by Amelia Wilde
“There you are!” A clear voice cuts across the patio, breaking the spell. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
I look over my shoulder to see a pretty blonde, who only appears to be a little older than the angel I’ve found. Her hair is tied back, and she’s wearing a dark silk gown. When she sees me, she stops moving, and her eyes widen.
“Are you…?” Her voice trails off as she stares at me.
My attention is pulled away when the one I want struggles out of my arms and rushes to her side.
She takes the blonde woman’s hand and whispers. “I’m so sorry, Zee. I didn’t mean to…”
I’ve had enough of all this. I’m the king, dammit. “Who are you?” I demand. “Who did you come here with?”
“Good evening, your majesty.” The one called Zee does a little curtsey, but before I can respond, I see a face that changes my burning need to raw fury.
The beautiful woman is momentarily forgotten along with her friend. I cross the space as the heat rises to my eyes.
“How dare you step foot in this place,” I say through clenched teeth. “How dare you step foot in this country!”
Reginald Winchester stands in front of me, his cold blue eyes narrow as he evaluates my response. “Your majesty,” he says in a voice dripping with insolence.
My late father’s suggestion of the guillotine floats through my mind. “You’ve got ten seconds to leave here before I order the guard to throw you out.”
Reginald only sneers down his nose. We’re the same six-foot-two height, and I am not intimidated by his scowl. “You might want to hold the threats until you hear what I have to say.”
I can barely control my anger. One of my first acts was to banish him from Monagasco along with his scheming cousin Hubert and the rest of their traitorous ring. He conspired against my father, and I hold him indirectly responsible for my father’s death. If it weren’t for this disloyal asshole, I’d still have a life. I wouldn’t be forced into the life of an inundated monarch at twenty-seven.
I’d still have my father.
My jaw is clenched so hard, I can barely speak. “There’s not a word you can say that will change my mind—”
“Your mother invited me here.”
My mother?! I can’t decide if I want to shout or throw something. My own mother went behind my back? It doesn’t make any sense. Only last week she was saying how proud she was of me for cleaning house.
“You’re lying.”
“Ask her yourself.” He walks fluidly to where the two young women stand.
The blonde has positioned herself in front of my angel, and while she’s strong, I can tell they’re both afraid of what’s happening here. I can’t help wondering who they are and how they’re related to this traitor. I have to believe an explanation exists I can accept.
My uncle fills in the blanks. “Your majesty, Rowan Westringham Tate, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Zelda Benedict and Miss Ava Wilder.” He leans closer to me, and I flinch away. “Miss Benedict is the heir to Lux Benedict of San Angelo.” He pauses as if waiting for me to understand. “Texas.”
“How do you do,” I give them a little bow, but my anger is barely controlled below the surface. “I don’t see how this changes my direct order.”
“If you please.” He gestures for me to walk ahead with him. I only comply out of simple curiosity.
“Miss Benedict recently inherited a quarter of a billion in oil from her late uncle. Your mother thought it would be a nice idea if the two of you spent some time together.” He glances back over his shoulder and smiles. “In case anything happens.”
As angry as I am with Reginald, when I glance back and see Ava, the fist of anger in my chest loosens slightly. I know Reggie’s schemes. I kicked him out for conspiring with Hubert against my father, but unlike Hubert, I know my uncle still desires independence for Monagasco. It’s in his blood. Also, lurking in the back of my mind is the notion that time spent in Miss Benedict’s presence equals time spent with Miss Wilder.
“Where are they staying?”
“They currently have rooms at the Fairmont.”
Nodding, I look down and clear my throat. My mind wanders from the sea of females in the ballroom to the one I found lingering in the moonlight, drinking in the sound of the waves, just like me.
“I’m willing to overlook your audacity this time.” When my sharp gaze meets Reginald’s gloating expression, I have to fight the urge to pop him in the mouth. “Only because I know you’re loyal to Monagasco.”
“I live to serve my country.” He does a little bow.
I push past him, returning to where the blonde Miss Benedict stands with her friend Miss Wilder. Our close proximity stirs the desire only momentarily cooled in my chest, and I have to force my eyes away from the lovely brunette.
“Miss Benedict, forgive my rudeness. I’m delighted to welcome you.”
Ava steps away, taking my insides with her, but her friend smiles and nods her head as she bows. “It’s an honor, your royal highness.”
My eyes have followed Ava when I realize what Zelda just said. “Call me Rowan, please.”
She straightens, and her blue eyes meet mine. “Then you must call me Zee.”
Her voice commands my attention. She’s smart. I like that. Although her friend has stolen my fascination, getting to know Zee Wilder might be interesting. I’ll see what Reggie has in mind for this partnership and if there’s any way I can help the country while pursuing what I really want.
5
Two Princes
Zelda
Sometimes I wonder if Ava and I are truly related. Stepping out of the sleek black Mercedes into the blinding strobe of camera flashes at the entrance to the Royal Sports Club, I feel like a fish who just leaped out of her bowl.
I can barely breathe. I can’t see a thing, thanks to the paparazzi. The bustier bodice on my black tulle and satin formal gown is pinching me in half. I know I’ll walk like I’m in a body brace through the crowd of nobility—that is, if I can stay upright on my too-tall stilettoes.
My sister, by contrast, sweeps out of the Town Car in her flowing dusty-rose gown as if she were born in this scene. I swear, she seems to move in sparkling slow motion, and as she turns to smile at me over her shoulder, her dark hair swirls around her arms in a shiny curtain. A ripple of whispers passes through the crowd as everyone tries to figure out who we are.
Reggie is right behind us, nearly bumping into me as I lean down to adjust my heel.
“Watch it!” I have to grab his arm to keep from falling.
His smile is plastered, and he looks straight ahead. “Hold steady. Every single one of those flashes is a photograph. You don’t want to look like a shrew on tomorrow’s gossip sites—or constipated.”
Freezing a smile on my face, I lower my leg, push back my shoulders and make my way as quickly as possible to the entrance. The sooner we’re off this freakin red carpet, the better.
“What happened to Miami?” Reginald huffs once we’re safely in the building and out of the strobe lights. “You waltzed through that casino like a supermodel on a catwalk.”
“I was wearing a romper and platforms. You’ve got me in a corset and stripper heels.” I gasp, straightening a pinch of skin near my ribcage. “I’m starving, and this damned dress is too tight.”
“You’re wearing Gaultier and Louboutin. The finest designers in France.”
“I look like a demented ballerina… or a dominatrix who got off at the wrong stop.”
“Look at me.” His tone is stern, and he stops short.
I look up at his face, and over his shoulder, I notice Ava is ahead of us peeking into the ballroom where a rainbow of lights flashes and music plays loudly.
“Eyes,” he orders, and mine snap to his. “You actually look quite lovely tonight. You’re every bit Miss Zelda Benedict, the richest woman in Texas.” His expression softens, and the unexpected warmth makes my insides squirm. I start to move away but larg
e hands grasp the tops of my bare shoulders. “You’ve got this.”
My lips twist, and for a moment I feel obstinate. “I want to be at the beach.”
He laughs gently. “Tomorrow you can spend the day at the beach. You only have to be noticed tonight. In a positive way.”
Nodding, I slide my hand into the crook of his arm, and we start for the ballroom. Holding his arm helps me balance as I walk, and once we reach the large space filled with men and women in formal attire, I start to relax. The venue is very crowded, and it’s more like a nightclub than something out of the eighteenth century, which is what I expected when he said royal ball.
Purple and red lights shine from the ceiling to the floor in large spots, and a DJ is in the back corner spinning smooth techno. Looking around, I can’t spot Ava, which makes me nervous. I’m not sure how proficient she is with our story.
We opted with her being my friend instead of my sister. It was my idea, as I figured it would be easier for her to make a quick escape if we were caught.
Reggie and I take a slow pace around the perimeter, until we’re taken up short.
An elegant older woman snaps at my escort. “How dare you show your face here tonight?” I have no idea who she is, but she’s someone powerful enough to chastise Reggie.
“Forgive me, your grace.” Reggie bows, and for the first time, I see him genuinely meek.
“Rowan will be furious! You’ll ruin all my plans.” Her eyes flash, and I take a subtle half step behind him, hoping in my black dress I blend into the rave atmosphere.
“Not if I come bearing gifts,” he says, motioning to me. “Would introducing him to the heiress to the Benedict oil fortune appease my nephew’s wrath?”
I actually feel the moment her ice blue eyes spot me. “Come here, girl,” she barks the order, and I dutifully step forward on my needle-thin heels.
“Zelda, may I present the Queen of Monagasco,” Reggie says.
The words make my pulse jump. Holding the side of my dress, I do a careful curtsey, bowing my head. “Your majesty.”
“You’re Zelda Benedict? Daughter of the Texas oil tycoon?”
“Niece, actually, ma’am.” My head is still bowed, both because I don’t want to risk her reading my expression and because I’m not sure when it’s okay to rise.
“That’s enough, you may rise.”
Straightening, I see she’s stepped closer to me. Our eyes are about the same height, which means she’s taller than me. She also bears a striking resemblance to Reggie…
“You’re here to meet my son, is that so?”
“I’m sorry, your majesty, I’m here as a guest of Sir Winchester. My… friend and I met him in Texas, and he has been gracious enough to escort us to your beautiful country on a holiday visit—”
“Yes, yes,” she waves a hand between us as if she’s heard enough. “That will do. You might as well get in line with the rest of them. The crown prince has danced with almost every girl here tonight, and I haven’t seen a spark of interest in any of them.” She shakes her head and turns. “Unless you count that first dance with Fredrick’s niece. Of course, he chooses a lesbian to have chemistry with.”
Her statement catches me off-guard, and I almost laugh. “Thank you, ma’am,” I say and do another careful curtsey-bow.
“Come with me, Reggie. I’ll allow you to tell me your plan, and perhaps I can soften my son’s anger.” The woman takes his arm and pulls him away. He looks back and gives me an arched eyebrow and a slight nod.
I flick an eyebrow in response. I know what to do. I have two purposes tonight: to be seen and to make a positive impression. I do my best not to be annoyed every time Reggie emphasizes the word positive, as if I might do otherwise.
With him gone and everyone focused elsewhere, I take a moment to exhale slowly. We’re here, we’re doing this. The song changes to a dance tune I know from home, and I close my eyes as the beats wash over me like soothing water. If things were different, I’d go out on the floor and give in to the rhythm. As it is…
“Oh!” I yip, nearly jumping out of my skin when a strong hand closes over mine.
“Sorry.” A low, accented voice vibrates near my ear, causing the little hairs to rise on my skin. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Mademoiselle.”
“No, it’s okay,” I say quickly.
He scared the shit out of me, but that luscious accent is to die for. My poker face is firmly intact—until our eyes meet, and I almost forget everything. His are warm hazel with the most irresistible, devilish twinkle in them. He has wavy, light-brown hair that my fingers itch to caress, and he’s wearing a navy military jacket, which surprisingly turns me on. I’ve never been into military men before… most likely because of my checkered past. I run away from men in uniform.
Actually, in the past I’ve done my best to avoid all male entanglements entirely. If I’m going to take care of us, I can’t afford such distractions. Whoever this sexy soldier is, I can tell one thing right away. He’s a player, from the dimple at the corner of his mouth to the scruff dusting his square jaw. He smiles, and my stomach flips.
“I don’t think we’ve met.” That naughty grin grows a little wider. “You’re American?”
I take a step back. Focus on the job, Zelda Wilder. Focus on that ten thousand dollars.
“No,” I say, clearing my throat. “I mean yes! I’m visiting. I’m here with my… friend!”
Jesus! That’s twice I’ve almost said my sister! And I was worried about Ava being confident in her role.
“Visiting?” He slides a warm hand around my waist and pulls me flush against his torso. A brief kiss to my cheek steals my breath. “Is that so? Tell me more.”
A sultry dance song begins, and we sway together. I have to hand it to this guy. He’s good. Still, I’m no rookie, and I force my control back in place. I haven’t worked the angles as long as I have to be thrown off by the first charmer I meet.
“My friend and I are from Texas. I’ve always wanted to see Monagasco, so she came over with me.”
“It is your first time in our country?” His smile grows and that dimple deepens. “I’ll show you everything. Where are you staying? We can meet in the morning—”
“No! I mean… I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
“What? Why the hell not?”
“Because I’m… well…”
“You’re…?” His eyes narrow playfully, and I’m racking my brain for an acceptable excuse. I can’t say I’m here to accidentally meet someone in particular.
“Oh! I already have a guide!” Real smooth, Zee.
“Is that so?” He’s not buying it. “Who?”
Luckily we’re interrupted by the sudden appearance of Reggie. “Cal, what a pleasant surprise.” The tone of his voice implies just the opposite, and he grips the shoulder of my dance partner firmly, forcing us apart.
“Holy… What the fuck are you doing here?” Sir Sexy Cal snaps. “You know what will happen when he sees you. It will ruin HRH’s ball.”
Reggie ignores his words. “I see you’ve met my friend Zelda Benedict.” Yanking me to his side, Reggie motions between us. “Zelda, this is MacCallum Lockwood Tate, younger brother of the crown prince, heir presumptive, captain of the Carabiniers, and Duke of Dumaldi.”
Something about all those titles makes my head spin. How is it possible I find this guy even more attractive once I know I’m supposed to be seducing his brother?
Taking a half step back, I start my bow, but Cal’s warm hand covers mine. “My friends call me Cal, and absolutely none of them bow to me… Unless they get off on that sort of thing. Do you?”
My cheeks heat, and dammit if I don’t want to kiss those royal lips. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir. I had no idea I’d be surrounded by so much nobility my first night in town.”
Cal moves around to my other side, avoiding Reggie’s cock blocking, and pulls my hand into the crook of his arm. “Now about that tour guide. You can’t tell me Sir Reginald is
showing you around. Mon Dieu, he’ll probably take you to the aquarium.”
I want to laugh. His manner is irresistible, but I feel Reggie’s gaze burning a hole in my back. “I’m sorry, your majesty—”
“Cal—please.”
“Cal.” I pull my hand back. “I’m sorry, but I already promised the duke.”
“I’m a duke! Didn’t you hear all that shit he said after my name? I’d make a far better tour guide.”
I can’t suppress a smile, and Cal’s eyes light. “Yes, that’s much better. Why don’t we start our tour with the royal bedrooms?”
“That will be quite enough for tonight.” Reggie reaches between us and jerks me away. I have to grab his arm to stay upright on my heels—with a new added hazard: Cal’s breathtaking smile. “We need to find your friend and bid our adieus.”
Reggie drags me away, but I can’t resist a look back at the tall, slender fellow in the tuxedo. His arms are crossed, and he actually winks as he places one hand on his lips. Is he sending me a kiss?
I’m out the door and on the balcony, but my head’s in a dreamy haze of MacCallam Lockwood Tate, brother of the crown prince, some kind of soldier, and duke of somethingorother.
Reggie steps away from me in a rush and begins talking fast French to a tall man with longish dark hair. I squint to try and see who it is. He’s also wearing a black tuxedo jacket with medals and a sash across the front.
It takes me a moment to realize Ava is at my arm apologizing, and then, holy shit, it’s him! Reggie’s back, and I’m facing Crown Prince Rowan Something Something. I recognize him from the photographs Reggie showed me, and he’s even hotter and more intimidating in person.
“Your royal highness Rowan Westringham Tate, I’d like to introduce you to Miss Zelda Benedict of Texas and Miss Ava Wilder.”
“How do you do,” the crown prince bows stiffly, but before anything more is said, he and Reggie stalk away from us, again embroiled in a heated conversation I can’t understand.
Ava drifts toward the ballroom, but I wait and watch the two men. With a chiseled jaw and simmering blue eyes, he’s as handsome in person as he is in his pictures. From the way he holds himself, I’m sure he knows it, too.