“I picked out a style,” Alexandria said, almost a bit hesitant. “If you don’t like it then you can choose something else.”
Sam nodded.
“Follow me,” Eduardo said, and led Sam to a private change room, closing the door as Sam entered. “Let me know if you need any help.”
There were two club chairs in the sitting area out side the change room. The idea behind it was for the person to come out and strut their stuff in the new outfit. That wasn’t Sam and she didn’t think he would come out. She figured he would stick his head out and tell them he hated it. Therefore she didn’t need to sit down for that.
Sam emerged ten minutes later in the two-button notch, satin lapels, single-breasted black jacket, black shirt and tie with trouser to match. Since black was his choice of color most of the time, when she saw the tuxedo she knew it would look nice on him. Nice was an understatement. The tuxedo looked better on Sam than it did on the model in the catalogue. He simply took her breath away. All she could do was stand there and stare at him speechless, mouth hung open.
“I would breathe if I were you, sugar,” Eduardo whispered in Alexandria’s ear grinning at her.
“Well?” Sam said looking at her, obviously not liking the fuss Eduardo was making.
“Um…nice,” she said as if she didn’t know any other word in the English language, and Lord knows there were plenty to describe him.
Hot.
Drop dead gorgeous.
Heart throb.
“Nice? No, sugar…it’s fantastic! That tuxedo style was made for him. Come over to the three way mirror for a better look.”
Sam glanced into the change room. She suspected he didn’t want to leave his gun lying around.
“I don’t need a three way mirror.”
“Are you interested in doing some modeling work? You can make a ton of money.”
“We’ll take it?” Sam said, looking at Alexandria for approval. She nodded.
“It’s a sample. My guess was right on the money. I’ll place the order for you,” Eduardo said when Sam disappeared into the change room. “You’ll have it for the gala.”
Sam emerged from the change room with the tuxedo folded over his arm and handed it to Eduardo.
“If you’re hungry we can grab something to eat before we head home.”
“I could eat something,” Alexandria said, finally finding her voice. “There’s a café a couple of doors down the street. They have great salads. We can walk.”
They exited the store, passing the SUV. It wasn’t parked by a meter. Whatever his reasons for leaving Eduardo’s, he wasn’t going to share it with her.
Today was the best day of the week. She couldn’t have asked for a better day. It was forecast for rain but the sun wasn’t having any of that. The sidewalk buzzed with people, mostly tourists enjoying the warm weather and the city.
Not only had Alexandria had a productive morning with the gala preparation, she had gotten Sam into a tuxedo, which she seriously hadn’t thought she had a prayer of doing. She’d discussed with Eduardo to charge the bill to her account before Sam came out of the change room. He’ll probably yell and scream at her but she didn’t care.
“You like the tuxedo, right?” Sam asked after they were seated at the café. “I mean, you wouldn’t tell me you did just to make me feel better.”
She looked at him, surprised he would ask.
“Nah, you’d tell me if you hated it,” he concluded, picking up the menu the waiter left on the table.
“The question is, do you like it?”
“I do.” Sam picked up his napkin and spread it across his lap. He turned toward the door when it opened and an older couple strolled in.
“You seem almost shocked that you do.”
“All of this is not my world,” he reminded her looking around the café.
What he saw were people dressed in designer outfits and showing off their diamonds while drinking expensive coffee in glass cups. What about the couple that just walked in wearing T-shirts, shorts and flip-flops?
The atmosphere in the Italian café was comfortable enough that you could wear just about anything and no one would care. Sam had tunnel vision when it came to money. He couldn’t see beyond it.
“It’s a tuxedo that you’ll be wearing to an event. Why are you trying to make it more than what it is?”
“It’s more than that. It’s the store, the Porsche, the condo…”
“Do you want me to apologize for having money?” She knew she sounded defensive. He had a way of making her feel guilty about being rich. It wasn’t even hers. It all belonged to her father.
“Why should you apologize for who you are? I’m the one with the problem, not you.”
Alexandria ordered the spinach and chicken salad and an ice tea. She finished the ice tea and got a refill. Picking at her salad, she watched Sam while he polished off his club sandwich and juice.
“You seem like a nice enough guy when you’re not getting on everyone’s nerve. Why aren’t you with anyone?” She figured if there were a significant other, he would have told her about it. Besides, Matt said he preferred his own company, whatever that meant.
“Haven’t had time. Finish your salad.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“What happened to ‘I could eat’?”
“Why do you hate rich people?”
He sat back in his chair. “I don’t hate rich people.”
“You just paint us all with the same brush. It amounts to the same thing.” Alexandria put the fork down across her plate, lifting her head to meet his gaze. “I don’t think that’s fair.”
He stared at her for a moment then focused on his empty plate. She didn’t think he was going to answer.
“In my former life I was a homicide detective. The woman that died, her name was Monika Beck. Her daddy was rich. A rich bastard that thought he could buy the whole world, and pretty much did. I couldn’t do a thing about it.”
“Why?”
“About four years ago I got shot, then got hooked on pain killers, in that order,” he said, twisting his mouth. “When I got back to work after I got clean, I was assigned a murder case. Everyone thought her husband killed her. I walked away from it because I was told to. It was in my best interest. Melanie killed her sister, Monika, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could to about it. You see Melanie’s daddy was in bed with my boss at the time.”
Alexandria was silent while he spoke. She sensed the anger in his voice. It seemed he still carried the guilt over what happened, but it was the bitterness she couldn’t get over.
“A few months ago Melanie resurfaced, all messed up in the head. You see, she thought she was her dead sister, Monika.”
“What do you mean she thought she was her dead sister?”
“They had some kind of plan where Monika was going to fake her death and make it look like her ex-husband killed her. Monika backed out and Melanie killed her then fell off the face of the earth. Her parents covered up the murder. Then like I said, she showed up with the facts all screwed up in her head, hell bent on revenge against Beck?”
“Beck?”
“Monika’s ex-husband. Melanie kidnapped a woman and killed her boyfriend. Melanie was a product of her rich daddy’s love. He molested her when she was a child.”
“Poor woman.”
“Poor woman? She killed two people.”
Alexandria was taken aback by the coldness in Sam’s voice. Where was his compassion?
“I know what she did was wrong, but don’t you feel a little sorry for her? There were extenuating circumstances,” Alexandria said, feeling the need to defend a woman she didn’t even know. “It seems to me you should be more compassionate and accept some responsibility.”
“Excuse me?” His started at her, his eyes cold. “Are you saying it was my fault?”
“No. I’m saying we’ve all made bad decisions in our life because of circumstances. Sometimes they are circumstances that we have no
control over. We should learn from them instead of blaming other people or ourselves.”
She was also talking about herself and the lessons that she’d learned in the past few days. Sam took it to mean she was passing judgment on him.
“Melanie’s dead because of her father,” he spat the words at her. “Let just say fathers don’t always know best.”
Sam wasn’t just talking about Melanie’s father; he was also referring to her father. She didn’t like his tone.
“Melanie’s father was a monster. My father never touched me. Not in that way.”
“He paid off Damien to get him out of your life because he didn’t want to share you with anyone else.”
“You make it sound dirty.”
She knew what her father had done was wrong, but he was still her father. He loved her. He was all she had.
“How many fathers do you know who would pay off their daughter’s boyfriends to get them out of her bed?”
His tone was condescending and it cut through her defense of her father. Her only response was to lash out at him.
“At least my father stuck around. Where’s yours?”
• • •
“What is it?” Prescott lifted his head out of the files when Matt busted into the office and slammed the door. “I told Mimi I didn’t want to be disturbed.”
Matt threw a device on the desk that looked like a long tube with an eye on the end of the tube.
“What’s this?”
“You tell me, Mr. Prescott.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Warren said with annoyance. “I’m about to lose the Columbia deal because the board of directors don’t want to accept my latest offer. Pardon me if I don’t participate in your little game of show and tell.”
Columbia Electronics was his latest venture and he was losing money on the deal. What the board of directors failed to realize was that without him, the company would go under within a year. He wanted the company and he would get it. It was worth more money dismantled than together. The workers will have to find another job. People lost their jobs every day. It wasn’t his problem how they were going to feed their families.
“This is a video camera. Sam ripped it out of the vent in Alexandria’s bedroom.”
“When?”
“A couple days ago.”
“Why didn’t she tell me? I spoke to her and she kept it from me. This is Sam’s doing.”
“Do not put this on Sam. I want to know if you had anything to do with this.”
“I didn’t authorize this.”
“What did you authorize?”
Warren stood up slowly, examining the device Matt had thrown on the desk. He felt the color drain from his face.
What have I done?
“Are you insane? I can’t believe you went through with it. I thought it was the liquor talking when you got wasted after she moved out.”
“He was only supposed to scare her.”
“Scare her? Jesus! He threw blood in her face.”
“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” Warren felt sick to his stomach. The gravity of what he had done weighed heavily on him. Matt looked at him in disgust.
“Call it off, Prescott. Sam is not stupid. He’ll figure it out and when he does, he’ll tell Alexandria. She’ll hate you—that I can promise.”
“I can’t call it off. Mr. O’Malley will have to find him. That’s why I hired him.” Warren sat down and dropped his head in his hand. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far. I just wanted her to come back home.”
“That’s why you wanted someone from the outside. You thought you could control Sam like you do everyone else.” Matt turned to leave, his hand on the doorknob.
“Wait,” Warren said. “Can you fix it?”
“Not this time. I’ve told you before I’ll go to the line, but I won’t cross it. Not for you. You need to fix it yourself. In the meantime, I’ll continue to help Sam.” Matt shook his head. “I had a feeling you were involved, but I didn’t want to believe it.”
“Name your price.”
Matt flung the door open and stalked out of the room and Warren ran after him.
“Come back here!”
By the time Warren got to the front door, Matt was already in his car tearing down the driveway. He could ask Colt to stop him but didn’t bother. Matt would come around. He always did. The price had to be right. This time he had a feeling it would cost him more than he was willing to pay.
“Why are you shouting?” Mimi asked when she came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands in the apron tied around her waist.
“It doesn’t concern you.” He closed the front door and headed for his office.
“I’ve never seen Matt this angry. What have you done?”
Chapter Thirteen
Sam stood in front of the mirror in the of the guest washroom buttoning his shirt, tucking it in his trousers. He had left the master washroom with its marble and glass décor all to Alexandria.
An hour ago they had been out on one of the private balconies enjoying the panoramic view of the lakes, pool and gardens from the presidential suite. It was theirs for two nights, but when they’d checked in Alexandria had told the lady at the front desk only one night was required. He figured the blow out at the restaurant had something to do with it.
Even though the stalker was still a threat, she’d made him promise not to spoil the evening by mentioning it. And he’d kept his promise.
While she did her final inspection to ensure that every centerpiece was perfectly placed on each table and that the band was setting up in the right spot, he’d made his final arrangements with security.
Three hundred and fifty tickets were sold at five hundred dollars a piece. Only those with tickets got access to the function. Extra security was posted at every entrance and everyone had a radio to report anything suspicious. The venue was ready awaiting the arrival of the Princess at the ball.
They planned for everything and even Matt was in on the security detail. Sam had nearly taken Matt’s head off when he’d caught him outside of Eduardo’s, an order Matt had said came from Prescott. Since Sam was working for Alexandria, then Matt was working for Prescott to ensure the Princess was being protected. It didn’t hurt to have his back watched but Matt should’ve told him. Anyway, that wasn’t important now.
Keeping Alexandria safe was all that mattered. Sam figured, as he brushed his hair, if anything was going to happen, tonight was as good a time as any. He and Matt would be ready.
Sam entered the master bedroom and grabbed the jacket Alexandria had laid across the bed for him. He heard her humming in the adjoining washroom. She’d wanted a soak before the event. She should’ve been finished by now and dressed. It was almost time to go.
He shrugged into his jacket then did a double take when he saw his reflection in the round mirror hanging over the large dresser. The tuxedo was delivered to their room an hour ago. He’d gotten it in twenty-four hours. Even though the garment fitted him perfectly, he felt out of place. This wasn’t his life. He didn’t belong here.
Money talked. In Alexandria’s world you can get anything you want with money. He headed for the living room, with a full entertainment center, where the gala committee had met briefly after they’d checked in.
Sam had never stayed in any place remotely close to this palace and unless he won the lottery, it was safe to say it was unlikely he would do so again. Princess was used to this kind of living every day of her life. What was he thinking when he crossed the boundary and landed in her bed. Did he think for one moment she would give it all up? For him?
When the bedroom door opened, she floated out wearing a diamond collar red sleeveless evening gown that hugged her waist and flowed softly down her legs. A slit at the back showed enough leg that made his mouth dry, and sent his heart beating so loudly he thought for sure the guests in the next suite could hear it.
Sam had never understood the phrase ‘time stood still’ until that very moment. Nev
er had he seen anyone so beautiful and he stood there watching her.
Speechless.
Breathless.
She moved with grace, hips gently swaying and she walked toward him in red stilettos. The next time they made love—and there would be a next time—he was going to insist that she keep them on.
Mine.
At that moment, it didn’t matter that she was out of his league. He staked his claim.
Mine.
The dress wasn’t like the other dresses he’d seen her in. There was no statement, no showing off. This was different. She was different.
Mine.
It seemed every time he opened his mouth, he said something that ticked her off. Yesterday, he’d taken shots at her daddy and she had hit back, hard. She was different all right. She wasn’t the spoiled Princess he’d met days ago. No. She’d emerged as a strong and confident woman.
“You’re beautiful,” Sam said when he removed his tongue from the roof of his mouth and swallowed.
“And you look very handsome.”
She stopped in front of him, hair piled high in a mass of sexy curls, lips luscious, red, and kissable. He wasn’t content in just looking. He wanted to touch and ran the back of his hand along her cheek then cupped her face.
“You really do look like a Princess.”
Sam wasn’t just content with touching. He wanted to taste. She tilted her head to one side as if anticipating his kiss, and his lips touched hers. Soft and sensual. He took his time exploring her mouth with his tongue. When the kiss ended they stood staring at each other.
She smiled, looking warmly into his eyes. “And what does that make you, my Prince?”
“What?”
“You said I looked like a Princess. I wanted to know if that meant you’re my Prince.”
“I guess it does.”
• • •
Prince Charming indeed, Alexandria thought as she entered the grand ballroom with Sam by her side, smiling and greeting the guests.
From the delicately draped sheer satin that swagged from the ceiling around a massive chandelier with lights that sparkle from a thousand crystals, the fairytale theme was perfect.
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