“Just like sending jewelry?”
Her mouth pursed. “Letting down your women friends isn’t my favorite task, but I prefer it to allowing them to languish with false hope.” She understood that sort of hope. It was sad. Useless.
Just as well that tonight was all about business. Something she definitely needed to remember.
However, her world changed the moment they drove up to the hotel.
Flashbulbs erupted into a frenzy the moment the limousine halted outside the hotel, and even within their cushioned sanctuary, the shouts for his attention were deafening.
Cassie froze at his side. “Oh my God! How could I have forgotten about them?”
“It goes with being royal.”
With the surety of knowing his place in the world, Lucas turned and held out his hand to her, but she shifted away from him, one hand gripping the door rest as if she wanted to manacle herself to it. “What the heck was I thinking?”
“It’s called duty, Cassie. Your duty as my assistant, and my duty to my country.”
“So get married.”
Lucas’s mouth pursed. “As far as they’re concerned, the moment they see that ring on your finger, I am.”
Cassie glanced down at the rock hanging on her finger and curled her fingers into her palm.
“By the way,” he said, “did I tell you that you look beautiful tonight?” He offered one of his blazing smiles.
Oh, have mercy. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
Cassie bit down on her bottom lip. “Don’t smile, and don’t try to charm me. I don’t need the platitudes you offer your dates.” But as she said the words, she couldn’t help wonder what it would be like if the words he just uttered were true. What if he really meant them?
Cassie shook her head, stamping down those thoughts.
“I’m only trying to help you relax. Are you okay?”
“Not particularly.” Actually, she was far from fine. She really must be nuts to have agreed to his ruse.
“It’ll be fine. I promise.”
Outside the cloistered confines of his limousine, paparazzi crowded the pavement. Cassie swallowed. Fine? She didn’t think so.
Lucas reached out to her, resting the tip of a finger on her chin. He turned her to face him, his dark eyes softening on her. “Ignore them.”
Her stomach somersaulted. “Pretty darn hard. There are at least twenty of them out there.”
“So smile sweetly. Or give them one of your famous scowls.”
“I beg your pardon?”
He offered her a secret wink and leaned into her. “You can do it. You scare me into doing what I don’t want to do, so try it on them.”
“Really? Since when.”
But Lucas didn’t get the chance to respond, as the uniformed driver opened the door to the accompaniment of another volley of flashbulbs.
Lucas knew the moment he reached for Cassie’s hand that this idea had been perfect. It would work. The pad of his thumb carelessly slid across her palm. Her skin was so soft. Was she soft all over?
Hell! He stared down at her hand in his. He should have let her hand go. He didn’t. And what was more, he didn’t want to.
“When’s the wedding, Your Highness?” asked one photographer as Lucas exited the vehicle, Cassie following him.
Lucas ignored him with a bored, autocratic air. “That’s a secret.”
Cassie’s breath hissed, but he simply offered a wry grin. “Smile, Cassie. It’s a game.”
“More like a nightmare.”
As they passed through the gilded entrance to the grand hotel, Lucas was aware of Cassie’s agitation. He tightened his grip on her hand, taking unaccustomed delight in holding it. He leaned into her, inhaled her fragrance and whispered, “Don’t worry. Relax. Have fun.”
“Fun! This is work, as far as I recall. Fun doesn’t enter into the equation.”
True, but right now, as he held her hand, the thought of business somehow seemed far away.
At the entrance to the grand ballroom, Lucas halted. The epitome of Art Deco, with mirrored panels and sparkling chandeliers, the legendary room had been the setting for many a society wedding. Shifting his attention to a beribboned dignitary, he spoke to the man briefly, all the while aware of guests staring in his direction. Many were business acquaintances, others socialites from around the globe, the women draped in jewels worth a fortune, the men restrained in their tuxedos.
Turning away from the glittering spectacle, he focused again on Cassie. He had told her she looked beautiful. It wasn’t a lie or the well-practiced line he used on other women. Just the truth. He’d never seen her so…
Why hadn’t he noticed before?
Her eyes shone, red-glossed lips slightly parted. Her inky-black gown, though simple in cut, curved deliciously over her body. Something tugged in his chest, but he shook it off. “Ready?”
Cassie tilted her head a fraction higher, pushed her shoulders back and eyeballed him. Lucas hooked her arm in his, and they stepped beneath the archway festooned with sweet-smelling roses. He dipped toward her, whispering, “I knew I could count on you.”
“That’s right, I’m Ms. Dependable. That comfortable cardigan you wanted at your side tonight.”
Dependable!
The word should have pleased her, but for some reason it didn’t, and lodged in her chest, wrapped in disappointment.
Just as well she was dependable, because Tina depended on her even more than the man at her side.
Abandoned by her mother not long after being born, Tina had been brought up by their father. But he was gone too, drowned at sea five years ago. Now, it was time Cassie took on the guardianship of her sweet Down syndrome half sister.
After their father’s death, Tina had lived with their grandparents. But now they were about to move into a retirement home. Trouble was, retirement homes and children didn’t go together. They were devastated, of course. Slowly, Cassie had been able to put things in place, and soon she would bring Tina to live with her. Though there would be challenges, she wouldn’t back down.
That made her job more and more important. Even if it meant playing a fake fiancée. But what about when it ended, as it had to? Had Lucas thought of the consequences? What would his father say at being duped?
Guilt surged at her part in this façade, but unless she simply walked away from their game and her job, something she couldn’t afford to do, Cassie could see no way out.
As the evening progressed, many of the male guests offered her an interested glance, while the women looked right through her. Lucas discussed deals with the powerbrokers, and Cassie took in as much as she could, knowing her desk would be littered with his notes tomorrow, meetings to prioritize and negotiations to barter.
Suddenly, an unexpected, shrill laugh echoed from across the room, and her footsteps stalled. Twenty paces in front of her, resplendent in diamonds from husbands number two and three, and wearing a revived semblance of youth restored from her “holiday” at a Swiss health farm, stood Blanche Masters-Rodriguez-Hamilton-Smythe-Drummond.
Her mother.
What was she doing here?
Cassie’s stomach churned as, even from some distance, she recognized the look in her mother’s eyes. She’d witnessed it far too many times before not to know what it meant. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Blanche was on the prowl for a new husband, or, at the very least, a rich lover.
In an exquisitely beaded flesh-colored dress that molded her lush figure, and creamy multiple strands of pearls glistening at her throat, Blanche sauntered amid the crowd offering a smile here, an air kiss, resting a well-manicured hand on a tuxedo-clad arm. Her mother was there to be seen, to flirt and revel in the compliments that came her way, of which Cassie knew there would be many. But although she paused to converse with a dignitary, a socia
lite, a powerbroker, Blanche headed Cassie’s way.
Tugging her wrap tighter, fingers clawing at her purse, anxious to escape from her mother’s line of vision, Cassie looked left—right and then straight at Lucas. “I’ve got to go. I can’t stay. Something’s come up.”
Confusion crossed his narrowed gaze. “Now?”
“Yes.”
He went to move closer, but she stepped back, holding up a hand to thwart his advance. His frown deepened. “You’re not making any sense.”
Didn’t she know it. How in heck could she tell Lucas she couldn’t be seen with him? Not now that her mother had turned up a day early. One hint of the truth that Cassie worked for royalty, and her mother would latch on like a limpet, crawling toward the ultimate goal—a royal husband.
Cassie walked quickly away, and though she heard Lucas call her name, she ignored him. She couldn’t stop. Couldn’t wait. She upped her speed. She had to get out of there.
Enveloped by the warm evening air, she navigated her way through the grand portico, stumbling on her four-inch heels and cursing that she’d not had time to practice walking. She nodded toward the doorman. “A taxi, please.”
Her exit surprised the media and hovering bodyguards, but she turned her back on them all as the doorman snapped his fingers. A vehicle drove up from the line of waiting taxis. She was about to get in when Lucas appeared at her side, and her breath caught as he blocked her escape.
He nodded toward the driver. “We won’t be needing your services.”
Head tilted back, she locked on his flint-like gaze. Her knees threatened to buckle, and she curled her fingers around the edges of his jacket, relishing a brief moment when she could touch him. Hold him. Feel him. She slid the tip of her tongue over dry lips. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you home.”
“I can get myself home.”
“You’re here as my date.”
“I’m your employee,” she corrected, loosening her hold on him. “You wanted my eyes and ears. You wanted a fake fiancée, you got it.”
He went to say something, and then his gaze switched momentarily toward the paparazzi, and he scowled.
“I don’t want you to come with me, Lucas. I can see myself home.”
“You are upset, are you not?”
Expecting her mother to follow her out any minute, though Cassie prayed to God she wouldn’t, she cast a furtive glance toward the hotel entrance and then squared her shoulders. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“A lover?”
Lucas’s intrusive inspection sliced through her wavering determination. Clearly taking her hesitation as assent, he turned to the doorman. “My car, please.”
“It’s on its way, Your Highness.” The doorman saluted, accompanied by a barrage of flashbulbs.
Lucas uttered an oath. “The vultures have multiplied.” He angled his body so he blocked her from their prying lenses.
“But what about the gala, about those business connections?”
“I’ve done my bit, and there’s already a check that will double whatever the charity auction reaps. Besides, the paparazzi have caught on to something.” Lucas offered her a hint of a smile. “You, Ms. Masters, were intent on ditching me, and the media circus will see a story in it. Tomorrow’s headline will probably lead with something along the lines of Prince Gets Ditched.”
Her stomach somersaulted. Oh hell. She couldn’t afford a scandal. If her name were splashed across the tabloids, her mother would definitely want an introduction, then more, and more. Blanche’s greed knew no bounds.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t consider that.”
His mouth quirked ever so slightly, and he offered a nonchalant shrug. “It doesn’t matter. I grew up with it.”
“I don’t know how you put up with it.”
The light in Lucas’s eyes suddenly dimmed. “I nearly didn’t.”
Cassie knew what Lucas hinted at—his mother’s death and the tabloid furor after it. At only twenty, such intense scrutiny could have easily destroyed a young man. Not Lucas.
“But you did survive.” On impulse, she reached out and rested her hand on his arm and instantly felt his body heat through his jacket. She lifted her gaze to his and held it, noting the hint of sadness lurking in his somber eyes.
“My world has its drawbacks, believe me. Bolting wasn’t an option. Duty to my country, and foremost to my family, outlawed any escape. Now they want me to find a bride by committee.” The car drew to the curb, and he wrenched the door open. “Get in.”
Cassie scrambled into the limo, Lucas following a second later. With the door barely closed, the limo sped off. Lucas stretched out and unbuttoned his jacket with the flick of a thumb. Cassie watched his efficient movements, his long fingers precise and tapered as he tugged at his bow tie, unraveling it, and then tucked it into his pocket. He loosened the top two buttons on his shirt, the fabric parting and offering a clear view of his chest. His head dropped back to the luxuriously cushioned headrest, and he closed his eyes, fingers massaging the bridge of his nose. His mouth pursed in a grim line. “What were you thinking, running out like that?”
Of my mother. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”
Engulfed in silence, losing herself in the whimsy of what if, she let her eyes drift closed, and it wasn’t until she heard Lucas call her name that she realized she’d fallen asleep. Alert to his touch, a caress along her bare arm, she felt goose bumps cover her skin and swallowed back the ache in her chest. “I’m—”
“Looking just like Sleeping Beauty,” he said with a curve of his sensual mouth. “How was the dream?”
Wonderful. And foolish.
Needing to break the moment before she said anything she’d regret, she glanced out the rear window. The road behind them was empty.
“Don’t worry, we’re safe. They’ve left us alone.”
“Really?” She shot him a sleepy smile. “With your playboy reputation, I’m not sure being alone with you and being safe go together.”
“Don’t believe all you read in the gossip columns.”
“I work for you, remember? I’ve seen you in action.”
His brows rose, and she cringed at what she’d said, the barely hidden innuendo.
“The vultures know to keep their distance.”
The car came to a halt, and the driver opened the door for her. She exited and then turned to wish Lucas a good night. Only Lucas wasn’t there. He too had exited and walked around the vehicle to stand so close she imagined she could feel his body heat.
Imagined it? There was nothing imaginary about it. His body heat raced down her spine, vertebra by vertebra. Beneath the glow of a streetlight, shadows played across the planes of his aristocratic features, his eyes hooded and unreadable. She desperately needed to put space between her and temptation before she made a complete fool of herself.
“You don’t have to see me to the door.”
He gave her a quirky half smile and took the key from her shaking fingertips. “Just like I didn’t have to see you home? I may be a womanizer in your eyes, but I am at least a gentleman, and a gentleman always walks a lady to the door.” He took the steps up to her front door. She followed him, and he fit the key into the lock and opened the door. Cassie tried to sidestep him, only to be stopped by his hand resting on her shoulder. “I have to ask again, Ms. Masters. What happened back there?”
Her answer remained unspoken. How could she explain she was running scared from her own mother, from her past? “Please don’t ask.” A tendril fell loose, but before she could brush it away Lucas reached up and twined it around his finger. He tucked it behind her ear, tracing the curl of her earlobe. Her breathing stilled.
Don’t be stupid. Breathe.
A fusion of heat and ice slithered along her veins, and she pulled her pashmina tighter around her shoulders as she st
epped back a fraction. “I let you down this evening. Your world is not mine. I can cope with attending your meetings, buying your exes jewels and flowers.”
“A task you do so well.”
“One I get a lot of practice at. You can’t put off your father much longer, Lucas. You need to find the right woman.”
Lucas exhaled a derisive snort. “I’m not sure she exists.”
“There has to be someone. Use your famous charm and…” The words hesitated on the tip of her tongue.
Lucas’s eyes filled with speculation. “And? Come on, Cassie. You’ve never held back from telling me what you thought before, so why start now?”
“How about you try eradicating your playboy tag, for a start. That’d help.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really!” Suddenly, all the pent-up tension she’d been battling since Lucas demanded she attend the gala evaporated. Things were back to normal. Their normal. She delighted in the lighthearted banter that had been so natural from the day she’d started working for him. She shook a finger at him. “Don’t bother trying the charm. It won’t work. You, Your Highness, are far too arrogant for your own good.”
Laughing with her, he eased back onto his heels, hands resting on her shoulders, drawing her with him. Her body sizzled at the intimacy. It excited her, and scared her.
“So you’ve told me.”
“So why don’t you listen?”
He offered her a playful salute. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”
Cassie shook her head. “Oh, you’re impossible!”
“I work hard.”
“And that’s your excuse for discarding girlfriends like you change your shirts? You play hard too. If you’re not working seven days a week, you’re charging to the top of a mountain somewhere. You put your life at risk without thought of the consequences. One day, you’ll find the right woman, but it’ll be too late, and you’ll realize you’ve let her slip away.”
“I haven’t heard you complain.”
“That’s because I work for you.” And because I’m not the right woman. “I’m not your future wife.”
“And what about you, Ms. Masters? Would you marry for duty instead of love?”
The Bachelor Prince Page 3