The Prince's Runaway Lover (Men of the Zodiac)

by Robin Covington

  “Thank you all for coming today. As you know, we have several thousand refugees here in Callanos who need our assistance. Some will want to stay here and become citizens of this wonderful country. Others will want to leave and fulfill their dreams of a happy future. No matter where they want to settle, they need help now and Callanos is going to give it to them.”

  He stepped from behind the podium; he knew what he wanted to say.

  “The day before yesterday I went to the camp and I got to spend time with some of the people there, the workers, the children. Good work is being accomplished there by wonderful people but more can be done with our help.”

  He moved closer to the crowd, making eye contact with key reporters and parliament members. Some of them were on the verge of following his lead and others were simply looking for a reason and he was going to give them one.

  “I’m not talking about throwing money at a problem. Change like this requires human interaction, expertise in key areas. You have all received a copy of my plan of action and I’m here to announce that I have personally selected several members of my council and parliament to sit on this committee and they will execute my plan by working with the relief organizations already on site.”

  Nick made his way over to one person in particular, glad that he’d taken the front row seat.

  He extended his hand out, biting back his grin when the man had no choice but to take it and stand.

  “I’m asking my good friend, the Duke of Rushing, to head this committee. I know that through his excellent leadership all of the tasking will be completed on my timeline.”

  It was a sneaky move and not at all diplomatic but it was effective and that was what he needed it to be. The man of the moment shook his hand and nodded in acceptance, the only indication he knew he’d been played in the flash of his eyes as he gave one last squeeze to Nick’s hand. He sank into his seat and Nick moved back to the podium.

  “I have time for some questions.”

  The usual ones followed about his plans, the people appointed to the committee, but he didn’t have long to wait for the million-dollar question.

  “Your Royal Highness, who was the woman who took you to the refugee camp?”

  He smiled. “She’s a friend and a volunteer at the refugee camp.”

  “You two appear close and you refuse to release her identity. Are you involved with her?”

  “Like I said, she’s a friend. She has asked not to be identified and because she is a friend, I am respecting her wishes.” He gave them all one last smile and ended the conference. “Thank you for coming today.”

  They all rose to their feet, shouting questions at his back as he exited the throne room and made his way through the blue drawing room and headed toward his private office and Isabel. His mother emerged from the direction of the private wing, approaching him with purpose. He stopped in front of her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and waiting for her feedback on what he’d just done.

  “Nicholas, are you determined to go through with this plan?”

  “If I’m not, I just wasted a lot of people’s time.”

  She stared at him, her lips pursed in a tight line that told him exactly what she thought of his plan.

  “You suggested that I use my diplomacy skills and bring everyone together for a common goal. My plan even includes Rushing in a key role.” He motioned for her to follow him, anxious to get to Isabel and see what she thought of his press conference and to give her a surprise.

  “Forcing something down their throats is not diplomacy, Nicholas.”

  “Sometimes that’s exactly what it has to be to get things started.”

  His mother walked beside him, her hands twisted in front of her in a rare show of distress. He hated that his actions were stressing her out, but it was the way of things between them. They were much alike, he got his stubborn streak from her German ancestors and it had served him well in his life.

  “Mother, I realize I am not doing things the way Father or Alec would have done them, but I am convinced that this is the path that Callanos should take on this issue. We cannot sit on this hill of wealth and luxury and fail to help those who are in desperate need. We have not made our way on the backs of others and I don’t think this is the time to begin.”

  “There are organizations that take care to these things.”

  “That does not mean that we should not help where we can.” He stopped in front of the closed door of his private office and turned to the woman beside him, reaching out to tug her close to him in a hug. She paused at the contact and then wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tight. “Trust me. If I am going to do this, I must do it the way my conscience dictates if I am to be successful.”

  She stepped back, looking up at him and reaching up to stroke his hair from his face. He hunched over to give her better access since she was not a tall woman and she smiled at his gallantry, a laugh escaping her lips.

  “I like hearing you laugh,” he said. “We haven’t had much to laugh about in the last few months.”

  “It gets easier with time.” She paused, considering her words. “It is good to have you home, Nicholas. I missed you when you were off winning your races and climbing mountains.”

  “I know it wasn’t what you wanted for me.”

  She lowered her hand to his tie, looking at it while she gave it a quick adjustment. “You made your father and me very proud. I was worried to the point of sickness every time you dove in the ocean or climbed a mountain with no safety net but I am so proud of what you accomplished. You should be as well.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” he said as he leaned in to place another kiss on her cheek. He reached behind him and opened the door, expecting the skip of his heartbeat when he saw Isabel standing by the window in a yellow sundress and flat sandals. “You wore your hair down.”

  “I understand you like it down.” She turned, the sexy smile on her lips vanishing when she caught sight of his mother standing next to him. She dropped into a curtsy. “Oh. Good morning, Your Royal Highness.”

  “Hey, you’re getting better at that,” he said as he walked over to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She pushed him away, giving him a look that could start the new ice age and all he could do was laugh at her. “Mother, you remember Isabel Reynolds.”

  “I do. It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Reynolds.” His mother moved farther into the room, her smile only half fake so he relaxed a little bit. They had a fifty percent chance that she wouldn’t make this awkward. “You didn’t want to watch the press conference in the throne room?”

  “I’m not interested in being a headline.” Isabel’s words were polite, but there was an edge to her voice that was a warning. “Prince Nicholas has enough on his plate without having to address the media frenzy the speculation would cause.”

  His mother paused, a brief bit of silence before she spoke. “I appreciate your discretion, especially since you will not be with us for long.”

  Nick resisted the urge to groan at his mother’s less-than-subtle reminder that Isabel moving on would better suit her plans for him. Their disagreement on that point was not going to be solved today and not in front of Isabel.

  “If you will excuse us, Mother, I’m going to show Isabel around the palace.”

  The air in the room was crackling with the tension between the women in his life until his mother broke the stalemate.

  “That’s wonderful.” She didn’t think it was wonderful but she smiled and extended her hand to Isabel and smiled as she left. “I will see you later this evening, Nicholas.”

  “I’m taking an overnight trip. I will see you tomorrow.” She opened her mouth to ask where he was going but he nudged her out the door with a meaningful glance tossed in Isabel’s direction. His mother’s eyebrows shot up at that piece of news and he knew he’d get the third degree later but it wasn’t happening now. “Good-bye.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief when the door closed behind her and turned to fin
d Isabel watching him with an exasperated expression on her face. Nick walked over to her, then cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She resisted at first, stiff against him, but he coaxed her response with nips of his teeth, soft swipes of his tongue along the seam of her lips. When she finally gave in and opened to him, it was the sweetest reward he’d ever earned.

  “They can take my medals and the cover of the Wheaties box,” he said, pressing a last lingering kiss on the dimple to the right of her full lips. “That was so much better.”

  “You’re being charming again,” she said, her smile bursting through in spite of her obvious attempt to stay disgruntled with him. “Do they teach that in prince pre-school?”

  “It’s actually a genetic thing. All of the delivery room nurses were wrapped around my finger.”

  “You’re an ass.” She swatted at his chest and started to walk away, but he pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  “As long as I’m your ass,” he said, switching gears when she stiffened at his words. Isabel was not going to respond well to any attempt on his part to keep her around for any period of time. He’d read the memo but he had a hard time agreeing to live by the terms with her. If he had any chance to keep her here, he needed to play it a whole lot cooler. “Temporarily your ass. Is that better?”

  She nodded. “Better.”

  “My flight leaves in an hour and a half so let’s get this tour underway.”

  Isabel followed along, slipping her hand out of his when they left his office. Nick bit back a pang of regret but he knew she was right. The palace had ears, eyes, and the biggest mouth in the Mediterranean. The private tour would raise eyebrows but doing it hand in hand would guarantee him a spot on the front banner of TMZ.

  “Will you be gone long?” she asked as they entered the public wing of the palace.

  “Are you going to miss me?”

  “Not if you keep answering my questions with a question.”

  “Are you always this grumpy after several orgasms?” She slid eyes wide with shock in his direction and he bit back a laugh. “Because if I have to step up my game, just say the word and I’ll get right on that self-improvement plan.”

  She bit back her giggle by biting her lower lip between her teeth and punctuated her disgust with an eye roll.

  “You are a ridiculous man.”

  “You are absolutely correct.” He put his hand on the doorknobs of the ornate double doors and pushed them open to reveal a room full of glittering gems, crowns, scepters and assorted gem-covered items in glass cases all around the room. “I hope having my own jewelry store might make up for it.”

  Isabel gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. He would never forget the look of pure delight on her face, no trace of her troubles and none of the secrets. She took a couple of steps into the room, lowered her hands, and cut him a look that made his dick hard and his heart race.

  “Can I try some of them on?”

  He grinned. “I think that can be arranged.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  She completely understood why her grandmother had never missed an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.

  Isabel gaped at yet another ceiling covered in paintings, gilt-covered mirrors, priceless murals and works of art, and antiques worth more than her condo back in Oklahoma. She was grateful for Nicky’s hand at her back, guiding her around furniture and over rugs made of exquisite silk as she struggled to take it all in. She finally stopped him in a hallway outside of the second-grand-ballroom-and-substitute-throne-room or whatever it was called, almost dizzy with the amazing things she’d seen.

  “Nicky, do you know how lucky you were to grow up here?” she asked.

  “I do. Yes.” He looked around the room, his voice appreciative and content. When he looked at her, his expression was filled with the pleasant memories he’d spent the last hour telling her. “Even though I had to go and do my own thing, I always knew I had a place to come back to where I would be surrounded by my family’s history and their love. I know how fortunate I am.” He looked at her. “What was your childhood like?”

  “Average.” She closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to miss her parents and home for a couple of seconds before pushing it away. She was glad they hadn’t seen what her life had become. “My dad was a mechanic and my mom was a school bus driver. We were poor but I was loved and they worked their asses off to make sure Irene and I both had the best opportunities.”

  “The American dream.”

  “Yes.” She nodded in agreement. “My parents emigrated from Colombia and they made sure we never took our life in the United States for granted. Going to college was never a question, it was expected.”

  “Are they still alive?”

  The prickle of moisture in her eyes was expected and she didn’t hide her movement to brush them away. “They were both killed in a car accident five years ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Nick moved in and enveloped her in his arms, his kiss soft against her temple. “I’m sure they were proud of you. It’s such a cliché thing to say, but I’m sure they admired the strong woman you’ve become.”

  Isabel wished she could say it was true. They lived long enough to see her marry Adam and suspect that things had gone terribly wrong. If anything, their death had spared them watching it happen and she was glad for their sake. When she didn’t answer, Nicky interpreted her silence as something else.

  “I’m sure they were proud. It can be difficult to live up to others’ expectations.” He stroked his large hands up and down her back. “Believe me. I know how that can be.”

  She struggled with how to phrase her question, to perfectly communicate what she was feeling on his behalf.

  “How do you stand it? The burden… No that’s not the right word…” She bit her lip to parse it out. “How do you carry the responsibility of it? You make it look so easy.”

  “Come with me,” he said, taking her hand in his and she left it where it was. It might be risky but they hadn’t seen anyone except for the royal guards and she wanted his touch, needed it. Nicky was under her skin and burrowing deeper with each second she passed in his company. That was why it was so dumb to stay but she couldn’t leave. Not yet.

  He led her down a long hallway and turned left and the area nearly doubled in width. The ceiling soared high above them both and sunshine streamed in crystalline windows and highlighted the pale cream walls and gilt trim. Portraits of men, women, and children dressed in costumes from every period of time she could remember from her history classes hung on the walls.

  Nicky released her hand and turned to face her, walking backward down the hallway like a tour guide. He extended his arms wide, as if he was embracing the entire room.

  “This is my family. Every Lytton since the caveman could scratch out a picture on a rock wall is here just daring me to fuck this up.”

  He pointed to a man in a powdered wig. “Leopold the Second lost his throne in a card game and had to wage a war to get it back.”

  “King Albert had six wives and we suspect maybe one or two at the same time.” He gestured to a portrait up high on the wall. “A couple of them went to nunneries and he thought they were dead. Communication was not great back then.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “No.” He shook his head and walked over to a huge painting of a man with blond hair and a dark-haired woman next to him. They were covered in jewels and furs and had about a million dogs sitting at their feet. “King Stefan and Queen Amelia had so many dogs that they employed two people full-time just to clean up after the royal beasts.” He laid his hand on the painting for a moment, admiration tempering the humor in his eyes. “He ensured that even our small country did what they could to save the world from Nazi Germany, including losing two of his sons in the war.”

  Nicky extended his hand to her and she went to him, letting him thread their fingers together as he led her down the hallway.

  “W
hen I was a kid I had to learn everything there was to know about all of these people. I had a tutor who said the key to being a good king was not only to emulate what good kings have done in the past but to learn what things define a bad monarch and avoid doing them.”

  He stopped in front of a group of portraits she recognized: his parents, his brother and sister-in-law, and one of himself.

  “You asked how I stand the responsibility, the weight of it?”

  She nodded when he looked down at her.

  “I’m not concerned with what my relatives did decades ago, but I will not let these people down. I stand it because I have to.”

  His father and mother, King William and Queen Beatrice, were regal in their coronation robes. While Nicky had his mother’s light coloring he got his height and broad-shouldered build from his father. A beautiful couple, you could sense their devotion to each other by the way their hands were linked together. They were a team.

  The portrait of his brother was similar in style and pose. Alec and his wife were dressed in the same formal wear but their broad smiles hinted at a younger, more modern couple who enjoyed each other immensely. Nicky was more casual in his portrait. Seated outside on one of the craggy cliffs overlooking the sea with the palace in the background, he was the epitome of the prince with wanderlust. His hair was tousled from the breeze, his entire body poised to take off at a run at any moment.

  Isabel looked at Nicky, intending to ask about his portrait, but the expression on his face stopped her. Melancholy etched his features with his grief and she reached out and took his hand in hers. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t know what to say anyway.

  “Fuck, I miss them both, so much,” he whispered, his voice thick and wet with his emotion. “My father…he’s as gone as Alec and…”

  Nicky turned and looked at her, his eyes pleading with her to understand what he could not or would not say out loud. She got it. Some things were too hard to say and if you did there was always the fear that you’d give them weight if you put them into the universe.