“I beg your pardon. I meant no affront.” He lifts a hand. “It’s just that my partners and I would like to see someone new in charge of Androvia, someone like yourself. Someone young and with vision. Someone amenable to change.”
“Talk of a coup is treason. I have many faults, but disloyalty has never been one of them.” As much as I dislike my father, I have no plans to overthrow his claim to the throne. Not when I can achieve the same result through patience and proper planning. “If I were you, I’d choose my next words very carefully.”
“I know this is a hard conversation, but you need to be ready. These people have made your father a wealthy man. They can do the same for you.”
My net worth is triple that of my father’s. I can afford to be self-righteous. Unlike King Gustav, money matters less to me than the good fortunes of the people in my kingdom. “I’m not interested.”
“Don’t be a fool, Your Highness.”
“That’s the last time you’ll insult me.” The muscles in my jaw tense until they ache. “In my opinion, you’re the reason my country is in such a mess.”
“What did I miss?” Nicky returns, sliding into his chair.
“Veiled threats. Subterfuge. All served with a healthy dose of treason,” I reply.
“Sounds fascinating.” Nicky waggles his eyebrows. “Count me in.”
The waiter approaches to take our orders. My appetite has evaporated, along with my patience. While Don and Nick recite their choices off the menu, I watch Everly’s face. Her gaze meets mine, flicks away, then returns. A pleasant tickle teases my lower belly. She bites her lower lip with even white teeth. The corners of her mouth curl upward. A dozen yards separate us, but for the space of a heartbeat, we’re the only ones in the room.
Nicky keeps his gaze trained on my face. Curiosity flashes across his expression. “Catch me up.”
“I was just trying to persuade Prince Henry to consider the advantages of my counsel.” Arrogance oozes from Don. He’s so smug, so damn self-righteous. My dislike for him grows with each passing second.
“And how did he take the offer?” Nicky lifts an eyebrow.
“He thinks both of you should fuck off.” My blood pressure climbs until it sings through my ears. Stay calm, Henry. I toss my napkin onto the table.
“You’re a cocky bastard.” Don’s lips flatten into a sneer. So much for the venerated humanitarian and hero. “That’s dangerous talk.”
I lower my voice, forcing a neutral expression. “Like you, I have many powerful friends. And I can guarantee they don’t give two fucks about you or your agenda.”
“Whoa. Gentlemen.” Nicky raises both palms into the air. “I leave you alone for a minute, and you’re ready to declare war against each other.”
“Whatever it takes,” Don says.
“You’re messing with the wrong man.” I signal to the waiter for the check. I’m done. “I’m not my father. You can’t buy me.”
“Every man has his price.”
“Not me,” I reply.
Across the room, Rourke Menshikov leaves the restaurant. Everly sits alone. Seconds later, she heads in the direction of the ladies’ room. Don follows her.
“You set me up.” I turn to Nicky, my temper barely restrained.
He shrugs and dabs the corners of his lips with his napkin. “It was necessary. Roman needed to distract Don for a few hours, and this was the only way I could get him away from his office.”
“You could’ve just told me.”
“Maybe. But this was so much more fun.”
I leave Nicky alone at the table and head for the door. Fuck him. Fuck McElroy. No one threatens my country and gets away with it. As I stride across the dining room, Everly barrels through the exit door. I follow on her heels. Don McElroy needs a reality check, and I know just how to get his attention.
11
EVERLY
* * *
Inside the restaurant bathroom, I brace my hands against the sink. I’m not sure where the conversation with Rourke turned sour, but it did—in a big way. She raced out of the building, leaving me stunned and hurt. The bathroom attendant lowers her eyes when my gaze meets hers in the mirror. I can’t blame Rourke for being upset. She’s newly pregnant, and Roman is the lead suspect in Lavender Cunningham’s murder. I should have told her about my father’s affair with the party planner, but I couldn’t bring myself to betray the most important man in my life. Airing the McElroy family dirty laundry would only complicate the situation. To calm my racing heart, I switch on the tap. The water flows over my wrists, chilling my hot skin. Rourke, my father, Nicky, Prince Heinrich—they’re the stars in my living nightmare. One I’m eager to escape.
New-age music pipes into the elegant restroom through hidden speakers. The flute and piano duet screeches in my head like nails on a chalkboard. The walls close in around me. I grab my purse and dash out the door. In the narrow corridor, two strong hands clamp around my upper arms.
“One minute, young lady.” Father’s authoritative voice brings my feet to a halt.
“I need to go.” My struggles against his vise grip are useless.
“Not so fast.” He hauls me into the empty private dining room to my left. “What happened out there? Rourke seemed upset. Is everything okay?”
“No.” The coldness in his eyes strikes fear into my heart. “Roman’s a lead suspect in Lavender’s murder. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? I mean, you were the last person with her that night.” My insides begin to quake. I’ve never been afraid of him before, but now, I don’t like the cruel line of his mouth or his bruising grip on my flesh. “Have you spoken with the authorities yet?”
“I told you to forget about that. I don’t know anything about Lavender’s death. You didn’t say anything, did you?” To emphasize the urgency of the matter, he shakes me hard enough to rattle my earrings.
“Let go.” His fingertips bite into my bicep. “No. I didn’t say anything.”
“Are you lying?” The cruel face in front of me is unrecognizable. This man isn’t my father. This man is a stranger.
“Why are you acting like this? Stop. You’re hurting me.” My voice is shaky but convincing. The pinch of his fingers eases from my arm.
“If you know anything, anything at all, I need you to tell me, Everly. It’s important.” His face looms above mine.
“The police searched their penthouse for evidence. They’re going to indict Roman.”
“Is that right?” He rubs the back of his neck.
“What do you know, Daddy? I can’t help if I don’t know the whole story.”
His gaze searches my face. I rearrange my expression into one of sympathy. Inside, I’m quaking. His response could alter the trajectory of a dozen lives. “Lavender became a liability. She knew too much and threatened to talk. No one jeopardizes my position. No one. Not her. Not you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes.” His threat reverberates through my body and into my toes. My heart races. I’ve got to get out of here. I have to tell Rourke.
“Because I’d hate for you to get involved in something you know nothing about.”
“No. I won’t.” I shake my head, easing away from him, creeping back toward the door. A waiter glances into the room, drawn by our raised voices. Father steps away from me and runs a hand through his hair. I seize the opportunity to escape, jogging down the hall toward the exit as fast as my high heels will allow.
On the sidewalk in front of the restaurant, I dig out my phone and call Rourke. An electronic voice answers. “I’m sorry. The number you are calling is no longer in service. Please check the number and try again.” After a groan, I toss my phone into my purse.
Traffic clogs the street. Not a taxi in sight. At this rate, I’ll be here forever. I dig out my phone again. Tears of frustration blur the screen. I draw in a steadying breath. My love for my best friend overrides loyalty to my father. I need to tell Rourke about Father’s affair. He’s going to be so
angry with me, but Rourke deserves to know the truth. If Roman is found guilty, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I try her office, her home, and her cell. No luck. As a last resort, I type out an email to her personal address. Call me. ASAP. Important. Until she contacts me, all I can do is wait.
When I glance up from my phone, Prince Henry is striding through the revolving door. He’s coming straight at me. In the open air, his hair is blonder, his eyes brighter. My heart does a double flip at the way his gaze locks onto mine and stays there.
* * *
HENRY
* * *
Outside the restaurant, the sunshine is bright and hot, shimmering over the sidewalk. The street sounds assault my ears—a jackhammer from nearby road construction, honking car horns, a siren, various shouts, and whistles. The cacophony recedes at the sight of Everly. She hovers on the sidewalk, rummaging through her purse with the frustrated, jerky movements of a woman in distress.
I touch her elbow. “Excuse me. Is everything okay?” My security team closes around us, shielding us from curious onlookers.
“I’m fine.” After more rummaging, she finds a tissue and swipes at her nose. Her red-rimmed eyes find mine. Electricity jolts through my body at the collision of our gazes.
“No. You’re not.” I touch her elbow again, this time letting my fingers wrap gently around her warm skin, ignoring the buzz of attraction skating up my arm. “I can see you’re upset. I’ll take you home.”
“No. It’s not necessary.” She waves at an approaching taxi. “I’m not upset. I’m angry. I always cry when I’m mad.”
I motion for him to move on. “I insist.” My car pulls up in front of us. The driver opens the door. I nudge her toward the passenger door. “See? It’s right here. Let me drop you somewhere. It’ll make my day.”
“Well, okay.” She dabs at the tears caught in her thick, dark eyelashes. “This is the second time you’ve come to my rescue.” Her gaze hovers on my mouth, and I like it there. I like having her attention focused on me.
“It’s my pleasure, Everly.” Lust and the need for revenge war inside me. How angry would Don McElroy be if I turned his little princess into my whore? It’s the perfect answer to my predicament. I can satisfy my sexual urges and piss him off at the same time.
The seductive scent of her perfume fills the car once the door closes behind us. Her fingers fly over the keyboard of her phone. After a few minutes, she sighs and throws her phone into her purse then tugs the hem of her dress down to her knees. The movement draws my eyes to her shapely calves. I can’t help wondering what kind of knickers she’s wearing beneath that dress. A thong? Lace? Satin? If there’s a god, she’s not wearing any at all. Then I feel guilty for lusting after her while she’s in obvious distress. I shift in the seat to hide the growing tightness of my trousers and try to steady my thoughts.
“Where can we drop you?” I ask, wishing I had the balls to take her to my hotel. Once she gives the address to my driver, I raise the partition to provide us with privacy. The ooze of her tears has halted. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No. Thank you. There’s really nothing to be done.” She glances at me, smiling through her sadness, and I respect her all the more for the effort. “I’m not usually this emotional, but lunch…it was a fiasco.”
“We all have those kinds of days.” I squeeze the hand resting on the white leather seat between us. “My conversation with your father didn’t go very well, either.” Attraction surges up my arm at the glide of her soft skin against mine. The bones of her fingers feel fragile and small beneath my large ones. The need to protect her consumes me. “Everything will work out.”
“I’m not so sure.” The edges of her white teeth bite into the plump flesh of her lower lip. I hold back a groan. What I wouldn’t give to hear her beg for my cock again.
We’re silent as the car sits in stalled traffic. I can’t take my eyes off her. A blush creeps from her neck, up her throat, and settles in her cheeks. Having her next to me is an unexpected dream come true. Her feminine presence fills the car, making me feel large and clumsy. She slips her hand from beneath mine to push the hair away from her face.
“I know it was you last night.” My heart skips a beat at her unexpected confession. She tilts her head, gazing down her nose at me, waiting for a response.
“So much for the NDA,” I remark dryly. Inside, I’m pleased. With our identities out in the open, life is infinitely more interesting. “Do we need to talk about it?”
“I don’t know. Do we?” The boldness of her stare jolts all the way to my cock.
“Not really. Unless you have questions?” I lean forward, caught up in the flecks of green and gray in her blue eyes.
“Does Nicky know?”
“No. And he won’t hear of it. At least not from me.” In the afternoon light, her complexion is almost translucent. Sheer perfection. I study her profile, searching for clues about her feelings toward him. “Do you still care for him?” The idea hurts more than I care to admit.
“No.” Her chin juts. This display of spirit is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. She shifts in the seat to face me. Her knee grazes mine. A thrill scurries up my leg and into my groin. Her eyes narrow. “How do you treat women, Prince Heinrich? A man in your position must have girls lined up at the door, begging for your attention. Do you fuck them then throw them away like he does?”
Her question catches me off guard. No one talks to me this way, not even my closest advisors. “You’re a cheeky wench.”
“I’m just over the bullshit.” She rests her head on the back of the seat. There’s a note of weariness in her voice, much too heavy for someone so young. The limo changes lanes abruptly as a car cuts us off. She braces a hand against the seat in front of her.
“I don’t fuck just anyone. You’re one of a select few.”
“Am I supposed to be flattered?” She swallows, like I’m making her nervous.
“I’m sitting alone in a limousine with you, breaking every rule of Androvian protocol, telling you that you’re special. So yes, I want you to be flattered.”
She shifts in the seat. Her eyes rove over my face. “Do you mind if I ask you a question? I could use an impartial perspective.”
“Sure. Ask away.” This is my chance to gain her trust. I’m not sure why it matters, but it does. I lean forward, curious to hear her story.
“What if you knew a secret about someone important in your life—something devastating? Telling this secret will ruin a lot of lives. But if you don’t tell, innocent people will be destroyed.”
Her question catches me off guard. Is she talking about her father? I need to tread carefully. An unwelcome thought plants in my head. What if our encounter was engineered by Nicky and Don as some kind of elaborate scheme to sway my political alliances? More than one future king has been defeated via his lust for a beautiful woman.
I take a minute to consider the possibility before answering. The hue of her eyes intensifies to infinite pools of azure. My heart skips a beat. I clear my throat. “I need more information. Has this person done something illegal?”
“Yes.” The word is breathy and soft.
“Do you think he—or she—will do it again if given a chance?”
“Yes.”
“The answer is simple. Innocent people must always be protected from those of corrupt natures.” As a member of the royal family, I’m sworn to look after my subjects and shelter them from harm. “If you don’t come forward, you’re complicit in the crime by your silence. Those who stand by and do nothing are just as guilty as those who commit the offense, in my opinion.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” A rueful smile twitches the corner of her mouth, taking my eyes there, making me yearn to kiss her. Except I don’t do kisses. Not for her. Not for any woman. Especially not now, with the threat of Don McElroy looming overhead. She shrinks into the seat and crosses her legs away from me. Sunlight catches fire to the red strands in her dark hair.
The pressure behind the fly of my trousers continues to grow with each blink of her lacy eyelashes. Memories of last night’s clutching fingers and the scrape of nails down my back intensify the ache in my testicles.
I change the subject, hoping to distract myself. “Have you known Mrs. Menshikov for very long?”
“As long as I can remember.” Her features soften, and a small smile tugs the corners of her mouth. “Grade school, middle school, high school, and college. She was my personal assistant for a while—until she met Roman.”
“I’ve known Roman for years. Nicky even longer. If Roman married her, she must be someone special.”
“She is.” Her face falls. I’ve touched on a tender subject. Her attachment to her friend
During our conversation, the car reaches her apartment building and pulls up to the entrance. Too soon, my time with her draws to an end. She slides across the seat, eager to leave. I drum my fingertips on my knee. I can’t let our first unmasked encounter end like this. Not now. Not when there is so much to be gained by claiming her.
“Would you like to come upstairs?” She pauses at the door to look back at me, surprising me again. “For sex, I mean.”
“Pardon?” My stomach flips. I’m confident I misheard her.
“I said, would you like to come upstairs and have sex with me?” She peers through her lashes with those enormous summer sky eyes. “Look, we both know that’s all either of us are interested in. And to be honest, I could use a distraction right now.”
My throat goes dry. The afternoon has climbed out of the toilet and shot up to the stars. I can’t believe my luck. I scrub a hand over my face. As she exits the car, the hem of her dress rises. A flash of toned thigh steals my common sense. She pauses on the sidewalk, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Are you coming?”
The Royal Arrangement: Prequel to The Rebel Queen Page 7
