by Mia Taylor
She felt lightheaded and weak but she ensured she was out of view before sagging against a wall to regain her composure.
So what if it was only a half truth? He doesn’t know that. My dad is the chief and I did record his words on my phone. The driver doesn’t know that I won’t follow through. Or rather, if I did follow through, Damon would snort at me for being so stupid and lecture me for having a job that late at night.
She could almost hear his mocking tone in her mind’s ear.
“Well, that will teach you to take rides from strange men in the middle of the night, won’t it, dumbass? Maybe you should get a better job.”
My father, the protector of the public, she thought wryly, turning to take the stairs up to her unit. He wouldn’t give two shits if his daughter was attacked by anyone.
But she was used to it, wasn’t she? Damon had never been there for her, not once, not ever.
Her mind tripped back to a time when bullies had followed her home and beat her up on the front lawn. Damon had watched, smirking, from the window, only to lecture her while she was bawling and bloodied.
“I thought I taught you to stick up for yourself,” he laughed. “I bet you won’t let them do that again.”
But they did do it again. And with each torturous fight, Quinn retreated further into herself and away from the outside world.
There was no one to reach for anyway.
You can’t want what you never had, she thought, shaking her head ruefully. Nothing new about knowing he wouldn’t help you if you asked for him on your deathbed.
Quinn wondered then why she was blinking back tears and choking down a lump in her throat.
Get yourself together, she snapped angrily at herself. Forget your daddy issues. You have real adult problems to deal with. Tomorrow you’re giving Spencer your notice.
Chapter Six
Coming to America
The woman smiled beguilingly at him from across the bar and Vivier’s immediate reaction was to turn away. But before he could, he reconsidered. There was something about the alluring redhead which captured his attention.
You shouldn’t be calling attention to yourself, he thought, but he couldn’t seem to pull his luminous eyes away from her beautiful face.
She lifted her tumbler glass in a silent toast and the prince forced a smile, doing the same.
She instantly took it as an invitation to join him and she was on her feet, ambling toward his brooding form in burgundy stiletto pumps which accented her stylish pantsuit. Vivier felt a shiver of pleasure at her closeness.
“Hello, handsome,” she purred, draping an arm about his neck as she claimed the seat at his side. “Where are you coming from?”
Vivier’s mouth parted to answer but he found himself pausing before allowing the words to leave his mouth.
Where am I coming from? he thought, studying the porcelain face of the woman before him.
What could he tell her?
I am the disgraced vampire prince of Luxembourg who has relinquished his right to the throne when he sold the only thing of value to his name and jumped on a commercial flight to America?
Idly, he wondered what the woman would say if he told her such a tale. It didn’t have quite the ring of truth it had when he thought it, although he couldn’t help but wonder what her expression would be if he said the words aloud. Vivier realized she was still staring at him.
“Germany,” he said. “Berlin.”
Her crystalline eyes lit up.
“Oh,” she breathed, placing her pale hand on his arm and staring at him with full lips parted. “I love Europe. I’ve always wanted to see more of it.”
Alarm shot through the prince but he maintained his smile.
Has she been to Luxembourg? Could she know who I am?
There was a reason he had come so far, after all. He had hoped that Americans were as shallow and sheltered as he’d read. He didn’t anticipate being recognized in California.
“Have you been to Germany?” he asked, trying to keep the note of suspicion out of his voice.
“Not yet. Maybe you’ll take me back with you,” she giggled, pressing a hand against the jacket of his suit. Vivier relaxed, realizing that she was no threat at all.
“The night is still young,” he joked. “Who knows where we might end up.”
Her full lips parted and she let out a throaty laugh.
“What are you doing in America?” she wanted to know. He thought quickly, wishing he’d concocted a cover story well in advance. “I am looking to expand my business,” Vivier lied, falling into an unprepared role.
He had not expected having to answer questions so quickly after stepping from the plane. He was tired and caught off guard but the woman at his side seemed to be hanging on his every word.
“What is your business?” she purred. Vivier watched her for a long moment, his tired mind trying desperately to create a tale for her, but he was coming up with nothing. Suddenly, he wished he hadn’t made eye contact with her after all.
Her eyes twinkled mischievously when he didn’t answer.
“I bet you’re in pharmaceuticals, aren’t you? That’s why you’re being so secretive.”
He nodded, grateful to have a lie without putting in too much thought.
“I knew it!” she squealed, appearing very pleased with herself. “I have a nose for these things.”
Vivier sneeringly wondered what else the girl had a nose for as her unnaturally bright eyes searched his face. She was clearly high as a kite.
“I’m Briana,” she told him, leaning in brazenly to kiss his cheek, and suddenly Vivier was nervous.
Does she recognize me? he wondered. Is that why she’s acting so forward?
He reminded himself that he was accustomed to women throwing themselves at him and he knew American women were just as shameless as the vapid countesses he knew from home.
They have no self-respect, he thought scornfully. They don’t think to know a man before hanging off him.
“Marc,” he replied, extending a hand for her to take. She accepted it, her skin soft under his.
“What do you say we get out of here, Marc?”
He peered at her warily.
“Where do you propose we go?” he asked, eyeing her with some desire. He could not deny the surge of heat in his body as he took in her nearly perfect figure and beautiful face.
“Why don’t we get a room?” she suggested, her face inches from his. “You look like you could use a massage after your long flight.”
Another spark of dubiousness struck him but he pushed it aside.
When in America, you must do the Americans, he thought, grinning to himself.
He needed to find a place to stay, after all. A hotel room, hot shower, and massage did not seem like a bad idea.
Vivier didn’t want to stay in San Diego even though he had been sitting in the hotel bar for almost three hours, debating his next move.
On one hand, it was big enough that he could fall into the crowd easily, but on the other hand, if his parents ever decided to look for him, there would be many more faces to identify him. In the cities, facial recognition software was rampant. He knew he would be better off finding a smaller place to settle for a while until he figured out what he was going to do.
I’ll get a room and stay in San Diego tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll head inland and find a more low-key place to settle down.
He admitted he had not given much thought as to where he would end up after the plane landed.
He had sold his Lamborghini, the only asset in his name, to his friend, Pierre, and while he had gotten almost two hundred thousand Euros for it, he knew that would not last him long in any country.
I can barely buy a decent pair of shoes with two hundred thousand Euros, he thought bitterly, the reality of what his parents had done flooding over him shamefully.
“What do you say, Marc?” Briana urged. “Should we get out of here?”
He nodded in agreement, gra
bbing his jacket from the back of the barstool and helping the sensual woman from her seat.
Briana led him toward the exterior.
“There are shuttles which can take you to the nearby hotels. Do you have a preference?” the fire-haired woman asked.
“I don’t care,” Vivier replied honestly. He suddenly realized how tired he was and he was regretting that he had agreed to allow her to come with him.
Maybe I can politely send her on her way, he thought, but another part of him very much wanted to experience her “massage”.
“Let’s do the Aloft,” Briana suggested and Vivier shrugged in agreement. He had no opinion on what bed he would take her within.
Briana babbled pleasantly to him as they boarded the shuttle bus. “You pack light,” she commented. “You’re not staying long?”
“I am not sure,” Vivier replied evasively. “That depends on how things go here.”
“Are you visiting the hospitals?” she pressed and Vivier found himself growing annoyed at the questions.
She would be much more attractive if she spoke less.
He was slightly ashamed of his thoughts. He knew he was cranky from the flight and excitement but he had to admit that Briana was making things more difficult.
“Yes,” he said shortly.
“That’s a big job,” the woman told him. “There are so many in these parts but I still think El Cajon has the best care of anywhere in this area.”
Vivier glanced at her as the shuttle stopped before the Aloft Hotel.
“Why do you say that?”
“I grew up there,” Briana chuckled. “Maybe I’m biased but small towns always seem to be more responsive to… the oddballs in their midst.”
Vivier’s eyebrows raised as he escorted her off the bus.
“Oddballs?” he echoed. “I do not know that term.”
Briana laughed.
“Um… outsiders, people who the rest of society doesn’t seem to accept,” she told him.
“Ah.”
“Unfortunately, my family didn’t feel the same. I can’t show my face back in that town.”
Vivier didn’t bother to ask why, even though he could see Briana felt the need to tell him.
Instead he stepped up to the hotel clerk and asked for a room.
He paid in cash, leaving the pseudonym of Marc Reich, and to his surprise, they didn’t press him for identification when they saw the wad of cash in his wallet.
Silently, he allowed Briana into the elevator, already imagining what she was going to taste like, but before he could make his move, she pounced on him, her tongue slipping into his mouth without warning.
Vivier was momentarily stunned by the incredibly brazen act but he did not pull away. He found himself pressed up against the elevator mirror, Briana ripping savagely at his shirt buttons
“Wait!” he laughed, stunned to find he was embarrassed, the elevator rising higher. “I’m going to be naked by the time we reach our floor.”
She paused to stare up at him, her icy blue eyes wide with amusement.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she said teasingly.
“Excuse me, sir!”
The voice filled the lift and both Vivier and Briana jumped guiltily. They spun to look at the speaker.
“What is it?” Vivier demanded.
“The elevator is not for that sort of activity!” the concierge growled and Vivier’s head jerked upward toward the camera.
I need to be more careful. I’m going to get caught here on my first night.
He smiled and waved sheepishly at the camera.
“We gave them a show,” he laughed and Briana smiled weakly, collecting herself as the elevator doors opened.
They did not exchange another word as Vivier allowed them into room 1101, throwing his suitcase aside.
He eyed the room critically, cringing slightly.
It was unlike any other place he had stayed.
This is a slum, he thought angrily, but he did not show his displeasure.
“Why don’t you go have a shower and I’ll give you that massage I promised you,” Briana told him, sinking onto the bed.
Her demeanor had changed slightly and Vivier wondered if she was put off by being caught kissing in the elevator.
“Are you all right?” he asked quickly, studying her face. She nodded reassuringly and forced a smile.
“Have a drink,” he told her, stripping off his pants and shirt before heading into the bathroom. “I’ll be right out.” He partially closed the door and ran the water, waiting as steam overtook the bathroom.
This is not so bad, he tried to tell himself as he stared at the generic shower curtain and soap wrapped in cheap paper.
Anyway, I am only staying here for one night. I’ll find better accommodations tomorrow. One night won’t do any harm.
He forced himself to stop thinking about tomorrow.
I have enough to worry about for a while. I deserve one night with a beautiful woman before I have to deal with reality.
Not for the first time since he had left, he wondered what he was trying to prove by leaving Luxembourg.
It is not like Papp and Mamm will care. They’re probably glad that I decided to leave. It was probably Papp’s plan all along, knowing how angry I would be. Well, I’ll show them. I don’t need their damned money or my title. I will make it without them. I’ll have the last laugh and they will have no successor.
He could not alleviate the anger which seemed to be growing in the pit of his stomach.
Do they even realize I am gone yet? he wondered.
Pierre had stared at him as if he had grown another head when he dropped the keys off the previous day.
“Cut me a check for one ninety and she’s yours,” Vivier told him flavorlessly.
“Um… what?” Pierre demanded. “Are you dying?”
“In a matter of speaking,” Vivier muttered. “Is it a deal or not?”
“Ja! Of course it is!” Pierre exclaimed, writing out a check before Vivier could change his mind. “I can’t wait to show this baby off.”
From Pierre’s, Vivier had taken a taxi to the airport and stared at the flights for a long while.
All he knew was that he wanted to get as far away from the palace as he could and as fast as possible.
If the first flight out had been to the North Pole, Vivier would have taken it.
But it had been to San Diego.
California dreaming, he mused mirthlessly. Let’s see how that works out for me.
With only cash and a single suitcase of clothes and jewelry, Vivier left Luxembourg with his own passport.
He would never admit it but he secretly hoped that his parents would come for him and admit their mistake, and they would forget about the entire affair. But after the gruelling sixteen-hour journey, Vivier realized that he had done something childish, although he would never say it to anyone.
No, the only way to make this right is to show them that I can make it without them. And I will. It’s high time I got out on my own. There’s no place for me there anyway. They will rule forever and I will always be their happy-go-lucky son.
He just hoped he could follow through with his intentions.
I will take the little bit of money I have and find a place to live in a smaller town. Maybe that El Cajon place which Briana spoke about, he thought idealistically as he turned off the water. She seemed quite fond of it. What did she say? It takes kindly to “oddballs”. I probably have enough money to sate me until I find a high-paying job. But where should I work? I’ll talk to her about it and maybe she’ll give me some ideas.
As he toweled himself off, he wondered if his degree at the Luxembourg School of Finance would serve him well in America.
It will if I tell them who I am, he thought, but he was torn.
If he cashed in on his name, it would be cheating. It would prove nothing and the escape from his native country would have been for nothing.
No, Vivie
r Diederich is the Prince of Luxembourg. I am Marc Reich, Berliner and…?
He knew he was going to have to create a better cover story.
Maybe Briana would help him with that too.
He opened the door and called out.
“I have a favor to ask of you,” he told her as he stepped into the room, a cloud of steam following him as he moved. “Would you…”
He trailed off, realizing that he was alone in the room. His eyes narrowed in confusion.
“Briana?”
It didn’t take much to see that Briana was not there.
His brow furrowing, Vivier stepped toward the balcony and peered out the window, wrapping the towel firmly about his lean hips.
I told her to make a drink. Perhaps she went to get ice…
But the ice bucket remained untouched on the dresser, and with a growing dread, Vivier leaned down to pick up his pants.
His identification was intact but his canceled credit cards were gone as was all the cash he had there.
He whirled to look at his suitcase, bile rising to his throat.
It had been opened and rifled through, but as Vivier searched, only half of his jewelry had been taken and his passport was in place.
She heard the shower turn off while she was in the middle of it.
All the cash was missing, however, and he sank onto the bed, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. Bile and fury threatened to choke him.
He had been robbed, taken for a fool by a beautiful woman.
So much for taking care of myself, he thought grimly, furious with himself for falling for such an obvious ruse.
He had never been so humiliated in his life.
Chapter Seven
The Queen Worries More
“Your Highness, the council is waiting.”
Isadora did not turn to acknowledge Jacques although she did hear his words. The council seemed unimportant as did most things these days.
“My queen?”
“Yes, Jacques. They can begin without me or wait. Either way, I am in the middle of something right now.”
Jacques paused hesitantly, watching her with a worried expression as she continued to stare out of the balcony doors and into Le Jardin de Luxembourg.
