Taming the Rebel Prince

by Victoria Hart

“Please, do what you can to control the fallout of this debacle. I grant you full diplomatic power to do whatever is necessary to rectify this situation. I will prepare a statement for the press, if it comes to that.”

  Astrid picked up her phone and scanned the headlines. “Your Majesty, you’d better prepare that statement quickly, because he just made the international news feed.”

  * * *

  The weather in Grenada was a shock to Astrid as she stepped off the private jet at the airport. The temperature was ninety degrees Fahrenheit, and a warm breeze blew into the hangar where she was met by officials of the country, and a limousine. She considered allowing the prince to languish in jail, and fought the desire to see him at once. Stepping into the limousine, she decided that a few more hours in jail may prove beneficial as she told the driver to take her to the hotel.

  The royal suite at the Palms Hotel boasted a magnificent view of the ocean, a bar, and a private swimming pool. Astrid considered taking a dip in the pool to soothe her tired muscles, but she realized that would have to wait until after the enormous amount of damage was under control.

  Astrid popped into the shower and dressed quickly. Her first order of business was to meet with Lord Chatham, a second cousin to her father and head of the department of trade for the island. She hoped he could suggest a strategy, or at least provide a few solid references.

  Lord Chatham met with Astrid at his private residence overlooking a white sandy beach. She was greeted by footman and escorted through the garden and to a red brick patio within a few steps of the beach. A British gentleman, his hair gray at the temples, met her there.

  “Lady Willoughby, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am Lord Chatham.”

  “Lord Chatham, I am delighted to meet you as well. I regret that it is under these circumstances.”

  He motioned for her to be seated. “It is regrettable, which I why I have agreed to meet with you at my home and not the office. We may speak without restraint here, and I fear this may be a candid conversation.”

  “I am prepared for nothing less. I would prefer to speak honestly. And this conversation will be held in the strictest of confidence?”

  “You have my word. I’ve taken the liberty of having tea and sangria brought outside. You may find the view of the ocean relaxing as we discuss this unfortunate incident.”

  “That was very thoughtful of you. I fear that this situation may prove to be out of my depth,” Astrid feigned inexperience as she sat down at the wrought iron table beside Lord Chatham.

  “Yes, this Prince Eric has made quite a mess of things. I won’t lie to you; there has never been such a disastrous or costly incident in the entire history of Grenada Race Week. You must understand that Grenada is a small commonwealth, our biggest exports are nutmeg and mace. After those two sources of income, we rely heavily on income generated by tourism, especially from the wealthy clientele who spend a small fortune at Grenada Race Week. This incident has repercussions beyond the damage of a few rare racing boats.”

  “I understand it is a sensitive situation – the owners represent foreign interest and the reputation of the commonwealth, and the safety record of the regattas was severely damaged by one careless aristocrat.”

  “You understand the situation beautifully. This will not be as simple as a monetary compensation.”

  “I am aware there are other concerns, so what do you advise? I trust you can suggest a strategy.”

  “Your Prince has a horrible reputation. This is not the first time he has disgraced himself and his country. I do not envy you in your task.”

  “Thank you Lord Chatham, I am sure with your guidance, I will find a solution.”

  “Lady Willoughby, I am only meeting with you because of our family’s relationship; kinship cannot be overlooked. I will suggest a strategy but it is imperative that you do not mention my name or my involvement as it may affect my future political career.”

  “I am grateful for any assistance you can provide.”

  Lord Chatham was forthcoming with names and contacts, once again reminding her to leave him out of any and all conversations with the officials on the list he provided. Leaving the meeting, she was certain that this was going to be sticky situation that would depend on several favors, an attorney, and a little bit of luck.

  An hour later Astrid was on the way to the police station to see Eric and to request a copy of the police report. The police report was worth its weight in gold. She had a suspicion she knew the family of Saudi royalty who owned the racing yachts; she just needed to be certain before she made any phone calls.

  Watching the lush tropical scenery glide past her window, she vowed that Eric was the last aristocrat she would ever babysit for the rest of her life. It was disgraceful that he destroyed everything he touched, and now he was ruining any chance that she would enjoy a second of her time in this tropical paradise.

  The limousine driver rolled down the privacy window and asked, “My lady, this limousine is bearing the flags of your nation. Would you prefer that I park in a discreet location?”

  Astrid answered, “I appreciate your concern. Yes, please try to avoid attention.”

  As the limousine passed the police station, she was shocked to see reporters standing outside. She understood now why Lord Chatham did not want to be involved. The driver parked several blocks away and offered to escort her to the station. Ordinarily, she would never have agreed to an escort, but today, she said yes.

  * * *

  Astrid sat in a private room, a room she suspected was an interrogation room, judging by the table, two chairs, and the double-sided glass on one wall. The police report lay on the table in front of her, spread out so she could scan the information quickly.

  From the official report, she discovered that Prince Fayed owned the yachts that sustained the worst of the damage. The prince was a close personal friend of Astrid and an avid collector of boats, race cars, airplanes, and beautiful girlfriends. At eighteen, he had been a wild child on the verge of being disowned by his father. It had been seven years and now the prince was respected, yet he still indulged his wild side by racing anything he could purchase.

  Fayed was young, handsome, and charming, and she was a little relieved to see that he was the person she would be speaking with on the matter. He was challenging and a flirt, but she hoped he would be in a position to pull a few strings. As she considered her strategy, the door opened and an officer escorted Eric into the small room.

  His blond hair was as disheveled as it always was, his eyes were puffy and bloodshot, his clothes wrinkled. Slumping into the metal chair, he did not look like the arrogant man she remembered from their last meeting.

  “Why am I not surprised my father sent you? What are you – the official nanny of Rogandal?”

  “Eric, you are lucky I am here.”

  “What took you so long? I’ve been waiting for hours to get out of here.” He brushed his hair out of his eyes.

  “Eric, it’s not like that. Not this time.”

  Eric scoffed. “My father sent you to get me out of this, right? That is what he is paying you for, isn’t it?”

  “You have misread this entire arrangement. I was hired by your father to prepare you to become king one day. You’ve shown no interest in that, and have done everything you could to demonstrate how little you care for yourself, your family, and your country. I am now acting in a diplomatic capacity. My interest in cleaning up this mess is for the sake of your country, not for you.”

  “So you haven’t come here to get me out of this jam?”

  “You understand. Good, that will be helpful.”

  Eric leaned against the table, glaring at her. “Why in the hell did you come here, if you have no plans to help me? What did you do, come to gloat? I don’t need that – or you.”

  “Yes, you do. You do need me. Your father was prepared to leave you here, to let you sort this out on your own. Clearly that would have been my first choice as well, but I have to think of
Rogandal. For your people, I will do all I can to minimize the impact of this incident, but you, my dear prince, will bear the brunt of it. This time, you will have no choice but to take responsibility.”

  The prince sat back in his chair, seething, and stared at her. Several minutes of awkward silence passed before he spoke. “I have taken responsibility – or didn’t you read that report in front of you?”

  “Oh? How so?” she asked, genuinely interested.

  “I was not the one at the helm when the accident happened – Ben was. I had been drinking and celebrating our win. We all were. Ben was bringing the boat in to the dock and lost control. You know the rest, I assume, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “The police report doesn’t mention a word about Ben.”

  “I doubt it would. I chartered the boat. It was my idea, so I took responsibility when it all went downhill.”

  “Eric, why didn’t you tell the authorities? Where are your friends now? They have abandoned you, leaving you to deal with this. Why are you being loyal?”

  “I don’t know, it’s just who I am. I don’t know why or how to explain it.”

  Astrid sighed in frustration, “Your Highness, your misspent loyalty is going to cost you, me, and the nation of Rogandal. Just come clean about Ben’s involvement and then it becomes his family’s – and his nation’s – problem.”

  “I can’t do that. I know he sold information about me to the press, and I know he’s left me here to take the blame, but there are reasons I can’t explain right now, not here. All I can say is that I owe it to him.”

  Astrid frowned thoughtfully. “Judging from the disaster that he caused, I would say you don’t owe him anything after this. Do you understand how bad this is? Do you have any idea? I can’t just write a check for this and make it go away.”

  “I know you can’t. I’m sorry I demanded you get me out of here. I was rude. Truthfully, I’m glad you’re here. I have a feeling you know what to do in situations like this, better than me.”

  Astrid was touched by his honesty. She had not expected the prince to be humble. Perhaps a good dose of reality was all he ever needed.

  She reached out and patted his hand, a little grudgingly. “Eric, I don’t know why you insist on ruining your life to pay back a friend, but I guess it is noble of you to do so.” She straightened the report and closed the folder.

  “Are you leaving?”

  “No. I could have resigned when you left the palace, but I stayed to see this through. If I didn’t quit then, I guess I won’t abandon you now.”

  His eyes met hers. “No, you haven’t abandoned me, have you? You must be well paid – or very loyal.”

  “I’m both, but money is not my main concern. My family is wealthy and I have no need to work. This is…my gift. My calling.”

  “Your calling. It sounds like a sacred duty.”

  “It is, in a way. I served many families before yours in this capacity. You’ll be my last wayward royal, and I don’t intend to give up easily.”

  Eric slowly placed his other hand on hers, and Astrid blushed as she looked into his eyes. As bloodshot as they were, she was still captivated.

  “If you would let me help you, I think you would be an excellent king for Rogandal. Wouldn’t you be happier on the throne than in a jail somewhere?”

  He looked down. “When I get out of here, we have to talk. I don’t know when that will be, but you and I need to start over. Can we do that?”

  Astrid drew her hand back, wondering if the prince was trying to manipulate her. She let out a humorless chuckle. “Eric, I’m not sure you’re to be trusted – I expect you’d say anything to get out of here. I’ve been instructed to leave you in jail. If I got you out of here, you’d be my responsibility.”

  “I know I’ve given you absolutely no reason to trust me, but please believe me. You have my word that if you get me out of here, I will be on my best behavior.”

  “You sound like a little kid trying to make a deal for a toy.”

  Eric smiled. “Is it working? I can try harder.”

  “Be patient; this may take a couple of days. I can’t promise you anything but I will see what can be done.”

  “Thank you, Willoughby. I am confident you will work your magic.”

  “Your Highness, if I work my magic, as you call it, you must understand this will be the last time. No one is coming to save you anymore – do you hear me?”

  “I do, and I give you my word: this is the last time you, or anyone else, will have to save me.”

  “No matter what strings I pull to get you out of here, you will still be responsible for the accident. Are you prepared to deal with that?”

  “I am. It broke my heart when I saw what Ben did to those beautiful boats. They didn’t deserve to be damaged like that. At least he didn’t kill anyone.”

  Astrid left the jail and rushed through the throngs of reporters back to the limousine. It was going to take more than charm to fix this problem. As the limousine sped through the capital, she dialed Prince Fayed and prayed that he would answer his phone. If she could count on his help, she was confident there was hope after all.

  * * *

  Floating in the pool, Astrid did not feel guilty that she was indulging in a few minutes’ rest and relaxation. During the past week, she had worked tirelessly to clean up the latest and biggest mess that Prince Eric had ever made. As she lay on her back in the cool water under the hot Caribbean sun, she was satisfied with the outcome of her negotiations, and so was the king of Rogandal.

  Prince Fayed had come through in a big way. He had threatened never to set foot on Grenada ever again, and to rethink his involvement with the regattas – and the hotels he was developing – if the local government would not drastically alter its handling of the case against Prince Eric. Fayed’s personal wealth was so vast that he was not concerned with any monetary loss, although his insurance would cover the damage to his boats. He told Astrid he remembered a time not long ago when he had needed a few favors of his own.

  With Prince Fayed squarely in her corner, Astrid was able to negotiate several lesser charges and reduce the enormous fine Prince Eric was facing. She settled the small bills, and had nearly had everything cleaned up, nice and tidy – except for Bruno Klapner, the Australian millionaire. He refused to cooperate and settle out of court. Still, it was an enormous success, and she was pleased with things so far.

  “Hey, you aren’t supposed to be resting on the job. I should report you to my father!”

  Astrid opened her eyes and looked into Eric’s smiling face. He was standing at the side of the pool.

  “For a man who owes me everything, you have no room to talk, none at all. Now be a dear and ask room service for a round of margaritas. I’m in the mood to celebrate.”

  “I didn’t think you celebrated anything. Aren’t you on duty? No drinking on the job.”

  “You’re out of jail and only facing one lawsuit, instead of many. I deserve a margarita.”

  “You won’t get an argument from me. Tell me again why I have to stay with you in your suite?” he asked with a grin.

  “You can stay in my custody or you can return to jail. Which do you prefer? I think you will find the food is much better here at the hotel.”

  “Speaking of food, I may order lunch. Any requests?”

  “Not a one, Your Highness. Order whatever looks good.”

  After her dip in the pool Astrid threw a sundress over her bikini and joined the prince for lunch. She drank the cool, delicious margarita and nibbled on a crudité from the appetizer tray. The prince had not lost his arrogant demeanor, but he treated her with kindness and respect. It was a nice change.

  “Eric, we are finally getting along and I hate to threaten that, but you told me when you were in jail that you owed Ben a debt. What did you mean by that?”

  “It’s not something I find easy to discuss. It is also a part of my life that I am not proud of, and fortunately it never made the papers in a
big way. As far as I know it only made the gossip columns and was easily dismissed. This was many years ago, but I’ve never forgotten how Ben saved my life.”

  “He saved your life? I didn’t know that – what happened?”

  “You may not think of me the same way after I tell you.”

  “Eric, it doesn’t matter what I think about you. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. We all have secrets we keep buried somewhere deep inside, known only to ourselves.”

  Eric gazed at her. “It does matter what you think of me. You may choose not to believe that, but I value your opinion. I prefer when you aren’t scowling at me like a frustrated nanny with disgust written all over your face. Yes, your opinion matters; it matters more than you know.”

  Astrid blushed. She wouldn’t admit it, but she wanted him to care about her. It was girlish and silly, but despite his past behavior, she had a crush on Prince Eric. She tried not to think about it, but it was true. She was falling for the bad boy.

  “I never looked at you like that, did I?”

  “You did, especially in Japan. You were so mad at me.”

  “You must admit that I had every reason to be mad. You acted like an idiot.”

  “I did, I admit that. Just promise me that if I tell you about Ben, you will never look at me the way you did in the back of that limo in Kyoto, ever again.”

  “Well, okay, but you have to promise that you will never act like an immature imbecile again. Oh, and promise to become king of Rogandal, for your father’s sake,” she said with a smile.

  “My father, yes. About my father – he’s not so perfect.”

  “No one ever is. You didn’t agree to my conditions.”

  “I promise to act more mature but I still can’t promise you I will be king. I do promise I will think about it.”

  “You’d better do more than think about it. You and I both owe the royal family of Saudi Arabia an enormous favor.”

  Eric asked, “How do I owe them a favor?”

  “Let’s just say that one of my friends owned two of the yachts Ben damaged, and he is also involved in real estate development here, and all over the world. He was influential in getting you your freedom. As king, you would be in a position to repay that favor one day.”