The Reluctant Prince

by Candice Gilmer

  Bella walked into the kitchen where my laptop rested. “Come on, let’s see what—what’s this?” she asked, pointing at the box on the counter.

  “I don’t know. It came right after I got off the phone with you. I haven’t opened it.”

  “Who’s it from?” she asked, picking it up and shaking it a bit.

  “Jersey is the return address. I don’t know anyone in Jersey.”

  “Shall we open it?”

  I shook my head. “What if it’s some freaky present from Jim?”

  “It’s probably not.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Jim’s not smart enough to have it sent directly to you.”

  “He’s smart enough to follow my itinerary for Vegas.”

  “Well, he’s not smart enough to have someone else send you a package.” She picked it up and shook it again. “I’m going to open it.”

  “If a wedding cake explodes out of there, I’m not responsible.”

  Bella smirked as she pulled her keys out of her pocket and started cutting the box open.

  I couldn’t help myself. If she was gonna get blasted with an exploding wedding cake, then so was I. I was a cool friend like that. I watched over her shoulder.

  “Uh, Sydney? I don’t think this is anything explosive.” Inside the Fed Ex box was another box. This one said Amazon on it.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered, pretty damn sure I knew what it was.

  “Oh, there’s a note.” Bella pulled out the envelope that was resting on top of the box. When she lifted it, I saw, clear as day, that it was a new Amazon Kindle ebook reader, the thing Hadrian talked about in Vegas.

  “Sydney. Thought you might like this—we avid book readers have to stick together. Hadrian.” Bella fanned herself with the letter. “An exploding cake, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him.” I kept staring at the box. There had to be a catch. There had to be something wrong with this whole mess. This was far too expensive of a gift to randomly give to me.

  I snagged my cell phone. “Don’t take it out yet.”

  “Why not?” Bella asked.

  “Because it’s going back. I can’t accept that.” It was far too expensive. Sure, I would want one, who wouldn’t? But they’re super expensive, and I can’t afford that.

  I started typing a text to Hadrian.

  Seriously, a Kindle? Those things are way too expensive. I’m going to send it back.

  Syd

  “I think you’re being stupid,” Bella said. “He obviously likes you. And he’s buying you an expensive present. Take it. Be happy. Don’t look for the dark side of it.”

  I glared at my friend. “How would you like it if some guy you met for two days sent you a four hundred dollar toy?”

  “That guy is the father of your baby.”

  I opened my mouth to say something back, but my cell phone went off, alerting me to a new text message.

  You will not send it back.

  H

  “Oh I won’t, will I?” I muttered as I typed a response back.

  I will too. And shouldn’t you be sleeping?

  Syd

  Bella ignored my wishes and started taking the Kindle out of the box. “Oh look, a little case for it. Cool.” She pulled out the instruction book and started fiddling with the thing—cords and packing surrounding her like pillows.

  “Put that back!” I hollered.

  “I’ll put it back when you tell Hadrian you’re pregnant.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “That’s not something you tell someone via text messaging.”

  “If you can text, you can call.”

  I didn’t like her logic, it made too much damn sense.

  “Just go visit your friend Nick O’Tine and calm down.”

  “I quit two weeks ago,” I said. I wanted to start putting everything back in the case, but like a strong magnet, the ebook reader drew me to it. I wanted to read books. And if I bought a pregnancy book, I could upload it on the reader and no one would know what I was reading…

  That had serious possibilities.

  My phone went off again. New text message.

  If you send it back, I’ll send you a new one.

  H

  I answered him back.

  Fine. I’ll keep it.

  Syd.

  I may not like why I got it—it felt weird, like he was buying me off or something, sending me such an expensive gift. A copy of one of the books we talked about, I would be cool with. But the reader? I knew what they were. I’d been checking them out for a while now.

  “You can download newspapers and stuff on this,” Bella said, reading the instructions.

  “Will you quit?” I muttered.

  “This is the closest I’ve ever been to a celebrity. I’m living vicariously through you.”

  A wave of nausea hit me. “Maybe you can have the baby for me then.” I grabbed some saltines and started munching. I seriously was going to hate saltines pretty soon.

  Ding.

  Order anything you want. I’ve put a few books on it for you.

  H

  I blinked at the text message. I grabbed the machine out of Bella’s hand and started turning it on.

  “It’s not charged up yet. You really shouldn’t start reading anything on it until it’s ready.” Bella tried to pull it away from me, but I wouldn’t let her.

  I pulled up the book list.

  The device listed the bestselling literary, mystery, thriller, sci-fi, fantasy and romance books out there. And as I scrolled down, I saw that the entire series of each genre had been added.

  And one cook book—his.

  That little shit.

  I see you did. Thank you.

  Syd

  Tears welled up in my eyes. Damn stupid friggin’ hormones.

  Welcome.

  H

  Chapter Seventeen

  Robert entered Hadrian’s room. He was in the shower, the water was running full blast, but Hadrian’s voice could be heard over the water.

  He rolled his eyes. The boy had never been able to sing.

  He felt his gut tighten as he started going through Hadrian’s things. While he didn’t want to believe that Hadrian had anything to do with the attack, they had to be thorough. Bastien insisted that going through Hadrian’s stuff was necessary.

  They’d interrogated damn near everyone there was to talk to, except Hadrian. Robert’d been avoiding it, if at all possible.

  No major leads had been revealed. The attack was planned, and the men who kidnapped Michel were paid to do it by an outside source. The men who’d kidnapped him had been found, but unfortunately, they were already dead. Whoever orchestrated this didn’t want any leaks.

  The man who’d initially assaulted the brothers outside the hospital, the one who had distracted everyone, had been interrogated repeatedly, even using forms of persuasion that usually required medical assistance, but nothing had come of it.

  The gunman had been hired by the two men who’d been found dead to create a distraction. Killing Dante had not been in the plan. At least not from what he knew.

  The plan had been to aim at the two princes, not to actually fire. The gunman claimed the gun went off accidentally.

  The whole mess made Robert angry. They had no way of knowing who was responsible for this. His gut screamed at him that this was some kind of inside job.

  But the only problem was that it all pointed back at Hadrian. He truly was the only one who would benefit from the deaths of the cousins. And now that Hadrian knew the king was dying, well, he had even more reason to want to be crown prince.

  But therein lay the problem. Hadrian had never wanted to be a functioning member of the royal family.

  So who would want to put Hadrian, probably the least qualified person for the job, on the throne of Koros? Someone did. That was for certain.

  He picked up Hadrian’s cell phone and began scrolling through it. There was the usual stuff, schedules, contacts, and
to do lists.

  And something caught his eye.

  In the memos section, there was a listing called “Royalty.”

  He opened the file.

  As he read, he squeezed the phone.

  He almost shattered it in his hand, which would have destroyed the evidence. Every part of his being screamed that this was wrong. That it wasn’t supposed to be this way. That he wasn’t seeing it.

  He blinked a few times, hoping his eyes deceived him. That he’d misinterpreted the information on the phone.

  Hadrian came out of the shower. “Hey, Robert,” he said, towel around his waist. “What’s going on?”

  Robert thought he’d vomit. “Put on some clothes.” He waved the phone at him. “And you have some explaining to do.”

  “For what?”

  He held up the phone. “For this.”

  Hadrian came over to him. “What?” He tried to look at the screen.

  “This,” Robert said, holding it out for him to see, but not letting go so Hadrian couldn’t delete the information.

  He scanned down the display on the phone, and his face turned ashen. “That’s not mine,” he replied. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Then why is it on your phone.”

  “I have no idea. I didn’t write that.”

  “You’d better have a damn good reason for this, boy, or I’ll kill you myself.”

  Hadrian slipped on some clothes, and Robert escorted him out of the room.

  Regardless of promises, this was going to get ugly.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The room, a small anteroom off of the king’s study, smelled of coffee and an overworked air freshener. The faintest hint of brandy was also in the air.

  Something that Hadrian would love to have.

  Hadrian ran his hands through his hair, wishing more than anything he could run outside for a smoke. Or an escape. Either would work. Even something from the liquor cabinet would help.

  Robert had found a bunch of files on his Blackberry that implicated him in the plot against his cousins.

  Files he’d never seen before.

  “How many times do you want me to tell you the same thing?” Hadrian stared at Bastien, and tried to get something from Robert, who was standing in the corner, but his long-time bodyguard barely made eye contact with him.

  The files contained contacts, emails, memos, and lists of dates and times, including wire transfers and directions to a location. The location where the two men who’d kidnapped Michel had been found dead.

  The door to the room came open, and the king came inside. He didn’t look as pale as he had yesterday in his suite, and Hadrian wondered if it was makeup.

  “What do you know?” the king asked, his eyes flickering between Bastien and Robert.

  “He denies everything,” Bastien said.

  “I had no doubt of that,” the king said. “Have you corroborated his story?” The king didn’t really look away from Hadrian, but the expression was not a pleasant one. His uncle was sizing him up, trying to decide.

  He’d seen that expression before, when his uncle was about to deal out punishment against Hadrian or his own boys.

  “We’re working on it.”

  “So where did these files come from?” the king asked.

  Hadrian let out a sigh. “Alicia’s phone. I downloaded everything from hers to mine after we talked, trying to get my schedule.” He’d already explained this to Robert and Bastien, but Bastien didn’t believe him. Even Robert was looking like he doubted Hadrian’s innocence.

  Hadrian didn’t know what else to say. It was the truth. His head ached. His body was sore from sitting. He was breaking. He knew that.

  “And your assistant arranged everything? She planned this entire coup against my home, against my family? The assistant the queen handpicked for you?” The king, when truly furious, did not yell. His voice turned gravelly as he spoke, more frightening than any yelling could ever be.

  Guilty or innocent.

  Hadrian shivered at the words. He’d done his best up to this point. He’d started by being calm. He’d even tried yelling about being accused of this horrible crime. Now, though, there was nothing left. “I would never, not in a million years, hurt Dante or Michel. I didn’t do this. If Alicia wasn’t responsible for it, she sure as Hell had something to do with it.”

  “Do you have anything to back up your story?”

  Hadrian shook his head. “Not with me.” He glanced at his phone, and saw the open port on the side of it, an answer coming to him. “But I know where I can get proof.”

  “Where is that?” Robert asked, taking a step forward, coming more into the light.

  “Alicia’s home computer. She backs everything up on her home system.”

  “I don’t believe Alicia would do this. She is completely devoted to you.” Bastien let out a sigh as he shifted in his chair.

  “Perhaps that is the problem,” the king said with a cough. He looked at Robert, patting him on the shoulder. “Get to the Americas and get her computer.”

  Bastien shook his head. “I don’t like it,” he said, glancing for a second at Hadrian, then back at the king.

  The king pulled himself up to his full height, which still wasn’t as tall as the head guard, but he did look very intimidating. “I am still king, Bastien.”

  Bastien’s head went down. “Apologies, Your Majesty.”

  Hadrian felt the tension in his shoulders start to recede. Maybe, just maybe he’d be able to get out of this mess. With his head intact. Not that he liked the idea of considering that his assistant could be the one who orchestrated all of this, but it sure as Hell wasn’t him.

  Hadrian ran his hand through his hair again, as if to push off all the stresses.

  “Find Alicia and arrest her. I don’t want her running off,” the king said.

  “Already on it,” Robert said, his cell phone in his ear, issuing commands.

  The whole thought that Alicia could be capable of something like this, something so horrific…

  To what end? To put him on the throne? He’d throw Koros into poverty in a year, he’d ruin the place. Hadrian wasn’t king material. He never had been.

  Random flashes of time with Alicia came to mind—all her catty comments about the women Hadrian dated, how over the last year she’d made herself practically indispensable to him, ensuring he couldn’t live without her.

  That’s what they want you to think… Sydney’s words came back to him.

  “Maybe she wanted more,” Hadrian muttered.

  “What do you mean?” the king asked.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s always been very nasty whenever I made a comment about not being king, my place being so far down the line, I had no shot. She didn’t like that at all. Even now, she’s been almost happy about this whole turn of events.”

  “Happy?” the king asked.

  “Not happy, per se, but smug maybe? Like she knew this would come, and I would be king eventually. She told me in the car on the way here that she was some kind of baroness, I think, from Germany or some such.”

  “No she isn’t,” the king said. “She’s a commoner, raised in an orphanage. The queen had her researched thoroughly upon hiring her.”

  “Well, she will be questioned,” Robert said. “It shall be most entertaining.”

  Hadrian stared at Robert for a full minute. “You’re far too excited about this prospect.”

  Robert said nothing, a grin of vengeful glee on his face.

  The king looked Hadrian up and down. “Are you certain about this computer business?”

  He nodded. “Cross-check the phone with the computer.”

  Bastien glanced at the king. “Sir, I don’t believe allowing Hadrian to go is wise. He’s still a suspect.”

  The king patted Bastien on his shoulder. “This is my nephew. I trust him.” He returned his gaze to Hadrian. “If you’re right, and this isn’t your information, then we’ll find it on another com
puter. We need to find it.”

  Robert looked much less mean than he had only a few short minutes ago.

  Yeah we do, Hadrian thought to himself. Because he may not know all the Korosian laws and procedures, but for something like this, beheading was a blessed punishment. And Hadrian was getting rather attached to his head—he’d had it all his life.

  The door creaked open. A guard came in. “Sir, I can’t find her. Alicia is missing.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I’ve found it—the absolute perfect house for you.” Bella had been on a mission the last couple of weeks, helping me look for places to move to. Which was more pleasant than being at the doctor’s office, where I currently was. My latest session of poking and prodding was over, and so far, I was healthy.

  Even though Jim had been keeping his distance recently, I hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that he’d been in my apartment, which had been the prompting I needed to start looking for someplace else to live.

  And Bella loved a challenge.

  “Really? Where?”

  “On LuAnn Street.”

  “Over by your place?”

  “It’s a couple blocks north of my house. Meet me here.”

  I got the address and hopped in my car to go over and see the place. The house literally was down the street from hers. I saw Bella’s Explorer in the drive, and she was standing on the porch and waved as I cruised up to the curb.

  “You have got to see this. I think it’s perfect.” She almost dragged me out of the car and up the drive. The house was a smallish ranch house, brick on the bottom half, siding on the top. There was hardly any landscaping around the concrete slab with a railing that was supposed to represent a porch. Even the walkway was bricks from the drive to the front porch. The only decoration was the two huge oak trees in the yard, blocking most of the front from view.