Ruling the Princess

by Christi Barth

  So she didn’t lower her voice one bit. Genny took a smoked salmon sandwich from the three-tiered silver tray that had been a gift to a long-dead queen from Marie Antoinette and said, “A boyfriend posted photos of the contents of my underwear drawer. He said that since I wasn’t wearing them, he didn’t think I’d mind. That it wasn’t at all obtrusive.”

  “Insolent, ignorant fool,” fumed her grandmother.

  Well, that hadn’t worked. Although it was always nice to have her gran leap to her defense. So she could talk about underwear, but Theo couldn’t talk about sex? The lines were very blurred in today’s tea. To a surreal degree. Almost to the point where she’d feel comfortable admitting that she and Theo were dating.

  Almost.

  But that would do more harm than good.

  Mathilde jumped in with yet another example. “And a so-called close friend took a picture of her crying at her mother’s grave after her twenty-first birthday party. Such a personal, private moment. Ruined. Tainted.”

  “That was by far the worst,” Genevieve admitted. Because the two women in this room had been the ones to hold her, to comfort her, when that story broke. Her grandmother had flown back from a visit to her relatives in Italy. She’d taken Genny to her sitting room, pulled a bottle of Cognac out, and proceeded to get a little bit tipsy with her granddaughter.

  And she’d shared her own stories of betrayal in the most frank conversation they’d ever had. Of private moments snatched away and made public. Then she’d told Genny that she couldn’t trust anyone fully who wasn’t a family member. That it was the lesson she most regretted teaching her.

  So it was…fascinating that these women were sharing these stories with Theo.

  True, they were stories already “out there.” They weren’t revealing any details that the whole world didn’t know. Was it because they assumed his vetting and discretion with her private finances proved Theo was trustworthy? Was it his demeanor? His obvious respect? Or all of the above?

  Theo got to his feet, clearly outraged. He paced along the thick border of the Oriental carpet. “Nobody deserves an all-access pass to your life. Not to any of you. Being royal doesn’t mean you’re their property.”

  “I hope you mean that, Lord Theo. Especially as you prepare your report to share with Parliament.”

  Aha. Perhaps her cagy relatives were using these stories. She’d requested this tea for them to highlight their conservation efforts, as well as to strong-arm Theo about his factory idea.

  But the Grand Duchess had decades of experience dancing with Parliament and a string of prime ministers. Maybe she’d decided to kill three birds with one stone at this tea. Safeguard her granddaughter and their family by exhorting Theo to, well, not be a disrespectful jerk as he carried out his duties.

  Feeling more chipper about the entire discussion, Genny beamed at Theo. “He’ll do what he needs to—with discretion and honesty. We can’t ask for more than that.”

  And the difference was that for the first time since their contentious meeting at his office, Genny believed it. She believed she’d gotten through to him on some points, bent on others.

  Agreed to not get a new phone every time there was an upgrade. And he’d seen that the floral budget was actually reasonable since they propagated many of the flowers in royal gardens across the country. She’d held firm on her generous annual bonuses to staff, paid for from her own account on top of their official payroll. But acceded to his insistence that she fly commercial for solo trips.

  But where she’d gotten through the most was in chipping at the enormous block on his shoulder he had about the royal family. The mysterious reason he’d seemed to hate all of them seemed to have disappeared. It was obvious he not only respected the House of Villani now, but liked them.

  This audit wouldn’t turn out horribly. Genevieve wouldn’t be embarrassed. Her budget would end up being a non-issue as far as the vote to join the European Union. There was nothing to be stressed about any longer.

  Except for the fact that the more time she spent with Theo, the harder she fell for him. This man who might be jetting back off to America in a matter of weeks. But that wasn’t the real stumbling block.

  No, there was a far bigger reason that she couldn’t be with Theo…no matter what.

  It would invalidate the audit, make a mockery of the process, and thus humiliate her family. The vote on joining the EU would be compromised. Rather than making a choice about what was best for the country, the story would be about her bed partner.

  Which made being with Theo the worst thing for the country.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Theo had never been so appreciative of his smartphone as when sitting with his thumb up his ass being forced to wait on the prime minister.

  Oh, it was a power play. No question about it. Simon had done a little reconnaissance prior to today’s meeting. They’d learned back in boarding school that knowledge was power.

  That applied to knowing which House prefect nipped at the sherry and fell asleep before lights out, making it easy to slip out undetected. It applied to doing more than due diligence on a company that looked flashy and prosperous on first pass but on the third revealed hidden debts barely being covered personally by C suite.

  It definitely applied to the head of a government calling him in for a meeting only halfway through his assignment. His audit was not supposed to have any outside influence. Theo had considered rejecting the request to meet. But after hanging with the female royals two days ago, it felt only fair to give the PM equal time. Even though she shouldn’t want to talk to him. She should only want his finished report on her desk.

  It’d put Theo’s hackles up, which was why Simon had done some digging. It turned out that the PM, Vira Skaggit, a former judge, was obsessed with fairness, obeying the rule of law.

  Or at least the appearance of it. Because Simon had unearthed quite a few rumors about an unseemly side to the PM. That, in her chambers, “fair” actually meant “whatever the PM preferred.” That you fell in step with her or you fell out of a job.

  Simon had also managed—Theo made sure not to ask how—to confirm that the PM had no meetings on the schedule prior to Theo’s. No contentious votes about to take place. No breaking discord among the members of Parliament. In other words, no reason at all to keep Theo sitting in her outer office for twenty minutes past their appointed time.

  But if she was trying to sweat him, to intimidate him, it damn well wouldn’t work.

  It did piss Theo off.

  Nobody would know it, though. Especially not the secretary who kept giving him a far from subtle eye every five minutes. Nor the security guard who kept his beady eyes trained on Theo like he expected him to grab the jewel-encrusted paperweight of the Moncriano crest and bolt.

  No, Theo sat there, smiling, chuckling, texting as if he was thrilled to have this extra time to catch up on social media.

  Yes, he did enjoy watching the replay of the winning goal in the latest Champions League game.

  Didn’t have to fake laugh at a dating horror story a friend from Manhattan sent him about their attempt to impress a performance artist by taking her to dinner at the Rainbow Room.

  And Theo loved picturing the pink tint that had to be rising in Genevieve’s cheeks as she read the lengthy, detailed sext he sent about the plan he had for tonight. It involved her, her opulent bathtub, and a loofah.

  He’d sit out here, without getting hot under the collar—visibly, anyway—all the damn day, if it put Skaggit off whatever game she intended.

  The secretary cleared her throat. Not like she had allergies, but in a pay attention to me way. “Lord Holst? Madam Prime Minister will see you now.”

  Excellent. He’d take that as a win of this first set.

  Theo pocketed his device and strode into the large office. The blue and white flag of Moncriano drooped in o
ne corner off a bronze pole topped by a peacock with tanzanite eyes. An intricately carved wooden desk was centered in front of a large window that looked out over the square and the capital city.

  That placement alone told Theo all he needed to know. Someone who truly appreciated the view would’ve had the desk facing it. Instead, Skaggit wanted to impress visitors with it.

  He had a feeling the Grand Duchess, were she to use such a colloquialism, would label the woman a poser.

  Skaggit didn’t budge from behind her desk to greet him, either. Yet again asserting who was in charge in the room. On a deep inhale, she brushed back thick white bangs, as if symbolically clearing what she had previously been working on from her head.

  The setting, the gesture—it was all so contrived. Theo couldn’t wait to tell Genevieve.

  Except that he shouldn’t. He should remember that the princess wasn’t just his girlfriend—she was his assignment, his mission. Telling her that the PM gave him bad vibes wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t influence his report, but it could influence how the royal family interacted with the minister at this very combustible, dicey time.

  Theo knew all of that. But he still wanted to tell Genny, his girlfriend, about how this attempt to play him would unfold.

  Damn it.

  Just another unnecessary reminder that not only should he not be with Genevieve, but he could not be in the future, or his entire report might be regarded as compromised. Then it’d be invalidated. His reputation would be shredded.

  Blah, blah, blah.

  “Lord Holst. Thank you for making time in your day.”

  With a nod of his head, Theo said, “It is quite literally your time, Madam Prime Minister. I serve at your pleasure.” There. That ought to smarm her up enough to move things forward.

  “How is your audit progressing?”

  “Smoothly.” Until he knew what she wanted, Theo wouldn’t give Skaggit anything but bare-bones answers.

  “Will it be completed on schedule?”

  Ah, the first clue as to where she was headed. He’d have to ask Simon to find out what was happening at the beginning of September. What was she so concerned about cross-contaminating with the release of his report?

  “I don’t recall you giving me a deadline.” In fact, he knew to a certainty that there was no such thing. And if pushed? Theo would counter she should’ve made her stipulations known up front. He wouldn’t be rushed. Especially if the goal behind rushing him was to get him to overlook something. “But, barring any unforeseen developments, it should be completed within the eight-week window which I originally forecast.”

  She ran a fountain pen through her fingers, back and forth. Theo would bet his entire annual salary that it was 1) an antique and 2) Skaggit couldn’t produce anything more than ink blots with it.

  “I hear you’re making quite the impression with the royal family. Lots of trips to the palace, lots of time with Princess Genevieve.”

  There was zero possibility she was hinting that she knew he and Genny had, ah…leveled up, as it were. They were too careful to risk any exposure. So the PM was, what—worried about the time he spent talking to the royal family? Why would she be worried?

  What was her angle? Because there sure as hell was one.

  With total honesty, Theo said, “It’s a hands-on discovery process. I couldn’t be thorough in my report without such interactions.”

  “Of course. But you don’t want any appearance of it being excessive.”

  “What being excessive, precisely?”

  Capping the pen and setting it in the curlicued gold holder, she said, “The time you spend with them.”

  “I assure you I spend far more time with my head buried in spreadsheets. I’ll have to ask my assistant why she hasn’t alerted the paparazzi to snap my crooked-necked posing in front of my dual monitors.”

  Behind her rimless glasses, the woman glowered at him. “Do you think this is a joke, Lord Theo?”

  “No, ma’am. Well, to clarify, the job I’m doing for you certainly isn’t. The number of times the paps have snapped me with the royals? That’s a hysterical joke. It should come with its own laugh track.” Although the paparazzi weren’t his biggest problem anymore. It was sounding more and more like the PM had a spy in the palace. He and Genny would have to be ten times more careful.

  “Glibness does not suit an auditor.” She clipped out the words as crisply as if each were an ice chip being crunched.

  “See, that’s the thing—the numbers don’t care who I am or for my charmingly glib personality. They simply are.”

  The volume of her voice rose in what he assumed was an equal proportion to her frustration with him. “Then why do you spend so much time with people and not your precious numbers?”

  Did she think he wouldn’t have an answer? Because the time he spent during working hours with Genevieve, with her grandmother, with the royal purser—all of it was above board.

  None of it was an excuse to spend more time with the beautiful princess. They kept their…extracurriculars to off hours. The ability to see the whole picture and not just a column of numbers was what had polished his sterling reputation in the field.

  Theo curled his fingers around the edge of the desk and leaned forward to drop some wisdom on her.

  “Because the numbers don’t always tell the whole story. You’re having me look into a personal budget, Minister. That’s a very different animal than just taking a spin through corporate ledgers.”

  His answer hung in the air between them, like a cartoon thought bubble. Weighty. Full of import which he was now sure that the minister didn’t want to acknowledge.

  “How do you find them to be? The royal family?” she asked, in an abrupt change of tactic.

  A pulsing neon sign over her desk wouldn’t be any more clear of an indicator. Something about the House of Villani had her shaking in her shoes.

  But what? The royal family didn’t interfere in the politics of the day. Not technically. They were turning themselves inside out not to influence the country in any way about the EU vote.

  Theo didn’t know what answer was the right one for the PM. He rolled the dice in favor of being polite.

  “I haven’t been back in the country long enough to comment on the monarchy. But I find them to be good, caring people.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes?” He deliberately lifted his voice into a question at the end, fishing for whatever hook she was trying to dangle.

  “This will be your only warning. Remember who hired you.”

  What the hell? Was this a test? Theo released his grip on the desk. He leaned back, propping one ankle on his knee. “It doesn’t matter who signed my contract. And it certainly doesn’t influence the outcome of my report.”

  Skaggit shoved back her chair. She stood, keeping one arm in a very posed extension across the high wooden back of the chair. “You don’t think I hired you simply because you speak the language, do you?”

  Partially?

  With tourism and diplomacy accounting for most of their economy, the populace was almost universally fluent in English. So few non-natives bothered to learn the actual language of the country. Finding a high-level auditor who did would’ve been like hunting for a full beer leftover in the stands of a soccer match.

  But Theo went with a bold approach. “I assume you were swayed by my top-notch letters of recommendation. Not to mention my impeccable track record.”

  She slapped so hard on the chair that it almost toppled over. Then she finally came out from behind the desk, stalking over to him with a fast stride. After bracing her fists at the waist of her white pantsuit, Skaggit swallowed down a big breath, puffing out her chest.

  “I have it from a very reliable source that you hate the royal family, Lord Theo. That you, in fact, loathe them. That’s how I knew you were the rig
ht man for me. For the job, that is.”

  Ahhhh.

  Now…well, he still didn’t see where she was ultimately going, but at least he understood what she wanted from him. The questions about getting to know the members of the House of Villani, worry about his time at the palace, concern that he’d be there long enough to see their true—and very decent—colors.

  The prime minister wanted him to do a hatchet job. She wanted him to humiliate the princess. Possibly the entire House of Villani.

  Until Theo found out why, he’d have to play along. Fairness be damned. If Skaggit was gunning for the royal family, they deserved to know.

  It was, in fact, his duty as a loyal subject.

  Man, that was a thought Theo had never anticipated coming out of his brain.

  First, he wouldn’t let her keep looming over him. Theo stood and crossed to the bookshelf full of burgundy leather tomes of what he assumed to be the long version of How to Govern 101.

  Second? He’d bluff like crazy. With appropriate attitude. He made a miniscule adjustment to the Windsor knot of his yellow necktie. “I can neither confirm nor deny any such base rumors.”

  “What sort of nonsense—” she began heatedly and then immediately broke off after seesawing her gaze between the window and the two doors. “Are you concerned that my office is bugged? Are you scared to admit the truth?”

  Theo blinked slowly, the words slamming into his heart.

  The truth?

  The truth was that he used to despise the House of Villani. Both the people in it as well as what they stood for.

  The truth was…that he didn’t anymore.

  The truth was that he’d finally looked beneath the glitz and sparkle of the crown. He’d seen the enormous, generous, devoted hearts of the Villanis.

  Nor was it based solely on his personal interactions. He’d discovered two wide veins of philanthropy in Genny’s books that, from a cursory investigation, were also mirrored in Christian’s and the king’s. One that was public and included public appearances and patronages. And a second string of charitable donations which they did not publicize. They simply funneled considerable amounts of their own money where it was needed.