Forbidden Earl

by Victoria Pinder

  He angled his chair closer. "Any particular reason?"

  If she somehow landed this job, she'd have to get her raging crush under control. She didn’t like people looking directly into her eyes as he was doing right now, but she carefully chose her words to answer his question. “I’m not trying to impress anyone. I know my place and how to be a professional.”

  He read his paperwork again. "Kristin, your resume also says you have a marketing background."

  "Yes." At least her voice sounded normal. She crossed her legs. "I’ve run a successful online launch for the watch band company I briefly worked at." His attention was drawn to the slit in her skirt so she uncrossed her legs, self-conscious. "We sold out of the band. Now I work for an insurance company."

  His gaze returned to her eyes. "Why did you leave that job?"

  The interview was back on track. Good. She could handle business. She’d always wanted to travel and learn, but she knew the value of a penny in the bank. Her parents had taught her frugal now meant security in the future. Her body eased. "The watch band was exciting, but once they sold out, her position was over."

  “And insurance?”

  “The insurance company because there were health benefits and a 401K, but it was so boring. Your position would be anything but, and I’m up for the challenge.”

  “I hope that’s true.” He opened the folder again and scanned the contents. "So, let's get right to this. How much are you for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year?"

  Her pulse surged. Did she really have a chance here? And she had no clue how much she should say for a salary demand. What a terrible interview question! "I would need to give two weeks’ notice at work, but I don't have any family obligations."

  He stared at her and she noticed that his brown eyes had a hint of green. No picture had ever captured that illusive color.

  "You didn't answer the question. How much are you?"

  She blinked. What question, she thought but then she remembered the salary. She’d checked online and the starting salary for a secretary was forty thousand, but he wanted around the clock attention. Late nights meant she should request more. Her stomach churned. She needed to be in the ballpark number so that he didn't laugh her out of the office. "$60,000? For the extra time."

  He rubbed the lower part of his chin. "That's low for what I'm asking."

  Really? "For a secretary, it's a competitive price."

  His grin curved into a smirk. "How much for you to be my wife?"

  She jerked in her seat. Was this a joke? "Your wife?" Nothing on earth could have prepared her for this moment. Seriously. She searched every corner, every wall, wondering where the cameras were hidden.

  Her mother had warned her to choose her future husband carefully and never fall for a playboy. Prince Antonio had a new girlfriend every other day. She tried to sound like she was in on the joke. "Aren't you a world-renowned bachelor with women begging to be your wife?"

  He nodded as if proud. "Yes, but I want a wife with a head on her shoulders who doesn't expect my love or devotion."

  The air in the room felt thinner. He was serious. She let out a sigh. "What?"

  "To start, I'll pay you $150,000 a year plus living expenses for you to be my wife, and the salary has options for pay increases over time."

  Her pulse raced so fast she wasn't sure how she managed to speak. The position he wanted filled was for his spouse, not a secretary. What duties would a wife perform? "What about children?" Sex?

  He riffled through the file and handed her a contract as he pointed to section two, subparagraph four. "Now if you want to negotiate that's fine, but I already stipulated in the contract that I will pay a flat, one-time rate of $500,000 for the first child and then $250,000 for each additional, plus reconstructive surgery for every child produced. If you don't wish to raise any children, I can provide a twenty-four hour nursery."

  The words out of his lips were cold, professional and devoid of any feelings. Love might not exist, but marriage was meant to be more than figures in a contract.

  One day she had vaguely imagined she'd be a mom and have kids with a husband, dog and a house in the suburbs, but she wasn't sure. In those moments, she never once imagined herself as some princess in a castle in a country she couldn’t pronounce. She met his stare and for once she didn’t melt. "I’d want to raise my own children."

  He held her gaze and that speck of green mesmerized her. "Would you like this job, Kristin?"

  He made it sound like he was asking her to be part of his company, rather than sleep at his side for the rest of her life. Her heart pounded. Antonio would be hers. Her fingers ached to touch him, but she folded her hands in her lap. For him, this was business. Could it be for her, too? "It's a lot of money."

  He nodded. "You’re my top candidate. What would you need from me to close the deal?"

  Life as a royal would be surreal and the only thing she could compare it to was a movie because honestly things like this didn’t happen in real life. “Is this a trick?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Why did you interview me like this, for a job?”

  “What people are like on paper and in person can be very different. I wanted an escape clause, but now that I’ve met you I see you are exactly what I expected.”

  Her body stirred, but she deferred giving her answer. "I don’t want to read every day that you're sleeping around."

  She doubted a contract meant he’d be faithful, which was another reason to run out of this room. Public ridicule was not her forte. Run, right now.

  "Discretion is a necessary component in my life and I'd never publicly humiliate my family."

  Raised with old-fashioned values on a Kansas farm, her parents hadn’t loved one another. Kristin had vivid memories of sitting at the kitchen table when neither of them spoke a word to each other directly, using her as a go-between to pass the butter. They’d stayed together because they’d made a promise to God, and not because they were happy.

  Every silent day slowly killed them.

  After their deaths, she’d sold the farm and moved to the city, betraying those values. She yearned for a different life, filled with hope, but if she went and married Antonio, for wealth and security rather than working for it, there would be no redemption for her from heaven above.

  Now it was time to ask the ultimate question. Each second dragged. She stared into his brown eyes, noting his regal nose and thick, dark hair. To be in his arms might be like tasting heaven itself—she couldn’t let attraction rule her. She folded her hands over her knee to maintain control. Perhaps he meant that she’d go to a doctor for insemination? Anything was possible. "Would these children be created from our union?"

  He leaned close and she got a hint of almond and testosterone. "Union is a nice way of talking about sex."

  She blinked, her body warming as she imagined them in bed. "Sex is important."

  As if he hadn’t expected her to agree, he sat back—breaking the spell. "Yes it is, and yes, it would be included in the contract." He then pointed to the paper in her hand. "Attraction is not love. I want that made clear. This will not be a love match."

  Secretary, wife, or go back to her desk job where nothing ever happened. Kristin tucked the strand of her French twist that had fallen out of the clip behind her ear. "How many other women have you offered this to?"

  He pulled out another piece of paper from the folder. "I put the ad for a secretary out world-wide. Then I had all-inclusive background checks done on every applicant. You are my first and only choice at the moment."

  She was the only? Seriously? She wasn't royal; her parents had been farmers. She had no family. She didn't know anyone important who could help him in society.

  Kristin realized that made her perfect for a serial killer to stalk, not a prince to marry. "Why?"

  He studied her paperwork. "Because, Kristin, you’re smart, you have no family to tie you down, your only trusted friend is your roommate, Renee.
You’re in debt for over $100,000 in student loans, you owe $15,000 for your car and $200,000 for your condo. My offer means you can pay these off in less than three years without racking up more debt and since you’ve worked from the age of eight years old for your father in the stables, you understand a job is a job."

  It really did come down to dollars and cents. He’d read her application and her problems in life like a spreadsheet. She adjusted her eyeglasses and focused on him. "So, I could have been anyone?"

  He raised two fingers on his right hand as a “no” gesture. "You are also attractive. That was a requirement for me."

  Reconstructive surgery in the contract should have given that away her brain shouted, but her heart whispered that she was overly cynical and that the man adored on multiple continents for his charm and good looks thought she was pretty. She was sure she blushed. "Two things."

  He leaned forward and put his hands together. "What?"

  Her fingers trembled as she picked up the contract from the desk. "I'll need twenty-four hours to decide."

  "Fair enough. And two?"

  This one was for her silly heart. She had to know, if they were going to share a bed, a life, the truth. If there was nothing, no spark, she couldn’t go through with it. She stood and Antonio stood with her. The contract fell onto her chair, but her hands shook too much to even try to pick it up. She pushed her hair out of her face and then said, "I'll need you to kiss me now. If I don’t feel anything then this will never work."

  The guttural sound he made from his throat told her he approved and he wrapped his hands around her waist. Her body felt warm as butter melting on a summer day. Her eyelids fluttered as she waited for his touch. He said, "We're clear that our union is business and not love?"

  She opened her eyes and met his. She had always sworn she could take care of herself and wouldn’t marry someone she couldn’t respect enough to talk to everyday. Love wasn’t a factor. "Abundantly."

  Closing her eyes again, she felt his lips inches from her mouth. "Then here..."

  His kiss set her heart soaring. She held onto his shoulders to stay steady, but her foot lifted off the ground as if she might float away. His lips crushed hers in a soul-searching sweep of passion and she joined him in some place that must be heaven itself. No boy had ever come close to that kiss.

  Once his lips left hers, Kristin used the desk behind her to hold herself upright.

  If she left, she’d never have another kiss like that. If she stayed, she couldn’t honor her parents’ wishes that she marry someone who shared their manual labor, hard-working values. But they had been so unhappy. If she said yes, she might experience more of whatever had just sparked between her and Prince Antonio—she was sure her parents had never felt anything like that for each other.

  Antonio read his watch. "See you tomorrow at 5 PM? Meet me here with your answer." He took his file and walked toward the door they’d come in and opened it for her.

  "I’ll be here, Your Highness."

  Princes of Avce

  Forbidden Crown

  Forbidden Prince

  Forbidden Royal

  Forbidden Duke

  Forbidden Earl

  Forbidden Monsieur

  Forbidden Prince Preview

  Renee Brown ordered a pepperoni pizza on her phone app, her attention snagged by the brilliant orange and red hues outside the kitchen window and over the parking lot. Where was Kristin? Her roommate was late, and Renee wanted to hear all about the sexy prince and Kristin’s job interview.

  If Kristin landed the secretarial position, Renee would be one step closer to meeting actual royalty. Would the pictures of Marco Aussa, the youngest prince of Avce, turn out to be tricks of the light? There was no possible way a man that handsome existed. And a prince!

  Renee taught history for a living—and never had her blood stirred at a photo in a book as it had perusing Marco Aussa online.

  With one last look out at the parking lot, still no Kristin, Renee went to the kitchen and gathered lettuce, spinach, cucumbers, and tomatoes. If she met a prince on her summer vacation from work, she'd have the best story to share with her coworkers.

  She glanced out the window again and saw her neighbor, Greg, working on his car. He was the kind of guy she could bring home to meet her brother and parents. Good-looking, an accountant with a decent job—better than average pay but nothing flashy—handy around the building, and polite. If he asked her out, she'd have said yes simply because he was everything she’d put on her list. He wasn't the kind her parents would dismiss. However, he never noticed her, so that wasn't going to happen.

  The salad needed something else…Renee found some celery behind a tub of cottage cheese and chopped it in thin slices.

  The lock to the apartment clicked. Renee looked up from salad making and greeted her best friend in the world, the dark-haired and fabulous Kristin. "Where were you? I already ordered the pizza."

  Kristin put her pocketbook on the lamp table by the door and kicked off the black heels she’d borrowed from Renee, then joined her at the counter. "You know I had my job interview with the Royal Prince Antonio Aussa from Avce this afternoon."

  Renee studied Kristin, who wouldn’t meet her eye. Had she gotten the job? Renee's pulse zipped to find out if she'd get a shot at seeing the youngest playboy prince in person. She put the salad tongs down. "That was at three. You're late."

  Kristin went to the refrigerator and took out the orange juice, pouring a small glass. "I was driving around aimlessly."

  Yes, something important must’ve happened—Kristin always had a plan. Renee’s chances of meeting Marco were about as good as winning the Powerball but she wanted to know. She picked up the salad tongs and tossed the vegetables in a blue plastic bowl to mix the ingredients. "Why? Did you get the position?"

  Kristin put the juice on the counter and hugged her waist. Oh, no. Renee turned toward her friend. What if she’d been driving because she was upset about not getting the job?

  A few weeks ago, when Kristin had first applied, they’d joked about marrying two of the prince brothers. Kristin's white face made Renee's memory seem sad now. "I’m…" sorry.

  Finally, Kristin looked up with a dazed expression. "He asked me to marry him."

  No way. Was she kidding? Her heart beat faster. Renee dropped the salad tongs on top of the romaine. "Shut the door."

  Kristin turned her head toward the front door. "I did."

  "Slang. You have got to enter the 21st century." Renee reached out and took her hand. Joking aside, her only big plans this summer were book-related as she prepped to teach her history class and she could do that anywhere. Now she had a reason to buy a plane ticket and go to Europe. "When do you start? Will it be in Europe?"

  Kristin seemed confused.

  Renee slowly realized that she wasn’t joking. "Seriously? He asked you to marry him?" Crazy.

  "Yes." Kristin's gaze lowered. "And I’m tempted to agree."

  Renee's heart hammered. "I saw your application for secretary...did he take one look at you and fall in love?"

  Kristin shook her head. "Not love. That doesn't happen and never lasts anyhow."

  "Well, nothing is ever a sure thing." She’d thought her ex, Tom, had been solid but he’d left her high and dry, something her family never let her forget.

  As if reading her mind, Kristin said, "To be fair to your parents, I never liked Tom. He always seemed like he was up to something." "Don’t agree with them on anything." Renee gave Kristin a warning look.

  One day a man like Greg would ask Renee to marry him and she'd bring him home. This time, she'd make the smart choice and her family would be excited to see her get married in their country club. But Kristin didn't have any of that responsibility. She was free and now she could marry a prince, for real.

  "Your break-up with Tom is another reason why I think love is a sick joke we play on children and teenagers. It’s a lie bigger than Santa Claus."

  Her friend might not
believe in love, but she deserved a fairy tale.

  "That's cynical and untrue—love can last a lifetime." Renee squeezed Kristin’s hands. Her parents claimed to love each other, so at least Renee had a basis for understanding. "So what did you say?"

  Kristin stepped back but kept her head down. "I told him that I needed time to think. Part of me was so mesmerized by him that I almost said yes, but my parents warned me all my life that work and security would bring me happiness more than romance. Marrying a prince I just met isn't exactly practical."

  Renee laughed. Seriously, work was nice, but it was family that made every day worthwhile. One day she'd have her own, but first she needed to find the right guy. She nudged her best friend. "If a prince with billions of dollars knocked on my door and asked me to marry him, I'd say yes."

  "Tell me that’s not why you said yes to Tom."

  "Tom was nice. I don’t know what happened." Renee's phone beeped. The text read that the pizza would be there in fifteen minutes.

  "So you say I should say yes," Kristin perched on the kitchen stool next to the island and drank her juice. "Just like that?"

  "Absolutely." Renee finished with the salad and kept the rest of her comments to herself. In reality, a prince would never be approved by her parents, who had strict ideas for happiness. Not a big deal since she wasn’t the one who’d been asked.

  With a sigh Kristin stood, left her phone on the counter in the kitchen and went to the cabinet to get cups and plates. "No. No, you wouldn't. You'd see through the BS, and wonder if there were any cameras taping you."

  True. Renee walked out of the kitchen and put the salad bowl in the middle of the dining room table. "Oh, were you bamboozled in some awful prank I'll get to see on TV?"

  "No." Kristin followed her out with the plates, centering each on a placemat. "He asked me, for real. I just feel like I was being played, like maybe I'm missing something."