The Wicked Prince

by Nicole Burnham

  She instantly dismissed the thought. If Alessandro Barrali was as upstanding and as focused on humanitarian causes as the rest of his family, he wouldn’t have pinned her to the wall and kissed her in the middle of the palace library, then mocked her on her way out the door.

  Which brought her back to where she started…what in the world was he doing here?

  The deep rumble of Tommy’s laughter met Frannie as she stepped into the office. He greeted her with a broad smile on his face. “This is our new volunteer, Prince Alessandro.”

  “Please, call me Alessandro. This isn’t the place for formalities,” he told Tommy, then turned and extended his hand. He hesitated, then blinked, his honeyed eyes reflecting genuine shock. “Frannie Lawrence. I didn’t expect to see you here. Are you on assignment for Jack Gladwell? I didn’t think you worked for him any longer.”

  “I don’t. I run the Sunrise Shelter now. Welcome. We’re thrilled to have another volunteer.” Her heart thumped a million miles an hour, but she managed to keep her voice even and her handshake quick and professional before she gestured toward Chloe. “This is Chloe Robinson, our nurse. You’ve met Tommy. Tommy’s sister, Irene, works primarily in the nursery. She lived in the United States for several years and worked as an EMT, so she does a lot to help Chloe. The four of us are here twenty-four hours a day, along with four of the six teachers.”

  “They have rooms in the bunkhouses with the older kids,” Tommy added. “Brave souls, those four. The other two teachers and the kitchen staff think they’re crazy.”

  Alessandro laughed, then greeted Chloe with a smile and a warm handshake. Chloe’s eyes appeared glazed as she mumbled a greeting. It wasn’t often that good-looking men made their way to the shelter, let alone good-looking, wealthy, royal men, and Chloe was young and single.

  “You have quite an operation here,” Alessandro said. His statement encompassed everyone, but Frannie felt there was a question in it meant for her, as if he couldn’t quite believe she was in charge and living here. “It looks like every tree and building on this side of the island was flattened. Hard to believe it’s been over a year and a half.”

  “I took him on a loop around the island when we left the marina,” Tommy said. “He was able to see how far the tsunami wave reached and get a sense of the devastation.”

  “Good thought. Thank you,” she told Tommy, then turned to Alessandro. “In a spot this remote, rebuilding is slow. It took over a year to clear away the debris from the damaged homes and businesses and to deal with hazardous items like propane and gas tanks. But now we have this” —Frannie swept her arm to encompass the shelter— “and it’s been a godsend for the fifty-six children who live here. We owe our donors a huge debt of gratitude for their support, Jack Gladwell and your family in particular.”

  “I’m glad the funds are being put to good use.” He glanced out the window, toward the center of the compound. “I spent some time reading up on the financials. I was stunned when I learned how many kids live here. I had no idea the tsunami left so many orphaned.”

  “Thankfully, not all of them are orphans,” Chloe explained. “Fewer than twenty, in fact. But the tsunami forced a lot of parents to leave Kilakuru to find work on other islands. Since the shelter was designed with classrooms, they opted to have their children stay here until they can either rebuild or permanently relocate.”

  Alessandro blew out a hard breath. “That has to be difficult for both the children and their parents. Even if the kids are old enough to understand the logic of why their parents made that choice, it must leave them with a sense of abandonment.”

  The insight surprised Frannie. She knew Alessandro was intelligent, but she hadn’t expected him to be sensitive to the emotions of those around him…not unless he saw an advantage. Her experience in the library being prime evidence. “We work very hard to overcome that. Our focus here is on supporting the kids emotionally as much as on addressing their physical needs.”

  Alessandro slid a large, well-worn gray backpack off his shoulder and set it under the front window. “Then let’s get started. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I can take direction.”

  “I like him already,” Tommy said, clapping Alessandro on the back as if they were old friends. The prince’s title and wealth didn’t appear to affect him as it did Chloe, who still gazed at Alessandro as if she didn’t quite believe he was real. Then again, any gorgeous male would impress Chloe, and Alessandro was nothing if not gorgeous.

  “I’m going unload the supplies that came on the boat,” Tommy added. “I should be finished before school lets out.”

  “Thanks, Tommy. Yell if you need a hand.” Frannie turned her focus to Alessandro and gestured toward the center of the compound. “I’m happy to give you a tour. If you need to rest first, or use the facilities—”

  “I’m fine. Ready to go.”

  “Do you need to get your things from Tommy’s truck?”

  “I have them.”

  “That’s it? One backpack?” It was a large backpack, but still…Alessandro was a prince. Frannie couldn’t imagine Sophia traveling with one bag.

  “The more I read about the shelter, the lighter I thought I should travel. I assume I won’t need many personal belongings. However, I have a shipment coming with my dive gear, as well as medical supplies and dry goods Mikhail said you’d likely need in the coming months, based on your past orders. Laundry detergent, paper towels, items of that nature. Plus two boxes of what I’d consider luxury items.”

  “That’s so thoughtful. Thank you.” She sounded as astonished as she felt. The staff was efficient with their use of supplies, but knowing another order was on the way gave them breathing space. Knowing the supplies came from Prince Alessandro…well, that was a shock unto itself. Then again, he looked the part of shelter volunteer today. He wore lightweight, cargo-style pants that could take a beating, along with a short-sleeved casual shirt and a serviceable pair of shoes similar to Tommy’s.

  If she didn’t know his reputation and hadn’t seen him in the formal environment of the palace, would she be as surprised by his foresight?

  “I’ll finish sorting the linens in the nursing station,” Chloe told Frannie, though her eyes remained on Alessandro. Before Chloe ducked out, she told him, “We’re glad to have you. Every set of hands is a big help.”

  Frannie didn’t miss the skip in Chloe’s step as she crossed the compound.

  “How long have you been here, Frannie?”

  Frannie’s attention snapped back to Alessandro. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was studying her as if she were an exotic animal in a zoo. Not in a hostile manner, but a curious one. It sent a skitter of awareness through her that gave her gooseflesh, despite the heat of the day. “A year and a half. Ever since I left my job with Jack Gladwell’s organization in London. Why?”

  “Does my mother know?”

  “Of course. That’s why I was at the palace. She wanted to meet in person after I’d sent a proposal for additional funding to the Barrali Trust.”

  The dark slashes of his brows knit, as if he were contemplating the answer to a puzzle. “I thought you were there to have lunch with Sophia.”

  “I was…after I met with your mother. Much as I adore Sophia, I didn’t travel halfway around the world to have lunch with her.”

  Alessandro absorbed that. “Your meeting with my mother went well?”

  “The Barrali Trust now supports a huge percentage of our day-to-day operation cost, so yes, it went wonderfully.” She angled her head. “Really, I should be asking you the questions. Why are you here?”

  “Hands-on philanthropy.”

  “Not with me, you aren’t.”

  His soft laugh made it clear he remembered every word exchanged during their encounter in the library. “That’s not the type of hands-on I had in mind. Besides, I had no idea you’d be here.”

  “Not with Chloe, either. Or any of the shelter’s employees.” That was the last thing the kids ne
eded.

  “Again, not what I had in mind. Believe it or not, I’m truly here to work.”

  “But…why?”

  He leaned against the cinder block wall and scrutinized her. Her hair was up, off her neck. Not in the polished bun she’d worn at the palace two weeks ago, but in a messy ponytail. White sunscreen streaked her jawline where she’d failed to blend it completely. She wore tennis shoes, olive green shorts, and a gray tank top. A black bandana hung in a loop around her throat, rolled so she could push it up on her head if needed.

  Though it showcased her long legs and lean, sculpted arms, Frannie’s outfit was meant for practicality, given the tropical environment. He’d bet anything she hadn’t known he was coming, though he was certain his name would’ve been on the paperwork Mikhail had e-mailed ahead to the island when Alessandro boarded the plane for the long flight from Sarcaccia.

  He uncrossed his arms and shrugged. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re…you’re a prince. You don’t do this kind of thing. You know we only have one phone here, right? A landline, on my desk. I mean, everyone has cell phones, but the coverage is terrible. Our Internet is intermittent at best. A lot of days I take my laptop to the police station to check my mail. And wait until you see the size of our cockroaches. They’re big enough to—”

  “When we met, I told you that I’m not the luxury hotel type.”

  “With all due respect, Your Highness, I don’t think you’re the food-slinging, floor-sweeping, math-tutoring type, either.”

  “Yet you asked Vittorio—or so you thought—about my travels for the express purpose of finding out whether I’d be suited to helping you here.”

  That caught her for a moment. Her voice softened. “I asked him—you—because I’d just accepted this position, it was on my mind at the party, and the opportunity presented itself. I’ve since discovered the error in my thinking. Even then, I never pictured you here as a full-time volunteer. At most, I was hoping you’d bring attention to the project and assist with fundraising efforts in Europe. Given your travels, I thought you could speak to a crisis like Kilakuru’s. Make it feel immediate to people who have the ability to help.”

  “In other words, once you met me in person you changed your mind.” He pushed away from the wall. Her opinion shouldn’t bother him—he’d been judged all his life and let it roll off his back—but in this case, for some reason, it did.

  “I flew a long way to come here. You need help. The residents here need help. I know I’m privileged, I know I’m wealthy. I have a reputation for socializing when I’m in southern Europe. I’m perfectly willing to speak to the crisis and raise awareness if that’s what you want. But I’ve also lived in harsh conditions and done so willingly. I spent a month in Nepal sleeping on cold floors and in tents and using squalid facilities—or the outdoors—when necessary. I’ve hiked through rough terrain with heavy gear. I’ve lived for days at a time on rice and beans. Certainly the world knows I’ve gone for long periods without access to phones or the Internet. Though I can’t say I enjoyed every minute, I’ve managed. It keeps my brain and body active.”

  “That’s why you’re here? For an adventure?”

  He’d come to prove to himself that she was wrong about him. He’d come for the challenge. He’d come because he was bored out of his mind. None of those reasons was what she wanted to hear. He suspected any reason he gave would prove insufficient; even his mother’s hope that this experience would serve as a springboard to a long-term pursuit at home.

  Rather than answer the question, he said, “Given what you’ve told me of your parents’ backgrounds, and the fact you attended the Sorbonne and worked for Jack Gladwell, I imagine you could live a pampered life, too, if you wished. Yet here you are. So how about you show me around and put me to work. If, in a week or two, you find that I’m not what you require in a volunteer, I’ll go. I’ll tap my resources to find a replacement you consider worthy. In exchange, I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from insulting me further. Deal?”

  He extended his hand and waited. Her lips twitched with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment, but she accepted his handshake. Instead of letting go, she held his gaze and wrapped her other hand around his. “These children are my world, Your Highness.”

  Even as he admired her protective streak, he hated that she felt the need to say it. Mostly because, given his reputation and his behavior in the library, he couldn’t blame her.

  “Understood.”

  “Then we have a deal.”

  She released his hand, but he didn’t let go. He’d done a lot of questionable things in his life; this, however, he’d get right. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  Chapter 5

  Frannie felt like the emotionally constipated schoolmarm cast as the villain in every preteen television movie. In other words: an evil, grouchy, judgmental shrew.

  How could Alessandro make her feel that way with a few simple words?

  Probably because she had been judgmental. But dammit, in choosing to leave Jack Gladwell and run this place, she had taken on a role akin to a schoolmarm’s. She had to protect the kids, even if it didn’t make her popular. And, frankly, she had to protect herself. Alessandro Barrali knocked her off her game like no one she’d ever met.

  “Let’s start over, then.” She released the prince’s hand, surprised to find she’d gripped it so tightly in both of hers. “I’ll take you on the grand tour. You can leave your pack here until we find you a bunk.”

  Once they were in the center of the Sunrise Shelter compound, she gathered herself, then pointed out the various buildings. “The nurse’s station is key,” she told him. “Chloe has her own room and bathroom in the back, so unless she’s diving, she’s available. Not a day will go by when you don’t have to escort a kid there with a scraped knee or sore throat. Chloe’s great with them all. She’s even convinced most of them that shots don’t hurt.”

  Alessandro gave the station a long look. “Bet there were a lot of tetanus shots administered after the tsunami.”

  “Yep. And those leave little arms sore. Come on, I’ll show you the dining hall now that it’s quiet.”

  “How many buildings do you have?”

  She swung in a circle to count. “Nurse’s station, schoolhouse, two bunkhouses, a nursery for the kids under age five, and the dining hall. Plus my office makes seven. If you count the gazebo at the far end of the complex between the bunkhouses and the nursery, we have eight.” She indicated the spacious grass-roofed structure, which was fitted with a circle of thick wooden benches. “We use the gazebo on weekends and in the evenings for games, meetings, stories, you name it. Teachers will sometimes hold class outdoors if the weather is nice and the kids are behaving. Tommy plans to install a grill behind the gazebo…though that’s going to be a surprise for the kids. He’s using parts of other grills he’s salvaged from tsunami wreckage. Tommy owns an auto repair shop and can fix just about anything.”

  “So he works both here and at the shop?”

  She shook her head. “The shop sustained a lot of damage in the tsunami. He’s done most of the repairs himself and has plans to reopen once there are more cars on the island. Until then, the shelter provides a reliable income.”

  Alessandro squinted against the bright sunshine as he took in the layout of the compound, with its brightly painted cinder block buildings set around a dirt-packed central area. She could almost see him trying to imagine what it would be like once the kids were out of school.

  “Normally, there would be more shade, but between two-thirds and three-quarters of the palm trees in this area were either flattened or so damaged they had to be taken down as a matter of safety.” She pointed to the mountain behind the shelter. Dense rainforest covered it, though there was a gap near the top where one of the island’s Catholic churches stood. “See the tree line? That’s where the tsunami wave reached. Everything above it was safe. Everything below was damaged or wiped out. We’ve transplanted a few trees and
hope to do more in the coming months, but the buildings were the priority.”

  He surveyed the hill, then angled his head to face her. “I’m more impressed by what you do have than what you don’t. Until I read the budget report and understood the scope of this project, I’d pictured the shelter as a single building.”

  She smiled at that. “A little over a year ago, you wouldn’t have been wrong. There was only one bunkhouse—that yellow building—and the dining hall when I arrived. Both of them were unused storage facilities that survived the tsunami. The gazebo was here, too, but lost its roof a few years before the storm and had been unused for a decade. When we first opened, my office was in a corner of the kitchen and we held classes in the dining area. Having the funds from Jack and from the Barrali Trust enabled us to update both buildings and to complete the rest of the compound with materials shipped from Australia and New Zealand. We used local labor to keep the money in Kilakuru’s economy. The shelter’s residents have put in a lot of work, too. All the interior painting was done by the kids and the shelter’s employees.”

  Frannie moved ahead of Alessandro to open the screen door to the dining hall. At this hour, the tables were empty, though animated chatter and the sound of pots and pans being scrubbed in the kitchen area at the back of the building was audible. Large fans circled overhead and a breeze carried through the space thanks to screened windows that ran along both sides of the hall. Alessandro stood under one of the fans and pulled his white shirt away from his chest.

  She pretended not to see the tanned skin revealed when his top button popped free. One glimpse and her mind immediately jumped to the sensation of his mouth moving against hers and his hands pulling her body flush to his. Worse, she completely forgot what she’d been about to tell him regarding the dining hall.

  She bit the inside of her lip and tried to regain her train of thought. “I’m afraid we don’t have air conditioning.”