The Reckless Prince (Royal Billionaires of Mondragón Book 4)

by Jewel Allen

  Gemma’s expression tightened. “I see. Well,” she flicked her glance at me, “since we’re being open about our pasts, I must tell you, Diego, that I know all about your bad temper. And in no uncertain terms, you will need to curb it here, especially with the children, or your service project will be terminated.”

  I resisted the urge to smirk. She sounded so self-righteous. Like I was the only one in the world with a bad temper induced by silly fans.

  “Duly noted, madame.” I made a mock salute.

  My voice had come off low and husky. Again, her nostrils flared, and she stepped back, putting a noticeable distance between us.

  “I’m Mike,” the man with Gemma said, not offering to shake my hand. It was as if they’d team up to hate my guts right off.

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, but he only nodded, his eyes not leaving my face.

  Two women Gemma introduced as staff had walked over from the field and stepped up to greet me, friendly for a change. Cherise was a heavy-set lady with a ready smile, and Ali gawked at me openly from behind her thick glasses.

  Gemma turned to Mike. “Can you guys start setting up the drill area?” To me, she said, “I’ll let Jason know you’re here.”

  Brigid and I exchanged glances as Gemma walked away, and she shook her head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your poor mother,” was all she said.

  Chapter Six

  Gemma

  I had seen photos of Diego Assante before in the news and had watched footage of his glorious saves, but nothing prepared me for the reality.

  This prince was an honest-to-goodness hunk.

  On my way into the building to get Jason, I tried to push Diego’s handsome face out of my mind, to no avail. I recalled that sexy scruff on his rugged jaw. His muscular build under that fitted shirt and jeans. His easy, charming smile. That buzz up my arm from just a mere handshake.

  Why did I have to be assigned to this flirt?

  Oh, I knew what he was up to. That caressing glance that made me feel flattered…and vulnerable. That low voice that could get a girl all mixed up.

  Well, I wasn’t the kind of girl who would be silly enough to fall for an athlete, no thank you.

  Especially for His Royal Hothead.

  “You left him standing out there?” Jason huffed and hurried to his door, practically yanking the knob off. “You should have brought him here.”

  Would he have said the same thing of any other volunteer?

  I followed Jason back outside where he schmoozed the prince. I hung back, trying not to stare. After some small talk, Jason turned to me. “Gemma, could you please give Prince Diego the grand tour?”

  “Please,” the newcomer winced, “just Diego is fine.”

  “That just seems so informal.” Jason chuckled. “But okay, Diego.”

  I sighed inwardly. These were going to be a long five weeks with Jason fawning over this man. Then I realized Jason was staring at me pointedly. He raised his eyebrows. “The tour, Gemma?”

  I wanted to shoot back that the facility would take maybe a minute to tour, but whatever. Instead, I just said, “This way, please.”

  Brigid and two muscled guys in casual clothes and sunglasses followed along too. I glanced over my shoulder at them discreetly.

  “They go wherever I go,” Diego said.

  “Huh, that’d put a damper on your dating,” I said without thinking.

  Amusement flickered in his eyes, drawing me in against my will. “Well…not everywhere.”

  “But you said—”

  “I meant everywhere I invite them to.”

  “That is incorrect,” Brigid spoke up. “We shadow him all the time unless he deliberately loses us.”

  She scared me a little—the way her eyes took in everything like they were a recording device—but I liked her. She was gutsy, and she made me feel less awkward around this flirt. The prince and I wouldn’t be alone, thank goodness.

  I pointed at the expanse of lawn. “These are the fields the children play on. They were just redone in the past year.”

  Diego’s eyes assessed them with pleasure. “Very nice.”

  I talked about our Disadvantaged Youth Program and found my voice rising. I took a deep breath and looked away, embarrassed. “Sorry, I feel strongly about helping children, if you can’t tell.”

  “It’s admirable that you are so passionate about helping children,” he said quietly. “How’d you get involved in this organization?”

  This was supposed to be a tour. I didn’t like how he was trying to make this about me. “I needed a job, so I applied.”

  “You got injured in the pro circuit, right?”

  Anger swiftly razed over me like a hot wind. I ignored his nosy question.

  “Sorry.” He gave me an apologetic glance.

  “We don’t need to go over that part of my life,” I snapped.

  He flinched, and I felt kind of bad, but he had touched a raw nerve. I turned away and continued with his tour. I would make sure it was worth his entry fee.

  “That’s the clubhouse. In case of rain or bad weather. But we all know soccer is a foul-weather sport.”

  “Don’t we all? Where are the living quarters?”

  “Right there.” I pointed at the bunkhouse situated next to the main building. “Women’s dorms are on the right, men’s on the left.”

  “And the swimming pool and hot tub?”

  I sent him a scathing look in case he was serious. Mischief lurked in his eyes. “Will most likely be built now, thanks to your involvement here. Jason will be sure of that.”

  His mouth twitched. “Glad to see I don’t intimidate you at all.”

  I drew myself straighter. “Nothing intimidates me.”

  He walked over so fast I had no time to react. We stood toe-to-toe, his breath warm on my face. “Me neither.” His gaze traced my cheek, my nose, my mouth. “Except for a beautiful woman.”

  My breath hitched in my throat.

  “We’re ready for you, Gemma!” Mike’s voice broke the spell.

  I blinked and ducked my head. “Okay, be right there.”

  Diego grasped my wrist. “Thanks for the tour.”

  I glanced at his hand and pulled away, the imprint of his fingers still burning my skin. I simply nodded. Telling him you’re welcome would have been a lie.

  “I’ll bring the children over to meet you.”

  Chapter Seven

  Diego

  “Well, that was interesting.” Brigid delivered the observation in her usual dry style as we waited.

  I grinned. “I think I’m going to like it here the next five weeks.”

  “Oh? She doesn’t make you shake in your boots?”

  “Nope. I like a challenge.”

  Brigid slowly crossed her arms over her chest. “May I remind you that you’re here to do a service project, not to fall in love?”

  “Brigid, Brigid. You’re no fun. What’s the harm in a flirtation?”

  “Well, usually it results in a broken heart. Or a scandal. Besides, what about Princess Adele?”

  “What about her?”

  “I thought you were practically betrothed.”

  “I admit, I liked the idea of dating Princess Adele, until—”

  There was a crunch of footsteps nearby. When I looked up, Gemma’s mouth formed a thin line. How much had she heard? I wished I’d finished out my sentence: “—I met Gemma.”

  “If you’ll please come this way.” Her voice was cool but polite. I was pretty sure she’d heard what I said about Princess Adele.

  “How old are the kids?” I asked as we strolled over to where the staff was teaching them some passing drills.

  “Eight and older.”

  “Just like me when I got started.”

  She gave me a side-glance. “Did you always know you wanted to be a goalie?”

  “No, not really. It kind of fell in my lap. The goalie on my junior team got injured, and we needed a replacement
fast. I gave it a shot and loved it. And you? Did you always want to be a defensive player?”

  “Yes. From the very start. I liked stealing the ball away from the forwards.” Her eyes flashed.

  “I bet that was satisfying.”

  When she smiled, her eyes lit up and her face softened. “Yup.”

  Our glances crossed and held. She looked away first, leaving me wondering what had hit me. I would love to get to know her better, if she would let me. But her expression had turned to one of serious business. Until she faced the children.

  Again, I saw her expression change. Her features softened, and she looked happy. Doting. Like an older sister.

  “This is Diego, kids,” she said.

  Some of them looked my way, even as their feet stayed busy. Just like I was when I was a young boy. My feet always restless, always playing with the ball.

  “Is he our new coach?” a girl with red pigtails asked.

  Gemma playfully tapped her on the head. “He’ll be helping us, yes, but probably not as a coach.”

  And here I thought I was going to take over the team. I leaned toward Gemma and whispered, “What exactly will I be doing?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “I’m happy to give them goalie tips.”

  “Yeah, I suppose that would make sense.” She averted her gaze, making me feel nervous.

  “But…?”

  “Tyrell, Jackson,” she called out. “Please keep your hands to yourselves.” After that tussle was settled, I tried to get Gemma’s attention once again.

  “Where would you like me?” I asked, standing close to her so she could hear me over the children’s chatter and ball-handling.

  “Where…would…I…like…you?” Her voice came out breathless. Stepping back, she pushed a lock of hair away from her gorgeous face. A frown appeared, followed her firm declaration: “I need you to shag the balls.”

  After I picked up my jaw from the ground, I cocked my head, my jaw tightening. “Seriously? You want me to shag the balls?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin as though daring me to question her. “Yes.”

  “How about if I teach the children to block goals from penalty kicks? I might know a thing or two.”

  “Not yet. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  I was sure she was smirking as she stepped away.

  That was it? She was done with me? I walked over to a net and positioned myself as shagger. When was the last time I did this? Probably never.

  I felt that prickle on the back of my neck like someone was watching me. I glanced to my right and caught a boy about eight years old studying me with big dark eyes. Sleek straight black hair cut in the shape of a bowl ringed his head.

  “You take that side,” he said, “and I’ll take this.”

  I smiled. “Are you the shagger boss?”

  His forehead creased. “Huh?”

  “Never mind. What’s your name?”

  “Santosh.”

  I offered to shake his hand. “Deal, Santosh. I’m Diego.”

  “Like San Diego. That’s in California.”

  Smart kid. “Yes, it is.”

  He shook my hand and then solemnly went back to watching for balls. I let him shag a majority of the balls—our goalie didn’t stop very many of them—but I took some just to make sure he didn’t fire me for slacking on the job.

  Brigid cackled. I looked over, and she was holding up her phone. “I need to make sure I film this.”

  “Come on, Brigid, that’s not funny.” I tried to dodge the lens.

  “Oh, but it’ll be great to show that you’re being rehabilitated with the sweet influence of these cute children…and their lovely trainer.”

  As much as Gemma had rebuffed me earlier, my eyes wandered over to her. She was showing a circle of children how to handle the ball…just as one smacked me right on the face, knocking me to the ground.

  The sky was so blue, and the grass prickly on the back of my head.

  “I think he’s dead,” came Santosh’s wonder-filled voice.

  Of course I got right back up, with everything intact…except for my pride.

  At least I got a belly laugh out of the lovely Gemma Garcia.

  Chapter Eight

  Gemma

  “So,” Cherise said, sidling over to me in the clubhouse commons area at the end of the day, her shiny brown bob swinging at her jaw. “It’s Friday, and you know what that means.”

  I groaned. “I’m not going swing dancing, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.” She snapped her fingers to an imaginary tune. “You turned me down the last time, but I made you promise you would go ‘next week.’ Next week is here, lady.”

  “I’m sure Ali will go with you.”

  “She is already. We want you to come.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why? So I can get anxiety from being asked to dance by a complete stranger?”

  “Mike is coming. I already invited him.”

  I shook my head. “You know how awkward that is.” He had tried asking me out, but I had zero interest, so I’d said the dreaded words, Let’s just be friends.

  “You shouldn’t have turned him down right off.”

  “I can’t walk back what I said.”

  “Well, okay.” Cherise studied her nails, not fooling me for one minute with that innocent-looking expression. “Let’s take our resident prince, then.”

  “Even worse.”

  Cherise studied me closely. “Why are you so anti-Diego?” She lowered her voice. “I watched you two when he first got here. It was like a welding job—sparks flying everywhere.”

  “Very funny,” I smirked. “Oh, you mean other than the fact he’s here doing a service project for blowing up off-field? And that he acts like he’s God gift to earth?”

  “And the problem with that is?” Cherise snapped her fingers, but this time out of impatience, not trying to follow some musical beat. “He certainly deserves to think that. Have you seen those abs—”

  “Cherise, hush. Besides, I overheard him talking to his bodyguard that he’s really into a certain princess.”

  She gaped at me. “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  I shushed her seriously now, as Diego entered the commons and headed toward us.

  “Hi, ladies,” he said, looking first at Cherise then letting his glance linger over me.

  I gave Cherise a warning glance, but she had that mischievous light in her eyes.

  “Hey, Diego,” Cherise said. “Do you have any plans tonight for your first night in Sunnyridge?”

  I glared at Cherise.

  “I don’t.” He looked from her to me. “Why?”

  Cherise batted her eyelashes. “Gemma and I were wondering if you’d like to go swing dancing with us tonight.”

  Oh, how I wanted to pinch her. “I’m sure you’re busy,” I told Diego in a hurry.

  “Actually, I’m not.”

  “How lucky for us.” Cherise chuckled.

  “Me too.” His forehead crinkled with worry. “But I’m not too sure about this swing dance. How do you do it?”

  Giggling, Cherise opened up her arms into a dance posture and let Diego wrap his arms around her. They were both such flirts. Diego was lapping it up.

  I didn’t like how this newcomer made me irritated at Cherise. There was no good reason why I should be feeling jealous of all things. I barely knew this Diego. But watching him with Cherise reminded me that I was more athletic than feminine.

  “Then the two of you should go,” I suggested.

  Cherise glanced at me briefly from over her shoulder. “Oh, no, you don’t get out of this so easy, Gemma.”

  Diego was busy counting, doing the waltz, maybe? Whatever he was doing, he was kind of cute in an old-fashioned way. Nerdy. Like one of those boys in junior high who you got assigned to in PE and took dancing way too seriously, counting steps and all.

  “What’s going on?” Mike appr
oached us with an uneasy smile, glancing at Diego.

  Cherise explained the plan for the night and invited him. Burgers at Astro first, followed by swing dancing at Jem’s.

  Mike darted a glance at me, interest lurking in the back of his hazel eyes. I wished I could like him better, but he was a bit too intense for me. He reminded me of a mountain cat, always watching. Never relaxed. The two of us together would be kind of explosive.

  Diego was really no better, as his hotheaded reputation could attest. Not that I wanted to get to know him. I was just a glorified babysitter for this royal brat until he needed to move on, all forgiven, in five weeks.

  Diego looked up and caught me watching him. I felt myself blush and averted my gaze. I didn’t want him to think I was remotely interested. Besides, he and Cherise really looked good together.

  “Your turn, Gemma,” Cherise said.

  I shook my head. “It’s okay. You guys are doing good together.”

  “Come on,” she cajoled.

  She would hound me about it all night, knowing her. Might as well get it done and over with. Besides, how much flirting could this prince do while everyone else was watching?

  Cherise gave up her spot, and I came forward.

  Diego took charge immediately. His hands went in the right places, and his hold on me was firm and confident. I tried to ignore his soapy, masculine scent, or how his jaw had that sexy scruff. I needed to look somewhere else.

  I lifted my eyes to his.

  Big mistake.

  For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His expression mirrored mine. Dazed and wonder-filled.

  I lowered my eyes, but I could still feel him staring at my face. I shouldn’t have agreed to dance with him. My body tingled with crazy sensations, and I was freaking out.

  “Relax.” Diego said this word softly in my ear, his breath caressing my sensitive skin.

  Was this guy serious? Relax? How could I relax in his arms?

  I shoved him back and marched to the side of the room, not looking at him.

  “Well,” Cherise piped up. “Wasn’t that fun?”