by A. C. Arthur
A royal wager
Playboy prince Roland DeSaunters is ready to live up to his royal legacy—by betting on his future. Winning the beautiful Valora Harrington in a poker game is a scandal waiting to happen. Lucky for him, Val has no intention of getting involved with the younger brother of the man to whom she was once engaged. But after sharing an earth-shattering kiss with Val, Roland is the one swept off his feet.
An ill-fated engagement to a man she didn’t love convinced Val that finding Prince Charming wasn’t in her cards. That was before she was drawn into a passionate clandestine affair with the handsome bad boy of the reigning family. With dangerous enemies plotting the noble dynasty’s downfall, are Val and Roland ready to gamble on an uncertain future? Or could a last-minute challenge lead to the biggest surprise wedding Grand Serenity has ever seen?
“You never know what people truly think about you when all they’ve ever heard was gossip,” she admitted.
“Misjudgments,” Roland commented as his eyes seemed to search her face for something she wasn’t quite sure she possessed. “People tend to do that far too often.”
“I agree,” she said, her throat suddenly dry.
“Honesty is a beautiful thing,” he continued as he rubbed his hands down his thighs.
“It can be,” Val replied. “On the other hand, some people can’t accept the truth as well as they can a lie.”
“You want to know what’s true at this very moment?” Roland asked.
Was he leaning closer?
Val clenched the napkin she’d been holding more tightly in her hand.
“What?” she asked in response.
She didn’t really think she wanted to know what Roland was going to say next, but at the same time, she didn’t want this moment to end.
He was in fact leaning closer. He’d planted a palm on the blanket to hold himself steady as his face neared hers.
“I want you,” he whispered.
She gulped, loudly. Then as she licked her lips impulsively, his gaze lowered to her mouth.
“Yes, Valora, I definitely, unquestionably want you.”
Dear Reader,
It’s time for the big royal wedding! I so enjoyed writing Roland’s story because throughout the first two books he’s been in the background keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself. Well, Val has stepped onto the scene, and she’s brought out every feeling Roland has been desperately trying to keep at bay. I love this couple so much. Neither of them imagined they would ever find someone special, and when they do, they almost still can’t believe it. So it was very fitting to wrap up this trilogy with their love story. I hope you have enjoyed your time on Grand Serenity Island!
Happy reading,
ac
A.C. Arthur is an award-winning author who lives in Baltimore, Maryland, with her husband and three children. An active imagination and a love for reading encouraged her to begin writing in high school, and she hasn’t stopped since.
Books by A.C. Arthur
Harlequin Kimani Romance
Second Chance, Baby
Defying Desire
Full House Seduction
Summer Heat
Sing Your Pleasure
Touch of Fate
Winter Kisses
Desire a Donovan
Surrender to a Donovan
Decadent Dreams
Eve of Passion
One Mistletoe Wish
To Marry a Prince
Loving the Princess
Prince Ever After
Visit the Author Profile page
at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002
To all the dreamers.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
Excerpt from It Started in Paradise by Nicki Night
Chapter 1
The breeze cut across his face like a million tiny pinpricks. Beneath him the engine purred like a satisfied female as the wheels smoothly took on another sharp turn on a road where there was only one lane’s worth of space.
He’d traveled this road so many times before and most times at the same rate of speed. His fingers hugged the steering wheel in an easy embrace, his back and body comfortable against the smooth leather seats of the silver-metallic Jaguar XJ220. Night had fallen over the mountains and cliffs of the island an hour ago, and he’d itched to get out of the confines of his everyday dress clothes and the formal dining room of the royal palace. It reminded him of his teenage years. Prince Roland Simon DeSaunters tossed his head back and laughed.
He’d been such a hellion back then. But eleven years ago didn’t seem that long, surely not long enough for him to mature into the prince that everyone expected him to be. He’d had too long to practice being reckless, adventurous and fearless, to bottle all that spirit and simply sit still as a member of the royal family of Grand Serenity Island. That wasn’t Roland’s speed at all.
His speed was fast. Fun. Borderline rowdy.
With that thought, he took another curve, going downhill as he headed into town. The moment he’d been able to escape the clutches of another tension-filled family dinner, Roland had climbed into his car and driven to the small house hidden in the clefts of the mountainside that he adored. It had been his first major purchase the moment he’d been old enough to spend a part of his inherited fortune without adult supervision. The house was a high school graduation gift to himself, although he hadn’t actually been able to live in it until his four years in the Royal Seaside Navy had been completed. His place was located on the southern tip of the island, where construction had not yet reached. Therefore, this part of his homeland was still flanked with dense forestation. Two of the island’s tallest mountains dubbed the Serene Mountains for their location thrust through the greenery.
Roland loved it here. The scent of the tropical air rejuvenated him. The stretch of the empty road encouraged him. This was where Roland thrived and very few people knew about it. Of course, there were guards here, he was a prince, after all. But he did not keep a formal staff, preferring to do for himself when he was there. That was the reason he drove himself tonight. He had an important appointment to keep and so he pressed harder on the gas and made yet another sharp turn, smiling into the breeze as his car handled perfectly.
Fifteen minutes later Roland pulled into a dark alley. He parked his car alongside a white stone dwelling. He got out and took the steps two at a time, until he reached a door that was painted a vibrant orange. Windows climbing up the front and back walls of the building had bright white borders and orange window boxes with flowers pouring out of each one.
A slender woman answered after he knocked on the door once. She stood quietly as Roland stepped inside. The hallway was narrowand he walked slowly, anticipation bubbling in his blood. The tips of his fingers tingled and his mind emptied of anything and everything that could be a distraction.
That included the attacks on his family that had resulted in the royal
palace being on lockdown for the past six months. The palace had even stopped having guests, and any staff member who hadn’t been vetted, questioned and watched on a daily basis was dismissed.
His father’s wedding would take place in just four weeks. His father’s fiancée was one royal pain in the ass. His older brother, Kris, was married and still worried about a few accounts at their family bank. His sister, Sam, was married and glowing with love—she’d begun turning over the majority of her responsibilities on the island to Landry, his sister-in-law. And, of course, Malayka, the pain-in-the-ass soon-to-be princess.
Roland pushed all of that out of his mind. He focused instead on red and black, diamonds, hearts, clubs and spades.
“We thought you might have changed your mind.”
That was the first comment that greeted Roland after he’d cleared the steps and walked down a short hallway into a brightly lit room. The walls were painted white there, too, and were covered in framed pictures of children, teenagers and older people. All photos had been taken on Grand Serenity, all faces appeared happy and content.
The round table in the center of the room had six chairs surrounding it, one of them empty.
“Game time is at nine,” Roland replied and looked at the Harry Winston Ocean Tourbillon watch he wore. “It’s eight fifty-five.”
“In the nick of time,” a second man spoke as Roland made his way to the empty chair and took a seat.
The first man who had spoken was Nelson Magloo, a fifty-something-year-old man who favored fedora hats and gold pinkie rings. Last year, Magloo and his twenty-one-year-old wife, Isla, had built a mansion on the eastern side of the island. Magloo was an oil tycoon from Nevada who’d just recently found out he’d inherited stock in the old Chapman oil refinery on the island.
The second man to speak was Henri Jauvian, a French businessman vacationing on the island in secret with one of his many mistresses.
Also in attendance were Reece McCallum, famed NASCAR driver; Kip Sallinger, owner of the Moonlight Casino; and Hugo Harrington, one of Roland’s father’s oldest friends. The group had been assembled by invitation only and Roland was honored to join them. He would also be honored to take every dime they each brought to the table.
“Who’s dealing?” he asked when they all continued to stare at him.
“That’s right,” Reece remarked with a crooked grin. “Can’t expect the royal prince to deal the cards for us.”
“I can deal cards just fine,” Roland told him. “Just as I can take your money without a second’s hesitation.”
“Cocky bastard, ain’t he?” Kip said with a chuckle that made his rotund upper body vibrate.
“But he can’t play no better than his granddaddy could,” Hugo added and took another puff on his cigar.
Roland was used to cigar smoke. His father kept a humidor on his desk and two in his private suite. Rafferty DeSaunters loved few things in life, his children and his cigars being among them.
“Josef couldn’t play worth squat,” Hugo continued after the cards had been dealt.
Roland held his cards loosely as he sat back in the chair. “And yet, he beat your father and a much younger, healthier and cockier you, on more than one occasion.”
The others laughed and Hugo frowned. “I won plenty. My pappy, well, he was another story,” Hugo quipped. “Now pony up fools. I’m in for three.”
Reece whistled. “Three thousand dollars. Hugo, you hit the lottery or somethin’?”
“No lottery here on the island. Good ole Rafe don’t like gamblin’ too much. I was surprised as the rest of the islanders when he let you come down here and open up that big shiny casino,” Hugo said to Kip.
Roland remained silent as he continued to contemplate the cards in his hand.
He didn’t comment on the subject at hand because he knew how his father felt about gambling. Roland’s sitting there at this very moment had a lot to do with Rafe’s misgivings on the subject. The DeSaunters family history, where gambling was concerned, was no secret, no matter how much Rafe wished it were.
Josef Marquise DeSaunters was not only known for leading the revolt against Marco Vansig and thus taking control of Grand Serenity in the late 1950s, but for his luck with the cards. Before the plan to take back the island had ever entered Josef’s mind, he was a hustler. Or, at least, that’s what Roland liked to think, because a good high-stakes card game was not the only venture that his grandfather excelled at. Josef could talk a woman out of her fortune. With his root-beer-colored eyes and movie-star looks, Josef would likely have the woman naked in bed while at the same time be emptying her bank account. He was good-looking, charismatic, fun-loving and, above all, courageous. All traits Roland felt blessed to possess himself. On more than one occasion he’d wondered what it would have been like to be Josef’s son, instead of Rafe’s.
Rafferty DeSaunters walked the straight line. He made the right decisions, did the honorable thing, said the perfect words and fought the good battle. He was, in every sense of the word, born to be a prince. Roland, on the other hand, was not. Or, at least, that’s what the press said.
Roland set his cards facedown on the table, reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. He counted until he’d matched Hugo’s amount.
“I’m in,” he said somberly and placed the remaining bills back inside his jacket.
“Yeah, I’m just feelin’ lucky tonight. Real damn lucky,” Hugo said.
Hugo held his cards tight and was grinning as if he knew he held the winning hand. Roland almost smiled at that thought. Instead, he remained silent, watching as the others studied their cards and made their moves. There had been no reason to go over the rules for this game; they’d all played at this level before. The secret, all cash, no-holds-barred level. There would also be no tell signs, Roland thought as he looked across the table to Reece, who was still studying what he’d been dealt. They were all professionals, which meant each one of them was just as good at bluffing as he was at winning. At least, four of them were.
“Fold,” Henri said grimly and pushed his cards facedown toward the deck.
Kip and Reece added their bets to the pot, and Hugo smiled giddily. “Yes sir! Lucky indeed!”
Reece put down two cards, nudging them toward the dealer so he could take two new ones. Kip took one new card. Hugo took none. Neither did Roland.
“I’ll raise the bet,” Hugo said, “to three thousand five hundred.”
Roland was amused.
Reece folded. Kip did, too.
Roland saw the bet.
Hugo continued to smile.
Roland slowly set his cards down faceup in a neat row on the table.
Hugo almost fell out of his chair he was so excited. A huge grin spread across the man’s face as he fanned himself with his cards. “Best night ever!” he said before finally dropping his cards to the table.
Roland didn’t look down to see his opponent’s cards immediately. Instead, he kept his gaze trained on Hugo Harrington. He was a short man, well below Roland’s six-foot-one-inch stature. He had a very round face with a dusky-brown complexion. When he laughed, his chins, all three of them, shook in a funny, animated way. His bugged eyes watered and the thick, bristly mustache above his top lip twitched. Something wasn’t right.
“You’re an idiot, Harrington,” Kip stated. “Your hand’s a loser.”
Reece chuckled as he reached over and spread Hugo’s cards farther apart. “Yeah, man, you lost. And His Royal Highness over here only has three of a kind. He beat you with a royal bluff.”
Roland still did not look down at the cards. He continued to stare at Hugo, who continued to laugh.
“Oh, he won, alright. He won the best prize ever!” Hugo told Roland. “See this right here?”
Hugo had reached into the money pot,
sifting through the bills he’d thrown down. “This here, this little slip of paper, is a promissory note.”
“What?” Kip asked. “You put up the money for the bet. Why add a promissory note in, too? Have you been drinking, old man?”
Hugo shook his head, one tear running down his face as he continued to chuckle. “It’s fake. All of it is fake! Got it from some sailor a few months ago. Should have known the bastard was crooked from the start. Who the hell would pay all that money for one of Val’s pictures? Just ridiculous!”
“You tryin’ to cheat us old man?” Reece asked. “We play an honorable game here.”
Now Hugo was standing and nodding. “I know. I know. The prince, especially, is honest and loyal. All of the DeSaunters are. Ain’t that correct?” he asked with another nod.
Roland was feeling uneasy now. Actually, he was quite irritated.
“I got your winnings, though,” Hugo told him. “I got the payment you deserve. Don’t you worry. Come on, follow me.”
Reece and Kip looked at Roland questioningly. Roland didn’t hesitate, but stood and followed the old man down a short hall.
“I wouldn’t cheat you, Your Highness. No, not at all. I’m an honorable man, too. Just like my daddy before me and his before him. We’ve been on Grand Serenity since the beginning and we do what’s right. We keep our word,” Hugo told him. “Unlike others.”
Hugo said the last word as he turned the knob on a door at the end of the hallway.
“Your prize, Prince Roland,” Hugo said, and motioned for Roland to enter.
The scream that greeted Roland before he could even take a step was ear shattering. The curses that followed were fluent and angry.
The half-dressed woman spouting the saucy words was...for lack of a better word...impressive.
* * *
Why had she let her father borrow her car? Why had she agreed to stay at his house tonight while he went out on yet another crazy chase for fortune and fame? Why, oh why, was this her life?
Valora “Val” Harrington had asked herself these questions over and over as she reached for her bag and began to change out of the uniform she wore while working as a tour guide at the Serenade Museum. She’d worked there for the last three years in lieu of pursuing her dream to become an artist. But that was only partially true. Val was an artist. Her paintings were far better than a good number of the ones hanging in the museum. The only things she was missing were an agent and high-paying clients clamoring over them.
