All That Glitters: Glitz, Glam, and Billionaires

by Michele Hauf

  “It must have been a horrible dispute.”

  “More than anyone can imagine. I’m not at liberty to talk about it.”

  “So you never went back?”

  “I did when my grandfather died, but I returned to Boston the next day. I couldn’t stay longer with Prince Paul now assuming the throne,” Eric added automatically before realizing his blunder.

  “What did you say? Prince Paul assuming the throne?”

  Too late to try to sugarcoat the truth. “My cousin Paul Devereux is the ruling prince of Rensy Island.”

  “Ah... Ah... And your grandfather was...”

  “Prince Edward. Philip offered me a position in his company while I completed a master’s degree at MIT,” Eric continued, ignoring her wide-open eyes. “When he criticized me for not giving work my full attention, I took offense, quit, and flew to Las Vegas.” Eric burst out laughing. “I decided to apply a probability equation I created to poker machines.”

  “An equation that you created?” She tilted her head, peering at him in awe.

  “It worked at the beginning, and I won bigtime at the casino. And I bought my Harley. Then some manager took offense of my winning streak and changed something in the machines. I lost a lot of cash. I changed casinos several times. Same story each time. Winning, losing. At the end, I lost against a real mob that wanted to steal my precious bike and carve my face with a knife.”

  “Oh my God. Is that why you wanted to leave in such a rush and secrecy?”

  “I should have left a week ago. When they came after me, swearing to kill me, I ran for my life. I stepped on my pride and called Philip. He said to escape Las Vegas and catch the first flight. But I couldn’t do it.”

  “Why not?”

  “While running away from the poker mob, I hid in Caesars Palace, more precisely in the Colosseum, and watched an unexpected performance.” Eric took her hand and brought it to his lips. “I was mesmerized by your exquisite performance and by the sadness in your eyes. Seriously, I couldn’t leave without knowing you better.”

  “You stayed for me? Even though it was so dangerous for you?”

  He nodded and kept her hands in his. “After that first performance, I returned to my apartment, packed, and gave a suitcase to my neighbor to ship to Boston. Then I bought the disguise you saw me wearing and hid at Caesars Palace. I worked at odd jobs, sweeping floors, washing dishes, and others. A jack-of-all-trades at whatever allowed me to hide, make a few bucks, and listen to interesting bits of conversations. And watch you every night.”

  A throat-clearing interrupted them. Ken stood before them with a tray. “I’ve been promoted to flight attendant,” he joked. “Bringing your lunch, salad, chicken sandwich, and apple pie and grapes for dessert.” He placed the tray on the cocktail table. “Be right back with the wine.”

  “Thank you, Ken.” Natalie smiled at the bodyguard.

  “Good job,” Eric added. “How’s our young friend doing?”

  “We played on his iPad and my phone. We’ll eat now and he can have a doze. He seems sleepy.”

  “Thank you for taking care of him,” Natalie said.

  Eric hoped the boy would take a nap all the way to Boston. He’d told his story to Natalie but hadn’t heard her response to his long explanation. Ken returned with a bottle of wine and glasses.

  “Perfect timing. I’ve talked too much and my throat is dry.” Eric poured a glass for Natalie and another for himself, and lifted it to clank it against Natalie’s. “Cheers. To a new, happy, and successful life in Boston.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You are going to a successful career and a meaningful life near your family, Prince Eric. I don’t know where I’m going. I just wanted to remove my brother from nasty influences. But for me, there’s no future here. Las Vegas is the capital of entertainment and glitter.” The quivering of her voice broke his heart.

  “First, drop that Prince Eric. I stopped being a prince when I was ten. Second, there are theaters in Boston, too. Dancers, singers, entertainers perform on the East Coast, too.”

  “You were so proud of your probability equation, and you tried it out. In the same way, I put together a new formula. Singing a piece of music and then dancing ballet to the same music. It’s different. In Boston, no one has done that. No one cares for that.”

  He squeezed her hands. “I’m changing direction. Setting aside my equation for something new—protecting DIF and its investors from hackers. Maybe I’ll go back to my equation later, if I have more leverage. You, too, can set aside your singing-dancing formula, concentrate on the one more likely to succeed, and then come back to it later. I’ll be at your side, ready to support you. I trust your capability. I know you can succeed. On your own. Without Las Vegas dirty deals.”

  Her lips stretched into a weak smile, and she nodded. “Thank you for your trust, Eric.”

  7

  A prince! Talk about bad luck. Just when she’d found a gorgeous man going out of his way for her, supporting and helping her, risking his safety, handling her difficult brother with understanding and kindness, he had to be a prince.

  “Stop pondering the future and enjoy your present—our delicious lunch,” Eric urged with a bone-melting smile. He’d eaten his whole meal while she was still nibbling on her salad.

  Don’t look at him. Eat, she prompted herself. Yes, the salad was delicious, and the chicken sandwich one of the best she’d ever tasted.

  She gulped two glasses of wine and set the dessert plate aside. “Later. I’m too full. I’ll try to nap.”

  Silence hovered over the cabin. Brian and his companions must have drifted into a relaxing slumber.

  How on earth was she to handle such a man? A prince, damn it. Not only a powerful man with wealthy, powerful relatives, but a prince to top it all off. Which meant she shouldn’t let her attraction for him develop—absolutely not.

  Forget him right away. Ignore him. Treat him like one of those powerful, nasty men who eventually expect payment.

  Not Eric. No way, her heart protested. He’d had the opportunity to kiss her in the car and had resisted with amazing willpower. Eric must have known she would respond right away with all the heat burning in her body. Yet he hadn’t taken advantage of her tiredness.

  “So, you’re not sleeping.” Eric chuckled. “You haven’t even shut your eyes for more than two minutes. What’s going on in your head?”

  “Too many things.”

  “About the future?”

  “Huh...” More about the present. She glanced at him.

  “Is it something I can help you with?”

  “No...no. I’m just too tired to think straight, to relax.”

  “Maybe I can help.” He lifted the armrest separating them and unbuckled his seatbelt to face her. “If you don’t mind, I’ll massage your neck and shoulders.”

  Before she could recover from her surprise, he reached around her, squeezing and kneading, massaging her back, neck, and shoulders.

  Geez, she was practically in his arms. Unable to withstand the intensity of his gaze roaming over her face, she shut her eyes.

  “Feel better?”

  “Yeah.” Feel like heaven. His strong fingers rubbing her neck and kneading her back, his warm breath fanning her face. Absolute heaven.

  “I better stop.” His voice sounded husky and he suddenly withdrew his hands.

  “No, please.” Her eyes flew open.

  “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t...” Breathing hard, he straightened.

  “I’m sorry,” she started. “I didn’t realize your hands hurt.”

  “Not my hands, damn it. Ah, sorry, I can’t resist anymore... I mean I want...” He held her arms and caught her gaze.

  She understood his eyes more than his words. “I should resist, too, especially now that I know you’re a prince. But I want to...”

  His lips pressed on hers, not allowing her to finish her sentence. Surpri
sed and eager, she enjoyed the softness and fullness of his mouth as it molded to hers. His palms moved to cup her face, and his gentle kiss turned hot and passionate.

  Heart pounding, she leaned forward, parted her lips, and welcomed his tongue caressing, teasing and playing with hers. Her eyes closed. She forgot where she was and savored his mouth with the same ardor. When he released her, they both took a deep breath. His face mere inches from hers, he looked straight at her, his eyes gleaming.

  She smiled. “I’ve kissed a few toads before today. It’s the first time one turned into a prince.”

  “I’m not a real prince. Only a man attracted to you.”

  An odd silence stretched between them. She averted her gaze and leaned her head against the back of her seat.

  “If you want to sleep, I’ll make you more comfortable.” His arm stretched behind her back and wedged her head in the hollow of his shoulder, his free hand caressing her hair until she drifted off.

  “We will be landing in twenty minutes.” The loudspeaker announcement pierced through the fog of Eric’s sleep. He opened his eyes, blinked, and then smiled as he realized his cheek rested on Natalie’s silky hair and she was practically lying in his arms, her head snuggled against his chest, a faint flowery fragrance of her perfume or soap clinging to her shirt. He straightened and gently caressed her mussed hair.

  “Please adjust your seat to the upright position and buckle your seatbelt,” the pilot said over the intercom.

  Natalie jerked up, glanced right and left, and settled in her own seat. “Are we landing?”

  “Soon.”

  “Do I have time to stop by the lavatory for a minute?”

  “Make it a quick minute.”

  She nodded, rushed to the toilet, and returned swiftly. “I wish I had time to fix my hair. It’s a mess.” After buckling her seatbelt, she used her fingers to comb her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.

  “You look cute. You’re so beautiful, you’d look good even in a potato sack. But don’t worry. We’re not meeting anyone of importance before tomorrow. We’ll book rooms in a hotel for tonight.”

  The plane started its descent, reduced speed, and soon touched down.

  “Welcome to Boston,” the pilot said over the intercom.

  “We made it.” Eric squeezed his companion’s hand. “We’re in Boston, the three of us. Can you imagine that?” Forgetting the seatbelt holding him in place and digging into his stomach, he hugged her fiercely. “We managed to run away from Las Vegas and the throngs who wanted to hurt us.”

  Fear fluttered in her eyes, but she nodded.

  “We succeeded in the most difficult part of the plan. The rest should be easy.”

  “The rest? But we don’t have any plan for...for the rest. You’ll start working. I don’t know what we’ll do, Brian and I.”

  “Natalie, I’m not abandoning you.” He tilted her chin up and captured her gaze. “Just be positive. We’ll discuss things at the hotel over dinner. We’ll take one step at a time, as we did today, and hopefully things will work out. All right?”

  “All right.”

  The plane had stopped completely, and the copilot opened the door. Bob exited first, carrying Natalie’s overnight bag, then Ken, followed by Brian.

  Natalie slipped into her jacket. Eric shouldered his backpack and preceded her to the door. On the first step of the airstair, he stopped short at the sight of the tall man in a gray suit.

  Damn, why had Philip come to the airport?

  Eric had a feeling his plans were going down the drain. He climbed down before Natalie could start asking questions and refuse to come down.

  As soon as he reached the last step, Philip was at his side with a wide grin, shaking his hand, clapping his back and hugging him. “About time for you to come back. We all missed you.”

  Thrown off kilter by his cousin’s presence, Eric mumbled an automatic, “I missed you, too,” although the warmth of his cousin’s welcome touched his heart.

  “I already met young Brian.” Philip took a step forward toward Natalie. “You must be his sister, the famous ballerina-singer, Natalie Borikev.” He reached for her hand and shook it. “Welcome to Boston. I’m Philip Devereux.”

  “Nice to meet you, sir,” she said, her voice barely audible.

  “It looks like my young cousin lost his manners together with his money in Las Vegas.”

  Propelled out of his daze by Philip’s sharp glance, Eric muttered, “Huh, sorry, Natalie. I should have introduced...huh...my cousin, Prince Philip Devereux. My friend, Natalie Borikev, who is a brilliant dancer and singer, as you already know.” He turned to Natalie with an apologetic smile that froze as he noticed her I’m-going-to- kill-you look.

  Always the lord of the manor, Philip ignored him and tugged her toward a limousine waiting on the tarmac. “Please, go ahead.”

  She climbed in the back row, next to Brian. Eric settled next to her, and Philip across from them in one of the two bucket seats.

  “I can’t offer you a drink now because I’ve been instructed to bring you straight to my sister Charlene’s house.”

  “Oh... Ah.” Natalie’s elbow dug into Eric’s side.

  He got the message and protested. “Maybe we’d better stop by a hotel first to make ourselves presentable.”

  “More presentable than that?” Philip pointed at Eric’s leather jacket and burst out laughing. “Since when?”

  “True.” Eric chuckled. His family knew he’d never paid attention to appearances.

  A sharp pinch snapped him to reality. Obviously, Natalie didn’t want to go to his cousin’s mansion.

  “Listen, Philip. Just drop us for a few minutes at any hotel. Any one,” he said in desperation. He wished he could add, “I’m going to lose Natalie’s friendship before she even becomes my girlfriend.”

  Philip observed his guest carefully. “I’m supposed to fly to Denmark tomorrow morning. But I promised Charlene I’d stay for an early family dinner to welcome Eric and his guests. We can stop by your condo, Eric, for a few minutes.”

  “My condo?” Startled, Eric grabbed his cousin’s arm.

  Blinking a couple of times, Natalie lowered her head. “We escaped without taking much. I wouldn’t want you to be late on my account.”

  Ignoring Natalie’s polite protest, Eric wanted details. “I thought you rented my condo when I moved to Nevada.”

  “The latest tenants left two months ago, and we haven’t been able to rent it again. It’s waiting for you.”

  “That’s good news. Thanks for letting me have it now. By all means, let’s stop for a few minutes.” It would be great to be in his own place again, and he’d satisfy Natalie and allow her to refresh.

  Philip knocked on the partition and gave his orders to the driver. “Here’s a key, in case you lost yours.” He handed Eric a medallion.

  A moment later, the limousine slowed at the curb in front of a ten-story building. Eric jumped out and grabbed Natalie’s hand. “Come, see my humble abode.” He bowed with a flourish and snagged both his backpack and her overnight bag from the trunk.

  “We’ll wait for you here.” Philip relaxed against the back of his seat and thumbed on his phone.

  Preceding Natalie and her brother, Eric whistled all the way to the elevator, beaming with joy.

  “Wow, what a modern place. I can’t imagine why you left it.” Natalie surveyed the large open space harboring a brown leather sofa and chairs, mahogany cocktail and side tables in the living room area, and beyond, a glass dining room table with six brown velvet chairs. A granite isle topped with a bottle rack acted as a bar and separated the ultra-modern kitchen from the dining room. Had Eric ever cooked in this haven or only entertained guests for a drink?

  “There are two bedrooms with ensuite bathrooms. Choose one and make yourself comfortable. We have exactly five minutes,” Eric reminded her.

  “Brian, we’ve been wearing the same clothes all day. Take these and change.” Natalie handed him clean
clothes.

  Her heart beating with a mix of fear and hope, she entered a bedroom and hurried to the bathroom to wash her face and change clothes, blessing her lucky stars that she’d brought a couple of blouses, underwear and bras, all rolled in her overnight bag. The printed blue silk blouse had a few wrinkles at the waist but would do well over her blue jeans. Not that she had other pants to wear. In record time, she brushed her hair over her shoulders and applied her makeup. At least now she’d be presentable to Their Highnesses.

  With unexplainable resentment, she scanned the simple but elegant room, the maple dresser, green bedspread embroidered in beige and gold, and matching curtains.

  Geez, she didn’t belong here. She’d never fit into Eric’s high-class world. In Las Vegas, a bonding of misery, fear, and urgency had brought them together and cemented their attraction. But here, they were a world apart. His wealthy family had welcomed him with open arms, the repentant black sheep returning home with good intentions. He’d found his comfortable condo at his disposal, and tomorrow he’d resume a lucrative, stable job.

  And Natalie and Brian would be a hindrance he’d feel obligated to help. A charity case.

  Here in Boston, she had no house, no job, no prospect of earning a living and supporting herself and her brother once she spent Spencer’s check.

  Tears tickled her eyes. She blinked several times in an effort to stave off an inconvenient bout of sobbing.

  Banging on the door interrupted her moment of self-pity. “Natalie, we need to go,” Eric called.

  “I’m ready.” She opened her door.

  “You look gorgeous.” But his admiring smile morphed into a concerned grimace. “What’s wrong, Natalie?”