“Both.” He was surprised at the truth and rapidity of his response. “She talked to me like I was a regular guy. She even gave me an eye roll when I said dumb shit.”
“And the fact that she has all the earmarks of a runner? And I’m not referring to the exercise,” Chris said, referring back to the conversation with the head gardener. “You’ve always been a guy who can’t resist a challenge.”
“Paul wasn’t wrong. She has the aura of someone who is hiding something.” He thought back to their talk on the steps. “We were talking like old friends and then I asked her questions about her personal life and she froze like a deer in headlights and I could see the effort it took for her to school her features into a mask that was nothing like the natural smile she’d worn moments before. She’s hiding something.”
“You don’t need a woman with secrets in your life.”
“I don’t need a woman, period.” He wouldn’t mind getting laid but he didn’t need the complication of anything resembling a relationship right now, especially not with an American who spooked when you asked the name of her hometown. “But I really don’t need a woman with secrets in my life.”
He was at a crucial point. The path he chose would determine if he would rule. He’d never done anything more important in his life.
“Well, then you don’t need this anymore,” Chris said as he reached for the file on the desk. He closed the folder and covered up Isabel’s bright smile in her employee ID photo. It was instinct, a reflex for Nick to reach over and snag it out of his hand, open the drawer and deposit the file back to where he’d retrieved it a few moments earlier. “Or maybe you do.”
“Don’t” They’d been friends for too long for the “I am your prince” tone to work on him as evidenced by the flick of his middle finger in his direction.
“Nick, I know this has been hard on you and that everything that’s gone down since Alec died has crimped your style. But you’ve risen to the challenge every single time.” He paused to see if Nick had any counterpoint but he waved him on, curious to see what his best friend had to say. “This woman…she intrigues you and you’re going to turn on the charm and flash the baby blues, the eight million dollar car and the yacht and she’ll come running like they always do. We both know it.”
“No she won’t.” He didn’t know how he knew this but Isabel would not be a woman who would be in it to grab whatever she could get out of him while they were together as insurance against the time when they weren’t. He was lavish with his gifts during his liaisons and at the end, a fact that was commonly known, but he had a feeling that none of that would win over Isabel.
“Well, then that’s worse because she might be the kind of woman you need in your life.”
“How is that worse?” he asked but he knew before his friend elaborated. It was like he just needed to hear it spoken out loud to sink into his thick skull.
“Unless she’s the long-lost princess of that unknown island of eligible women suitable for the King of Callanos there is no way parliament or your mother is going to approve of Isabel Reynolds and you will hand Rushing a way to oust you from the throne on a silver platter. You might as well FedEx him the crown right now.”
He was right, 100 percent accurate in everything he said, but Nick couldn’t get on board with the conclusion.
“I’ve made it clear that I’m open to meeting women who would be suitable as a queen and I’ve given up my usual supply of bed partners. The country has been through too much for me to jeopardize the stability of my coronation.”
“So you’re going to play around with the help?” Chris shook his head. “I know you can love them and leave them with the best in the business but that would be sinking to an all-time low.”
“Of course not,” he said, the characterization of his interest in Isabel irritating deep down and making him uneasy with how sharp a jab it was. “I may have jumped from woman to woman but I’ve never shown them disrespect or treated them poorly.” He shrugged as he sat down in his chair, the irritation from this conversation weighing heavy on his shoulders. “I understand the delicacy and the impossibility of anything developing between Isabel and myself. I’m not even sure why we’re having this conversation.”
“Because this woman intrigues you and she’d be the first one to do so in a long time. I know the restrictions you’ve placed on yourself since taking over.” He clicked them off on his fingers. “No races. No climbing. No brash decisions. No indiscreet women. If you are even thinking about loosening your death grip on one of them because of Isabel, then I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t point out what a bad idea this might be.”
It was a bad idea. To get involved with a woman so obviously inappropriate would give his political enemies leverage he could ill afford. To have an affair under the roof of the palace would risk ruining whatever goodwill he’d cultivated with his allies and his people. And all of this was a factor before he even got to the part where he had no idea who Isabel was and whether she could be trusted.
He wanted her, wanted to peel off her cut-offs and let down her hair and bury himself inside her for hours. He wanted to make her laugh like she had on the stoop and feel the way her small hand fit inside his own. He wanted to explore this sudden and mesmerizing interest he had in her. He wanted to know why simple questions made her skin turn cold with her own fear.
Yes, this was the Godzilla bad idea that destroyed Tokyo. It was every mountain he’d tackled on a free climb and every triathlon he’d attempted when the weather and terrain sent saner men and women home. It was every time someone had told him that he’d fail. Sometimes he washed out but sometimes…sometimes he won the medal.
Isabel was the first thing he’d wanted in a long time and the part of him where the old Nick lived was getting ready for the race, waiting at the starting line. It was crazy. It was ill-timed.
It could cost him the throne.
Chapter Five
“I didn’t realize you’d met the crown prince,” Paul said as he joined her in the flowerbed.
Isabel looked up from where she was inspecting the stability of the stacked stone wall surrounding the area that would shelter the wild orchids from inquisitive fingers and errant feet. They were fairly hardy plants, but constant fondling by visitors would kill them quickly.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“I just came from meeting with the crown prince and he told me you two were running buddies.” The older man added his leverage to a stone she was maneuvering back in place. Conversation stopped for the few moments it took to complete the task.
“He runs. I run. His guards don’t shoot me when I occasionally beat him up the incline.”
She leaned over and grabbed her tools and threw them in the wheelbarrow, shielding her face from Paul’s view. Isabel did not want him to see her reaction to the news that she’d been the topic of discussion. She’d debated punting the run the morning after her visit from the playboy prince but she’d known he would come looking for her. And she needed to draw as little attention to herself as possible. So, she’d shown up and tried to ignore the way she was breathless even before they’d really gotten up to speed.
“He was rather impressed with your changes to the garden.” Paul reached down and stilled her movement with a touch to her shoulder. “And he was interested in the woman behind the designs.”
That stopped her, the mixture of excitement and apprehension causing her skin to tighten like she’d been out in the sun too long with no cover-up. She took a breath and then another before lifting her gaze to meet Paul’s bottle-green gaze.
“I don’t understand.”
“I wish that was true but the flush of red on your cheeks tells me otherwise.” The older man was quiet, wise, straightforward and kind. She knew he would not stop until he said what he thought he should say to guide her. An eternal bachelor and childless, Isabel had often thought he would have made an excellent father. “I have known His Royal Highness since
he was a young boy. He will be a fine king once he finds his way, but he is also direct and goes for what he wants. That includes medals, adrenaline thrills, and women. This challenge to his throne is exactly what he needs to get him out of the stupor since the death of the late king.”
“I’m not looking to get involved with a prince.”
“I’m not looking for a promise and you don’t owe me one, but you wouldn’t be the first woman to be dazzled by the crown and the palace.”
“I’m not dazzled by all of that.” And she wasn’t. The palace and the cars and the money were a fun diversion but she was in it for the real from now on. Whatever slice of real she could get with the life she had to live if it was going to be anywhere but behind bars.
Paul cocked his head at her and once again she thought he looked like the sleepy dog currently lying in the shade, only feet from his master at any given moment.
“I knew that about you the first time we met. Besides the high recommendation from my friend Inger, your utter disinterest in the trappings of royalty was refreshing. It was one of the top reasons I hired you.”
She’d been the kind of girl who’d chased money and prestige once and it had ended poorly, with her life in tatters, scars on her body, and a bounty on her head. She’d been a normal, poor girl in the backwoods of Oklahoma longing for a prince charming to come and sweep her away. He’d come and she’d been dazzled almost to the point of being six feet under the ground. And while she didn’t think for a moment that Nick—Crown Prince Nicholas—would treat her that way, there was no future she could imagine where getting involved with him made any sense.
And that didn’t even contemplate the impossibility of any woman with her background becoming queen. That only happened in romance novels and fairy tales.
Paul continued. “You have a solidity about you that makes you comfortable in your own skin, a quiet strength that I know was hard-earned during whatever went on in your life.” He leaned on the shovel in his hand and sighed, shaking his head as if to silently communicate the trouble he knew was coming. “You are exactly the kind of woman that’s going to attract Nicholas. He was destined to go off and tackle mountains and the sea, to dare the weather or his body to stop him from doing whatever he decided to do. He has nothing in common with these title-hungry women who can’t tell the difference between power and strength, but I think you understand that distinction.”
She blinked at him, surprised and not surprised that he knew her so well. Isabel had known that Paul was observant, a man who could dissect anyone within moments, but he was also a man who kept his own counsel. The fact that he was laying this all out there was astonishing.
“I do know the difference.” She nodded. “Very well.”
“Nicholas is strong. He is determined and he is persuasive when he wants something and I think he wants you. He’s fighting it and he needs to consider his current battle, though that doesn’t change the truth.”
“I don’t—” She began to deny it but she shut her mouth and dropped her gaze, looking for a better response in the rich, dark soil at her feet. There was something between them and she knew when a man was interested in her, or interested enough to become very interested if given any encouragement. Nick was right there and she had a feeling that he wouldn’t wait for a signal from her to pursue it. But the worst part was that she wanted to give him the signal. She was attracted to him after a spell so dry that she thought her lady parts had vacated the premises. “I’m not staying. I’m not…”
He waved her off. “I’m not looking for an answer to something that is really none of my business. I wanted to tell you to be careful. Anything with the crown prince is going to get complicated no matter how brief it is. His enemies are waiting for the right scandal to get him out of the way.”
The older man pushed the shovel into her hands and turned to head back to the offices for the royal gardens, his old dog following behind at a loping pace. Isabel stared down at the garden utensil, her mind whirring with everything he’d said and left unsaid. A loud alarm in the back of her head was screaming for her to pack her things and move on to the next location far away from Callanos and the tempting Prince Nicholas. Paul was correct. Anything with him had the potential for complications, for attention. She could afford neither in her position.
One wrong photo, one wrong person who connected dots, and she’d be sitting in a jail cell and not standing here under the gorgeous sun and blue sky. But she couldn’t leave and run into the night. To do that would mean no referral and that limited her job prospects considerably if she wanted to continue in her field—which she did. Her mistakes had robbed her of so much and that made her cling to the things she had left.
She placed the shovel in the wheelbarrow and dropped to one knee in the flowerbed, using her fingers to check the water saturation level of this bed of orchids. They were her favorite flower and coaxing them into full glory cleared her head faster than anything else.
She couldn’t run. It was a move born from panic and fear and she refused to live that way. Running with no plan would get her caught. Patience. Discretion. Planning. Those were the hallmarks of her life now.
Isabel inhaled the scents of blooms and rich soil and steadied her nerves. She’d figure out a way to avoid Nick, or at least keep whatever this was from progressing to anything more than runs as the sun rose over the palace walls.
“Those are my mother’s favorite flowers.”
Isabel stilled as the deep voice washed over her skin like the late afternoon breeze. Steeling herself against the flip-flop her belly took, she brushed off her dirty hands and began the rise to her feet to greet her royal visitor.
“Don’t stop what you’re doing,” he said, his brows bunched together as he gestured for her to remain as she was.
“Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness.” She attempted the best curtsy she could in a T-shirt, jeans, and work boots and glanced around to see if they had an audience. She could hear voices from the water garden area but saw no one in the general vicinity. “As we discussed, I’d like to keep this job.”
“I also thought we established that you ultimately work for me.” He frowned, stepping closer to her until he could lower his voice so that only she could hear. “I wouldn’t let you get fired, Isabel.”
“It isn’t appropriate.” She looked around again, noting that the voices were getting closer. “Sir…”
“Nick.”
Isabel looked at him, the sharp exhale of frustration escaping her lips. “I’m in an untenable position here. Please don’t.”
“What happened? I was Nick two nights ago and you seemed fine at our run this morning. Did I do something? I thought we were…” He paused and glanced around the garden as if the words he was searching for were in the exotic palms. When he looked back to her, the flash of sky blue in his eyes was edged with a darker navy. It was sexy, the color of his passion caused by anger, frustration or something more fun. “Did someone say something to you?”
“A friend reminded me this was a bad idea.”
“This?”
“Our friendship. It isn’t a good idea for either of us.” She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry due to the adrenaline running through her system. This man got her going and she wasn’t sure if the reaction was because he was so close or because she didn’t want to find out if he would agree with her and leave her alone. “It wouldn’t help your cause if we were found to be friends.”
“No one gives a damn who I’m friends with,” he said as he edged closer. His body cast a shadow and shielded her from the heat of the day. The only thing that gave away his emotion was the flash of his eyes and the tick of muscle in his cheek. “That’s not what we’re talking about.”
“It isn’t?” She wanted to bite her tongue for asking the question. Too late she realized that it led to a conversation that wasn’t going to make this any easier. But she couldn’t deny the thrill that raced through her at his words.
“No.” He mov
ed closer and leaned down, his breath warm where it teased the loose strands of hair that escaped her ponytail. “People only give a damn when I’m interested in a woman beyond mere friendship, and that is why they would give a damn about you, Isabel, because I am interested in you far beyond the boundaries of friendship.”
Her breathing was ragged as she processed what he’d said. People did not do that. They hedged and beat around bush and avoided direct communication, didn’t they?
“Take a breath, Isabel,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he lifted a finger and barely touched the edge of her jaw. She gasped at the contact and the fire that raced under her skin and followed the path of his fingertip as he traced a line to the edge of her hairline where he stopped and tucked an errant strand back into the waves she tried to contain with the elastic band.
His eyes traveled down from where his fingers still lingered against her skin, down to her mouth. He was going to kiss her and she licked her lips in an invitation her brain didn’t want to make but her body was dying to send.
“Your Royal—”
“Take a breath and call me Nick.”
He leaned in closer and the breeze caught his clean, masculine scent and wrapped it around her. Isabel’s nipples tightened under her shirt, the core of her spiking with heat that she never thought she’d feel again. She wanted him, desired his touch, his kiss. It was something she could not have but that made no difference to her body. It was chemistry and they had it.
She stared at him, unsure about how to make her point with him touching her. Isabel took a breath and stepped back enough to give herself some room to think.
“I’m not staying.”
“I understand that is a possibility.”
“I’m really not staying.”
He shrugged, the upward tilt of his mouth moving into a half grin doing nothing to reduce the hungry gleam in his eyes. “I think we should table that topic for later.”
Of course he did. She recalled what Paul had said about Nick liking a challenge. She couldn’t give him something to chase. She had to send a clear message that this was going nowhere.
The Prince's Runaway Lover (Men of the Zodiac) Page 5