that you are going to be doing the same?”
    She was gratified when Apolo looked a little startled at that.
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Well, it isn't going to work at all if I'm a loving and devoted wife, but you are bristling whenever I touch you or watching me as if you think I might steal something.”
    A slightly guilty look crossed his face as he realized he had been doing exactly that, but she continued.
    “From what Tonya told me, the therapist will be helping us get used to each other, not just having me get used to you. If you want people to believe that we care about each other, we need a flow, a kind of energy that is apparent even if you can't define it. Because of that,