The Prince’s GameA Mershano Empire Novel

by Lexi C. Foss

  “I prefer Will.” He swirled his glass of red wine and cocked his head to the side. “And you are?”

  “Sarah Summers.” Two cameramen danced around us, filming from different angles. I did my best to ignore the annoying duo.

  “Why are you sitting all alone in the corner, darlin’?” The flirtatious smile seemed to be a natural fixture on his handsome face. Like Evan, he was athletically built and easy on the eyes, but there was a harder edge to Will despite the carefree air. The hand toying with the stem of his glass was rough and calloused. Those marks spoke of hard labor, not the cultured background of a groomed billionaire.

  “I was enjoying the view.” Honesty never hurt anyone.

  “View?”

  I gestured to the window and the water outside. “Looking at the lighting over the water. Eerie, right? Just sort of drew me in, I guess.”

  “Huh.” He tipped the glass to his full lips and studied me over the rim. “Not bad, but shouldn’t you be trying to get Evan’s attention?”

  The beehive of women around him made that option unappealing. “Perhaps, but he’s busy.”

  “So you won’t even try?”

  Aware of the camera on us, I kept it light. “Maybe I’m shy.”

  “Or maybe you’re hoping the standoffish thing will attract his attention?”

  Uh no. I kept it vague with a shrug. The videotaping was getting old fast. Maybe if I bored them to death, they would leave. “So, what do you do for a living?”

  He cocked a blond brow. “You don’t know what I do?”

  “Uh . . .” Was I supposed to look that up? “No?” My research was on names, pictures, and stock details.

  “You’re drinking it, darlin’,” he said as I took a sip of the wine. I pulled back the glass to examine it. The fruity notes were delicious, if a little dry.

  “This is yours?”

  “Mershano Vineyards.”

  Well, I’ll be damned. “Nice.”

  “You really didn’t know?”

  Why did both Mershano men assume I was acting? I couldn’t lie my way out of a speeding ticket, let alone a social faux pas. “Nope, but I do now. And it’s pretty good.”

  Both eyebrows went up. “Pretty good?”

  “Yeah, it’s a little dry for my taste, but it’s still good. I like the citrus notes.”

  His brown eyes took measure of me, pausing on my breasts before leaning to the side to look over the rest. My legs were crossed, which left the slit exposing my foot and calf. “Is it customary for the cousin to check out contestants for the prince?” I wasn’t one to mince words.

  He chuckled. “Here I was expecting a shy, dark-haired beauty, but you’re a little minx, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been called worse.” My last boyfriend called me a ballbuster who would die an old hag. He didn’t take kindly to me turning down his proposal to move to Seattle. My career was in Chicago. The relationship was over the second he told me my job wasn’t a big deal.

  “You sure you don’t want a minute with Evan? He’s going to love you.”

  “I’m good.” Remembering the show minions, I rephrased. “I mean, he’s good. I don’t want to interrupt.” He was inside again lounging on the couch with his arms spread out along the back. There was a woman on each side, and two more sitting on the sofa back behind him. I had to give him credit; he did a great job flirting with the women without getting too close. I wasn’t sure what he did outside, but I suspected if he’d kissed anyone, the other women would have been in an uproar about it.

  The clinking of glasses quieted the room as the hosts stood to address the crowd. It was Joseph who spoke. “Ladies, as you all know, there are only twenty room keys to be given out tonight. That means a third of you will be going home. What we haven’t told you is Evan’s family gets to pick the first three.” Will’s foot nudged mine beneath the table, and he waggled his eyebrows at me. That can’t be a good sign.

  “Now, I know we’ve only been socializing for an hour, but Evan’s family watched the footage from your initial meeting with our beloved prince, so they’re prepared to make their choices. The three women they select will be escorted to their suites by our prince, and then he’ll return for a final hour of socializing before the other seventeen keys are distributed. Evan, I understand you want to say a few things before we proceed?”

  “Yes.” He joined Joseph at the front of the room and ran his hand through his hair, messing up the elegant style. His chuckle was warm and elicited several smiles. “I meant to make a welcome speech when I walked in, but I was swept away by all the beautiful women.”

  Joseph laughed. “That’s easy to do in your situation. You’re a lucky man, Mister Mershano.”

  “I am.” Evan’s grin was infectious as he addressed the room. “I want to thank all of you for being here. I can’t begin to describe how unique of an experience this is for me. Dating multiple women, the cameras, my family picking women for me . . .” He paused to search for his parents in the crowd and gave them pointed looks while the girls laughed. His tone implied it was a joke, but the tension in his shoulders suggested otherwise. Interesting.

  “Well, it’s a lot,” he continued. “But I know it’s a lot for all of you as well, and I just wanted to say thank you for putting your faith in me and for being here. I hope we can have fun, make some memories, and go to some cool places. What do you think? Sound like a good time?” Excited yells and applause broke out in response, making him smile. “Yeah, I thought so. Then let’s get started.” He raised his wine glass to the room and took a healthy sip.

  I wondered if anyone else noticed he didn’t talk about marriage or love at all. Wasn’t that what he wanted from this experience? To find a wife?

  “Excellent.” Joseph didn’t have a glass to drink from, so he settled on a clap instead. “Let’s get started. Will, Ellen, and Jonah, please join me with your choices.”

  Will leaned over while the crew member was distracted. “Ready, darlin’?” With a wink that resembled a punch to my stomach, he stood.

  Please tell me I didn’t just screw this up. The evening was perfect. I ignored the prince, kept to myself, and socialized with one person. His cousin. A family member with the ability to choose whom he wanted to stay on the show. And he wasn’t leaving.

  He pulled a key out of his pocket and showed it to me. “How do you feel about the fourth floor?”

  Fuck. “Are you serious?”

  His charming smile held a sinful glint. “Don’t get shy on me now, little minx.”

  I finished my glass of wine and set it down with a clink. The refusal clause Abby signed on my behalf flashed through my thoughts. Damn it. I had to accept, or I would be in breach of contract. Abigail Summers was a dead woman when I got my hands on her. Blowing out a breath, I stood up. One extra night wouldn’t hurt. I’d find a way to sabotage myself tomorrow and be on the first plane out. I could do this. “Okay.”

  I accepted the key and followed his lead. Envious glares and pouts tracked our steps toward the front of the room. Yeah, this isn’t uncomfortable at all. Evan’s parents stopped to present their choices to Evan first. Ellen, a blonde-haired woman with hazel eyes and stern features, picked Amber. Shocking. Jonah was an older version of his tall and handsome son, with salt and pepper hair and sinful eyes. His choice was a brunette in a purple dress, named Georgiana. Evan gave both women hugs before fixing his gaze on me.

  Will whispered something in his cousin’s ear, eliciting a grin from the prince. “You know I have good taste, E,” he added as he pulled away.

  “We’ll see.” His gaze was curious as he studied me. “Your interview skills must be improving, Miss Summers. You impressed Will.”

  Ouch. Was he implying my interview skills hadn’t impressed him? “Yes, I applied those strengths we discussed.” Seriously? That was my best comeback? I blamed the situation. I wasn’t used to performing for a crowd.

  “Indeed.” He gave me a quick hug that lacked sincerity, and focused on t
he crowd. “Ladies, I’ll be back soon. Enjoy the wine while I’m gone.” There were a few mewls of disappointment as he led the three of us out of the room, the crew minions hot on our tail. Amber looped her arm through his, and Georgiana took the other side, leaving me to trail behind them. Yep. Not awkward at all.

  The four of us and two cameramen squeezed into the elevator. We started with the third floor, where both Georgiana and Amber were staying. I waited with one of the cameras in the elevator while the other followed the trio into the hall. I was in charge of holding the open button. Fun. When Evan returned, his hands were in his pockets and his jacket reeked of perfume. That didn’t stop the goosebumps from prickling my neck when his arm brushed mine.

  “Four forty-seven?” he asked me.

  “Yep.”

  “Did you enjoy talking to Will?”

  “Sure. He seems nice enough, but I didn’t expect him to pick me.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know.” I followed him out of the elevator and down the hallway. “I figured he’d go for someone else.”

  “I did, too, but something you said impressed him.” He stopped at my door and gave me a look I couldn’t interpret. “I’m looking forward to finding out exactly what that was, Miss Summers.”

  “Right, well, I’m sure you will.” I put my key in the door and opened it. “See you tomorrow?” I had no idea what I was supposed to do or say in this situation.

  He looked me over, his gaze uncertain. “You will.” He caught my hand as I was about to walk into the room and pulled me into his arms. I hugged him back and breathed in his woodsy scent. It was strong at the center of his chest and overpowered the stench of perfume. God, he’s hot. His arm tightened around my waist as he dropped his lips to my ear. “Your act isn’t fooling me, sweetheart. I’m onto you.” The words were so soft I wasn’t sure I heard him right.

  “What?”

  “Good night, Miss Summers.”

  4

  The Personal Assistant

  “Welcome back to The Prince’s Game.” We were in the lobby, standing in a semicircle around Carrie and Joseph. It was day two of filming, and Evan was nowhere to be seen. I’m onto you. What the hell did that mean? I stayed up most of the night thinking about it. Did he know Abby set me up, or was he onto something else? Was I in trouble for something?

  “I’m Carrie Gavins,” our hostess continued, “and this is my handsome cohost, Joseph Grisham. We’re here with the twenty gorgeous women vying for the Prince of New Orleans’s heart. So, ladies, how excited are you to be here?” A cue card was held high from the crew, instructing the girls to scream. It was loud. “A third gone, three to go this week. Who will it be?”

  “So, today is going to be a bit different.” Joseph’s tone was conversational.

  “Oh? And why’s that, Joseph?”

  “Well, Carrie, it seems our prince wants to put his women to the test.” He gave the camera a conspiratorial look. “He spent years working in hotels all over the world before gaining control of the Mershano empire, and he wants to give the girls a dose of that. To better appreciate his life’s work.”

  “Is that why he sent all the staff home this week?” Carrie’s acting skills were impressive. I almost believed she was surprised.

  “That is indeed why he did it.” Bright blue eyes took in the semicircle of uneasy contestants. “Ladies, he wants you to run the hotel for the week.”

  “He wants us to work?” The one who spoke flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder and pursed her lips.

  “Perfect.” Paul mouthed the word and honed in on a few others as they chimed in with their disapproval. The lines were all part of a script the writers handed out to specific people during breakfast. They skipped me. Smart move.

  “Uh, yeah, I’m not here to work.” That came from a tall redhead.

  “You expect me to wash dishes? That will, like, totally ruin my nails.” Some blonde Valley girl.

  “Isn’t the whole purpose to be his new princess? If he wants a maid, he can hire one.” Another redhead. I was sensing a theme.

  “Oh, stop your yappin’. Evan spent years workin’ in the industry before taking over the Mershano empire.” Amber’s hands were on her hips. “I think Evan wants us to prove that we can respect his hard work and what he’s built. If y’all can’t do that, then there’s the door.” She pointed to the exit.

  “Buh-bye,” Georgiana added with a theatrical wave.

  Chaos ensued as insults were hurtled back at the pair. The minions Amber adopted this morning were quick to defend their queen bee, evoking a huge grin from Paul. I fought the urge to roll my eyes as everything went to hell in a handbasket fast. At the crest of the complaints, Paul silenced the group with a loud “Cut!” He then continued in a normal tone, “That was fantastic. Joseph, we’re going to pan back to you as you try to silence them all. When that doesn’t work, Carrie, I want you to whistle. Got it?”

  The former beauty queen beamed. “Yup.”

  “Ladies, resume bickering in three, two, one . . .” The yelling picked up with a wave of his hand. The show’s host waited until a finger went his way to start interrupting, and then the hostess blew a whistle that deafened my ears. The lady had a pair of lungs on her.

  “Now, hold on, ladies.” Joseph flashed an affable grin. “There is a benefit to all of this. Evan will be watching everyone closely, visiting different groups to supervise and chat. At the end, he’ll select two of you for a very intimate group date. This is a big deal because there will be no other dates this week prior to the elimination.”

  Excited chatter broke out around me as challenge swept over the crowd. We were getting to the heart of the game show. I could hear the announcers saying in a dramatic voice, Who will win the prince’s two-on-one date tonight? I refrained from rolling my eyes.

  “Now, there are twenty positions ranging from his personal assistant to dishwashers to maids to reception staff. Each . . .” He smiled. The word assistant echoed thickly through the air. “Yes, ladies, a personal assistant, meaning one of you gets to spend the entire day working alongside Evan in his office upstairs, but whoever lands the assistant role isn’t eligible for the date tonight. As I was saying, each job will be randomly assigned using the conventional method of picking a position from a hat.”

  Carrie nudged her cohost playfully. “But who goes first, Joseph?”

  “I was thinking by birthday, youngest to oldest.” Which would make me last pick. Joy. “Or we could go by birthday month and day?” That would put me in the middle of the pack with my July birthday. It’d be a little better, and wouldn’t focus on me being the oldest of the bunch. “Is there a preference?”

  “Let’s go by month and day.” Carrie snapped her fingers. A crew member dressed in a tuxedo handed Joseph a purple-and-green top hat with a gold feather. Several of the girls giggled at it. I suspected it came from the streets of New Orleans—a throwback to the show’s location. Nice.

  They called us out by birthdate. Each woman picked a gold coin from the hat; on it was the job title. Paul captured each woman’s reaction on film, chuckling silently at the frowns and distaste radiating from those who were given manual work. The girl with the nails ended up a maid, while Amber, who had a February birthday, was placed at the reception desk. There were five positions left when the camera rolled my way. I grabbed a heavy token and read the title out loud.

  “Personal assistant.” Those two words took a moment to register. I expected to be a dishwasher or a cook. If the girls disliked me before, they hated me now. Well, crap. An entire day working with Evan? I wanted to know what he meant last night, but I didn’t want to spend time with him. Unless I could make him send me home . . .

  “I guess it’s a good thing we didn’t go by age, huh?” one of the girls remarked. I didn’t know who said it, and I didn’t care.

  The rest of the positions were handed out, and directions were given on where to report. I was told to wait for the hosts, a clear
indication of how my day was going to go. Nothing like working under the pressure of a camera all day. If drama was their hope, they would be disappointed. I wasn’t built for television. Abby was the one they wanted. Her interviews were what put me on the show. Too bad we were nothing alike.

  “Okay, so here’s the deal.” Paul’s hands were on my shoulders. “The sweater is cute and all, but we need you in a dress around Evan.” Of course you do. “Work with Kami over there. I have something specific in mind for you to wear.”

  Like a good puppet, I went with Kami and found myself in a tight black dress that hit me midthigh. At least it wasn’t orange this time, and it was better than some of the maid outfits the other girls were forced to wear. Brenda, the makeup artist assigned to my face, stopped by to touch up my mascara while a hairdresser pulled out my twist and worked my hair into luxurious tousles. The whole experience wasted an hour of my life, but I looked hot.

  I met Joseph and Carrie in the hallway near the elevators. The redhead gave a nod of approval. “Nice. Camera crew is already upstairs.” She hit the button to call the elevator. “Paul says to pick a part before the doors open.”

  “A part?” I was an actress now?

  “You know, seductress, shy and quiet, nervous, excited, whatever. Just make it good, or we’ll have to do this all over again.” From her tone, I gathered she didn’t want that to happen.

  “Right.” Would annoyed work? Because I could pull that off. I had nothing by the time we hit the top floor. Theater wasn’t my strength.

  “And smile,” Carrie instructed as the doors opened.

  Bright lights and four-inch stiletto heels were not a good combination. I managed a smile and shuffled out of the elevator into the center of a lavish reception area where Evan was waiting in a suit and tie. His brown gaze darkened upon seeing me, but his grin remained in place. That small tell made me uneasy. Okay. At some point, I pissed him off. I thought back on my conversation with Will last night. It was the only thing I could think of that may have angered him after our meeting at the bottom of the stairs. Did Will insinuate that we were flirting last night? A drama ploy for the cameras?