by A. C. Arthur
Landry had been surprised by what her father had said in reference to the reality TV series. But more so because as she’d been talking to him, she’d moved to the seat that her mother had vacated and started snapping the green beans and dropping them in that same yellow bowl.
“You’re saying I should take advice from the housewives?” she asked because that made more sense than trying to figure out what she was doing with the beans.
“No,” Heinz replied with a hearty chuckle. “Not at all. What your mother and I have built over the course of our marriage is something special and sacred. It’s also been very rewarding for us. Of course your mother would want you to find the same type of commitment for your life. The thing is, what I think you’re missing about the type of marriage that your mother and I have, is that it’s rooted in love. Your mother could not do and say the things she did with regard to our marriage if she didn’t love me with every fiber of her being. For that I am forever grateful as there is no greater love on this earth. As for me, I can only thank the Lord daily for the blessing of my wife. I love her phenomenally and I cherish her. That’s what she wants for you, Landry. That’s what we both want for you.”
Well, that was never going to happen, Landry thought as she pushed away from the door and stepped out of her heels, kicking them across the Aubusson rug.
She reached behind and unzipped her dress as she walked toward the rack where she’d left the hanger. Landry stood in the middle of the fanciest room she’d ever had the pleasure of staying in and stripped the expensive dress off her body. She hung it on the rack once more, traipsed over to the bed and plopped down onto the shiny cream-colored comforter.
She’d thought for sure Kristian wanted to kiss her. Everything about him said so. The way he’d stepped to her and touched her chin. His eyes had grown darker, his lips parted. Well, hers parted first because not only had she assumed he wanted the kiss, she’d been anxious for it as well.
With a heavy sigh she fell back on the bed, one arm going over her eyes, her hand to her stomach as if she could possibly calm the butterflies that still danced happily there. She wanted to kiss the prince. Not the sexy flirtatious one that probably would have easily taken her into his arms and kissed her senseless. No, she had to want the other one. The one who looked at her like she was no better than the rug he stepped on. She hadn’t been here a full twenty-four hours and already she was messing up.
But tomorrow was another day and she needed to get an early start. Malayka was going to be anxious and irritable. Everything would need to be perfect for her first official appearance as Prince Rafferty’s fiancée. So with a resignation to keep her mind on things that it should be on, Landry moved over the bed until she could push down the comforter and slip beneath it and the sheets. Lying on a soft pillow she stared up at the ceiling and attempted to think of the dresses she would pull for Malayka tomorrow. The shoes, earrings, necklace, rings. How her hair would be styled. Makeup soft, or bold?
Those thoughts were quickly replaced by the sights of the windows across the room. Large windows, no curtains, giving a clear view out to the night sky. Dark, but with tiny pricks of light. Stars, Landry thought. There were stars out tonight. What would happen if she wished upon a star?
Not a damn thing, she thought with a chuckle. This wasn’t a storybook and wishes did not come true. Sure, she was lying in a king-size bed, in a room in a palace. Tomorrow morning she would watch a prince announce that he was about to make a woman a princess. A woman, who for all intents and purposes, came from the same place that Landry had. And yes, tonight she’d dined with said prince, plus two more and a princess who smiled easily but managed to run their household and island in grand style.
There was still reality. The one where Landry was a business owner and Malayka was a client. She would do this job and then she would return to LA, to her family and her condo. To her world. The princes and princesses would all remain here in the land that looked to be fresh out of a childhood storybook, but had no place in Landry’s dreams.
Now that was a buzzkill if ever she’d experienced one. Landry turned on her side, closed her eyes and forced them to remain that way. She thought of dresses again, of colors and materials. She did not think about Kristian, or his lips, or how a kiss from him would have tasted. She refused, and that took way more energy than planning a wardrobe for any client ever had.
Chapter 4
Kris watched the taped version of the press conference for the third time. There was a throbbing between his eyes as he hit the stop button on the remote, ending the recording seconds before turning the television off.
He was in his rooms now, two hours after his meeting at the bank had ended. His second meeting of the day had been cancelled and his father had never contacted him about when they would meet today. Kris sat back in the leather chair in the sitting area that he’d turned into an additional office and stared down at his desk. He did not have time for this.
Press conferences about wedding plans, announcements about parties, and yes, the blatant disrespect Malayka had just shown to the local dressmakers, were all among the things Kris did not want to deal with. There were too many more important things for him to occupy his thoughts with. The meeting at the bank and the concern that had been gnawing at him for weeks, for instance.
Grand Serenity Island was an independent territory that had been acquired by the Netherlands in the 1600s. The island did not flourish as the early settlers would have liked because of its dry climate and thus the lack of agricultural prospects. That began to change in the late 1800s when the son of a British sailor named Montgomery Chapman decided there had to be more to this place than gorgeous waters and warm air. Montgomery and his group of slaves discovered the Rustatian Gold Mill, which eventually went on to produce three million pounds of gold. In the immediate years following, the island saw more growth in the building of its first oil refinery, which was also owned by the Chapman family.
By the time Kris’s grandfather, Josef Marquise DeSaunters, gained control of the island via his leadership role in the rebellion against the then ruling tyrant, Governor Marco Vansig, the gold mills and oil refineries were the island’s main sources of income. However, Vansig’s greed and vicious rule had burned many bridges in the trade industry, leaving Josef with no other option than to look for additional opportunities for the citizens of the island to continue to thrive. On the advice of his wife, Josef formed the island’s first tourism board and by the early 1980s, when the oil industry began to wane, tourism became Grand Serenity’s financial savior.
It was Kris’s father, Rafe, who came into rule after Josef’s death from throat cancer. Rafe vowed to continue his father’s vision for the island. Rafe knew the value of forging strong partnerships on and off the island. This led him to venture to the United States where he met with potential developers and owners of the burgeoning cruise lines. This was also where Rafe met his wife, Kris’s mother, Vivienne Patterson, whose father was a Texas oilman.
Kris dragged a hand down his face at the thought. His chest clenched and he spent the next few seconds tamping down the well of emotion that always swelled when he thought of his mother, who had died when Kris was ten years old. When Kris was certain he could concentrate on the pressing matter at hand once more, he opened a large file filled with papers he’d brought back with him from the bank and began sorting them into three piles.
As a young man during his father’s rule, Rafe had begun to amass more fortune for the DeSaunters family by constructing financial institutions. He’d been successful with soliciting wealthy international clients, as well as celebrities, to invest and bank with Grand Serenity as a way of remaining ungoverned by their country’s financial restrictions. This had been the first aspect of governing the island that Rafe had taught Kris. From the time Kris was a young boy, his father had talked of the banks and how they, along with the tourism, would sust
ain the island’s growth, even as the natural resources continued to dwindle.
Thus came his degree in international finance. Kris spent numerous hours a day poring over financial reports and statements from each of the three banks on the island.
Three months ago, Kris had received reports of two new accounts that had been opened with multimillion-dollar deposits. The accounts had continued to see hefty deposits in the following weeks. This alone did not raise any red flags, however it was the signature cards on the account that did.
A. M. Belle Vansig.
The name had immediately struck a chord in Kris’s mind, yet when he’d searched deeper into the account, he hadn’t found any further identifying information for this person.
“You’re not concerned?” he’d asked his father during one of their morning meetings.
“It’s just a name, Kris,” Rafe had responded as he’d scooped spoonful after spoonful of sugar into his coffee.
The strong and stern ruler of the great Grand Serenity Island had a vicious sweet tooth.
“A name that has meaning in our family’s past and the history of this island,” was Kris’s counter.
Rafe shook his head. “Marco Vansig and his army were conquered by my father and his soldiers. Their bodies were burned at sea. Vansig had no wife, no children, nothing but his precious gold, which was turned over to the island treasury department upon his death. He was a dark spot in this island’s history and then he was gone. Now, decades later, you see the name and what? You think Vansig is reaching up from the grave to cause more mayhem?”
Kris had to admit that the idea seemed far-fetched. There were numerous people throughout the world with the same name that had no connection to each other whatsoever. Still, he’d decided to keep an eye on the accounts anyway.
“Nonetheless, I’ve been thinking we should implement a more thorough background check for new account holders. With the rise in criminal activity connecting to offshore accounts, we want to be sure that we’re working on a higher level.”
“Our institutions are not founded on the rules and regulations of other financial facilities. This is why we are able to hold such lucrative accounts. We do not overly tax our customers with paperwork and supervision of their own funds,” Rafe had immediately rebutted.
“I know that we are not regulated by such organizations as the United States Federal Reserve or the European Commission and other such places throughout the world. Our customers run from Russia to South America and we retain their autonomy and confidence by not working in any fashion with these other regulating entities. But that does not mean we do not have our own regulatory process. We should still know who we are doing business with.”
“We do,” Rafe insisted. “There is no need to change the protocols we have in place. It has been working for years.”
“Things change, Dad,” Kris told his father. “You know that as well as I do. I’m just trying to look out for our future. It’s my job.”
Rafe hadn’t disputed that fact. His father had been the one constantly drilling into Kris’s head the importance of his job and his duty. Kris would rule this island and continue what his grandfather and father had built before him. He would not fail. He could not fail.
Just as he could not bring himself to kiss the sexy American last night.
There had been no other reason but his duty. She was a very attractive woman, with a personality unlike the many women who had crossed his path. With Landry Norris there were no pretenses. She had not come into his office batting her eyes, or crossing her bare legs for his perusal. Her reason for being here had been perfectly explained by all the paperwork she’d completed and the way she’d sat across from him answering his questions, even though she thought they were over-the-top. Of course, she hadn’t said that—which showed that no matter how honest she seemed, she did have respect for his position. Kris could tell by the way she’d watched him carefully after providing each answer. She’d wondered if the answer was good enough for him, while inwardly not caring because she told herself she had no intention of answering any other way. Her subtle boldness and their conversation had been intriguing to Kris.
So much so, that at last night’s dinner he’d found himself watching her, listening to her talk and laugh, more focused on her than all the business issues that he still had to deal with. Kris had no idea when something else had taken over his mind before business.
Last night, she hadn’t shied away from him. He hadn’t really expected her to; he was the crown prince, after all. Not that he was conceited in any way. To the contrary, Kris wished on more days than he could count that he were just a regular guy. If he were, then he could have kissed her last night and maybe there could have been more, like a long evening in bed, a slow start to the morning after waking with her in his arms.
He sighed heavily and then shook his head. Thoughts like that were for other people, in other places. Not him and definitely not here.
“Nice to see you made it back from the bank in one piece.”
Kris looked up to see Roland walking into his private office. Kris hadn’t bothered to lock the doors since he was expecting Roland. Besides, his brother rarely knocked on any doors in the palace. Roland Simon DeSaunters always had to make a grand entrance. Their mother used to always tell the story of the night of the Ambassador’s Ball when she was barely seven months pregnant and her water had broken as soon as she and Rafe made their entrance into the ballroom. Roland had been born one hour after that moment, yelling at the top of his lungs, announcing his arrival as if they hadn’t already known he was coming. Vivienne had always smiled when she retold that story. Rafe, on the other hand, would frown. Their father had frowned a lot where Roland was concerned.
“Nice to see you made it to the press conference and on time,” Kris replied.
He was finished removing the papers from the folder and set it to the side on his desk.
Roland closed the office door before taking a seat across from Kris’s desk.
“I said I would be there,” he told Kris.
“You did.”
“I always keep my word,” Roland continued. “You know that.”
Kris nodded as he looked over to his brother who was now dressed in khaki pants and a polo shirt. Kris couldn’t remember the last time he’d been able to dress so casually.
“You are trustworthy,” Kris said. “Even the billionaires you swindle out of their money can attest to that.”
Roland shook his head. “You’ve got it all wrong, big brother. I do not swindle. I play cards and I play them well. Those with huge bank accounts and even larger egos should never underestimate that.”
His brother was smiling. Kris was not. As long as Kris was alive and well, he was next in line to rule. Roland was not. As such, he hadn’t been trained and groomed the way Kris had. That was not to say that Rafe hadn’t raised both his sons with a strong and firm hand, because he had. There were rules and they were all expected to follow them because Rafe’s wrath was nothing to be laughed at. Sam had been handled differently, still, unshakable integrity and dedication to their island was a given for each one of them. Roland was the only one who did not agree to those terms.
“So that’s where you’re off to tonight. I saw on the schedule that you’re leaving town today and will return in time for the brunch on Friday, before taking off again Friday night. You’re going to join in another one of those poker games aren’t you?” Kris couldn’t hide the disappointment in his tone.
Roland only shrugged. “You run the banks and stand by Dad looking all dour and debonair. Sam smiles prettily at the tourist board meetings. She is the face of the island, a beautiful Caribbean goddess is what I’ve heard her called. Me, I’m the recluse. That little bit of danger that intrigues the world and probably draws in quite a bit of tourists as well. Just like the Americans who flock t
o Hollywood to see the homes of the stars,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s what I do and, just like you and Sam, I do it well.”
“Regardless of the repercussions?”
“I’m an adult, Kris. I went to school and graduated just like Dad had commanded. He said since I did not care to attend college like you did, that I had to enlist in the military. The Royal Seaside Navy was less than happy to put up with me for four years, but they did and I completed my time there. I’ve done my part.”
“Have you, Roland?” Kris asked as he leaned forward on his desk. “You don’t help with any of the business of this island. Sam and I both carry more of a load than you. Hell, you barely show up for dinner or other functions. You know you’re not doing your part.”
“I’m doing the part that fell on my shoulders. If my big brother weren’t so perfect and my younger sister so pretty, maybe there would have been something left for me. Alas, I’m not into complaining. I’m making the best of my situation.”
“I’d give you any one of my assignments if you acted halfway interested,” Kris admitted.
Roland drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair. “Thankfully, I’m not. And this isn’t the real reason you called me. So why don’t we skip the rest of this conversation because we already know how it’s going to end.”
Kris frowned. He hated when Roland was right.
“Were you paying attention at the press conference this morning, or did you just show up to be seen?” he asked after taking a slow, steady breath and releasing it.
“I heard every word, just like everyone on this island and probably a good portion of people across the world did.”
Roland lounged back in the chair.
Kris rubbed a finger over his chin. “Sam doesn’t care for her.”
“And now, neither do the dressmakers on this island. She basically told them she’d attend her own wedding naked before employing one of them,” Roland stated.
