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Until James managed to get his attention by doing something beyond the pale. Like whatever had gotten the elder Rowling’s dander up this time.
His father poked the paper again. “There’s a rather risqué photo of you on the front page. Normally, I would brush it off as further proof you care nothing for propriety and only your own self-destruction. But as it’s a photo of you with your brother’s fiancée, I find it impossible to ignore.”
“What?” His brother had a fiancée? “What are you talking about?”
James shoved his father’s hand away and shifted the paper so he could see the front page. There it was, in full color. He whistled. What a gorgeous shot of Bella in his arms. Her hair all mussed and legs tangled in his. He might have to cut it out and frame it.
Wait... Bella was Will’s fiancée? This was news to James. Last he’d heard, Bella planned to see how things went before committing to marriage. Had Will even met Bella yet?
“Your timing is impeccable, as always. Now that we’re all caught up, please explain how you managed to create a scandal so quickly.” Dear old Dad crossed his arms over the paunch he liked to pretend gave him a stately demeanor, but in reality, only made him look dumpy.
Obviously they were nowhere near caught up.
“Maybe that’s Will—did you ever think of that?” James challenged mildly and went back to sipping his tea because he had a feeling he’d need the fortification.
“Your brother is with the Montoro princess as we speak and it’s their first meeting.”
Montoro princess. Really? James rolled his eyes. His father couldn’t be more pretentious if he tried. “If they hadn’t even met until today, how are they already engaged?”
Waving his hand with a snort, Patrick gave him a withering look. “Merely a formality. They will be engaged, mark my words. So as far as you’re concerned, she’s your brother’s fiancée. Will is quite determined to woo her and I’ve never seen him fail at anything he set his mind to.”
Despite what should be good news—his father had deliberately thrown the word fiancée in James’s face even though it wasn’t true—James’s gut twisted at the thought of Will and Bella together. Why, he couldn’t explain, when he’d been the one to suggest Bella should ring Will. Obviously, she’d taken his advice and rather quickly, too. He’d just run into her in town yesterday.
“Smashing. I hope they’re having a fantastic time and fall madly in love so they can give you lots of royal babies, since that’s the most important accomplishment a Rowling could hope to achieve.” The sentiment had started out sincerely but halfway through, disappointment had tilted his mood. James lived his life with few regrets but stepping aside so Will had a fair shot with Bella ranked as a decision he’d questioned more than once.
“Don’t change the subject. If you deliberately staged that picture with the princess to ruin your brother’s chances, the consequences will be dire,” his father warned.
James couldn’t quite bite back the laugh that burst out. “Oh, please, no. Perhaps you’ll disown me?”
What else could his father possibly do to him besides constantly express his displeasure in everything James did? Being signed with Real Madrid hadn’t rated a mention. Being named captain of the Alma World Cup team wasn’t worthy enough of a feat to get a comment.
Oh, but miss a goal—that had earned James an earful.
Patrick leaned forward, shoving his nose into James’s space and into his business all at the same time. “If you don’t stay away from the Montoro princess, I will personally ensure you never play football again.”
James scoffed. “You’re off your trolley. You have no power in my world.”
And neither did James, not now. It pricked at his temper that his father would choose that method to strike at him. Patrick clearly failed to comprehend his son’s life crisis if he didn’t already know that James had managed to thoroughly subvert his own career with no help from anyone.
The threat gave him a perverse desire to prove he could come back from the twin failures of a missed goal and a dropped contract. He needed to play, if for no other reason than to show everyone James Rowling couldn’t be kept down.
“Perhaps. Do you want to wager on that?”
James waved nonchalantly with one hand and clenched the other into a tight fist. What colossal nerve. A supreme act of will kept the fist in his lap, though letting it fly against the nearby wall might have ended the conversation quite effectively.
“Seems like pretty good odds to me, so don’t be surprised if I roll the dice with Bella.” He waggled his brows. “I think that picture is enough of an indicator that she fancies me, don’t you think?”
