The Exiled Prince

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The Exiled Prince Page 15

by Jeana E. Mann


  “I apologize for the interruption,” he said to me, shutting off his phone and placing it in his shirt pocket. “You were telling me about your aunt. Please continue.”

  “I’m worried about her. She depends on me, and I’m afraid I’ll let her down.”

  “The girl I know will do everything in her power to get her way. You can do this, Rourke.” His soft words of encouragement settled around me like a blanket.

  “It’s not always under my control. Not everyone has access to the same resources as you.” I turned my gaze back to the window and fought the bitter taste in my mouth. “Money talks, and I don’t have much.”

  “Money isn’t always the answer.”

  We rode in silence for a few blocks. I had no idea how to reconcile this man with the one who’d yelled at me for putting yellow mustard on his sandwich. His unnerving stare swept over me, centering on my face until heat scalded my cheeks. A million questions flitted through my head, begging to be answered, but I bit my lower lip and held them in. The uncertainty of where we stood—where I stood—festered until I couldn’t breathe.

  “Is there something you want to say, Ms. Donahue?” Amusement curled one corner of his lips.

  “I need to know where we stand,” I said, fidgeting in the seat, unable to contain my burning curiosity one more second. “What happened last night? What does this mean?”

  “Excuse us, Jose.” With a press of a button, he raised the partition. Since my employment, I’d grown accustomed to the constant company of drivers, security, and servants. They melted into the background of my life like the white rolling clouds and clear-blue sky outside the car. “Talk.”

  With deliberate slowness, I donned my sunglasses to hide my thoughts from his shrewd gaze.

  He touched my elbow, the warmth of his fingertips sizzling on my bare skin. “Don’t hide your eyes from me.” Strange words coming from a man who hid everything from everyone.

  I lowered my hand anyway and met his gaze. “Aren’t you a little freaked out about our situation?”

  “No.”

  “We kissed last night, and this morning you’re acting like nothing happened.”

  “Because nothing did happen.”

  “Maybe it was nothing to you, but I don’t go around kissing my employers.”

  “We’ve done a lot more than kiss.” His jaw tensed, becoming more square and prominent. “Or have you forgotten? Because I haven’t. I remember every bit of how it felt to be inside you, your taste, your smell. I remember it very well.” He passed a hand through his hair, mussing the perfect strands into spikes. The artful disarray contrasted with the controlled lines of his suit.

  I dragged the tip of my tongue across the dry expanse of my lower lip. He remembered everything. Hearing his words brought back memories of that night—the dew on the grass, the smell of smoke and his cologne, the black velvet Surrey sky strewn with stars. “I haven’t forgotten. But what happened, it changes everything.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” A touch of anger simmered beneath his cool tone.

  “Why would I talk about it? You made it very clear that confidentiality was of the utmost importance. And, in my defense, a visit to The Devil’s Playground is hardly subject matter for a job resume.” His nostrils flared with an elaborate exhale. “You could have said something instead of letting me sweat all this time.”

  “As I recall, you’re the one who walked—excuse me—ran away from me that night. You made me promise not to follow you or look for you. You insisted that we couldn’t continue with the relationship. Your words. Not mine.”

  “There was no point. I was returning to New York. You’re a billionaire, and I’m a working-class girl. In case you haven’t noticed, our lives are worlds apart. And I didn’t know I’d be working for you. If I had, I’d never—” I lifted a hand, intending to plead my case. He caught my wrist, encircling my fragile bones with his thumb and forefinger.

  “Never what?” My focus fell to his lips, while my ears rejoiced over the deadly seduction in his voice. “Come to work for me? Have sex with me in a secret room of a medieval castle?” I nodded, unable to speak or look away from his haunting eyes. “But you did, my beautiful Cinderella, and I think you liked it.”

  “Yes,” I whispered, aware of how the confession blurred the lines between propriety and desire.

  “And now we deal with the consequences. There are decisions to be made.”

  “Which are?” The pad of his thumb swept over the back of my hand. The caress traveled all the way to my core.

  “We have three choices. Do we continue what we started that night, do we put it behind us and continue like nothing happened, or do we go our separate ways?” The intensity of his stare sent a ripple of excitement through my body. His index finger tapped my wrist. “I’ll leave the decision up to you.”

  My heart beat wildly in my chest. Continue? He wanted more? In my wildest dreams, I never thought continuing would be an option. At best, I thought we might resume our work relationship under strained circumstances. I never dreamed he’d want to see more of me in a personal capacity. “When you say ‘continue,’ do you mean just the sex part or something more?”

  His thumb continued to stroke my hand. “I’m open to negotiations on all fronts.”

  Chapter 26

  Rourke

  Four months ago, I’d had an intimate encounter with a mysterious stranger. If I’d known then the many ways it would change my life, I’d have done it again in a heartbeat. Sitting in the car with him, smelling his cologne, feeling the effects of his testosterone on my body, opened up a new world for me. His liquid-blue irises brimmed with heat and desire and fear. The sensation of power and control buoyed my confidence. This man could buy anything he wanted, yet he desired me.

  “I’m not sure what I want,” I said, and it was the truth. The complications of a relationship with my employer and a man of secrets carried a lot of risks for my career and my heart.

  “I know I’m not an easy person to work for.” I snorted at his words, and he shot me a dirty smirk. “My expectations are high. I demand a lot from my employees and even more from my friends.” He rolled his lips together, drawing my gaze to their fullness and making me want to taste them again. “Any woman who’s with me has to be prepared to make some concessions. But if you’re willing to take a chance, I’d like very much to know you better.”

  The ache in my chest spread into my lungs. He seemed uncertain, almost fearful of my rejection. I stroked my fingertips along the side of his face. He closed his eyes, his breath stuttering when my touch reached the curve of his jaw. “I need to think about it.”

  “Take your time,” he said. The pulse above his collarbone fluttered. I wanted to lay my lips on it, to taste the salt of his skin. Jose’s voice floated over the intercom.

  “Mr. Menshikov, sorry to interrupt. We’re about five minutes away.”

  “Thank you.” The muscles in his throat constricted as he swallowed. I drew my hand away and relaxed into the seat. A subtle shift occurred in his demeanor. The line of his jaw tensed. His shoulders straightened, chest broadened. He twitched the knot in his tie and glanced at his wristwatch. “Right on time. When we get upstairs, I want you in the conference room with me to take notes. Keep an eye on Gaylord, the CFO. He’s a slimy bastard. Whenever he’s stressed, his left eye twitches. And be careful what you say. None of these people can be trusted. Got it?” The vulnerability in his eyes disappeared, replaced by shrewd intellect and a predatory gleam. He grabbed the handle of his briefcase. The car stopped in front of the building. He shifted in his seat, preparing to exit, but stopped to look at me.

  “Yes. Got it.” I nodded, thinking he wanted affirmation.

  “Brandy,” he said. I bristled at the thought of the pretty girl and their night together, my fingernails digging into the leather seat. “And the condoms. I didn’t fuck her.”

  Jose opened the door, and Roman got out, leaving me behind to process what he
’d just said.

  “Coming?” Roman extended a hand to help me from the car. I took it; my fingers grazed over his palm, sending tremors of delight along my nerve endings.

  The opportunity for questions escaped before I drew my next breath. He dropped my hand and strode into the lobby. We rode the elevator in silence. There were too many people to allow for private conversation. I stared at his reflection in the stainless-steel elevator doors. He stared back.

  A dozen board members greeted us in the conference room. They stood when Roman entered. While he shook hands and accepted introductions, I settled our things at the table and went for coffee. When I returned, he pulled out my chair for me but didn’t acknowledge my presence in any other way.

  Gaylord sat to my left and dropped a hand onto my forearm. He was shorter than me, immaculately dressed in a navy suit. He smiled at me with small, yellowish teeth. “Get me a coffee, would you, honey?”

  Roman had been conversing with the woman to his right. Hearing Gaylord’s request, he turned to face us. Beneath the table, his hand found my thigh and squeezed, preventing me from moving. “Stay.”

  “I don’t mind,” I said.

  “No. You work for me.” His eyes narrowed, but his next words were for his colleague. “Get your own coffee, Gaylord.”

  “I just assumed,” he asked, but he withdrew his hand from my arm.

  “Well, don’t.” Roman’s lethal tone brought the conference room to a standstill. “Ms. Donahue is here to assist me, not fetch your coffee. You’ll treat her with respect.”

  The color drained from Gaylord’s face. I almost laughed out loud. He swallowed and cleared his throat before glancing nervously at me. “I apologize, Ms. Donahue.”

  “Apology accepted,” I said, giving him a tight smile.

  For the rest of the day, everyone tiptoed around Roman. By reproaching Gaylord, he’d set the tone for the meeting and had established himself as the alpha. While I took notes, I studied the way he manipulated the conversations. Not only was he handsome and smart, but he understood human nature and used it to get what he wanted. Every minute we spent together peeled away another layer of his personality and added to the intrigue.

  At the end of the day, he ushered me downstairs to the waiting car. With his hand on the small of my back, he said, “Jose, we’re going to make a stop on the way home.” He dipped his lips to my ear. The heat of his breath on my earlobe sent gooseflesh rippling down my neck. “Give him your aunt’s address. I want to meet her.”

  The nurses and orderlies stared at Roman as we walked down the dingy corridors to Aunt May’s room. I rubbed my nose, trying to wipe away the stale smell of the facility. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Although he never commented, I could tell by the tight line of his mouth and the sweep of his gaze that he found the place repugnant.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said for the third time, wishing he would have waited in the car.

  “I know that.” We stopped outside her room. He stared down at me before sweeping a lock of my hair away from my face.

  I knocked on the door. Aunt May sat in a chair facing the window.

  “Hi, Aunt May. How are you?”

  Her blue eyes carried a blank stare, one I’d never seen before. “I’m fine. Thank you. How are you?”

  “I’m good.” I dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “This is my boss, Roman.”

  “Nice to meet you,” he said. They shook hands, but I could tell something was off by the tilt of her head. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about you,” he continued.

  “You have?” For the briefest moment, her gaze brightened. Two seconds later, the spark flickered and extinguished. She studied my face. “Who are you again?”

  Her question sliced into me like an icy dagger. I’d been dreading this moment since she’d received her diagnosis three years ago. Now that the time had come, I didn’t want to believe it. “I’m Rourke, your niece. Martha’s daughter?”

  “Martha has a daughter?” Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. She shook her head and laughed. “Oh, that’s priceless. Martha’s too young to have a daughter. She can’t be more than twenty.”

  I stared at her, stunned, my heart breaking in two. She was my only link to my parents, the last piece of family in my life. If she didn’t remember me, then I didn’t exist anymore. “No. I’m Rourke. Remember?” I clasped her hand in mine. The polite smile on her face had been reserved for strangers, and now it was meant for me—a stranger.

  “She’s been like that for a few days now.” An orderly entered the room, pushing a tray of beige-colored food on a cart.

  “Why didn’t someone call me?” Tears blurred my vision.

  Roman smoothed a hand over my shoulder and down my back.

  “There’s nothing you can do,” the orderly said with a shake of her head.

  “You’ll have to excuse me. It’s time for dinner.” Aunt May turned back to the window, uninterested in the food or me. “Thank you for stopping by. What was your name again?”

  “Rourke,” I said through a throat clogged by emotion.

  Roman led me to the car. I held it together until the door shut behind us. Once we were inside, I fell apart. The sobs came in a rush, one after another, shaking my body. I buried my face in my hands, not wanting him to see my breakdown but unable to control it.

  “Hey, hey.” In an instant, he was across the car, pulling me into his arms and cradling me like a small child. His big hands smoothed my hair. Twice I felt the brush of his lips on my temple. “It’s okay. Go ahead and cry. Let it all out. I’ve got you.”

  I cried from one side of the city to the other. My tears made a dark, wet circle on his jacket. The unfairness of the situation hurt my heart. Aunt May didn’t deserve this, and there was nothing I could do. Even though I’d been preparing myself for this day, I had no idea how much it would hurt to sit at her side and watch the once-vibrant woman fade away.

  “I’m sorry.” A trail of wetness traced down my cheeks. I pulled away, embarrassed by the outburst. Somehow, I’d moved to his lap, buttressed by his hard chest and two strong arms.

  “Don’t apologize. I’m feeling a little misty-eyed myself.” With the corner of his silk handkerchief, he dabbed at my tears then tweaked my nose. “Blow.”

  I did as he requested then tried to salvage the last of my mascara. “No one carries handkerchiefs anymore.” My voice shook, weakened by the outpouring of feelings.

  “Call me old-fashioned.” The humor in his tone brought my gaze up to his. Warmth lightened his features. The pain in my chest ebbed. “Better?”

  “Yes. Thank you. I—I don’t usually break down like this.” In fact, I never cried in front of anyone, not even Everly. The release of emotion left me raw and exhausted. Awareness of his body dawned. He was big and male and strong. In his arms, I felt safe.

  “When I’m upset, I usually throw things,” he said.

  “I know.”

  “You should try it sometime.” His hand rested on my knee. He squeezed. An immediate pulse of desire hit between my legs. Lord have mercy, he smelled good enough to eat. I sucked in a breath, slid from his lap onto the seat, and adjusted my clothes.

  “I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to put some emotional distance between us.

  Jose came around the car to let us out. Instead of striding ahead, leaving me at the curb, Roman kept pace at my side and waited for me to board the elevator before entering. When we reached the penthouse, he hesitated in the foyer.

  “I’m going to go change clothes. Do you need anything?” I asked. Usually, after work, he went straight to his study and stayed there to tie up loose ends and prepare for the upcoming day.

  “Have dinner with me.” His hand found mine, large palm sliding over my small one, lighting my nerve endings on fire.

  “I don’t know.” A hot bath and mindless television sounded like heaven. I needed time to process the events of the day. His close proximity, the headiness of his cologne, the heat of
his body, had muddled my thoughts. “I’m exhausted.”

  “An even better reason to have dinner with me. Go put on your sweats, and when you come back, I’ll have Chef whip up something simple for us. No stress. No work. Just you and me and a nice bottle of wine.” He finished the request with a kiss to the back of my hand.

  If I went back to my apartment, I’d spend the night alone, crying and feeling sorry for myself. No girl in her right mind would turn down dinner with Prince Charming. The feeling of his lips against my skin, warm and soft, and the hopefulness in his eyes broke my resolve. “Alright.”

  Chapter 27

  Rourke

  Thirty minutes later, I walked into Roman’s living room. Soft piano music hung in the air, and the aromas of garlic and oregano wafted in from the kitchen. Through the wall of windows, a starless black sky blanketed the city. It was the first time I’d been there as a guest and not an employee. The shift in status presented the apartment from a new perspective. A nervous flutter in my belly prompted me to stop beside the suede sofa and take a deep breath.

  What was I doing? I’d never taken risks, not because I didn’t want to, but because I’d never been given the opportunity. The moment Roman had walked into my life, all that had changed, and I liked it. Despite my anxieties, I wanted to see where fate might lead me, and I was willing to accept the consequences.

  Ivan met me at the base of the staircase. His black gaze traveled over my T-shirt and yoga pants. I ran a self-conscious hand through my hair, aware of how this looked.

  “Good evening, Ms. Donahue,” he said, a smug smirk on his lips.

 

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