The Royal Arrangement

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The Royal Arrangement Page 6

by Jeana E. Mann


  “There’s a storm brewing,” he says, his voice softer than usual, lifting the hairs on the back of my neck. Outside the window, fluffy white clouds drift lazily in a brilliant blue sky. I have a feeling he’s right.

  9

  HENRY

  Former Vice President Don McElroy greets us in the lobby of the Chelsea restaurant. Now that I know he’s Everly’s father, I can see the resemblance. They’re both tall and fair-skinned and confident in their movements. I cast a questioning glance at Nicky, stunned into silence. Lunch with the enemy wasn’t on my agenda.

  “Don, hello.” Nicky ignores my scowl and steps forward. They shake hands and slap each other on the back, like old friends. “I hope we didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

  “Not at all. It’s good to see you. You too, Prince Heinrich. Glad you could make it.” Like Everly, Don McElroy is long-limbed and fair-skinned. Threads of dark auburn weave through his silver hair.

  I lift an eyebrow at Nicky. As much as I’d like to abandon this ambush, my curiosity is piqued. “I didn’t know you were joining us.”

  “Did I forget to mention Don would be here? My apologies.” Nick feigns embarrassment, but I know better. The canny motherfucker planned this all along. Another excellent example of his untrustworthiness.

  Don’s blue eyes rove over me. “I hope it’s not a problem.” He bows and waits for me to extend a hand to shake, following royal protocol. I don’t want to touch this bastard, but a lifetime of training kicks in. His palm is smooth, his grip firm. “The last time we met, you were a lad of fourteen and twelve inches shorter.”

  I have faint memories of him, solid and congenial, at my father’s coronation, his name mentioned in after-dinner conversations at the palace, and photographs of his arm around the king on royal hunting expeditions. When I was a kid, he seemed like the epitome of the American male. The wisdom of experience allows me to see beyond his orchestrated smiles, firm handshakes, and the hollow promises reeking of a politician’s insincerity. Sometimes the most dangerous men lurk behind the façade of a hero. I should know. My family tree is full of them.

  “Please give your mother my best regards. She was on holiday in Spain the last time Judy and I visited. And your father? How’s he doing?” His voice booms with quiet authority in the five-star Chelsea restaurant.

  “They’re both well. Thank you for asking.” Although we’re in the middle of a crowded establishment, the threat of danger prickles my skin. I mustn’t let down my guard, not for a second. A quick glance around the room eases my anxiety. My security team is stationed around the perimeter and outside the restaurant, steps away from my side.

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it.” His gaze flickers across my face, assessing and unconvinced. The game of power has begun. I’m lying. He knows it. My father’s mental health has been a subject of hot debate among his subjects and journalists for the past year. We fall silent as the hostess approaches.

  “Vice President McElroy. Your Royal Highness. Nicky.” She’s thin and short, with dark red lipstick. The smile on her face widens when it lands on the traitorous Russian. The grin he flashes her is equal parts of sin and invitation. She bats her long eyelashes in silent flirtation before stepping into the dining area. “Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me, your table is this way.”

  Expansive windows offer a view of the Hudson River. Sailboats glide through the water, enjoying the sunny afternoon. Halfway to our table, surprise leaves my throat dry. There’s no mistaking the shine of long red hair or the softness of perfect, alabaster skin. It’s her. Everly. I cast a glance at Nick. He drags a palm over his tie, fighting a frown. His gaze catches mine then flicks away. What’s that about? Guilt? Annoyance?

  “My daughter’s here. Let’s stop and say hello.” McElroy shifts direction.

  The blonde seated with Everly seems familiar, but my gaze is locked on my dream girl. An attractive blush climbs up her elegant neck before settling in her cheeks. I wait for recognition to flicker in her eyes, but it never appears. My focus homes in on her lips. That same pouty mouth did filthy, exquisite things to my body last night. Blood rockets to my groin, awakening my cock, ready for a replay.

  “Rourke, a pleasure, as always.” McElroy places a hand on her shoulder. Displeasure flashes across her face so quickly I wonder if I imagined it. An intriguing tension thickens between Everly, Rourke, Don, and Nicky. “Let me introduce you to my colleagues. Prince Heinrich, this is Rourke Menshikov. Rourke, meet the Crown Prince of Androvia. And you know Nicky, of course.” Roman’s wife nods and smiles. I take her hand and make the appropriate remarks, unable to rip my attention from Everly. “And this is my daughter, Everly.”

  “Ah, yes, the delightful Ms. McElroy. I’ve heard so much about you.” With her hand in mine, I bend to place a kiss on her fingertips. At the touch of her skin to my mouth, a tingle buzzes over my lips. I pile on the charisma, knowing Nicky is listening to every word, eager to annoy him. “You’re even lovelier than your reputation.” My gaze locks on hers. I wait for a glimmer of recognition that doesn’t arrive.

  Everly flashes her mega-watt smile. “What brings you to New York, Prince Heinrich? I’m disappointed our paths haven’t crossed sooner.” A hint of flirtation hovers behind her words.

  My pulse quickens at the low, smooth sound of her voice, remembering her pleas for mercy, begging me to make her come. “Business with your father brought me into the city, but I have a house here, as well. Two, actually.” I sound like an arrogant ass, overeager to impress her. The truth is I haven’t visited either house in the past year, preferring the bustle of a downtown hotel to the solitude of my large, echoing, lonely homes. To redeem myself, I make another stupid comment. Her smile widens, and I’m gone. Gone for her loveliness and charm and the way my nerve endings come alive at her touch. The rest of the conversation blurs into the background. I’m too taken by the subtle hint of hatred in her eyes whenever she glances at Nick. Good. Let her hate him.

  Seeing her in the light of day cements my resolve. I need this woman in my life. Not only will she satisfy my sexual desires, but she’ll also provide a link to her father, a way to keep tabs on his actions. My mind is made up. The only thing left is to convince her. And that means revealing my identity.

  EVERLY

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep my eyes off the handsome prince seated with my father. His blue eyes meet mine with a force that takes my breath away. My heartbeat stalls. The corner of his mouth curls into a wicked grin. My pulse starts up again, doubling its pace until spots form in front of my eyes.

  Across the room, my father joins the prince in staring at me, but his gaze is filled with warning. I lift my chin in direct defiance. The prince’s grin dissipates into something more serious, almost cunning, tugging on something low in my belly. That shrewd expression confirms my suspicions. The prince is the one who spanked my ass until it glowed red then made me come harder than I’ve ever done in my life. I glance away, feeling a rising tide of embarrassment in my cheeks.

  Nicky takes my hand in his. I keep forgetting about him. His touch annoys me. If only he’d go back to his table. He squeezes my fingers to draw my attention. “I want to apologize for my behavior toward you. It was inexcusable.” My jaw drops in shock. An apology was the last thing I expected. I don’t have time for this. Not now. “I mistreated you, and I’m ashamed. If I led you on, I’m sorry. I hope you won’t see my actions as a reflection on your value as a person. You’re kind, beautiful, and deserve much more than I could ever give. We both know I’m not the sort of man you want in your life. I hope we can start over and be friends.”

  “I—I—don’t know what to say.” I glance at Rourke. I want to believe him, but I suspect this is a show for her approval.

  She shakes her head, echoing my disbelief. The prince’s introspection morphs into a scowl. I don’t know if it’s something my father said to him or the way Nicky is down on one knee in front of me, but he’s definitely annoyed.

  “W
e’re going to run into each other from time to time. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because I’m a dick. Say you forgive me, and let’s move on.” Nicky flashes his most charming smile at me, but his gaze is on Rourke. Although I love her more than the world, I can’t stop the resentment slicing through my chest. He’s in love with her. It’s so obvious. I’m always losing out to someone else. A Hollywood starlet. Or, in the case of my ex-husband, his employee. And then I hate myself for allowing such destructive thoughts to enter my head.

  “I can live with that.” As much as I want to continue hating him, I need to focus on the future and repairing my life. Things I can’t accomplish beneath the chains of hurt and anger.

  Nicky and Rourke resume their conversation, but I can’t concentrate on their words. I’m too enamored with the golden-haired man across the room. Does he know I know? Should I say something or keep quiet? Our night together was meant to be an isolated incident. Watching him now brings back all the excitement of his touch. I press my thighs together to stave off the growing ache. My golden stranger is a prince.

  10

  HENRY

  Across the restaurant, I peer over the menu in my hand as Nicky speaks to Everly. She doesn’t look directly at him. From my seat, I have a clear view of her long legs beneath the table. Legs that were wrapped around my waist a short time ago. Legs that twitched before she came so hard on my dick, it drove me to orgasm.

  “How is Androvia’s economy?” Don tries to draw my attention away from his daughter, but I can’t concentrate. I’m jealous of her knit dress, the way it clings to the swells of her breasts, caressing skin that I know from experience is soft and smooth and creamy. “The last I heard, unemployment was up.”

  “About the same, I believe.” Reluctantly, I tear my gaze from Everly to focus on my host. “I have a few ideas to bolster growth.” Over the past year, my proposals had passed through Androvian Parliament but had been denied by my father. Unless a plan directly fattens his purse, he has no interest.

  “It’s good to see you take an interest in your people.” He rubs his chin and nods. “Have you thought about the political stance you’ll take when you become king? Your father isn’t getting any younger. You need to be prepared for the unexpected.” Don’s blue eyes bore into mine. An ominous foreboding rouses the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. Menace lurks behind his relaxed demeanor. “If he should suddenly drop dead, you should have a plan in place.”

  “That’s an odd thing to say. Do you know something I don’t?” On instinct, I shutter my expression. Across the room, Nicky has Everly’s hand in his. A silent growl rumbles in my throat. She might have been his in the beginning, but she’s mine now. “Androvia’s in a tough spot, especially with its throne in jeopardy.”

  “You’re mistaken. There’s no threat to the crown.” My attention bounces between McElroy and his daughter. The waiter presents a bottle of wine for our approval and fills our glasses. Meanwhile, Nicky takes a knee in front of Everly. What the ever-loving fuck? Is he proposing? My fingers clench around the napkin in my lap. Don’s gaze follows mine.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Just like her mother.” A cunning smile curls his lips. Although the room is spacious, the walls close in around me. “They look great together. If I have my way, Nicky will be my next son-in-law.”

  “You mean a cheating, deceitful son-in-law. I thought a man like you would have higher goals for his daughter.” I swallow, forcing myself to once again look away from his daughter and my former best mate. I don’t like Nicky touching her. Not after I branded her. Not with the memory of her wet heat fresh in my mind. “No woman deserves that.”

  “He’s a pretentious asshole, but his connections to Roman make him highly desirable. Imagine the power of a union like theirs.” Don stares out the window at the shimmering river. “You, of all people, should understand the necessity of building alliances through marriage.” I’ve seen that dreamy look before on my father’s face when he was drunk on visions of domination and revenge. “Not that I’m a fan of Roman, by any means. He’s getting too big for his britches, in my opinion.”

  “And what about Everly? Maybe she doesn’t want to be married to a pretentious asshole.”

  “She’ll do whatever I tell her to do.” He taps a thoughtful fingernail on the edge of his wineglass. “I had high hopes for her, but she’s turned out to be more of a hinderance than an asset. I can only hope she’ll marry up this next time.”

  “I’d hardly call Nick marrying up.” I understand his school of thought. In our world, connections are everything. Marriages are brokered like business deals. Love is a foolish notion for paupers and romance novels. I should know. My parents have been trotting eligible females in front of me since my fifth birthday. I draw in a deep breath through my nose to clear my head. What do I care? Everly was a one-night stand. Nothing more. The sooner I accept the fact, the better.

  “My wife and I had hoped for a boy, but nature doesn’t always grant our wishes. Take my advice. Start working on a male heir right away, before time gets away from you. Do you still have an arrangement with Lady Clayton? I was the one who suggested your union, you know. Back when your father actually listened to my advice.” His gaze cuts through me. “She’ll make a fantastic queen.”

  I choke on a sip of wine. The arrangement was a stupid concession on my part, made when I was too young to know better. Our engagement is off, but she’s still the number one contender for my queen. After all, it doesn’t really matter who I wed as long as she’s of royal blood, useful to the throne, and able to bear children. I clear my throat and try not to grimace at the thought of marriage to a two-faced bitch. I have plenty of time to find someone else. “Anything you’ve heard about a marriage between us is sheer speculation.”

  “Is it?” One of his thick gray eyebrows arches toward his hairline. “I have it on good authority that Lord Clayton paid a handsome sum to your parents as confirmation.”

  “You certainly know a lot about my situation. Why is that?”

  “Your father and I used to be very close. In fact, there was a time when I considered a match between you and my daughter.” His lips purse while he swirls the wine in his glass until it spins hypnotically.

  Heat races up my neck. The idea of owning Everly, having her at my disposal night and day, is a heady but unrealistic one. “She’s not a royal.”

  “Not technically, but did you know my wife is a cousin to the Queen of England?” Don mistakes my silence as interest and continues. “She gave up her title to marry me and become a U.S. citizen.” He taps a finger on the corner of his placemat then leans closer, like he’s going to reveal a secret. “Look at her. She’s beautiful, smart, fertile.” My gaze flicks to Everly’s long legs. “I’d be willing to sell her to you. Name your price.”

  What kind of father speaks that way about his daughter? Frustration on her behalf tightens the muscles in my chest. He has to love and protect her, not sell her off to the highest bidder. I take a sip of water and choose my next words carefully. “I don’t need to buy a wife. If I wanted your daughter, I’d just take her.”

  What the devil is taking Nicky so long? I blame him for putting me in this situation with McElroy. He’s having a heated conversation with Mrs. Menshikov, taking his damn time returning to our table. Everly shifts in her seat, appearing uncomfortable with the confrontation in front of her. Our gazes lock once more, resurrecting that strange, exciting twitter in my gut.

  Don’s complexion deepens to dark red. “Don’t let your ego get in the way of your common sense, Your Highness. No one takes anything from me unless I let them. Just ask Roman. He tried to fuck with my business, and now he’s under suspicion for murder. Coincidence? I’ll let you decide.” He throws a casual arm across Nicky’s empty chair.

  “You seem to have things all figured out.” In an echo of his nonchalance, I lean back in my chair. The back of my neck prickles under the threat of danger to myself, my country, and Everly. “Maybe you�
�re the one who needs to check his ego at the door.”

  “Don’t underestimate the scope of my connections. If you’re going to be the next king—”

  My temper begins to flare. “You mean when—when I become king.”

  “If you become king, you need to line up your allies right away. Get a strong team behind you. All I ask is for Androvia to provide refuge and support to my business partners.” With a graceful flick of his fingers, he releases the buttons of his jacket and shoves back in his chair. “Your father has outlived his usefulness to my supporters and me. Thankfully, you seem to be much more intelligent than him. Do the right thing, Your Highness. I can help you make Androvia great again.”

  His veiled threats heighten my discomfort. The possibility that I might not make it to the throne has never occurred to me. I’m the sole male heir of the current monarch. My uncle Rupert, whose political inclinations align with Father’s, would be next in succession. “I don’t know which is more disturbing—the offer to sell your daughter or your inappropriate interest in my country.”

  “I have interests around the world, Your Highness. Your father has been most generous in his support over the past decade, but lately, he’s been less than accommodating to the needs of my associates. That kind of negligence could separate a person’s head from his neck.” The gleam in his blue eyes reminds me of glacier ice.

  “I’m done with this conversation.” I nod to my closest bodyguard, a silent signal to pull the limo around to the front.

  “Just stating the facts, son.” He nods to the waiter for a refill of his wineglass, oblivious to my growing irritation.

  “I’m not your son. I’m the Crown Prince of Androvia, and it would be in your best interest to remember it.” My shoulders tense at his intentional insults. If he’s trying to get under my skin, he’s doing an excellent job.

 

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