by Amelia Wilde
When my eyes blink open, he’s giving me that look again, like he’s waiting for me to give him the signal. Instead I turn and continue walking down the steps, holding the wide, marble rail for balance.
“I thought we were going to see the deep sea room.” My voice is only a little wobbly, not nearly as wobbly as my insides.
He lets out a little sigh and heads down ahead of me, quickly descending the staircase as if he’s done it a hundred times. “Come on, then.”
I get myself together and follow him. This prince seriously throws me off my game. I’ve got to remember who I am. I’m Zelda Wilder, professional con woman. This isn’t my first rodeo. Still, that’s one irresistible cowboy…
Inside the dark room, a woman with two small children is walking around. She lifts them, helping them touch the ceiling and watching as they squeal when the computer-generated fish swarm to where their hands land.
I’m frozen on the spot watching something so basic and wondering why a sight like this still has the power to shred me. Ava was too little to remember our mom, but I remember her taking us to the park, helping me climb the ladder of the small kiddie slide, squealing when I made it to the bottom. I thought that slide was so huge, but looking back, I know it was probably shorter than I am now. Those days were golden… and then they were gone.
“You’re a million miles away, beautiful.” Cal is at my side. His voice is warm, and I notice his fingers lightly playing with mine. Everything in me wants to give in, but dammit, that’s not why we’re here. Our future, that promise I made to Ava, is on the line. I won’t give it up for some weeklong fling with a sexy player.
“I’m a million miles under the sea!” I answer brightly, pulling my hand away and walking across the room. “How does it work?”
I reach up and touch the ceiling and the entire room shifts in my direction. Fish flock to me, circling my hand. The woman follows the children out, and we’re alone again.
“It’s some computer jazz. I have no idea.”
“That’s not your job?” I do a little wink, and his expression seems to falter. Is it possible I throw him off his game, too?
“Precisely,” he says, reaching up to touch the low ceiling. The school moves in response to him.
“No fair! You stole my fish.”
“Here, I’ll bring them back.” He walks slowly toward me, trailing long fingers along the smooth surface above us.
His expression grows darker with every step, and my heart beats faster the closer he gets. I can play it off, but my body betrays me. I feel the flush blooming over my chest, rising up my neck.
When he arrives at where I’m standing, he slides his hand forward, taking one last step that puts our bodies together. Our hands touch, our faces are a breath apart. His firm chest is warm against my tingling nipples. The space between us is electric. Neon-green fish circle us overhead, swimming forward to kiss our fingertips.
“I want to kiss you again.” His dark eyes are on my heated lips.
“We can’t.” My breath is shallow. This is so messed up, but I can’t pull away from him.
“How long will you be here, Zelda Benedict?”
“Umm… A week?”
“Are you not sure?”
“We’re not on a deadline.”
His breath touches my cheek. “About that kiss…”
Oh my god. “We’d better find Ava and Rowan.”
“Are you afraid?”
Yes, very. “I… I didn’t come here for this.”
Jesus, I’ve never been good at seduction, but I’ll be damned if his expression doesn’t grow darker with every word. I lower my hand slowly, not wanting to leave our magic, undersea bubble.
“Why did you come here?”
My eyes travel around the undersea exhibit as I think of a good answer. “I’d never been to Monagasco.” At least it’s not a lie.
“Zee…” His voice aches in my chest, and the bargaining begins.
Would it truly mess up our deal if I give in to him? Would anybody even know? Would anybody even care? Holy shit, Zelda Scott Wilder! Of course they would! It would ruin everything!
Stepping back, I turn to the door and cover for my running from him in the most juvenile way possible: “Last one to the top’s a rotten egg!”
What I don’t count on is Cal being as competitive as I am. He’s past me in a flash, and even catches my shoulder, pushing me backwards, almost making me fall.
“Cheater!” I squeal through my laughter as I try to keep up.
“Eat my dust!” He takes the wide stairs two at a time, while I’m still scampering like a duck.
“Damn these damn stupid steps!” I cry.
When I finally reach the top, he’s leaning against a massive pillar with a giant bronze sea horse on top looking at his nails. “Hmm… what is that smell? Could it be you, Miss Rotten Egg?”
“You cheated!” I push hard against his chest. “You shoved me backwards!”
“I always win.”
He catches my hands, and when our eyes meet we’re right back where we were in the basement. MacCallam Lockwood Tate is going to ruin my life.
“Come on,” I say, pulling away and heading in the direction I last saw Ava. “Dangers of the Sea” is what I think it said. It should be “Dangers of the Palace.” Reggie didn’t say anything about sexy younger brothers.
When we make it to the black-lit exhibit of jellyfish, sea anemones, and all other kinds of stinging fish, Ava gives me a look, and the worry in her eyes hits me like a sledgehammer. I am seriously screwing up everything.
She’s probably been wondering where the hell I’ve been, and I just abandoned her to figure it out. As I approach, she hurries to me and catches my hand, holding me back as the guys walk on ahead of us.
“We should go back to the hotel.” She sounds stressed, and I feel even worse. “It’s after three, and we’re supposed to have dinner with them at seven.”
Nodding, I give her hand a reassuring squeeze, mentally noting how much it reassures me as well.
“Hey, guys?” I call out before I realize… Is it okay to address a crown prince as guy? Must be because they’re all smiles strolling back to us. “We should probably head back if we’re meeting for dinner. It’s gotten late.”
“Of course, I’m sorry.” Rowan says, his eyes drifting to Ava. “I hope we didn’t tire you too much for dinner?”
“I don’t think so,” I answer. “Just need time to freshen up.”
His eyes remain on my sister, but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t even make eye contact with him or Cal. It’s because she’s mad at me. I feel so guilty.
Although we walked to the museum, Rowan insists we take his car back. Less than ten minutes later we’re in our luxury suite in the Fairmont. I walk straight through the sitting room and fall on my stomach on the sea-green sofa.
“Holy smokes, I’m dead!”
Ava perches on the edge of a chair facing me, and I watch as she pulls a delicate gold chain from her pocket. Dangling in evenly spaced increments are a tiny starfish, a seahorse, a sand dollar, a pirate’s wheel.
“Let me see it!” I hop up and go to where she’s sitting, examining the pretty bracelet. “Where did you get it?”
“Off the wrist of a tour guide,” she says, turning it over in her hands. “I wanted something to remember this day.”
“So it’s a little something for you this time? How selfish!” I give her a wink and sit back on my knees beside her.
“You’re right. I was very selfish.” Her voice is quiet, almost sad.
“You’d also be off-balance. You still have to find someone special to give that herringbone bracelet.”
Her pink lips press together, and she blinks down to the carpet. “I think I’ll skip the dinner tonight.”
“Skip dinner! Are you sick?” I press my palm against her forehead. “No fever.”
She shakes her head. “I got a little dizzy at the aquarium. I think I just need to sleep.”
“I’
ll text Reggie that we can’t make it tonight.”
“No!” Her hand shoots out, grabbing my phone. “You have to make the most of this. Get his attention, one on one.”
I study her face. It’s a mixture of happiness and misery, and again, I feel like a traitor.
“I’m sorry I left you so long. I kind of got… tied up with Cal in the deep sea room.” Memories of his kiss, of his touch filter through my mind, and I do a little shiver.
“You need to get back on track with Rowan tonight. Take advantage of my absence.”
She relaxes into one of the bucket chairs and picks up a magazine. I watch her for any signs of irritation or anger. I don’t see any. She just seems… sad.
“You’re right,” I say, lying on the couch again. “I have to try harder. Be a better actress. All my jobs require a certain degree of acting. No reason this one should be different.”
Her eyes fly to mine. “You have to act?”
“Yeah…” Now I feel uncomfortable. “I mean, he’s gorgeous and built, and those blue eyes are stunning, but I don’t know. He’s just another spoiled elitist snob, don’t you think?”
She flushes and looks away, not answering, and for a few moments we’re quiet. Her eyes are fixed on the magazine, but she turns the pages too quickly. I wait a few minutes longer as she keeps flipping.
“Okay, then,” I finally say. “I guess I should start getting ready.”
With a sigh, she stands and goes to her bedroom. “Have fun tonight,” she says softly before closing her door.
If I weren’t committed to this job, I wouldn’t go anywhere tonight. Ava’s acting weird, and I don’t know if she’s really not feeling well or if it’s something more. My phone chirps with a text, and I see it’s Reggie.
Any progress with CPR?
Pressing my lips together, I study his question for a moment trying to think of how to answer. The short answer is no. As much as I try to get to know Rowan, he seems pretty stiff and disinterested. I have loads more fun hanging out with Cal, which of course is counterproductive.
I finally text back, Not as much as I’d like.
A nice walk on the beach at sunset will break the ice. Perhaps a damsel in distress act?
You want me to try drowning?
Nothing so dramatic. Think about it. See you in a bit.
Think about it. That’s all I’ve been doing for the last twenty-four hours. I’ve got to do like Ava said and try to regain ground. Damsel in distress… Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.
8
Confusion
Rowan
When Reggie and Zee arrive for dinner, my chest caves. Ava’s not with them. “Hello, Miss Benedict,” I force a smile. “Welcome to my humble home.”
Her eyes are wide as they circle the vast foyer. White marble floors are dotted with small, brown diamonds. Arches overhead with images of blue skies and clouds painted on the ceiling, and the Occitan cross sprinkled throughout.
“It’s amazing,” she whispers, looking around. Her eyes snap back to me when Cal appears at the top of the curved staircase.
“Hello, below!” He trots down the stairs, but when he reaches us, my uncle leaves his escort and walks toward him.
“Cal, would you mind showing me a map of the vineyards at Cote d’Azur?”
“What?” My brother’s sunny disposition dims.
“Yes, I was telling a colleague the folle noir was outstanding. I want to see which vineyard he should visit.”
“Right now?”
“Come, come, it will only take a moment.”
The two of them set off in the direction of the library, and I’m left alone with Miss Benedict. She’s wearing beige leggings and a pale grey tunic sweater made of a fuzzy yarn like Mohair. One shoulder is exposed, and her pale blonde hair is styled in large curls over it. Her eye makeup makes me think of that singer.
Zelda Benedict is actually quite lovely. I look down at my hands as we walk through the entryway into the left hall. Mother is at the spa in Marins, so it’s up to me to play host.
“I hope your friend isn’t ill.” Yep, no getting away from where my mind is.
“She said she was tired. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Zelda’s voice is soft. At times, it reminds me of Ava’s, but I suppose it’s because they’re friends.
We’re in the living room, and I’m looking at the wet bar in the far corner. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”
She glances up and smiles. “It would be the real thing here, wouldn’t it?”
“It is from the Champagne appellation.”
I pour us each a glass of Canard-Duchene and we do a little clink.
“Mmm,” she sighs. “It’s delicious. Not bitter or sweet.”
“It’s my mother’s favorite.”
She walks to the small fountain stationed in the center of the wall. It flows down to a grate and provides ambient noise.
“Your life here is so lovely.” Her thoughts seem to be miles away. “I can’t imagine growing up like this, without a care in the world.”
I wasn’t prepared for her comment, and I pause a moment to think about how our lives here must appear. “Before my father died, I was quite selfish. I did whatever the hell I wanted to do without worrying about anyone.”
“Are you saying you’ve changed?”
I exhale a laugh. “No, I’m still quite selfish. The only difference is now I lament the things I wish I could do while I work on the things I should.”
“I suppose that’s the definition of being noble.”
“Something like that.”
Cal’s teasing voice cuts through our sudden solemnity. “Those are some seriously long faces to be sharing champagne. Pour me a glass, brother.”
“I’ll have one of those as well, Rowan.” Reggie says. “Your mother has excellent taste in wine.”
“Find what you were looking for back there?” I call, walking to the bar for two more glasses.
“Domaine de Toasc,” Reggie answers.
Zee seems suddenly on edge. She moves from the fountain over to where my uncle is standing as if for protection. I’ve just finished pouring when James enters the room.
“If your graces are ready, dinner is served.”
Zee takes Reggie’s arm, and we proceed through double doors into a dining room off the side of the living area. I’ve always appreciated the interior design of this room. The walls are beige stone, and exposed beams line the ceiling. A heavy mahogany table is in the center, with heavy, red-upholstered chairs surrounding it. Heavy red drapes hang beside enormous French-door windows overlooking the sea. It’s one of my favorite rooms in the house, strong and rugged.
Since it’s only the four of us, I sit at the head with Zelda on my left and Reggie on my right. Cal takes the seat on Zelda’s left.
“It’s been a while since I’ve dined at this table,” Reggie sighs. His observation pricks my annoyance at his return, but I let it pass.
“We don’t normally open the house this early in the season,” Cal says. “Mother wanted to come out. She missed being close enough to walk along the shore in the morning air.”
“It must be lovely to walk along the shore at sunrise.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Cal laughs. “I’m more of a ‘walk along the shore at sunset’ type.”
Her cheeks pink, and she looks down. It’s the softest I’ve seen Miss Benedict in the short time I’ve known her. I want to ask her about San Angelo, but the servers fill the room, setting gold-rimmed plates of dark green salads in front of each of us. Our champagne glasses are refilled, and I take a moment to do a little toast.
“To familiar places and new friends.”
We all touch our crystal together and dig into the bitter greens softened by the balsamic vinaigrette, feta, and cranberries. I catch Miss Benedict checking out the tall bodyguard passing outside the windows. Our eyes meet, and she gives me a little smile.
“I suppose you don’t even see them after a
while.”
“Not true,” I say, returning her smile. “I’m actually very good friends with some of them. Comes with having them around everywhere.”
“Is it hard knowing they might stop someone from trying to kill you?”
“I don’t think about it that much. Thanks for reminding me.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” She blushes bright red, which makes me laugh.
“I was only teasing you,” I say gently.
I reach out and cover her hand with mine. She starts to pull away, but at the same time, she checks herself and doesn’t. Strange.
My brother’s eyes are on our hands, and he breaks in. “Personally, I always feel better when ole Odd Job is behind the wheel.”
“Odd job?” she laughs, removing her hand from mine. “Isn’t that the guy from James Bond?”
“Are you still harassing poor Hajib?” Reggie says in mock disapproval. “You haven’t called him his proper name since you were boys.”
“He loves being called Odd Job,” Cal argues. “He never stopped us from saying it.”
“I’d like to see you correcting the future kings of Monagasco.” Our uncle quirks an eyebrow, and I can’t help remembering the days when my father was still alive.
We would come here in the late summers, and the three adults would congregate in the living room talking and laughing while Cal and I played chess or ran down to the shore to hunt for ghost crabs hiding in the dunes.
Our entrées are served—dried cod with tomato and spices—and a delicate pastry for dessert. The plates are removed, and Reggie stands and goes to the terrace doors, pulling them open. A warm breeze tipped with a hint of brine fills the air.
“That does it,” Cal cries, jumping up. “We’re taking a walk on the shore.”
He catches Zee’s hand and pulls her up. I chuckle and follow along, leaving my shoes on the smooth marble stones beside theirs and picking up a flashlight before following them down the long path to the water’s edge.
The estate is situated on a little cove protected by an outcropping of rocks, and as such, the beach is calmer than elsewhere, more like a lake. The moon is just rising over the crystal waters, and Cal rolls up his khakis. Zee is ankle-deep in the water kicking small sprays at him.