Read The King Takes A Bride (Royals Book 4) for Free Online Page B

men on the couches stood as the Crown Prince smiled and came around to clasp Sander's hand.
    “Your Majesty. I am sorry to hear of your recent loss,” Bashir said. “But also congratulate you on your ascension.”
    Sander shook and released Bashir's hand. “Thank you. This is my bride-to-be, Miss Chey Sinclair. Chey, his Excellency, Prince Bashir.”
    Thanks to Urmas and his foresight, Chey was able to greet the Prince in his own tongue. A tentative welcome that she hoped she didn't fumble into an insult.
    Bashir's gaze landed on her with the sharpness of a scalpel. A glint of pleasure at the use of his language crossed his distinct features. He inclined his head but did not reach out to touch her or shake her hand. “Miss Sinclair. Congratulations are in order as well for your upcoming wedding.”
    “Yes, thank you,” she said.
    “Did you have plans to see Latvala while you're here?” Sander asked, gesturing to several empty chairs. He acknowledged Bashir's attendants with a spare nod, held a chair for Chey, and sank down into one adjacent to the Prince.
    Settling into the plush chair, Bashir stretched his legs and cocked his head curiously at Sander, as if he was confused by the question. “Well...yes. I would like to see more of your country. The last time I was here, half the city was covered in snow.”
    “Yes, I remember your visit. I was away on official business on the other side of the world at the time.”
    “Indeed. Also, I think it prudent to have a dinner this evening to kick things off between myself and your brothers.” Bashir studied Sander's face with inquisitive eyes.
    “Certainly. I had planned to do that the evening of your arrival,” Sander said with easy agreement.
    “Excellent.” Bashir propped his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers against his chin. An expectant look lurked in the gaze he continued to pin on Sander.
    Chey wondered if they were missing something. Had they breached protocol? She examined everything she'd done and said since entering—which hadn't been much—and couldn't find anything offensive. A glance at Sander proved he too was curious over the glances Bashir was giving him, though he didn't make it obvious to his guest.
    “Your father is well?” Sander inquired.
    “Very well. He sends his regards and condolences,” Bashir said.
    “Please deliver my gratitude when you return. I haven't seen him in quite a few years.”
    “He has cut down his travel abroad considerably in the last decade. I believe one of his last trips was here to speak with your father.” Once more, an expectant look flickered across Bashir's features.
    “I recall,” Sander said, inclining his head. “Another situation when I was away on business.”
    “It appears you and I are both doing a lot of that lately. The travel.” Bashir made a gesture with his fingers indicating the world at large.
    “Part of the job,” Sander said.
    “Among other things.” Bashir nodded in agreement with himself. The sense that Bashir expected Sander to say something else returned.
    Just then, Urmas strode into the room and over to Sander's chair. He leaned down to whisper, straightening when he was through. Urmas gave Bashir and his men a cordial bow of his head, then departed.
    “Unfortunately, an urgent piece of business calls me away. I'm sure you and your companions would like to settle into your rooms anyway,” Sander said, rising from the seat. He extended his hand to Bashir when the Crown Prince also rose.
    Clasping hands, Bashir inclined his head. “As a man of your nature, I understand urgent business. I look forward to this evening.”
    “As I do.” Sander set a hand on the small of Chey's back once she was on her feet and escorted her from the sitting room after a round of goodbyes.
    Chey waited until they were in the hallway to say, “Was it just me, or did we miss something in there?”
    “You felt it, too?” Sander asked. “I don't know. I kept thinking he