Kidnapped For His Royal Heir (Mills & Boon Modern)

by Maya Blake

  ‘You don’t care? Have you forgotten that one major reason you’re here is to get your hands on my invaluable letter of recommendation?’

  ‘Are you threatening to withhold it unless I indulge you in your silly little game? Is that what this is about?’

  His mouth twisted. ‘Let’s not throw around accusations on who is playing games with whom, Lady Barringhall.’ His voice was silky, like a stiletto knife sliding through butter. All without losing an ounce of his arrogant composure. Hell, he even nodded greetings to a few guests in the process of cutting her down.

  She refused to be cowed. ‘You didn’t answer my question. I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me since I arrived in New York. But if I’m wasting my time, at least have the balls to tell me so we can be rid of each other sooner rather than later,’ she dared, her heart banging hard against her ribcage. She didn’t want to risk irritating him more than she already seemed to be doing, but she didn’t want to throw away all her efforts either.

  They reached their designated high table and he slid back her chair, his strong, elegant hands braced on the sides as he waited for her to be seated.

  Violet moved, incredibly aware of his proximity, of his scent and the powerful body barely leashed beneath the trappings of civilised clothing. Aware of his complete focus on her. She called on every crumb of composure she possessed, thankful when she took her seat without stumbling.

  But then he lowered his head to align with hers, drawing a wild shiver as he murmured for her ears alone, ‘A few weeks of running around in my office, dispensing effortless English charm, isn’t going to quite cut it. If you want to earn my regard, you’ll need to do a lot more than lackey work. And as for my balls, Lady Barringhall, I’d caution you not to involve them in our conversations. At least, not in this setting. Later, though...who knows? I just might accommodate you.’

  Heat flared into her cheeks, whipping up a wild tornado that centred between her thighs. She refused to be thrown by the images he evoked. Nevertheless, it took considerable scrambling to get her brain to formulate an answer. ‘What do I need to do to prove my worth?’ she demanded once he was seated, frustration building in her chest.

  ‘You want to prove your worth? The trust is in the process of building eco-lodges in Tanzania. It’s a tourism initiative in partnership with the government to provide long-term income to the area. Tell me what you would bring to the table in this project.’

  Violet ruthlessly curbed her excitement. With a few words, he’d described everything she hoped to aspire to in her career. But she didn’t put it past him to dangle an offer in her face only to snatch it up the moment she expressed an interest. That gleam in his eyes had only intensified in the last few minutes, his focus on her almost rabid in its fervour.

  ‘How many lodges?’

  ‘Thirty to start off with catering to the discerning and environmentally-conscious tourist in mind. Twice that in phases two and three.’

  ‘When are you looking to vet volunteers? I could help you with that. Weed out those wanting a free ride against those committed to truly making a difference.’

  ‘There are a few on the ground already but the majority are lined up to be vetted in the next week or two.’

  She shook her head. ‘The rainy season starts in less than three months. If you don’t want the project severely disrupted, you need to move quicker than that.’

  A smile ghosted over his lips and Violet suspected he’d been testing her.

  Her shoulders went back. She lifted her chin and stared him straight in the eyes. ‘You want to test my true commitment? Include me in the project. My secondment is up in about the time it’ll take for this first phase to be done. Let me prove to you that this isn’t just some flight of fancy.’

  He wasn’t impressed by her declaration. If anything, his scepticism increased. ‘You wouldn’t be the first royal seeking to elevate their status by affiliating themselves with a project like this. Just so we’re clear, that’s not going to happen here.’

  ‘All I’m asking is that you suspend your suspicion of my motives for a few weeks and let me do what I came here to do. Or are you so cynical that you won’t even give me that chance?’

  His smile turned hard, edgy. ‘You seem in a mood to throw around taunts.’

  ‘I’m defending my character. I’m a hard worker. Take my word for it or let my actions speak for themselves.’

  Stormcloud eyes pinned her to her seat. But before he could respond, a hush descended, drawing their attention to the podium as the patron of the fundraising charity rose to make her welcoming speech. The world-renowned socialite, known for her skills in raising millions for charitable causes, repeatedly glanced over at Zak as she spoke.

  Despite being over a decade older than him, her interest was blatant, a fact, Violet suspected, that had contributed to her hosting this event.

  For a cynical moment Violet wondered if Zak had taken advantage of it. Whether he’d had even a moment’s pause before aligning himself with a woman whose gaze caressed his face even as she delivered a charming, quick-witted speech.

  She only registered that she’d been staring at him for an indecent amount of time when his gaze swung sharply to her, one eyebrow cocked at whatever he read in her expression.

  She resisted the urge to drop her gaze, allowed hers to linger before, feigning boredom, she turned towards the podium as the socialite ended her speech to applause.

  Violet couldn’t fault her. As her own mother had repeatedly striven to maximise every opportunity by hosting such events, people were more prone to opening their wallets when in a good mood.

  And the sight of Prince Zak Montegova, rising with masterful grace and long-limbed elegance to step up to the podium, made them feel extra-special.

  His speech was a sublime combination of wit, gravitas and arrogant challenge, rousing consciences and stirring sluggish apathy. Heads nodded and any remaining sceptics couldn’t help but be moved by the video presentation of the trust’s needs, especially in deprived communities.

  ‘And just so you’ll appreciate the urgency of my latest project, I’ve been informed by Lady Violet Barringhall, my newly appointed special advisor on our latest project in Tanzania, that time is even more of the essence if we’re to meet our goals. Which means you’ll also need to move fast or this particular train will leave without you. And if you miss this one, you won’t be guaranteed a seat on the next one.’

  And, simply because everyone in the room wanted a connection with the Royal House of Montegova and its representative Prince, they laughed a little more eagerly, their glances sharper as they turned to her, prying and assessing whether she was the conduit to their ultimate prize—access to Zak Montegova.

  But Violet wasn’t interested in them. She was wholly consumed by Zak’s revelation. Her heart banged anew when he stared at her in blatant challenge for a sizzling few seconds, absorbed the applause at the end of his speech, before stepping off the podium.

  He neither paused nor smiled in acknowledgement of the accolades dropped in his wake as he returned to the table.

  Soft music struck up from a string quartet as he resumed his seat.

  ‘You couldn’t have told me before you made the announcement?’ she asked, wondering why her excitement, while effervescent—because this was what she’d dreamed of for as long as she could recall—was tinged with an even sharper thrill she suspected had nothing to do with her new role and everything to do with the man who’d granted it.

  ‘I believe this is the moment in the process where you thank me for giving you this opportunity?’ he drawled silkily, dark grey eyes fixed on her face.

  Violet swallowed her sharp reply. Regardless of how the package had been delivered it was the content, the chance to start to make a difference, that mattered. ‘Thank you for the opportunity. And before you taunt me by asking me if I’m up to the task, I a
ssure you I am.’

  ‘You urged me to test your mettle. Consider this the first lesson. But I’ll be watching you every step of the way. One misstep and you’re done.’

  ‘There won’t be any,’ she stressed, for him and especially for herself. She couldn’t afford any, not if she wanted to drag herself out of the shadow of her parents’ misdeeds.

  ‘Good. We leave in seven days. You can have tomorrow morning off to pack.’

  Something wild and urgent fluttered in her belly. ‘We?’

  ‘Did I not mention it? I’ll be in on the ground in Tanzania too. Which means you’ll be working directly under me,’ he said, his voice deep, weighted with evocative meaning that sent blood surging through her body to concentrate traitorously between her thighs.

  He stared at her long enough to register the effect of his words on her. Then he turned away and addressed the other guests at the table.

  Violet sat back, attempted to absorb the swift turn of events, and the image she couldn’t erase from her mind—of her trapped beneath the sensual power and might of Zak Montegova—quickly enough.

  The gauntlet had been thrown down, and her with it, right into the spotlight. Perhaps in more ways than one.

  Either way, it was up to her to show him, to show everyone, that she wasn’t just a tainted title, biding her time until a rich, preferably titled man swept her off her feet and answered all her mother’s prayers.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TANZANIA WAS HOT, humid and stunningly beautiful. Even the humid bustle of Dar es Salaam held a unique vibe that escalated Violet’s excitement as they disembarked from Zak’s private jet and headed out of Tanzania’s largest city.

  Air-conditioned SUVs allayed a little of the discomfort travelling into the heart of the country caused with potholed roads, but Violet absorbed every second of it, still pinching herself that she’d managed to get herself into the field so quickly.

  Their final destination, Lake Ngoro, was still a good two hours away, according to the satnav, when they stopped for lunch.

  Despite the stunning and picturesque vista, the restaurant was little more than a few thatched huts with tables and chairs grouped under shaded umbrellas. When the procession of four SUVs stopped, Violet hid a grimace as the suited bodyguards alighted stiffly and formed a loose semi-circle around their Prince.

  ‘Something annoying you already?’ Zak enquired, his laconic drawl suggesting he wasn’t surprised. ‘The heat perhaps? Or the sparse surroundings? Five-star establishments a little thin on the ground for you?’

  Violet ground her teeth and breathed through her irritation as a waiter hurried towards them. ‘None of the above. If you must know, I was thinking that six bodyguards seem a little...excessive, don’t you think?’

  ‘Protocol dictates it needs to be this way. And I’d rather not incur my mother’s wrath by going against her wishes,’ he added with a wry twist of his lips.

  Queen Isadora was a formidable woman. Even though she and her mother were friends, Violet had met the Queen only twice in her life. Both times she’d been awed by the woman’s utter poise and the shrewd intelligence that shone from grey eyes she’d passed to her sons, along with her strength and resilience.

  ‘Does their presence ever get overwhelming?’

  He cracked open a bottle of iced water and poured her a glass before filling his own. ‘That’s like asking if breathing is tedious. It is what it is.’

  Her fingers curled around the chilled glass. ‘Would you change it if you could?’

  Despite the shades concealing his eyes, she felt his probing gaze. ‘Why would I want to change a status only a fraction of people ever get to experience? I’m deemed one of the luckiest men in the world to be surrounded by yes men and women all too eager to obey my every command,’ he stated with a thick layer of cynicism.

  ‘And yet your tone suggests otherwise,’ she replied.

  For a fraction of a moment he seemed startled by the observation. As if he’d let something slip he hadn’t intended to. Then his face resumed its stoic mask. ‘I was taught not only to appreciate the advantages of my status but also to help preserve it. And to deal effectively with those parasites who would attempt to leech their way into riches on my family’s coattails.’

  It didn’t take a genius to know she’d been lumped in with that deplorable crowd. ‘But you don’t mind using those yes men and women to accomplish your goals?’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Are we being specific here, Violet? Are you asking me if I take advantage of my status?’

  The man-eating eyes of that fundraising socialite flashed to mind and she tried to curb the curious sting in her chest. ‘Do you?’

  ‘I earn my dues in business. And in pleasure. No one has left my presence dissatisfied. Unless they absolutely deserved it, of course.’

  The urge to pluck the sunglasses off his face so she could read his expression warred with the very real need to deny that they were speaking about the same thing—the night of her eighteenth birthday. Had she deserved to be left dissatisfied like that?

  And why was he referring to it now?

  The waiter’s arrival with platters of food put paid to the dangerous train of thought she seemed to stray into with maddening frequency.

  ‘Are you done?’ He nodded at her plate twenty minutes later, a frown in his voice.

  She looked down at her plate. The food had been tasty so she attributed her elusive appetite to Zak’s presence more than anything else. ‘Turns out I’m not very hungry.’

  His lips firmed but he rose without saying a word.

  Back in the SUV, Zak Montegova handled the vehicle with effortless grace, his body packed with latent power that repeatedly drove the very air from her lungs each time she glanced his way. Bouncing over potholes and being jostled about, it was difficult not to be aware of her own body and its close proximity to Zak’s.

  So she was relieved to arrive two long hours later, to breathe the fresh, clean air of Lake Ngoro, the mostly flat green landscape where Zak had sited the Trust’s eco-lodges.

  Events had proceeded at breakneck pace after the fundraiser. As she’d predicted, donations had flooded in from the great and good, easily ensuring that they could fund another five projects within the year.

  And Zak’s confirmation on Monday that the rains were indeed expected in a few weeks sparked an urgency for the trip. Violet had read through hundreds of résumés, sat in on in-person and video conference interviews, and grilled each volunteer until she was certain the sixty-five they’d chosen would be up to the daunting task of constructing the eco-lodges in time.

  As she looked around now, she was gratified to see that the local construction crew who’d already been on site for two weeks were already at the final stages of laying the foundations.

  A man broke away from a group of workers hammering a sign board into the ground and hurried towards them. His dark bronze skin, curly mahogany hair and light eyes indicated a mixed heritage. Despite the sweat pouring down his face and sticking to his tie-dyed T-shirt, his grin was infectious and as open as his outstretched hand.

  ‘Hey, there. I’m Peter Awadhi, foreman slash friendly face slash official representative of the Tourist Board. We’ve spoken a few times on the phone but let me formally welcome you to Tanzania...um... Prince...er... Your Highness.’

  Violet hid a smile as he stumbled over Zak’s title.

  Zak shook his hand. ‘Zak is fine,’ he offered, although he didn’t return the man’s smile.

  Peter nodded, then glanced at her.

  She held out her hand. ‘I’m Violet Barringhall. Special advisor, volunteer co-ordinator and general dogsbody.’

  ‘Ah, you’re the new one in charge of the volunteers? Sweet. I have a few requests to swing by you later when you’ve had a chance to settle in.’

  ‘Of course. That’s what I’m here f
or.’

  His grin widened and Zak’s face soured further. ‘Are our tents ready?’ Zak asked.

  Peter released her hand, looked over towards the SUVs and shouted instructions in Kiswahili at the group erecting the sign. ‘They are. I’ll have your luggage taken to your assigned tents when you’re ready.’

  ‘We will. The sample lodge is ready to view?’ Zak asked.

  Peter nodded. ‘In the west compound, as you instructed.’

  ‘Take me there, I’d like to inspect it.’

  ‘Sure thing,’ Peter replied, in no way daunted by Zak’s hit-the-ground-running attitude.

  ‘When we’re done, I’d like a tour of the rest of the site, if that’s not too much trouble?’ Violet asked.

  Zak frowned. ‘We just arrived. You should rest.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m not tired and I’ve been cooped up in the car for hours. I’d like to stretch my legs and familiarise myself with the landscape in preparation for when the volunteers arrive tomorrow.’

  His lips firmed and he clicked his fingers. One of his bodyguards rushed forward and a low exchange took place in Montegovan. Before Violet could blink, a wide-brimmed straw hat magically appeared. Zak held it out to her. ‘Heatstroke is a serious issue here. I’d hate to have to use the chopper on our very first day.’

  She’d packed a hat for herself but with her luggage still stowed in the SUV, she had no choice but to accept Zak’s offering.

  ‘Thanks.’ She pulled on the hat, glad for the shade it offered.

  They made their way from the parking area to the heart of the site, where the large building that would house the reception, restaurant and spa were located.

  The construction crew were in the final stages of pouring concrete for the foundations. The handful of volunteers who’d been on site from the beginning would leave as soon as the new volunteers Violet had helped select arrived to start their work erecting the lodges.