Rivals at the Royal Altar

Agnesse was completely unprepared for what Seb did next. He shifted his grip, tipped her backward in his arms and, before she could stop him, fastened his mouth over hers. Too stunned to respond, she let him kiss her. His lips seeking what they wanted, his tongue taking shocking liberties. He tasted of things she could hardly name but wanted more of. Passion, she thought dimly. A masculine feast. Soft lips but a body that was hard and hot. She would’ve been breathless if she could breathe at all. His arms around her, so strong, made her feel safe and protected. Her hand slid along his shoulder to curl about his neck. She arched her hips to press closer to his, reveling in the feeling of being weightless, of being held so securely in his arms. Then suddenly his mouth was gone. Her eyes fluttered open; her gaze refocused to clash with his. Whatever she saw there was unreadable. Dark and forbidding. “Now, I think we are even,” he said. JULIEANNE HOWELLS loves the romance of a stormy day, which is just as well because she lives in rainy North East England. On inclement days, if she’s not writing and reading, she has a fondness for cooking. Sometimes her efforts are even edible. She compensates for her lack of domestic skills by being an expert daydreamer, always imagining ways for plucky heroines to upend the world of handsome, provoking heroes. For Julieanne, writing for Harlequin is just about the perfect job. Rivals at the Royal Altar Julieanne Howells www.millsandboon.co.uk For Denley, Moira and Richard. I can’t begin to express how much your help and support has meant to me. You deserve the very best of all good things. Love you loads xxx Contents Cover About the Author Booklist Title Page Copyright Note to Readers Introduction Dedication CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN EPILOGUE Extract Extract1 About the Publisher CHAPTER ONE ‘NO, NO, AND NO!’ Her Majesty, Queen Agnesse of Ellamaa, was not amused. It was not only that her perfectly ordered plans were being rearranged at the last minute. But worse, so much worse, her secretary had announced that her co-host for tomorrow’s charity gala had been replaced. The Crown Prince of Grimentz was unable to attend and in his stead he was sending his cousin, Prince Sebastien: not just Europe’s most notorious royal playboy, but also a man with whom Agnesse had a brief but unfortunate history. ‘He’ll make a handsome escort,’ Keert suggested. Stunning green eyes and a mouth that promised all sorts of wickedness came to mind, but Agnesse would not be swayed by his dazzling looks. ‘I am not having that Lothario within ten miles of me. And have you forgotten he broke my sister’s heart?’ ‘That was more than five years ago, ma’am, and wasn’t it merely a youthful infatuation? Princess Isobel was only sixteen.’ ‘Exactly. She was a baby.’ Her secretary tried again. ‘All you’ll have to do is sit at dinner with him and make polite conversation.’ ‘Make conversation with that...that reprobate?’ Her voice rose to an unregal screech. Had her mother been present, Agnesse would have been instantly on the sharp end of a withering glare. ‘Come now, ma’am. Is that not a little harsh?’ ‘Harsh? He has the morals of an alley cat.’ Agnesse began pacing. The mere mention of Prince Sebastien von Frohburg was enough to make any woman pace. ‘And he broke Isobel’s heart.’ ‘Yes, ma’am, you said.’ ‘My innocent baby sister.’ Keert’s eyebrows rose. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. Her middle sibling had always been a little wild, the bane of her parents’ lives, and now at twenty-one, had developed into something of a man-eater. But maybe the actions of Sebastien von Frohburg had started her along that path. ‘Perhaps we can allow he has changed in the interim, ma’am.’ Agnesse halted by her desk and twitched angrily at the positions of her pen and diary until they sat precisely side by side again. ‘Five years is nothing to a man like that,’ she muttered. And no time at all for him to forgive what she’d done in revenge. Agnesse could feel no pride for what she’d done back then. In fact, she was thoroughly ashamed. It had been her lowest moment. But for some reason the prince brought out an impulsive side of her that no one else ever had. He’d made her see red by callously brushing aside the tender feelings of a love-struck teenager, when he could have stirred himself to be kind and let her down gently instead. Agnesse had absolutely no desire to face him again. Then she brightened. ‘Couldn’t Carl do it?’ Her nineteen-year-old brother had stepped in before as her escort during this period of official mourning for their late father. ‘It’s a joint event for Ellamaa and Grimentz, ma’am. A representative from the principality needs to attend, and Prince Sebastien would be a natural choice.’ Of course, she knew Keert was right, as the event supported a charity jointly set up by her father and the crown prince, Leo. Despite having a twenty-year age difference between them, and their respective countries being hundreds of miles apart, after meeting at a European summit the two men had become friends. They’d discovered a shared interest in supporting youth work and established a charity which, over the past few years, had helped thousands of disadvantaged youngsters across Europe. Agnesse doubted that Prince Sebastien was equally altruistic. He offended every value she stood for: decency, constancy, service. And except pursue his own gratification, what did he even do all day? He’d sometimes be seen at public occasions, lurking at the side of his cousin, or as in the case of the upcoming gala, standing in for him at social events, but really, what else was there? It was too much that Leo’s