The Prince’s Game_A Mershano Empire Novel

by Lexi C. Foss

  “How would you feel if you were in my shoes, Evan? Watching me kiss a dozen other men? Would you believe me when I told you I didn’t feel a thing for any of them, including the guy I felt up in front of you in a hot tub?” My voice was quiet, nearing a whisper. Asking him this granted him deeper access to my thoughts and feelings than I wanted to allow, but his gaze was already penetrating my outer layer. He was right about honesty being the foundation between us. I could tell him this, giving him a dose of the reality I faced.

  “I turn off my emotions when the cameras are on except for when I’m with you. You’re the only one who cracks my armor.”

  “That doesn’t answer my questions, though, does it? How would you feel, Evan? Consider what you just told me, and pretend I said those words to you.” I palmed his cheek. “You wanted to know how I feel; well, consider the reverse. I can handle this, knowing it won’t go anywhere in the long term. I can enjoy the moment, but don’t question my shields. They’re up for a reason.”

  He brushed his knuckles over my temple and along my jaw, tracking the movement with his gaze. “I’m not a jealous man, but the idea of you kissing someone else makes me want to break something.” The growl in his voice was almost as sexy as his words. “You kissing men in front of me would be even worse. I don’t think I could be as strong as you and agree to this arrangement.”

  “Then you realize what you’re asking of me.”

  “I do.” He pressed his lips to mine, softly and tenderly. “Am I an asshole for being happy about you agreeing despite everything?”

  “Only a little.” I pulled him down for another kiss, lingering in the moment. He was naked and hot, and pure deliciousness against my mouth. “I can think of a few ways to make it up to me.”

  “Yeah?” His irises were molten chocolate. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, I’m really sore for some reason. A massage and a hot shower sound amazing right now. Bonus points if we can combine the activities.”

  “Hmm, a negotiation. Okay, then.” He traced my jaw with his finger, considering. “What type of massage are you requesting? Of the oral variety or hands only?” His serious tone coupled with his words had heat rushing to my core. I loved when he went into businessman mode, especially when discussing sex.

  “That’s a tough choice, Mister Mershano.” I licked my lips. “I think both.”

  “And in exchange?”

  “Well, my knees feel fine.” I wrapped my legs around his waist. “And my mouth isn’t sore at all.”

  He grinned against my lips. “I do love the way you negotiate, Miss Summers.”

  “So we have a deal, then?”

  “Absolutely.”

  25

  Evil Twin Sisters and Disapproving Mothers

  After two weeks in Jamaica, we were down to three girls and switching locations again. Evan warned me about the next phase this time, giving me a chance to hide my phone before my bags were packed by the show’s staff. The three of us were headed home to introduce the prince to our families. For me, that meant a trip to Indiana.

  My mom met Brenda, the makeup artist, and me at the airport with a hug and several kisses, praising me in a mixture of Spanish and English. “It’s about time you came home to see your mamá, Sarah.”

  “I was just home for Christmas, Mamá.”

  “Pssh, that was months ago.” My mom was a gorgeous woman, measuring five foot two with all-natural curves. With her tan skin, long dark hair, and brown eyes, she resembled an older sister more than my mother. She was nearing fifty but didn’t look a day over forty. “And who is this?”

  “Brenda Kroger, meet Estrella Summers. Mom, this is Brenda, my babysitter. The show sent her along to watch me and make sure I don’t contact the media.”

  “Actually, I volunteered for the part.” Brenda smiled. “They asked who wanted to go to Indiana and I said, ‘Why not?’ ”

  “I hope you like corn,” I muttered. Because Indiana was full of it.

  My mom’s foot tapped in irritation. Not a good sign. “You have a lot of explaining to do, Sarah. In the car.”

  “Uh, actually we need to get the rental . . .” Brenda trailed off at my mother’s raised eyebrow. “Right, your car is just fine.” She leaned in to whisper, “Your mom is terrifying.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, she’s amazing.” We left our bags for the other crew members who followed us to Indiana, and followed my mom to the car. I was staying in a Mershano hotel downtown with the RNW staff, but my mother insisted on picking me up at the airport, and Brenda offered to tag along. She was my volunteer shadow.

  Evan and his parents would be here in four days. They were headed to Virginia to meet with Tiffany’s family first, and then they were going to Charleston for Amber. That gave me plenty of time to bring my mother up to speed.

  “Is this Bob’s car?” It was not her blue sedan but a sporty, red death trap. The flashy paint was too much for my sister, leaving my mother’s boyfriend as the likely candidate for ownership.

  “Sí, mine is in the shop again.”

  I sat in the front bucket seat, while Brenda took over the back. “Maybe it’s time you get a new one, Mom.”

  “You say that every time you visit, mi tesoro.”

  “Sí, porque es viejo.” The car was twelve years old and falling apart. She needed a new one.

  “Hush.” She went on a rant in Spanish that had Brenda’s eyebrows hitting her brown hairline and me laughing.

  “Te amo, Mamá.”

  “Sí, sí.” She waved a hand and focused on her steering. Driving through Indianapolis was different than driving around my hometown of Fishers. “Now tell me about this reality show and why there’s a cleaning crew in my house. Because you know how I feel about strangers in the home, Sarah. Your papa is not going to approve.”

  I grinned. She believed my dad’s ghost haunted the house I grew up in, which was why she never moved. He was her one true love, and she refused to remarry. Bob and her previous boyfriends were just men she used to keep her company and pass the time until she could be reunited with my dad again.

  “You didn’t tell your mom about the show?” Brenda sounded incredulous. “Where does everyone think you’ve been?”

  “Working,” my mom replied for me. “Apparently, it’s not true according to the man who called last night. Start explaining, niña.”

  My shoulders fell. It was going to be a long afternoon. “Mamá, I’m on a reality show called The Prince’s Game. Evan and his family are coming over in a few days to meet you, and it’s going to be on television.”

  “What is the game? What do you win?”

  “I really wish Paul was here for this. He would be losing it.” Brenda’s backseat commentary wasn’t helpful.

  “I win a husband, I guess.” I cringed at how stupid that sounded. “Have you heard of Mershano Suites?”

  “Sí, por supuesto.” Yes, of course.

  “Evan is a Mershano. He’s sort of the heir to the empire, and he’s looking for a wife.” Not exactly true, but I couldn’t admit that with Brenda in the backseat. “So . . .” I cleared my throat, continuing. “I’m one of the, uh, contestants, and I’m sort of in the top three.”

  “It’s a dating show?” She looked ready to crash the car.

  “Uh, yeah, where thirty women try to win the prince’s heart.”

  She struggled for a reply, her lips opening and closing at random. “So you went on a reality show without telling me?”

  I figured Abby would do that for me since this is all her fault. “It’s complicated. I didn’t expect them to involve you.”

  “I expect this from your sister, not you. What about your job?”

  “I, uh, sort of had to quit.” This was not going well.

  “What?!” She dove into another tirade in Spanish that had me shrinking in my seat. My only saving grace was being the last on Evan’s family tour. That would give me time to turn this around. Telling her Abby set me up wasn’t an option. She h
ated our prank war. Mentioning Abby’s involvement would only make her angrier.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell your mom,” Brenda whispered after we got out of the car at my childhood home. It was a remodeled four bedroom with more than an enough space to raise two wild twin girls.

  My mom went inside after a muttered comment about needing to supervise the cleaners. Family and friends were welcome guests, but strangers were my mom’s kryptonite. She wasn’t shy, but she disliked the unfamiliar.

  “I didn’t expect to stay on the show this long,” was my weak explanation. I wasn’t exactly expecting the producers to introduce Evan and his parents to my mom.

  I led Brenda into the living area, where she dropped her purse. Bob was sitting in his office, which was adjacent to the living area, and stepped out to say hello. For a man of fifty, he was in good shape, with broad shoulders, a flat stomach, and strong legs. He kept his head shaved to hide his greying hair.

  Big blue eyes grinned down at me as he gave me a hug. Of my mother’s recent boyfriends, he was my favorite. I hoped she kept him around longer than the usual two years.

  “Hi, kiddo. I hear you’re on some kind of show?”

  “Yeah? Did the cleaning crew give that away?” One of them was in the kitchen, which was located beside us, mopping.

  “That and your mom ranting about it all night.”

  “Uh.” I swallowed, uncomfortable. “Yeah, sorry about all this.”

  “It’s certainly interesting.” That was his nice way of saying, This is ridiculous. There wasn’t much to say to that, so I introduced Brenda, and they shook hands.

  “Well, I have to finish this project I’m working on, but I’ll be out in a bit. Your mom is thinking El Vaquero for an early dinner since she’s been instructed not to touch the kitchen until after filming is done.”

  “I bet she loved that.”

  He grimaced. “I had to restrain her from clocking the guy in the face.”

  “Sounds like Mom.” Abby inherited her feisty energy, while I got her strong will.

  “Okay, but you had to be excited, right?” Brenda asked, resuming our conversation from the garage. “Wouldn’t you want to tell the world you got on this show?”

  I snorted. “Would you?”

  “No, but I’m not the type to go on one of these shows.” Realizing what she said, she backpedaled. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I mean . . .”

  “It’s fine. I’m not really the type either.”

  “Yeah, so I’ve noticed.” Her gaze narrowed. “You’re not like the others, which has made me wonder more than once why you joined the show.”

  The reason walked into the kitchen with a cheeky grin. She pulled a wine cooler from the fridge and offered me one, with a look. I glared at her in response. Bitch.

  “Have I mentioned I have an identical twin sister?” Brenda laughed until she noticed the other woman. Then her jaw unhinged. “Brenda, this is Abby. Abby, this is Brenda. She’s from The Prince’s Game. I’m sure you’ve heard of it?”

  Innocence flashed in those identical brown eyes. “The Prince’s Game? Huh. Yeah, no, not ringing a bell.”

  Being unable to say what I wanted to out loud, I let my gaze do all the talking. I’m going to murder you.

  “I’ve missed you, too, Sis,” she replied in a bratty tone.

  “This is too much.” Brenda’s head was swinging back and forth between us. “Does Paul know you have a twin?”

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t mentioned it, and I don’t think it came up during my interview.” I raised a brow at Abby.

  “Yeah, probably not.” She picked at a piece of invisible lint on her brown sweater. Her jeans were the same brand as mine, but my sweater was beige.

  “Mom didn’t tell me you would be here.” The network mentioned Evan meeting my mom and Bob, but nothing about my sister.

  “She called me yesterday asking if I knew anything about this show you’re doing. Andy put me on a plane right away.”

  “Andy?” I frowned. “Weren’t you just gallivanting around Europe with a guy named Brad?”

  “Yeah, we broke up. Andy and I met last week. He’s adorable. You’d like him.”

  “Right.” Keeping up with Abby’s romantic life was like watching a serial soap opera. If I missed one episode, I ended up a month behind. “Are you staying for the meet and greet, or are you leaving?”

  “Oh, I’m definitely staying.” Her grin was evil. “I can’t wait to meet your prince.”

  “His name is Evan, and he’s not my prince.”

  “Dude, Paul’s going to have a field day with you two.” Brenda was still gaping at us. “Does Evan at least know about her?”

  Abby perked up at that, interest darkening her eyes. She was getting ideas about the billionaire. Fantastic.

  “He knows all about Abby.” I tried to insinuate what I meant by that, but it went over my smiling sister’s head.

  “They are cleaning my bedroom, niña.” My mom walked in, hands on her round hips. “Do they intend to film up there? Because I see no reason for this. But they won’t stop.”

  “Sorry, Mom.” This is all Abby’s fault. “They’re obsessed with staging.” Something crashed in the basement, making me cringe. That was the sacred entertainment area with the big television and speakers. My mom went sprinting to the stairs with Bob right behind her.

  “Uh, I’ll go do damage control,” Brenda said, leaving Abby and me alone in the living area.

  I folded my arms and glowered at my twin. “Feel free to apologize at any time.”

  “Oh, screw that. I did you a favor getting you out of that crappy job and making you try something new. Live a little, Sis. It does the body good.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I had to quit my job because of you. Oh, but wait, that’s right, you have no idea what that means or why it matters. Commitment is just a word you use when you want something from a man, right? You’re too busy living to see how your actions impact others. I could lose my apartment, default on my student loans, and get blacklisted from future employers because of my involvement in a stupid dating show, but what’s all that for a little fun, huh?”

  “God, you have the biggest stick up your ass, you know that? I thought a little romantic vacay with a hot man would cure you of it, but clearly not.”

  “Did you forget about the other twenty-nine women on the show? Not the most romantic vacay, Abigail.”

  She snorted. “Like they stand a chance against you. I know what you look like naked, Sis. Men love us.”

  “Dear God, listen to yourself. You do realize men have brains outside of their dicks, right? He wants a wife, not just a lover.” A total lie, but I wasn’t going to tell her that.

  “And it sounds like you’re one of the top three candidates. Congrats, Sis.”

  I shook my head. “You’re impossible.”

  “And you love me.”

  Cocky brat. “Love and hate are closely related.” And right now I was leaning toward hate.

  “Hey, if you find true love as a result of this show, you owe me big.”

  “Okay, first, true love is not something you find in two months. And second, I’m more likely to have my heart broken here, in which case I owe you nothing.” Why did the thought of Evan being my true love make my heart skip a beat? I rubbed my chest in an attempt to relinquish the ache there. Love was an impossible notion between us. I liked him more than I should, and I enjoyed sharing a bed with him every night for the last two weeks, but it was a passing romance. I wouldn’t even know what love feels like, let alone feel it for him.

  Keep telling yourself that, Sarah.

  “Oh. My. God.” Abby set down her wine cooler and walked around the counter, gaze intent. “You already love him.”

  “I barely know him.” Liar. My subconscious needed to take a hike.

  “That may be, but I know that look. It’s the same one Mom had when she looked at Dad. You’re in love.”

  “I am
not.”

  “You can’t hide from me, Little Sister. You love him.”

  “I’m only the little sister by two minutes, and no, I don’t.” Loving Evan Mershano would leave me broken in the end, and I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “Deny it all you want, but I see right through you. I always have.”

  Now I really wanted to punch my twin. “First you get me into this mess, and now you claim I’m in love. Why don’t you go home to your Andy and leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Touchy, touchy.” She picked up her drink and brought it to her lips. “I can’t wait to meet this man, the one who cracked my sister’s infamous armor. He must be fascinating for you to love him.”

  “I’m seriously—”“Are you two fighting already?” my mom snapped from the basement doors. She started chewing us out in Spanish, calling us immature and frustrating, and giving us a thorough verbal beatdown. “I want hugging in this house and no more bickering!”

  “Lo siento, Mamá.” Abby sounded so contrite, the kiss-ass.

  “I’m sorry, too.” But only about the mess I was causing by being here with the show. Brenda came up the stairs with her phone to her ear.

  “Crew,” she mouthed. From the sound of it, she was arranging a pickup time for after dinner. I wanted so badly to check my phone and see if Evan messaged, but my phone was in my suitcase. I would have to wait until I was alone in the comfort of my hotel room to check in with him. After dinner.

  26

  A Surprise Visitor

  My mom wanted me to sleep in my old room, but the show insisted I stay in the Mershano-owned hotel downtown. Abby signed a bunch of nondisclosure agreements on my behalf before filming started, but those weren’t good enough for the network. It was ridiculous. If they planned for the watchdog routine to continue after the show ended, they would be in for a surprise. I refused to be babysat from now until everything aired on television.

  Evan never texted me today, something I should have expected. He was busy traveling to Richmond to meet Tiffany’s parents. Jealousy soured my stomach. It was irrational. I knew this was part of the game, but my heart didn’t understand logic. It would be worse when he went to Charleston for Amber. The fake southern belle pulled out all the stops to get his attention in Jamaica. She monopolized his time in front of the cameras and touched him like he belonged to her, and I hated it.