by Maya Blake
Their arrival at his embassy put paid to his errant thoughts and, thankfully, the need to dissect thereal cause of his disgruntlement. ‘Let’s go and find out, shall we?’
He stepped out, ingrained courtesy dictating he hold out his hand to her.
She accepted his assistance, slid out gracefully but almost immediately attempted to regain her hand. Zak released her but not before he once again registered the smooth, supple warmth of her skin. The need to keep touching her.
General Pierre Alvardo, Montegova’s defence minister, approached the moment they were inside the vast hallway of the Montegovan embassy.
‘Your Highness, thank you for meeting me. This matter is urgent or I wouldn’t have interrupted your evening.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that.’ Zak had accepted the meeting because Alvardo tended to be a little trigger happy. His mother had her hands full with parliamentary duties and his brother, Crown Prince Remi, was on a diplomatic mission in the Middle East.
Alvardo slid a glance at Violet, then addressed his next request in Montegovan.
Zak stopped him with a halting hand. ‘You may address me in English, Alvardo. Lady Barringhall has signed a confidentiality contract and knows the consequences of breaking it.’
Beside him, Violet gave a sanguine smile that somehow tunnelled straight into his bloodstream, heating it up several more degrees. ‘Lady Barringhall hasn’t forgotten, Your Highness. She doesn’t need to be reminded.’
Alvardo’s eyes widened but he hadn’t risen to defence minister without learning a thing or two about diplomacy.
In the conference room, Zak waited for Violet to be seated before taking his place at the head of the table. The moment she set her phone to record, he got straight to the point.
‘Is this about the group of dissidents you alerted us to two months ago?’
Alvardo nodded. ‘Intelligence reports they’ve doubled in number and may be planning an insurgency in Playagova in the near future.’
Zak tensed. ‘May be? You’re not completely certain of their plans?’
Alvardo’s gaze grew cagey. ‘We haven’t been able to infiltrate the group as easily as we’d hoped.’
Zak’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re here to seek leave to openly pursue them?’ he surmised.
His minister nodded. ‘As the Queen’s appointed head of the Montegovan military, you will have to give express instructions for an active investigation into the group.’
‘Even though such an act could fuel anxiety, cause undue panic?’ he countered.
‘I believe it’s a small price to pay for absolute certainty.’
‘I don’t.’
Zak felt Violet’s gaze on him. He glanced at her, registered the relief in her eyes before she broke eye contact to fiddle needlessly with her phone.
‘But... Your Highness.’ Alvardo paused, and Zak got the notion he was measuring his words. ‘I’m of the opinion that this could get out of hand very quickly if not immediately dealt with.’
‘Then redouble your efforts to turn may be into concrete evidence. The Montegovan people have been through enough without causing ripples with unfounded rumours. Maintain surveillance without engaging and report back to me when something changes.’ Until then he’d make his own investigations, double check the general’s report.
With his mother’s recent but as yet unannounced intention to step down from the throne in favour of Remi, the situation would need extremely careful monitoring. The last thing Montegova needed with its recent history was another shaky period. ‘That will be all.’
The general rose, gave a grave bow and left the room.
Zak noted Violet’s heavy silence as he escorted her back out to the car.
It wasn’t until they cleared Midtown traffic and were heading towards the Upper East Side, where the fundraiser was being held, that he turned to her.
‘Ask your questions. I can see you’re about to burst from the effort of maintaining your silence.’
She pressed plump lips together for a short moment. ‘Is there really a threat to your country?’
He shrugged. ‘There’s always a threat. The trick is to separate the salient from the white noise, as it were.’
‘But what the general said...it all sounded urgent.’
‘Alvardo is a defence minister. He believes he wouldn’t be doing his job if he didn’t advocate fire and brimstone at every turn.’
She frowned. ‘Are you sure? It seems a little more than that.’
‘Probably because it is,’ Zak confirmed, then wondered why he was giving her this leeway, letting her into secrets that might come back to bite him.
‘And you’re happy to go along with such dire predictions? Are you really okay with such blatant...warmongering?’
‘I’ve learned to look beneath the surface, always. He makes his reports. I investigate further where I need to. The truth of the situation always comes out in the end.’ He couldn’t stem bitterness that stemmed directly from the secret his father had kept for over twenty years, only to have it explode in their faces even before the dirt had settled over his final resting place. But his statement was also aimed at Violet, more specifically at the plans she’d concocted with her mother.
He glanced at her, noted how her lashes swept down and away, pretending interest in the passing scenery outside the window. Si, Lady Violet Barringhall, like her mother, clearly thought they were pulling the wool over his eyes with this stint at his trust.
‘And do you think this situation requires serious investigation? Are people really plotting to bring the kingdom down?’ she asked after a moment with wide-eyed interest that appeared genuine. But then her interest would be genuine, wouldn’t it, if she had aspirations of elevating herself from Lady to Princess?
Zak shrugged with an ease he didn’t feel deep down. ‘There are those who believe the era of the monarchy is long past. That the people should dispense with the royal house altogether.’ He gauged her reaction. While her expression looked a little troubled, there wasn’t the cutting desperation he’d expected at the possibility of her coveted position evaporating before her eyes.
Perhaps she was a better actress than he’d initially credited her with being.
‘And what do you say to that?’
Centuries-old pride and the warrior’s clamour of his forebears drew only one answer from him. ‘My ancestors didn’t carve out a kingdom through blood and battle only to hand it over to a disgruntled few who believe they know what’s right for my people. Montegova isn’t ruled by a power-hungry figurehead who merely sits on the throne and collects taxes at the end of a fiscal year. My mother and brother are both active members of parliament. Their votes are just two among many that operate under a system of check and balances agreed by law. As the current head of the monarchy, the Queen has certain rights, granted, but she’s not above the law. Whatever injustices are felt should be addressed through the legal system, not through uprisings.’
‘That’s easy to say, though, some would say. Didn’t your ancestors stamp out dissension when there were bloody revolutions?’
He allowed himself a smile that didn’t quite unfreeze the chill in his chest, not when the memory of how close to chaos Montegova had come a mere decade ago echoed through him. ‘Precisely. So why follow the same tired route when we can forge new ones? Innovate, don’t imitate, isn’t that the saying?’
‘Why are you pretending to be flippant about this?’ she asked.
Zak tensed, despising the extra layer of disgruntlement her incisive observation triggered. ‘Perhaps I’m wondering what your motives are. Your task was simply to take notes. Why the sudden interest in Montegova?’ he tossed back at her.
She floundered momentarily before her composure snapped back into place. ‘I work for you, for the time being. Is it really so strange for me to take an interest, considering
I have an affiliation with Montegova? Or have you forgotten that my mother is half-Montegovan?’
He hadn’t forgotten, neither had he missed how effectively the Barringhalls used that fact when it suited them financially. ‘And how many times have you visited the homeland you have a quarter claim to?’
She flushed, even though her gaze stayed defiantly on his. ‘Not as often as I would’ve liked—’
‘By that you mean never, am I right?’
‘We both know I’ve never visited Montegova.’
Perhaps it was time to root her out, turn the tables on this scheme by the Barringhalls and be done with this woman who tempted him like no other.
‘According to your résumé, you’ve been to the other side of the world. The life you choose to live on social media is fond of screaming that fact but you’ve never bothered to visit the homeland of your non-British ancestors on the other side of Europe? I’m sure you’ll excuse me if I find your concern for the state of affairs in my kingdom somewhat...lacking.’
‘My travels were funded by charitable donations painstakingly gathered over four years because I was determined to make a difference. And if by life on social media, you mean my job, then yes. It’s called raising awareness.’
His lips twisted. ‘There is a fine line between raising awareness and raising one’s own profile.’
‘Is there? How would you know? Isn’t your royal webpage managed by a team of social media experts? Or are you one of those royals who can’t resist having a secret profile so you can play the voyeur on other people’s lives?’
He allowed himself a riling smile. ‘If I do possess such a page, rest assured, I won’t divulge it to you.’
Hot emotion flashed through her eyes. But again it was swiftly swept under the cloak of utter composure. And why did that normally laudable ability suddenly grate on his nerves?
‘Because you, like everyone else, believe every single thing you hear about my family?’ she demanded, her tone holding a chilled note of censure. As if she was the one disappointed in him, not the other way around.
‘The evidence is hard to refute but I invite you to try.’
Her lips pursed again and, like a fool, he latched onto the motion, recalling far too vividly the taste and suppleness of her lower lip. The eagerness of her response. Did she still make those insane little sounds when aroused?
‘No, thank you. Far be it from me to waste my time on a futile task. Besides, we’ve arrived,’ she announced with more than a little relief in her voice.
Zak flicked a glance out his window, his ire increasing. He’d been so absorbed in her he’d lost all sense of time and place. He ignored his driver’s presence beside the back door and concentrated on Violet. On the answer she’d given him. Had she truly just refused a silver-plated invitation to interact with him?
Zak could honestly say he didn’t recall the last time the words no, thanks had fallen from a woman’s lips in his company.
And again he was...intrigued. He stared into the blue eyes regarding him with a touch of wariness and...reproof.
‘Your Highness—’
‘Zak.’
Her eyes widened. ‘What?’
‘You may call me Zak when we’re not in a formal or professional setting. I’ll leave it to your discretion,’ he said, reeling a little from the words falling from his own mouth.
She didn’t speak the words but the refrain of no, thanks, blazed in her eyes.
Another first.
‘We’re going to be late, Your Highness.’ She aimed a pointed gaze at the door. ‘And I don’t wish be blamed for your tardiness.’
A peculiar little blaze fired through him, fanning higher the longer he looked into her eyes. He was a prince. Second in line to the throne of a small but infinitely mighty kingdom. Not very many people dared to defy him.
Violet Barringhall was exhibiting definite signs of defiance.
The urge to put her in her place resurged. But it had a different slant to it this time. There were so many ways to deliver one’s point. To those who sought to seed mistrust and dissent in his kingdom. To those who sought to gain financially on the back of his family name.
Why not try a different solution to this problem? Take that immersive therapy he’d mocked to another level. Send the Barringhalls a message once and for all.
She blinked, drawing his attention to her wide, alluring eyes. The flawless skin of her throat and neck. Lust kicked hard in his groin, reminding him that he hadn’t indulged himself in a while.
She’d flashed those eyes at him just like that on her birthday. Well, two could play at this game the Barringhalls had started.
Si, it really was the perfect solution.
Decided, he flicked his wrist and his driver eased the door open.
Zak stepped out to a frenzy of paparazzi flashbulbs. Ignoring them, he offered his hand to Violet, this time holding onto her as she stepped out onto the red carpet.
In her heels, she came up to his shoulder, the perfect angle for him to gaze down at for a beat before the inevitable personal questions were shouted at him.
He didn’t answer, of course. Pandering to the media was beneath him, and he’d learned long ago that the tabloid press printed what they wanted regardless of his answers or, indeed, the truth.
But when they caught sight of Violet and tripled their questions, he allowed an enigmatic smile to play on his lips as he tucked her arm into his and escorted her inside.
The paradigm had shifted.
Violet couldn’t pinpoint exactly what had happened or when. But as she walked beside Zak though the throng of designer-clad guests, she sensed an edgier purpose from him. Instinctively, she knew it wasn’t the challenge of attempting to meet his impossibly high standards.
Whatever Zak had up his sleeve was personal. Aimed at her.
It lurked in the shrewd, too-long gazes that repeatedly slanted her way as he guided her around the opulent ballroom. Halfway through the first circuit, she knew she needed to extricate herself from him.
His tight schedule, even at social functions, provided the perfect excuse. ‘You have three pre-dinner drinks. The first is with the Bolivian attaché. Here he comes now,’ she said briskly, hoping that flinging them both into business mode would throw him off whatever scent he seemed determined to hunt down.
Zak nodded without taking his eyes off the person he was saying goodbye to, then skilfully intercepted her with a hand on her elbow before she could walk away. ‘Stay. Your presence will curtail his tendency to drone on ad nauseam. You might also pick up a tip or two to take back to your institution when you leave in a few months.’
The reminder that this position was temporary shouldn’t have annoyed her, considering she’d been praying for it to end a short while ago. Perhaps it abraded her nerves because he stated it with that narrow-eyed, watchful suspicion? ‘I’ll stay if you think I’ll be useful. My role is to assist, after all.’
‘Do I detect a little displeasure in your tone, Lady Barringhall?’
Violet.
She barely stopped herself from issuing the invitation. She wouldn’t. He could use that mocking tone all he liked. Right up until she extricated herself permanently from him.
‘Of course not,’ she said with a smile manufactured straight from the depths of the decorum rulebook.
She ignored his droll expression as he greeted the attaché, sending him on his way the moment the man’s conversation grew circuitous. But after he’d introduced her to the next person with that faintly mocking tone once more, she’d had enough. ‘Why do you keep throwing my title in people’s faces?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Ignoring the blatantly false claim of obliviousness, she pressed on. ‘You’ve been in a...mood since we arrived. Is this some sort of test?’
‘Everything is a test,
Lady Barringhall. If you don’t know that by now, then I’ve been wasting my time.’
‘I don’t mean professionally and you know it. This feels personal. Did I do something to offend you?’
The only hint that she may have strayed near a bullseye with her question was in the brief flaring of his nostrils. Then he was back under supreme control. ‘I merely introduced you with your correct title. I fail to see why you would feel attacked by it.’
To push the issue felt like overkill. And yet... ‘Perhaps we should clear the air. Lay things out in the open?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Ah, now we get to the heart of the matter. Is this where you confess?’
She frowned. ‘Excuse me? Confess what?’
‘That this so-called role of yours is just hiding your true purpose here,’ he said, an edge in his tone.
‘And what’s my true purpose, pray tell? No, wait, let me guess. You think it’s some sort of ploy to land myself somewhere in your private life? Or, goodness, perhaps even in your bed?’
That earned her more emotion. His eyes blazed wildly and ferociously, just like they had that night, before he ruthlessly smothered it. But it didn’t die completely. She felt its latent heat as his gaze drilled into her. ‘Is your ultimate goal to land in my bed? You should’ve said this straight out, Violet. Then we could’ve dispensed with all this...pretence.’
Fire intensified, flaring out from her pelvis to engulf her whole body. ‘You’re deliberately twisting my words. I don’t want to end up in your bed. Hell, I don’t want to go anywhere near your bedroom!’
A few heads turned, and she flushed as eyebrows went up at her hot, charged denial.
Just then a discreet little chime announced the end of the champagne reception. Violet breathed in relief.
‘Saved by the bell but definitely to be continued, I think,’ he rasped as they drifted towards an even more opulently decorated ballroom where the main event was being held.
‘No, it won’t,’ she whispered fiercely. ‘I hate to disappoint you but I’ve said all I’m going to say on the matter. I don’t care what you think my motives are, but I’d thank you to—’
