Day Leclaire’s The Royals Bundle

by Day Leclaire

  “What you saw in the garden, it was just a bit of harmless fun. Nothing consequential. And it’s not like I’ll be in Verdonia for very much longer. A few more weeks at most.” Could Joc hear the desperation in her voice? Probably. Her brother was as skilled at reading people as he was at making money. In fact, she doubted he’d have amassed his current fortune if he hadn’t possessed both abilities. “Tomorrow I’ll be back at work and tonight will have been nothing more than a sweet dream. Just a meaningless interlude.”

  “And Montgomery?”

  She took a deep breath. “Since you don’t want me to see him again, I won’t be seeing him.” For some reason the realization caused a stab of pain.

  “Montgomery’s a powerful man. If he wants you, he’ll find you.”

  She shook her head. “He won’t waste time trying. After all, it was only one dance.”

  “And one kiss,” Joc added. “No big deal.”

  She flinched. “Exactly.” She deliberately changed the subject. “I guess I have you to thank for the ticket to the ball, as well as the dress.”

  “Considering how hard you’ve been working, you deserve it,” he answered, accepting the new topic with good grace. “It only seemed appropriate to send a suitable dress and shoes. I’m willing to bet you didn’t bring anything with you.”

  “Good guess. Maybe that’s because I’m here to work, not play.”

  “Speaking of which, the reports I’ve received have been glowing.”

  “Thank you.” His acknowledgment of her accomplishments delighted her. Although Joc wasn’t stingy with his praise, he also didn’t offer it gratuitously. “And thank you for tonight. It’s been—” Amazing. Incredible. A dream come true. “Very nice.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her brow. “You’re welcome. I don’t suppose you’re ready to come home now?”

  “Home?” It took her a minute to catch his drift. “Oh, you mean to the States?”

  “Of course I mean to the States.” Amusement competed with impatience. “Honey, as wonderful a job as you’re doing here, I need you back in Dallas. You’re my best executive accountant.”

  “Was,” she stressed. “I was your best executive accountant. Now I head up your European branch of Arnaud’s Angels.”

  He waved that aside. “A total waste of your talent.”

  Her mouth tightened. “I don’t happen to agree. The children need me.”

  “You mean…you need the children.”

  Sometimes it didn’t pay to be subtle with her brother. “I’m not returning to Dallas.”

  “It doesn’t have to be Dallas, if you’d rather not.” His instant willingness to compromise warned of his seriousness. “You can work out of whichever city suits you.”

  “What suits me is the job I’m currently doing. Considering how much work there is for me in Europe, I may never return home.” Her hand tightened on his shoulder. “I need you to back off, Joc, and let me live my life my way. Either I continue with Angels or I offer my services to some other charitable organization. I guarantee they’ll snatch me up in a heartbeat.”

  To her surprise, he let it go. “Fine, fine. If that’s what you want, stay in Verdonia. Hell, stay wherever in Europe you want.” A frown touched his brow. “So long as it’s away from Montgomery, I can live with it.”

  Lander stood on the sidelines, watching Joc and Juliana dance with an ease that spoke of long intimacy. Damn it all! It might have been a replay of their years at Harvard. For some reason, they’d constantly found themselves in competition. On the playing field. In the classroom. And in their most contentious battles, over women. After the first few years where they’d taken loutish delight in poaching, their attitudes had changed. Lander hadn’t wanted any of the women Arnaud had been with, anymore than Joc had wanted Lander’s.

  But that changed the moment Lander had met Juliana. Now only one question remained…was Juliana fair game? And what did he do if she wasn’t?

  The dance ended. But Joc didn’t release his hold on his partner. Rather, they spoke quietly for a moment before he bent forward and gave her a second kiss, this one on the cheek. It took every ounce of self-control for Lander to keep his shoulder glued to the wall instead of striding across the room and planting his fist in Arnaud’s nose. If that kiss had landed any closer to Juliana’s mouth he might have, regardless of the consequences.

  The couple reluctantly parted—at least, it appeared reluctant to Lander—and the crowd chose that inopportune moment to surge forward, blocking his view. When next he could see, only Joc remained, who offered a nod of acknowledgment and headed toward Lander, joining him on the sidelines.

  “I think it’s time we spoke, don’t you?” Joc asked.

  Screw that. “Where is she?”

  “Gone.”

  “Is she yours?” Lander demanded with single-minded intensity.

  Anger flared in Joc’s gaze. “That’s a hell of a thing to ask. Juliana doesn’t belong to any man. Not me. And for damn sure not you. Not now. Not ever.”

  Not ever? He’d see about that. “If she’s not yours, I want to know where I can reach her.”

  “Did you hear what I said?”

  “I heard. Are you telling me she’s off-limits?”

  A silent battle of wills ensued with Joc blinking first. “Is she that important to you?”

  “Yes.”

  Joc shrugged his concession, but Lander could see the wheels turning. Ever the businessman, he was no doubt trying to figure out how to turn the situation to his financial advantage. “Fine. But don’t you have more important issues to deal with than some woman you only met tonight? Isn’t that why you called me?”

  It shouldn’t have taken Lander a full minute to switch his focus from Juliana to affairs of state. But it did. Aw, hell. He scrubbed a hand across his face. He had it bad. Without another word, Lander led the way to his private office. It was a large room with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an unparalleled view of each day’s sunrise. The room also overlooked the front of the palace, and Lander made a point of crossing to the window just in time to see a distinctive flash of silver silk disappear into the back of a cab.

  Deliberately forcing himself to redirect his focus to the current problems plaguing his country, he turned to face Joc Arnaud. His nemesis stood in front of a map of Verdonia, his hands clasped behind his back.

  “So when will you be crowned king?”

  “Either in two months—” Lander shrugged “—or never.”

  “Never?” Joc swiveled, his brows climbing. “I don’t understand. Wasn’t your father king? I assumed when he died that the crown would fall to you. Isn’t that how those things work?”

  Lander inclined his head. “In a true monarchy that would be correct. But in Verdonia it’s a little different. We have a popular vote among the eligible royals.”

  Joc frowned. “You and your brother have to compete for the throne?”

  “As a second son Merrick’s not in the running. No, the eldest royals from each principality are the only ones eligible.”

  “Well, hell. Who are you up against?” Joc leaned in and tapped the southernmost principality. “I gather you represent Verdon.”

  Lander joined Arnaud in front of the map and indicated the principality farthest north. “Prince Brandt von Folke is the eligible royal from Avernos.”

  Joc traced the principality snuggled between north and south. “And this one in the middle? Celestia, is it?”

  “There aren’t any eligible royals. You have to be twenty-five to rule Verdonia and Princess Alyssa won’t turn twenty-five until after the election. She’s my brother, Merrick’s, wife. They married just a few days ago.”

  “A political affair?”

  Lander nodded. “It started out that way. She was going to marry Brandt until Merrick intervened.”

  “Why would Merrick inter—” Joc broke off, his brow furrowed. “Oh, I get it. If Alyssa and this Brandt fellow had married, it would have united the royal famil
ies of Avernos and Celestia. Wouldn’t that have ensured Prince Brandt the popular vote?”

  “Astute as always,” Lander commented. Joc’s talent at grasping the salient points and analyzing how they affected the big picture had always—reluctantly—impressed the hell out of him. “Yes, Brandt would have won the election if Merrick hadn’t interfered. He abducted Alyssa and married her himself.”

  Joc barked out an incredulous laugh. “Gutsy.”

  “Would have been if he hadn’t fallen in love with her.”

  “I don’t know.” Joc’s expression turned dubious. “You certain he wasn’t ensuring you the win by uniting the Montgomerys with her people? Sounds damn convenient if you ask me.”

  Lander fought back a stab of anger. “I think he’d have claimed it was quite inconvenient. But if you saw them together—” he shrugged “—they appear disgustingly happy.”

  Joc glanced across the room and brightened. Crossing to Lander’s desk, he helped himself to a Havana Corona from the humidor. “Okay, so now that you’ve caught me up on the political situation, why don’t you explain what I’m doing here.” Making himself at home, he clipped the cigar and passed it to Lander before repeating the process for himself. “I gather there’s a serious reason or you wouldn’t have imposed on our…friendship.”

  Lander didn’t bother couching his words. “I need your help.” He took his time lighting his cigar, before lifting his gaze to stare at Arnaud through the haze of pungent smoke. “Verdonia’s in trouble.”

  “I assume you mean financial difficulties. I suppose you expect me to bail you out just because I owe you over a half-forgotten college debt?”

  “If it were half-forgotten, you wouldn’t be here.” He allowed his comment to hang, before adding, “And I’ll only accept your help if you can do it aboveboard.”

  Joc bit down on his cigar, fury burning in his gaze. “You have a hell of a nerve.” A hint of rawness ripped through his voice. “My father may have walked the wrong side of the line. At least, that’s what the feds claimed. And he may have fathered a pair of bastard children on my mother and then refused to give them his name. But I’m not, and never have been, my father. I only deal aboveboard and if you’ve had me investigated, as I’m sure you have, you damn well know that.”

  Lander inclined his head. “That’s the only reason we’re talking. Tell me something, Arnaud. How many failing businesses have you turned around?”

  “Too many to count.”

  “Right now Verdonia is a failing business. I need your skill—and maybe a few Arnaud business interests relocating here—to get my country turned around.”

  Joc worked on his cigar before slowly nodding. “If there’s money to be made helping, I’ll help. But I’ll want an airtight contract before I let go of one thin dime.”

  “Perfect. First we’ll talk money.” Lander opened a decanter and splashed a couple fingers of single malt into a crystal tumbler. He held it out. “And then we’ll talk women.”

  Three

  Juliana cuddled Harver in her arms as she spoke quietly to the baby’s mother. Born with a cleft palate, the little boy would be another of Arnaud’s Angels. At least, he would if Juliana had her way. She had doctors standing by once she received approval from Harver’s parents for the operation.

  The mother was understandably fearful, while the father appeared suspicious of the offer of such an expensive procedure for free, despite her having explained everything with meticulous care. It helped that the surgeon was Verdonian, his calm voice of reason allaying most concerns. At long last the parents signed the consent forms and Harver was carried off for the necessary testing in preparation for his surgery.

  After wishing the parents well, and receiving a fierce hug from Harver’s mother, Juliana gathered up her paperwork and filed the various forms and folders in her briefcase. As always, an irrepressible excitement bubbled through her now that her task was completed, now that she knew another baby would receive the life-altering procedure. How could Joc think an accounting job, no matter how lofty the position, could compare to this?

  She exited the hospital, her high spirits giving a swing to her step as she headed toward a nearby cab stand. A light breeze tugged at her hair, loosening a few of the curls that she’d secured at the nape of her neck with a clip. She hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a black stretch limo pulled up beside her. She sensed who it was even before the door swung open to reveal Prince Lander.

  Dismay filled her. So he’d found her. She shouldn’t be surprised. It was bound to happen. Her grip tightened on her briefcase as she inclined her head. “Your Highness.”

  “Please, get in, Ms. Rose,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  Just because he was a prince didn’t mean she had to go with him. She’d made enough of a fool of herself the previous evening without making it worse in the harsh light of day. “No, thank you. I think we said everything we needed to last night.”

  “Perhaps.” He paused a telling moment. “But we didn’t do everything we planned, did we?”

  She fought to control the flush that heated her cheeks. “Fortunately. Now if you’ll excuse me—”

  “I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.” Determination settled into the hard lines of his face. She recognized that expression. She should. Joc wore it often enough and it always signaled an unwillingness to budge from his position. “Now are you going to get in, or do I continue to draw attention to us by following you?”

  He couldn’t have found a more effective way of convincing her to join him. Caving to the inevitable, she slid in beside him, placing her briefcase between them. Let him read whatever he wished into that small, pointless gesture.

  “Okay, speak.” She closed her eyes, drawing on every ounce of self-control. “Please excuse me, Your Highness. I apologize if that sounded rude. How can Arnaud’s Angels be of assistance to you?”

  “I’m not interested in your charitable work,” he bit out. “I’m interested in you, as you damn well know.”

  “Yes, sir. I believe you explained that last night. Perhaps we didn’t have an opportunity to finish that conversation, after all. So allow me to finish it now.”

  She forced herself to turn and offer her coldest stare. It was a major mistake. She’d mapped out precisely what she’d intended to say, worked it almost like a mathematical equation—the words, the intonation, the expression she’d use. But in the space of the two heartbeats it took for her to fall into his intense gaze, every last thought vanished from her head. She could only stare at him in complete and utter bewilderment.

  “Fine,” he prompted. “Finish it.”

  “Finish it.” She moistened her lips. “Right. I’ll do that right now.”

  Held by those brilliant hazel eyes, she racked her brain, struggling to remember what she was supposed to finish. Something. Something about…finishing. Her confusion must have shown because his mouth twitched. And then a chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. “Hell, woman. We do have a bizarre effect on each other, don’t we?”

  She couldn’t help it; his laughter proved too contagious. Shaking her head, she gave in to her amusement. “What am I going to do about you, Your Highness?”

  “Whatever you want. And make it Lander.”

  “Thank you.” She regarded him with sudden suspicion. “How did you find me? Joc?”

  “No. He refused to help.”

  She could be grateful for that much, at least. For some reason their shared amusement had her relaxing enough for her brain to function again. “I remember what I was going to say.”

  “Something about finishing?” he offered with a slight smile.

  She nodded gravely. “Finishing things between us.”

  “Excellent. I’ll instruct my driver to drop us off at the palace so we can finish what we started last night.”

  She fought to keep from laughing again. She didn’t want to be charmed by him. Yet she was. Utterly charmed. Enthralled. Entertained. Filled with an imp
ossible yearning. It had to stop, and stop now. “I meant finishing, as in ending things between us,” she clarified.

  “Why?”

  The simple question caught her off guard. “Last night…It wasn’t meant to happen.”

  “But it did. You wanted me. You can’t deny that.”

  Honesty came hard, but she refused to shy from it. “I don’t deny it. I wish I could blame it on the moonlight. Or on too much to drink.”

  “It wasn’t even close to a full moon. And you didn’t have anything alcoholic.”

  “No, I didn’t.” If only she had, it would be some balm to her pride. “I take full responsibility for what happened.”

  “Noble, but unnecessary.” Irony laced his words. “I seem to recall you weren’t alone in that garden.”

  “But I let you—” She’d let him kiss her. Incredible, amazing kisses. And he’d touched her. Just remembering had her aching to have his hands on her again.

  He studied her, pinning her with a look that had her brain misfiring again. “Are you feeling guilty because of Joc?”

  She blinked in bewilderment. “Joc? What does he have to do with this?”

  “He asked for two invitations when I invited him to the ball. I assume he sent the second to you. And I’m also guessing he might have had something to do with your designer gown, as well. Didn’t you tell me it was a gift?”

  He didn’t know. Relief swept through her. He’d assumed she and Joc were lovers. Her brother had promised he wouldn’t tell Lander of their connection, but she’d been concerned that the prince might have guessed the truth. She nodded. “Joc arranged for both the clothes and the invitation.”

  “Is that why you want to end things between us? Are the two of you involved?”

  “Not the way you mean.”

  His eyes narrowed in thought. “In that case, there can only be one other reason. It’s because of who I am, isn’t it?”

  She couldn’t hold his gaze. “Yes.”