Page 199 of Modern Romance September 2026 Books 5-8

“This marriage is very real, älskling, though I suppose I would have done the same thing no matter which heiress my brother chose.” His voice cold, and his words mocked her, but he smiled. “Of course, some things will be different.”

Then he flashed her a smile that was so seductively tempting and warm, and the cold from moments before turned to molten heat. This was somehow worse. He was taunting her with her own desire. Spitting her anger at him was not an actual solution to her problems, she reminded herself. Even if it felt unspeakably good, she had to channel it toward a positive outcome. Livia took a deep breath and reined her voice under control.

“Now that you have gotten all your plotting and planning out of the way, it should free up some time,” she said. “What comes next?”

Gustav’s eyes traveled over her bare shoulders like a caress. “It should leave plenty of time to enjoy my new wife.”

“And maybe dethrone your father?” she asked with an innocent smile.

The desire faded from his expression, and she got the uneasy feeling that she had hit on something. She registered that for later inspection.

“What do you think our marriage will be like?” she asked.

He tipped his head to the side a bit and studied her. Then his gaze traveled down her body, as if he were assessing a very expensive piece of art he had won at an auction. “Satisfying.”

* * *

Gustav absolutely would not feel guilty about any of his plans. Livia was not a pawn or a target. She had willingly entered into this game, as he had pointed out more than once, and he was treating her as such.

I would have done the same thing no matter which heiress my brother chose. The moment those words came out of his mouth, he realized they were a lie. The building blocks of a plan had been in place, but Livia had triggered him into action.

The possibility for a power coup had opened the year before, when his mother passed away after what had been delicately described as an unfortunate accident. The fact that it involved the stone steps at the far edges of a garden party and most of a bottle of the nation’s favorite snaps still haunted Gustav, but he had chosen to turn the powerless feeling into action.

His mother had been unreachable for years, in mind if not in body, and yet Gustav had still abided by his mother’s wishes that he honor his father. Mixed with the grief and anger over the course of her life and the tragedy of her death, in the lingering aftermath, he had found a much-needed clarity crystalize inside him: Her death absolved him from her wish. If there was an afterlife, surely she would understand his actions when the results were clear?

From that day forward, he had watched for an angle in, waiting for a weakness to appear so that he could take advantage of it. When his brother disappeared and even the royal guard was cagey about his whereabouts, Gustav’s plans had switched into high gear, and in less than a week, he had executed them.

But in the flurry of this planning, he had not prepared for what it felt like to be near Livia again. He had not considered the intensity of his attraction as he sat across from her on the quiet deck of this antique boat, watching her sip champagne as the wind blew through her hair. He had not planned for the way the simple question she had asked had rattled him.

What do you think our marriage will be like?

He had never thought about that because there was no future he could foresee them having together. The plan had always been to take a wrecking ball to all of this after the documents were signed. He should have already done that, the moment they had set off from the dock. As soon as they were safely out at sea, his plan had always been to set the next step of his public-relations war in motion. His father would have discovered from Henri Jacard that Gustav also controlled the money from this marriage. Gustav’s plan would only work if he moved quickly, while the king was still off balance from the marriage switch, before he had a chance to wage a new PR campaign.

But instead of setting these final plans into motion, he had found himself drinking champagne and thinking about a different kind of afternoon, one that involved food, conversation and a long night in bed with Livia. He would enjoy the challenge of turning her anger into a much more satisfying kind of heat, and he found himself wondering if he could take just a little more time to enjoy that heat before this whole marriage came crashing down around them.

In the larger picture, the country could not afford an extended delay—literally. He could not and would not exist in a world where his father drove Isrikesland’s finances into the ground and his brother stood by, watching. Maybe Gustav had always understood that this plan would, in the moment, feel like a sacrifice. But after so many years of sacrifices, he hadn’t foreseen how much this particular one would impact him.

He should back away, but now that Livia was right here in front of him, he wasn’t ready to go. Not yet. The idea took hold of him to extend this purgatory for a little longer. Shouldn’t he reap a few personal rewards for the sacrifice he was making? Just a taste. He could put aside the resentment that she’d been going to marry his very royal brother, just for a day.

Gustav set his glass on the table and turned to her. Her cheeks flushed, and she was so close. He fisted a hand to keep from reaching for her. From giving into the urge to take, take, take.

“I’ve waited for a long, long time for this,” he whispered.

Her eyes narrowed. “Am I now the spoils of your battle?”

His imagination did wonderfully vivid and specific things with her suggestion. “That’s a scenario I can entertain.”

These spoils, as she had called them, were right in front of him. He leaned closer, close enough to feel her breaths warm his lips. He wanted so badly to let himself go. The kiss in the church had been full of longing, but now, in the privacy of the open water, a kiss would be something entirely different. Each caress of her lips would be a place where all his frustrations and anger electrified. Each sweep of her tongue would hold want and need and the endless tension between satisfaction and longing. He wanted to carry her down the staircase and lay her on the bed and spend the rest of the day playing out the vivid images that were streaming through his mind.

“It’s our wedding day,” he said.

Her breath hitched.

“We have a royal marriage, not a real one,” she said, but her voice was huskier.

Still, she didn’t close that last distance to kiss him. She didn’t give in to this heat. How much of her resistance was still wrapped up in her aversion to royalty and power? She was undoubtedly upset by the…unorthodox path he had taken today, but the Livia he had known was drawn to anything unorthodox. Was that girl from the forest somewhere inside her?

Another possibility loomed in his mind, one that made everything inside him sour. Maybe she was holding back because of his half brother. Maybe she had even fallen in love with Edvin. Jealousy surged through Gustav, its hot, rotten core infecting every part of him.