by Tara Wylde
“That’s a lot of supposedlys…” The prince’s voice is softer than before.
I glance over my shoulder, only to discover that he moved while I spoke, and is now angled so that he can see my profile. I can’t read his expression, but there’s a bright, puzzled light in his eyes that makes me uncomfortable.
I hold his gaze for a split second before turning back to the glass sculptures. A shiver passes through me
“There’s very little proof some of Lunn’s figurines, including the pair of horses he presented to Wilberforce, actually exist.” This time my gaze finds the Queen. She’s staring at her son, her brow furrowed in thought. I can’t tell if she’s heard anything I’ve said or if she even cares.
“I’ve only encountered three verified Lunn figurines and seen photos, mostly grainy, of some of his other pieces. I’ll need to verify that these are genuine pieces.”
“Of course,” the queen responds, her eyes remain glued to her son’s face.
I bite my lip. “It can take a great deal of time.”
This is always the tricky part. So Tessa tells me, anyway. The only experience I have in negotiating is half an hour role playing with my dog sick best friend.
Verifying items, especially ones as rare as Lunn’s is costly. I can do the work, I can’t afford to foot the bill myself, something most clients fail to understand.
“How much time,” Eileen asks. Her phone is back in her hand, ready to make notes.
“How much will it cost,” Lucas asks. He tucks his hands into his pockets and studies me. The light in his eyes is so bright, so intense, I have to look away.
“Both the length of time and cost of the verification depend on a number of factors, but based on the number of items in this room, a basic appraisal may take a few weeks.”
A few weeks here. In the same building with a prince who I both hate and lust after. Oh boy!
“And I can’t provide a true estimate until I have the opportunity to examine each piece and determine how difficult the appraisal process will be.”
Lucas frowns and looks ready to say something, but Lynette lays a hand on his arm.
“And then what?”
“Just to be clear, Your Majesty. You wish to donate these pieces to museums, they’re not for sale to private collectors. Correct?”
“Do you know of many private collectors with an interest in such pieces?”
I want to raise my hand and jump up and down while screaming me, me, me. I’d give just about anything for the privilege of calling just one of the Barclay pieces my own.
It takes all of my professional resolve to suppress the urge. Not only is such behavior unprofessional, the only way I could afford them was by taking drastic measures such as selling my house, my car, my business, my soul.
Tempting … but no.
Something in the queen’s eyes makes me think she knows exactly what’s going through my mind.
“I know of several people who would most certainly be interested in the opportunity to own any one of these pieces.”
Please say no, please say no.
I beam the thoughts her way. Once the pieces land in a private collection, they’ll most likely never be seen again.
If I can’t have any for my own, I would rather they end up in a museum, where they’d be properly displayed and viewed by people who truly appreciate them. Like me.
Clearly money isn’t a problem for the family. They don’t have to sell their treasures so they could pay their heating bill. Something I’ve done from time to time.
The queen doesn’t respond right away. She chews on her lip and slides a sideways glance her son who has apparently become singularly fascinated by something on the wall just past my left shoulder. I resist the urge to look.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive me. I failed to make myself clear during our exchanges.” The queen speaks slowly, like she’s in the middle of making a major decision. “I don’t want to donate these to any museums.”
My heart sinks. I shouldn’t have double checked her intentions. I shouldn’t have even mentioned the possibility of selling the pieces to private collectors.
“I want to use them to start a type of national museum right here in the capital city.”
Lucas and Eileen nearly give themselves whiplash as they turn to stare at her.
I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. These pieces aren't going to be hidden away forever. Thank goodness.
“Okay.” I say, starting to speak all at once – the relief causing me to babble. “I know a few people I can talk to who can provide advice on that type of project … unless you already have someone lined up.”
“I want you to do it.”
Lucas
“Mom!”
I have to have misheard.
Ever since she first got on this kick about giving away antiques, my mom has been adamant that she wants to donate them. She even had a list of museums she thought might be interested. Nothing was mentioned about starting something completely new.
“It will be perfect. Not only will it let us clear some of this stuff out of the castle and allow people, our own citizens, to enjoy it, but it’s something each generation of our family can add to. Think about it, you can put your fencing trophies there.”
“It’s a wonderful idea,” Alexis says.
I look over my shoulder and glare at her.
“Mom, I really think …”
“Your Majesty,” Eileen interjects. “It’s a huge undertaking. Very complicated.”
My mother waves a hand, silencing all of us and directs her attention to Alexis. “Ms. Thane, this is something I have my heart set on and after watching you and listening to you speak of these pieces, I know you’re the perfect person for the job.”
Alexis opens her mouth to protest, but my mother silences her with a single glance.
“I realize that I’ve rather sprung this on you at the last moment, but I stand by my decision. I also believe it’s a project that my son should partake in.”
Oh, Hell no.
“Mom-!”
She sends me a quiet glare and my knee jerk protest dies in my throat. I might be an adult, but she’s still my mom and more importantly, my Queen, a person I know not to cross.
“You were foolish and reckless enough to accept a matrimony dare, one that you’re about to lose. It seems that this type of behavior indicates you need more responsibilities. A museum is a good place to start.”
She turns back to Alexis. “I’ll give you some time to gather your thoughts and to put together the start of a plan. My son will meet you at your hotel this evening to discuss the project.”
Alexis
“And then she just left the room,” I mutter, still stunned. “She didn’t care that I have zero experience with anything like setting up a museum, or even that it might not want to do it.”
Tessa chuckles and twirls a hunk of my dark blonde hair around the curling iron. “But you do want it.”
She’s right. I do. The second the queen made the non-offer, it was something I wanted with my whole heart and soul. Still … “I don’t have any experience or training.”
“You spent the bulk of your childhood in museums and antique stores.”
“But I don’t have any experience or training in curating a freakin’ museum!”
“You know what works and what doesn’t. Besides, you’re already lusting over those Lunn pieces and this is the best way to make sure you get to spend as much time as you can with them.”
She’s right and the thought is tempting, but if I do it, I know I’ll fall in love with the final project and walking away from it will break my heart.
“Plus, there’s the bonus of spending all that time with an honest to goodness Prince.”
“Who happens to be a first-class jackass.”
Tessa shrugs, the movement tugs my hair. “Most are. What I want to know is he as cute as he looks in his pictures.”
I flash back to
my instant reaction to him and swallow. If Tessa knew about that … “He’s handsome enough, I guess.”
“Alexis Thane.” Tessa tosses the hot curling iron onto the vanity and uses her hold on my hair to tip my head back until she’s looking down on my face.
Her eyes narrow. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”
I jerk free of her grasp. “I thought he was hot for, like, a millisecond. Then his personality hit me like a Mack truck and I changed my mind. Trust me the idea of spending even a minute in his company is intolerable.”
“Uh huh,” Tessa picks the curling iron up and applies it to another strand of my hair.
“Seriously. Not only did he manhandle me after questioning my skills, he has zero sense of humor. I can’t be around serious people, you know that. It’s why I took a chance with my own consulting business rather than working for someone else.”
The few people who’d been willing to hire me had been stuffed shirts.
“Your jokes are an acquired taste.”
“Most people at least pretend to be amused…”
“Sure, you have.” A hint of sarcasm colors Tessa’s words. “You know what they say about the line between love and hate.”
I ignore her. I look in the mirror. I’m wearing so much makeup, my reflection barely bears a passing resemblance to me.
“Speaking of things I don’t want to do, tell me – how did I get talked into doing this again?”
“Because you know it’s a good cause.”
“I’d rather just write a check.” Though it would have to be a small one. A recent glance at my bank balance revealed just how badly my business needed this consulting job. That same low balance is going to make walking away from this museum gig even more difficult.
“You’re also doing it because you love me and know that I feel like crap.”
Even though Tess did look better than she had when I left her earlier today, she wasn’t in peak condition. She moved slow, like every joint in her body ached, and her skin was pale which highlighted her hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes.
“Even sick, you’d still be the prettiest woman.”
“Oh sweetie,” Tessa pulled the plug on the curling iron and wrapped one arm around my shoulders in an awkward hug. “You’re a doll for saying so, but I still have stomach cramps and I just don’t think I can sit through both the auction and a dinner date. And it’s not fair to ask a guy to shell out a wad of cash only to watch me run to the bathroom every five minutes.”
Her stomach chose that moment to emit a loud complaint that made me wince while Tessa closed her eyes and took deep breaths.
Tessa’s younger brother suffered from spina bifida and Tessa was passionate about finding a cure. Everywhere we went, she organized an auction that consisted of both guys and gals and took place in whatever hotel we happened to be staying in.
Whoever placed the winning bid, took the person up for auction out for a nice night on the town.
It had turned into a great deal both for the charity, but also for the hotels and Tessa. Most of the auctions brought in about 20 grand for the organization, everybody involved drank lots which the hotel loved, and Tessa met all sort of wealthy people.
Tonight, I’m standing in for Tessa. Which is why she’d done my hair and make-up and poured me into a slinky red dress that she’d ordered from a local boutique.
Tessa swallows and gathers her composure. She really doesn’t look well. I wish she’d see a doctor.
She looks at the clock on her cell phone. “Get your shoes on. It’s time to meet your prince.”
I slide my feet into glittery silver high heeled sandals Tessa got me and slowly pick my way across the room. I catch a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror and take a split moment to admire the magic Tessa has managed – somehow – to weave over me.
I don’t look like me. I look better.
“He’s not my prince.” I protest. “In fact, he’s the last prince I’d want to be mine.”
Still, I’m pleased that at least this time, I’m looking my best.
Lucas
“Spina bifida,” Roderick murmurs, reading the words printed on the sign prominently displayed in the hotel lobby. “What’s that?”
“It’s a birth defect that impacts the spine,” Tim, our personal walking encyclopedia supplies. “I think it’s genetic, but don’t quote me on that.”
Roderick reads the rest of the sign and pats his back pocket. “Been a while since I’ve been to a bachelorette auction. Hope I brought enough cash.”
I shoot him a dark look. “You’re not here to bid on women. You’re here to help me talk this con artist of an antiques dealer into leaving the country.”
I glance at Tim who is openly checking out a long-legged red head in a short green dress. “You too.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Roderick says, but I can tell his heart isn’t in it. He’s also ogling the red head and trying to decide how much money he’s willing to spend in order to keep her away from Tim.
“That shouldn’t take long. Just pull your ‘I’m a billionaire prince and you’re a peon’ routine and she should flee pretty quickly. It’s always worked before.”
“Yeah,” Tim agrees, “but this time we have the added challenge of trying to figure out a way to do it that doesn’t piss off the queen.”
I tune them out and look for the hotel manager who was supposed to set aside a space for a private meeting.
I have mixed feelings about this meeting. There’s something about her that gets under my skin and I do want her out of my country, but after looking her up via the internet, I can’t fault her credentials. Yes, she’s young, especially considering that most of the people in her profession already have one foot in the grave, but she’s not only highly qualified, she’s also well respected. And everything she said about those glass sculptures was spot on.
I don’t like her, but I can’t help thinking about the way she looked when she held that butterfly.
There was so much passion and awe in that expression. It was the same type of passion I feel whenever I fence. In that moment, she’d been the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
Between my money and my title, any woman who catches my eye happily jumps into my bed, but not once has anyone ever looked at me like Alexis Tate looked at that butterfly. I can’t stop thinking about what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that same passion.
A pair of women sitting at the end of the bar catch my eye.
One is gorgeous brunette who manages to make a sweater dress and pair of black leggings look like the height of fashion. A short, curvy woman leans against the bar beside her. My eyes slide up the long length of shapely leg the short red skirt leaves bare, past the curve of her hip, pauses a moment on a magnificent bosom that’s expertly displayed, and lands on a face that’s pale beneath the expertly applied make-up.
Shit! It’s the same damn face I haven’t been able to rid from my thoughts since I first saw it.
If she’d been done up like she is now, instead of looking like a school girl, I would have been nicer to her.
I take a second peek at her perfect neckline. My cock can’t help but twitch appreciatively.
A lot nicer.
Tim follows the direction of my gaze and lets out a low appreciative whistle. “She’s got to be one of the people going up on the auction block tonight.”
“Don’t know,” I say. Suddenly I don’t want him or Roderick with me for this meeting.
“How about you guys figure out the bidding process and save me a seat.”
“But I thought you wanted our help?”
My mind spins. “Let me talk to her by myself. If that doesn’t go well, I’ll call you guys in.”
“Are you sure?” Roderick asks.
‘It’s royal business so it’s only fair I should handle it.”
As friends, they might have pressed the issue, but as my subjects they know better.
They hold their pos
itions and watch as I wind my way through the crowd, avoiding making eye contact with anyone by keeping my gaze locked on my target. Beckett, my long-time body guard, follows close at my heels, not letting anyone approach me from behind.
“Ms. Tate,” I stop just a little too close to her. Once again, the sweet smell of strawberries assaults my senses. “I believe we have a meeting.”
Alexis grabs the glass of red wine sitting on the bar and downs the entire thing in one long swallow. I watch and can’t help wondering what those lips would feel like while wrapped around my cock.
Something brushes my arm, and I reluctantly drag my attention away from Alexis and focus on her companion.
Her mouth tips up in an amused smirk. While she’s not exactly the movie star beautiful, this girl is truly lovely and despite being dressed down compared to most of the other young women in the lobby, she has that extra special quality that makes her stand out.
If she wasn’t next to suddenly drop dead gorgeous Alexis, I would have made a move on her.
“Prince Lucas?”
I nod and she extends a hand which I take. “Tessa Baker, Alexis’s business partner. We spoke to the manager and arranged to use a small conference room just off this lobby. He offered something quieter but it’s important for Alexis and I stick close to the action since Alexis is taking part in tonight’s auction and will need to be told when it’s her turn. I hope you don’t mind, it’s for a good cause.”
“It’s fine.” I step back, giving Tessa enough room to slide off the bar stool. “Lead the way.”
She hooks an arm around Alexis’s silk clad waist and leads her towards a doorway near the back of the lobby. I follow a few paces behind and enjoy the way the silk hugs the curve of Alexis’ rear and how her hips sway.
With each step, the idea of working closely with her to establish a museum becomes much more appealing.