Taming the Rebel Prince

by Victoria Hart

  “She’s an attorney. She must be smart on some level.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it!” Astrid chortled.

  “Astrid!”

  “You just said my name, did you realize that?”

  “So, I did. Are you telling me you’re jealous of Cordelia?”

  “Yes, and why not?”

  Eric reached out and slowly removed her glass from her hand, setting it down beside her. “You shouldn’t be jealous. She’s just another pretty girl – one I will forget just as soon as I leave this island, but you…you, I will never forget, not as long as I live.”

  “Why should I believe you?” asked Astrid, her pulse quickening.

  “You don’t have to believe me, but you must believe this,” he said, as he gently tilted her chin up, his lips meeting hers. His kiss was passionate, strong and ardent. His muscular arms wrapped around her, drawing her to him. Astrid’s heart raced as she returned his kiss, hungrily tasting his lips, her eyes closed.

  “Look at me. I want to look into your beautiful blue eyes, to remember this when you’ve left me,” he said, stroking her cheek.

  “What makes you think I’m going to leave you?” she whispered.

  “I’m just a rebellious royal to you, but I want to be more, if only you would give me that chance.”

  She didn’t believe him, but as she fell into his embrace, she tried not to think about the future. In only a few days she would return to England and he would be the next king of Rogandal. She doubted she would ever see him again, but as his lips met hers she no longer thought about the uncertain future. All that mattered was the few moments they had together that afternoon. If she couldn’t have him, she would have these memories to cherish for the rest of her life.

  Chapter 11

  Jazz music played softly in the background as Astrid laughed at Prince Fayed’s anecdote about racing in Baja in his teens. The moonlight sparkled on the champagne in her glass as she raised a toast to the handsome prince.

  “Your Highness, what would I have done without you? A toast to you, my old friend.”

  “Astrid, you must drink for us both, but in my heart I raise a glass to you. I would not be the man I am today if it wasn’t for your expert tutelage.”

  Astrid nearly collapsed into unladylike laughter as she answered. “Expert tutelage? I was the meanest nanny you ever had, hired to make a prince out of you. You hated me, remember?”

  “Ah yes, you have reminded me. Tell me why I have assisted you in this endeavor?”

  Raising an eye brow, Astrid replied, “Because I always find a way to get you out of trouble, and you are a good man.”

  “Yes, that must be the reason. And your new friend, how is he doing?” Prince Fayed asked as he nodded towards the ballroom.

  From her vantage point on the moonlit marble patio of Prince Fayed’s royal residence in Dubai, Astrid peered into the ballroom. Gilded chandeliers sparkled overhead, priceless rare marble columns lined the room and supported the stained-glass ceiling, a dome of cut glass that rivaled many churches. A jazz band played music from the stage, with an American pop star at the mic. Still, Prince Eric seemed to be the center of attention.

  Astrid was pleased that, unlike his normal antics and drunken revelry, at this charity ball he was not only behaving as a prince, but he was making important connections with other royals. Astrid felt a pang of jealousy as Princess Serena Razia flirted openly with him, her laughter as melodic as the tinkling of ice in Prince Fayed’s glass.

  “I would have to say he’s doing rather well. This night has been a lifesaver for us, how fortunate that you were planning a ball to support refugee children.”

  “A lucky coincidence. I have made it my life’s work to raise funds and donate to those in need, and Eric is a favorite of the press, is he not?”

  “Yes, he does attract attention wherever he goes – at least tonight it’s for the right reasons,” she said, smiling at the handsome young prince at her side. Astrid was unable to look at Fayed for more than a moment – his gaze was too familiar. “I may never be able to repay your kindness, Fayed.”

  “There is no need. If I may be of service, please, you call me.”

  Fayed was joined by an Italian countess and her younger husband. Astrid excused herself to check on her charge. Walking across the ballroom floor, Astrid could hear Princess Serena’s laughter, a sound that reminded her that soon, this job would be at an end and Prince Eric would be seeking a wife among his own class.

  But for tonight, the band played soft jazz, and warm breezes scented with jasmine floated in from Fayed’s gardens through the open windows of the ballroom. Tonight was far too pleasant, Astrid thought, to be burdened by the inescapable future. Tonight, she wanted to enjoy the music, the champagne, and watching Eric finally becoming the prince he was born to be.

  Astrid made her way through the crowd, a mixture of royalty, the wealthy and beautiful of the world, and assorted celebrities. She was struck by how easily Eric seemed to blend in to these surroundings. His aristocratic features, naturally debonair manners, and powerful charisma drew people to him, especially attractive women.

  Princess Serena was firmly entrenched at Eric’s side. A wealthy, stunningly beautiful daughter of a Romanian film actress and Jordanian royalty, she was dazzling this evening. She wore a sleek, midnight blue evening dress, a priceless necklace of sapphires and diamonds around her slender neck, and her dark hair fell to her waist in long curls.

  Astrid, in her tailored ivory gown, diamond dangle earrings, and tidy updo suddenly felt plain compared to Serena’s exotic beauty. It was an uncommon sensation for Astrid to feel self-conscious about her fashion choices or her appearance, but she doubted any woman would feel beautiful compared to Serena.

  Approaching the crowd gathered around Eric, Astrid intended to check on his progress and to help him steer clear of any catastrophe if there was disaster in the making, but tonight Eric seemed to be in complete control. Standing unobtrusively on the outskirts of the well-heeled group of Eric’s new friends, Astrid sipped champagne and tried to blend in, but Eric noticed her presence immediately.

  “Lady Willoughby, there you are,” he said with a wide smile.

  All eyes turned to her, expectantly, as though she was about to give a performance or say something profound. Instead, she merely smiled and replied, “Your Highness,” with a tilt of her head.

  “Now that you’ve joined me, I was hoping you would do me the honor of the next dance?”

  “Yes, Your Highness, it would be my pleasure,” she answered, ignoring the glare of the Jordanian princess and several other well-dressed ladies in his entourage.

  “The music is starting, shall we?” he asked, leading her to the dance floor, looking over his shoulder at the women they left behind.

  Astrid laughed softly at him. “Your Highness, are you fearful you are being stalked? Do you feel like prey? Shall I summon security?”

  “I do feel like prey. You didn’t warn me about these women at these events. I never realized I was viewed as a piece of meat, and they are sharks.”

  “I doubt it’s a new thing; this may be the only ball where you were sober enough to know what was happening. With your charisma and handsome face, I am sure women have been throwing themselves at you for years.”

  “They are beautiful, but I don’t care about them. I only care about you,” he whispered into her ear, and kissed her neck.

  Astrid closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his lips on her skin, but then quickly returned to her senses. “Your Highness, you can’t do that here. You have an image to build. You are to be the next king of Rogandal, and the heir to the throne needs a royal wife. You must be an eligible bachelor.”

  “You told me that once I become king, I can do whatever I want, and that means I will choose whom I want to date.”

  Astrid could feel her heart racing at his words, words that had the potential to break both their hearts if they were not careful. “Eric, you’re not kin
g yet. We have to be very careful not to tarnish your new image, and that means no scandalous relationships with your staff members.” Gazing into his eyes, she said firmly, “I want the entire world to fall in love with you, and for that, you must to be single, and be seen with a princess or duchess. You have to be the world’s most eligible and charitable bachelor, do you understand?”

  “I suppose I do. What about Serena – can I be seen with her?”

  The sound of Serena’s name on the prince’s lips was nearly unbearable to Astrid but she vowed to remain strong, to do what must be done. “Princess Serena has a press following – not always for the right reasons – but she wouldn’t be a bad choice. It would be better to choose a woman with less drama, but eligible royalty is hard to come by.”

  “This is insufferable.”

  “Your Highness, just remember we have several more events to attend in the next week, and then with any luck and a great deal of good press, you’ll be named the successor to the throne.”

  He adjusted his grip on her hand, and she felt his thumb brush lightly along the length of hers. “Astrid, when all this over, I was thinking maybe you and I could get away somewhere, just the two of us. Is that permitted in your line of work?”

  “Eric, I...” She hesitated, deciding what to say. “I should never have kissed you, or…” Astrid couldn’t finish her sentence. It was too personal, and it was admitting too much.

  “Or fallen in love with me, was that what you were going to say? Just tell me. Tell me you aren’t falling for me and I will promise never to speak of it again. I’ll be content to follow your orders.”

  Astrid looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “Eric, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I know that’s why you fought so hard for me. You have feelings for me, and I have feelings for you. We’re a couple, are we not?”

  “Yes, we are, and we can’t be. There’s too much at stake – now follow my orders and ask Serena to dance. Please, for my sake, put an end to her pouting and dance with her. It will be good for your image; she is glamorous and popular.”

  “If you insist. But Astrid, don’t give up on our future. You didn’t give up on me when it counted, so please don’t give up on us.”

  The music ended, and Astrid walked away from the Prince, turning back to see him leading the beautiful Princess Serena to the dance floor. Taking a deep breath, she reached for a glass of champagne from the gold tray held a passing waiter.

  She hadn’t wanted to mention it to Eric, but she had crossed the line once before with a previous employer. She’d learned the hard way how difficult it was to say goodbye, and it was a feeling she couldn’t bear to relive with Eric.

  The princess’s laughter floated on the breeze like the scent of jasmine as Astrid walked to the garden to be alone.

  * * *

  Prince Eric made the headlines, this time for his attendance at Prince Fayed’s charity ball. Pictures of Princess Serena draped across Eric’s arm were front page news in the entertainment and society pages for days. Two days after Eric’s vindication of all charges in Grenada, he was enjoying unprecedented adoration and accolades in newspapers around the world and online. As Astrid scanned the internet gossip, she was struck by how quickly his sister was losing favor, in direct contrast.

  That fact was not lost on the king of Rogandal, or so Astrid could only assume when she answered his call.

  “Lady Willoughby, what is the meaning of this?” he bellowed into the phone.

  “Your Majesty?” she answered innocently. She’d been expecting a response from the king. He was not a man who liked to be kept in the dark and she had succeeded at doing just that.

  “You have a great deal of explaining to do, do you hear me? Is this what I am paying you for? I demand an answer at once!”

  Astrid held the phone away from her ear, glancing at the closed door to the bedroom. Eric was still asleep and Astrid did not want to disturb him. Walking out to the balcony, she sat down on the cushioned settee and gazed into the shimmering pool below in Fayed’s garden as she collected her thoughts.

  “Your Majesty, I regret that I did not inform you of my actions, all my actions, but I assure you they were necessary.”

  “Necessary? What of my daughter, her reputation, and this preposterous story of her engagement?”

  “I assure you, I have credible sources. Have you seen the headlines about your son? Vindicated in every way. I would say that is an achievement. The press loves him.”

  Her answer was met by silence. She could hear the king breathing but he didn’t speak, so she waited patiently. “Yes, you have done well where my son is concerned, but my daughter is devastated.”

  “Not likely. You must understand she was responsible for your son’s incarceration in Grenada, and also for the leaks to the press. You told me that you wanted your son to inherit the throne. I am making that a possibility.”

  “At what cost?” demanded the king.

  “In a game such as this, the stakes and the costs run high. Your daughter is only tasting a sample of what she has dished out for years. I do have to warn you that until you name Eric as your successor, you may be in for a few more nasty surprises.”

  “Are you blackmailing me?”

  “Your Majesty, you are already paying me a substantial sum, and I have no desire to blackmail you. You must not concern yourself with me. I only wanted to prepare you for the reality that your daughter and your son will continue this fight until you name a successor – or have I proven Eric’s worth?”

  The king made an impatient sound. “Eric acted like a prince for a day, but can he do that again? I will not take the chance that he is one drinking binge away from embarrassing me and his country again. No, Lady Willoughby, I am not convinced. Not yet.”

  “Very well, Your Majesty, but bear in mind, you chose to prolong your decision so you must accept the consequences. Your daughter is not going to give up the throne without a fight – I only hope you are prepared to clean up the mess.”

  “Lady Willoughby, I do realize that having the charges dropped in Grenada was the result of your hard work, but you must understand, it is not you I doubt, but Eric. When I am confident that he deserves this throne, then he may have it. There is still time. But you must promise me, no more surprises.”

  “I am not able to do that, Your Majesty. It is now entirely in the hands of Eric and Eirinia.”

  As Astrid powered off the phone, she watched the palm trees swaying in the breeze and tried not to think about the coolly dangerous Princess Eirinia. She had warned the king that his daughter was not going to surrender the throne easily; unfortunately, she suspected she would soon find out how hard the princess was willing to fight for it. Astrid just hoped that when Eirinia struck back, that she and Eric would be prepared with a counterattack.

  Astrid called her contact in the intelligence office. She needed intel on the princess, a project she left in her contact’s hands. Astrid could not shake her growing suspicion about the way the princess remained in seclusion, hiding from the press. Astrid could feel trouble brewing; she just hoped she would have the upper hand when disaster struck.

  Her contact promised to call back as soon as he had any details that were solid. He said he was following a lead but he needed more time. Astrid knew that time was the one commodity she was running out of.

  She returned to her laptop, searching the news feeds for any information on the princess and Ben. Every headline alluded to Ben’s guilt and the princess’s implied complicity in the matter. There were rumors and speculation, but Eirinia had not yet spoken to the press, even as Ben was arrested and extradited back to Grenada. She did not accompany him or release a comment from her press office. The longer she remained cloaked in silence, the more uneasy Astrid became.

  * * *

  Prince Eric’s appearance at the charity ball in Dubai was the beginning of a whirlwind publicity tour expertly planned by Astrid. It included press con
ferences, glitzy charity functions, and a sprinkling of the arts and diplomacy. She had called in several favors, hoping this gamble would be successful. Eric needed to rebuild his image quickly – they had no time to spare.

  As the private jet, registered to the kingdom of Rogandal, touched down on the runway of the Charles De Gaulle International Airport, Astrid was prepping Eric on last minute dos and don’ts when conversing with the press.

  “Don’t forget to be polite, no matter how rude they might be. Be confident, and think as a politician would.”

  “Be polite and smile,” he said as he reached for her, pulling her towards him.

  “Your Highness, none of that. Smile, use your charisma, and be charming. Use your strengths. Think of the press as a girl you want to impress.”

  “I do want to impress a girl. She won’t allow it, though,” he said, gazing at her with mock indignation.

  “Are you prepared to answer questions about your previous activities, your drunken escapades and other embarrassing episodes from your past?”

  “No, I’m not ready, but I will smile, be gracious, and admit I have seen the error of my ways.”

  “Good. I’ll be at your side, but you have nothing to worry about. Everyone likes you right now. You are popular and attractive, so use this to your advantage.”

  The airplane taxied to the hangar. Government officials met the prince and his staff, welcoming him to Paris. Limousines carried them through the City of Lights accompanied by a police motorcade while the afternoon slid into evening. As predicted, a small army of press met the prince at the entrance of the hotel, an arrangement that was not accidental.

  Astrid could easily have organized a less conspicuous entrance for Eric at the Paris Plaza but she wanted the press to see him, to splash his picture across every newspaper in the country. She needed the world to adore the prince, to hungrily gobble up every little detail about him. If she could create a demand for his face, his interviews, and his appearances, then it would impossible for the king to refuse to name him in the succession.