I answer in English for Sloane’s benefit. “This is my date, Sloane Alexander.”
Mona’s eyes sparkle as she takes her in. She turns to me with a conspiratorial look and says, “She looks so regal.”
When she turns back to Sloane, she switches to English. “It’s very nice to meet you, Sloane.”
“Very nice to meet you as well, Mrs., I mean Madame…um…” Sloane turns to me with a wrinkle in her brow, unsure of how to finish that.
Mona laughs and waves it away. “You may call me Mona. I am not very fancy, as Magnus will tell you.”
Sloane relaxes with a grateful smile. “Very nice to meet you, Mona.”
“Well, let’s go! I want to make sure I get a chance to see the princess!”
I escort both ladies down the hall toward the elevator but switch back to French as I talk to Mona.
“Are Estelle and Giorgio still staying with you?”
“Of course not, Magnus. They are young and easily bored with someone like me. They are staying with friends.” She turns to me with one eyebrow raised in admonition. “Are you planning on apologizing to her?”
I look ahead to stare at the elevators. “I do owe her an apology. As for Giorgio…the jury is still out, but I was impressed.”
“Whether or not you are impressed is irrelevant. He is the man she has chosen, and you can either accept that or don’t…and then lose her.”
“They’ve only known each other for—”
“Also irrelevant,” she interrupts with a casual wave of the hand. “And you are being very rude to your stunning date right now, Magnus.”
She looks ahead with her chin up in a way that settles the matter, at least as far as she’s concerned.
“I plan on enjoying tonight. John Legend is performing, and I want no distractions!”
“Yes, Mona,” I say, twisting my lips into a smile.
* * *
I usually hate the string of social events that take place in Monte Carlo. But I have to admit that even I am thoroughly impressed by the Gala de la Croix Rouge Monegasque each time I attend.
When our car makes it to the entrance, following a long line of luxury vehicles ahead of us, I escort both of my guests into the crowd of wealthy and famous individuals, diamonds and bow ties galore, mingling in the Salle des Etoiles Sporting Club. We pass under a canopy of flowers into an open area. The space is tastefully decorated in the apt colors of red and white. Vases of fat red and white roses are strategically placed, and pieces of art hang on the wall.
“There they are!” Mona exclaims, resting her hand on Sloane’s arm. I follow both their gazes to see the royal couple, posing for the mandatory press photos.
“She looks positively stunning,” Sloane admires.
“Yes, so elegant, just like Princess Grace,” Mona says, pressing one hand to her chest as she smiles sentimentally.
I note how she tactfully refrains from saying anything about Prince Albert II, who has a notorious past as a playboy—something that Mona has always fretted over (“his poor, dear mother must be turning in her grave!”).
“This is amazing,” Sloane says, looking around, her eyes practically bulging at the designer gowns and dripping jewels. The net worth in this room alone—including myself—could probably encompass the GDP of most countries in the world.
I lean in and whisper in her ear. “Just wait until it gets going.”
Chapter Fifty-One
Sloane
Magnus’s words still ring in my ears as we enter the main event where long tables are set up in the glamorous setting. The red lighting gives it a dramatic flair, making me feel like I’ve stepped into another world.
In fact, I probably have. In my job, I’ve been in the presence of obscene wealth, if not exactly rubbed shoulders with it. Here, I’m perfectly camouflaged as part of it.
Normally, I’d feel completely out of place. A girl from the Bronx, here in Monte Carlo of all places? Hobnobbing with the elite from literally every continent? A fact which is proven by the variety of traditional, yet exquisite attire I’ve seen so far.
It’s surreal.
Magnus’s presence is enough of a buffer to temper any feelings of inadequacy I might have. With my arm in his, he feels like a shield, guarding me against anyone who might look at me sideways. Not that anyone has—I mean, really, this dress alone would defy that.
Mona is also a calming yet amusing presence. Something about her is so perfectly wholesome and down-to-earth, yet here among the one-percenters of the world, she definitely doesn’t hold back.
“I mean really, showing that much…décolletage,” she says with her lips pursed as she stares at a young woman who, to be fair, has a rather impressive décolletage to show off. “And right here in the presence of the princess! I don’t even want to think of what may be going through the head of the prince.”
I bite back a smile, having already heard an earful about the infamous prince. I eye Magnus across from us as I take a bite of the starter, which is a zucchini flower with a dollop of caviar on top. The exotic flavorings, at least to my inexperienced palate, are delicious.
By the time we get through the multiple courses—not to mention bottles of wine that Magnus has been more than generous with—to the dessert, I’m full. Still, the artfully constructed treat placed before me that looks like a delicious mix made of apricot, vanilla, and hazelnut on a chocolate cake is just too tempting. Besides, the night has been pure indulgence already. What’s one more treat?
The prince and princess are the first on the dance floor, and I watch, feeling the alcohol and gourmet food lull my senses so that I practically swoon watching them. When the floor is open to everyone, Mona takes first dibs with Magnus. I sip my wine and watch with amusement as they try to make it work, being that she’s more than a foot shorter than him. But I have to give it to Magnus, the man has moves.
They get through three dances before she drags him back.
“I am officially done with him, my dear.” She turns to Magnus, who leans down to accept a kiss on the cheek from her. “As always, thank you, my love. Your annual obligations are done.”
Magnus chuckles. “You say that like this is a chore. I could think of worse obligations.”
“Please, I know how you feel about these things,” she says, pursing her lips. Then, she turns to me with a knowing look. “At least how you used to feel about them.”
I smile with pleasure as she grins at me. Then, I melt when I see the way Magnus is looking at me.
“Shall we?” He asks, reaching out a hand toward me.
I literally feel like a princess in some fairy tale—Cinderella at the ball, an updated version with John Legend singing live. I take Magnus’s hand, and he leads me to the floor.
By now, the couples around us are in full swing, and I get wrapped up in the vibe. My body feels as loose as my mind. Just a touch from Magnus sends sizzling electricity through me as he takes my hand to twirl me around. I want more, so much more.
It must be his magnetism drawing me closer so that I’m practically slithering over him in that tuxedo. Now his hands are on more personal places. My arms. My shoulders. My back. I stare up at him, his face tinted by the red lights of the event. It gives him a dangerous glow.
Is he the devil?
If so, tonight I’m a sinner, perfectly willing to give in to temptation.
As though on cue, the music shifts into something slower. The couples around us come in closer. Even though I didn’t think it possible to be any nearer to my own partner, Magnus draws me in. Every part of him is pressed into every part of me.
The music guides us in a slow sensual movement that transcends the idea of dancing. There’s a current running through him that flows through me, as though we’re one connected being.
I’m tall enough in these heels to only have to bend my head back slightly to look in his eyes. Even the lights can’t defy those green irises as they hold mine captive.
“Magnus,” I whisper.<
br />
It’s lost in the volume of the music, but he doesn’t need to hear the words. Like me, I can sense he feels it. His large hand comes up to caress my neck, before coming to a stop, holding me in place as he leans down.
That’s when the world around us stops, then completely disappears.
My own world is lost in Magnus’s lips as he guides mine. I’m not even sure if our bodies are still dancing. If they are, it’s nothing compared to how active my insides are as I fall blindly into the feeling of Magnus kissing me.
I don’t even know how much time has passed when he finally pulls away. Reality comes rushing back in like a shockwave, evaporating the alcohol in my system, and whatever overcame me just now. I laugh nervously and pull away.
Magnus takes my hand and draws me back to his front. “The fireworks will be starting soon.”
I’m not sure if he’s being literal or figurative.
The way he holds my gaze tells me it’s definitely a bit of both, the latter more so than the former. Did he feel that same connection flowing through him as we danced? I try to shake it away, knowing I shouldn’t allow myself to succumb to the fairytales invading my head. But Cinderella is still at the ball, glass slippers firmly on her feet.
We head back to the table to find Mona chatting animatedly in French with another couple.
“Ah, there is the lovely couple. You two have been causing quite the stir on the dance floor,” Mona says, giving us a knowing smirk.
“Are you going to lecture us, or are we going to watch the fireworks?” Magnus says with a smirk of his own.
I’m still lost in my head. My hand is still in his, and I feel like the world’s most willing prey. I want Magnus to do more than kiss me, I want him to devour me.
The feeling doesn’t wane as we follow the crowd outside to view the fireworks. The show is brief but spectacular. It lasts no more than five minutes, and each burst of light matches the intensity of my beating heart. It’s the perfect metaphor for how I feel.
Every one of those blasts of color in the air is thrilling and exciting in the moment. But I know they are created by something dangerous and combustible, something that could easily burn you if handled the wrong way.
And I’m still standing on a pile of gunpowder.
Am I putting too much trust in Magnus not to light the match that could make it go off? I have no idea what his overall plan to deal with Gabriel is. As such, I have no choice but to be cautious.
By the time the fireworks show is over, I do indeed feel like Cinderella. Like her, there was a brief, heady moment of bliss.
But reality bites.
Until Theo and I are safe, I can’t allow myself to play the princess, at least not at the expense of protecting myself—most importantly, my heart.
Tomorrow it will be business as usual.
This Cinderella is back to cleaning up the ashes.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Magnus
I knew bringing Sloane to this event would be dangerous, but I didn’t realize just how much I’d be putting myself, more importantly, my emotions in the line of fire. Even with Mona as a buffer, the intensity with which my heart beats echoes through my body like a sonic boom on repeat.
“Spectacular as ever!” Mona exclaims as the last of the lights in the sky fade.
Since the fireworks started, Sloane has been deliberately avoiding making eye contact, and now I’m left wondering if I was the only one who felt something on the dance floor.
“It was amazing,” Sloane says. There’s something in her voice that is almost sad for it to be over.
Mona sighs heavily. “This Cinderella is definitely ready to return home. I feel like the pumpkin itself after all that food and wine.”
Sloane’s eyes snap to her in mild surprise, her eyelashes blinking rapidly for some reason. She catches me looking at her and once again deliberately turns away to look at the crowd.
“Yes, it seems the festivities are over for the night,” I say in a terse voice.
“Don’t you go blaming an end to your fun on me, Magnus,” Mona says with a smirk. “You can send me home in the car while you two continue the night.”
“Actually, I’m pretty tired as well,” Sloane says, still not making eye contact.
My eyes flash to her, willing hers to at least glance my way. She does, briefly, and I see enough there not to risk saying anything.
For now.
Mona, amusingly enough, falls asleep on the ride back to her apartment. Her snoring is almost enough to cut the tension in the car between Sloane and me. At least it fills the deafening silence during the ride.
I leave Sloane in the car to help get Mona back to her apartment. Contrary to her earlier statement, my aunt still seems to be dancing on air during the walk down the hallway to her front door. Maybe I ordered too much wine tonight. Those multiple bottles definitely did the trick.
“She’s perfect for you, you know. I don’t know why you’re letting her slip away,” Mona muses in a half-sleepy voice.
“You got all that from one night?” I reply, trying to sound more amused than I feel.
“Mmm,” she says, nodding as she digs into her small purse to find her key. She pauses to give me a thoughtful look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so hesitant to go after what you wanted before. Even when you were younger, and we played games, you were fiercely competitive. You hated to lose,” she laughs as she pulls out the key she finally finds.
I feel my amusement disappear in a flash. Mona never holds back on being truthful, and wine has a way of intensifying that honesty, coating it with slightly less sugar than usual. She should also know that, along with hating to lose, I don’t like being reminded of my weaknesses.
“I’m glad you had a good time, Mona,” I say as she opens the door.
She stops and turns to me with a sympathetic smile. “Oh, Magnus, I didn’t mean to interfere. You know how I get when I’ve had too much wine.”
“You haven’t interfered with anything.”
She stares at me for an uncomfortably long moment before reaching up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek. “Goodnight, Magnus.”
“Goodnight, Mona.”
I stare at the door after she closes it, willing my body to go back to room-temperature from the heated state she’s put it in. Hell, if I’m going back to the car where Sloane waits while my emotions still take center stage.
By the time I make it to the back seat, I feel myself again. This time, the silence is welcome. It gives me time to think rationally.
In retrospect, Sloane’s reluctance to engage after the gala makes sense. We both still have agendas to fulfill. She can’t open her heart up while I still hold the key to her safety, so she still has every reason not to completely trust me.
And I can’t let her get in the way of completing the mission that I promised myself back at my mother’s funeral.
At La Mer, I escort Sloane out of the car and into the lobby.
“Thank you for inviting me, Magnus. It was an amazing night,” she says, seemingly under the impression that I’m dumping her in the lobby and leaving.
When I continue to walk her to the elevators, I sense her tense up.
“You don’t have to escort me to my room.”
“Nonsense, what kind of gentleman would I be if I left you here?”
“I thought there were no gentlemen.”
“Exactly,” I say as I press the elevator.
I feel her eyes on me, but I’m not giving her anything until we have some privacy.
When the doors open, Sloane pauses, then cautiously walks in.
I follow her.
When the doors close, I turn on her.
“What was that back at the gala? And don’t you dare say you have no idea what I’m talking about.”
She sighs and turns to me. “It’s what I said after that night in my suite. We can’t do this. You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do!” She i
nsists. “Think about why I’m here, Magnus.”
“I know why you’re here, and I don’t care. I know you felt something tonight, something that defies why you came.”
“Which is exactly the problem. I can’t let it defy why I came. I have my brother to think about. I have myself to think about.”
“I told you that you were safe.”
“But I can’t feel safe until this is over. If you really cared about me, you’d understand that.”
The elevator doors open before I can respond. Sloane uses the opportunity to exit. I follow, grabbing her arm before she can run down the hall away from me.
“Is that what’s holding you back? You don’t trust my word?”
“Don’t you have your own agenda?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t interfere with how I feel about you, or my determination to keep you out of danger.”
“Doesn’t it? You could end this today by giving me something real to take back to Gabriel. Something that wouldn’t blow up in my face when he found out you were bluffing. But you’d prefer to do it your way.”
That one gives me pause. “So it’s that I’m not giving you every detailed plan of mine? That’s what’s keeping your guard up?”
“The same way you have yours up with me. Don’t get me wrong, Magnus, I get it. You were right, we’re too alike, both relentless in going after what we want at the expense of everything else. So I don’t resent you for it, but it only proves that we also aren’t the types to let ourselves be overcome with emotion when it complicates things.”
It’s striking how well she knows me. Probably because she’s right, we are alike in that way. Once upon a time, I thought that would make her a perfect match for me. I didn’t realize it would also be what kept us apart.
I let go of her arm. “Just tell me one thing.”
Her chest rises and falls in anticipation. “What’s that?”
“Am I wrong in thinking that you felt something tonight?”
The Monte Carlo Shark: An International Legacies Romance Page 25