Cinderella's Royal Seduction

by Dani Collins

  “And Maude is on the run from the law?” he surmised facetiously. “Shocking.”

  “Um, no, sir. Maude and her daughters don’t seem to have a criminal record of any kind. But Cassiopeia’s mother is a Basile-Munier.”

  Rhys snapped his head around. “But they died out.”

  Nevertheless, his blood leaped as he took the tablet and scrolled through the report. It included an image of a birth certificate and a short article by a historian who had visited this spa some years ago. The man had been trying to prove the owner was the surviving child of a prince who had disappeared from public life after an assassination attempt. That prince and his wife had had a daughter late in life. She’d eloped against her father’s wishes.

  A marriage certificate and a title search on this property all seemed to indicate Sopi’s mother was that same woman.

  “Is this real?”

  “A DNA test would confirm it, although I’m not sure where we’d get a sample. Miss Brodeur seems to be the only surviving member. But if you scroll to the photo at the bottom, it would seem, um, like mother like daughter. And granddaughter.”

  Rhys stared at a scan of a dated color photograph of two women who both had Sopi’s cheekbones and chin, rich brown hair and gleaming dark eyes.

  The room was absolutely still and silent, but he felt as though a gust of wind hit him. Went through him. Nearly knocked him on his ass.

  This was too easy. Too perfect. This wasn’t how life worked. Not how it should do in any case, not for him.

  At the same time, a roaring thrill went through him. He could have her. He would have her. His agile brain quickly found the rationale for it. A commoner would have been a fight, but a royal would be accepted without question. Even better, she was a lost princess whose story would pull the spotlight from Henrik. His brother dropping out of public life while he sought treatment would barely be noticed by anyone.

  “Forget driving down the price of the spa. I want a swift sale, immediate possession and binding terms.”

  The checkers game he’d been playing with Maude was flung into the air. This was now grand master chess with a side hand of high-stakes poker.

  Within the hour, Gerard had the contract finalized. Maude agreed that the transfer of ownership would remain confidential until such time as Rhys saw fit to announce it. Rhys informed her he would retain all staff but no longer needed a marketing VP or brand ambassadress. The people holding those positions—Nanette and Fernanda—would have to vacate their suite by the end of the week.

  “Your late husband purchased this property for his wife?” Rhys asked as he and Maude set their electronic signatures to the final deal. He was curious whether Maude knew of Sopi’s royal blood.

  “I understood she had an inheritance of some kind enabling her to renovate it. We rarely spoke about our previous marriages, to be honest. I’m just delighted to finally have this albatross off my hands. I run it as a folly, but it’s more work than it’s worth.”

  As Gerard double-checked and pronounced everything settled, Rhys said to Maude, “Would you and your family dine with me this evening?”

  “Oh, Nanette and Fernanda would love that.”

  No mention of Sopi, her considerable contribution to the business or how this sale would impact her.

  Maude’s complete disregard for her stepdaughter incensed Rhys, making his delight in outsmarting her grow exponentially until a bellow of triumph was nearly bursting from his chest.

  It was a warning sign that he felt far too strongly about this. About Sopi. If he felt anything, it ought to be the comfortable satisfaction that he had uncovered an opportunity that benefited his brother and was moving strategically to seize it before anyone else could.

  Even when he had the spa sewn up, however, Rhys’s powerful sense of urgency didn’t ease. He tried to pace it off, aware that Sopi would be furious with him, but his deal with Maude was the least of the shocks she would receive tonight.

  * * *

  When Sopi returned and confronted Maude over the wasted day, her stepmother frowned and said, “Oh, you know how Fernanda gets distracted when she’s excited. She and Nanette have been invited to dine with the prince tonight. That must be why she mixed things up.”

  It was a prevarication if not an outright lie. Sopi was dying to say, Oh, really? Because last night, when I was with the prince, he told me he wasn’t interested in either of them.

  But she didn’t want to reveal she’d been with the prince. She hadn’t felt sordid when it happened, but after brooding on it all day, she was convinced she’d behaved like those women he’d spoken of so disparagingly. The ones who straddled him whether he wanted them to or not.

  She went about her afternoon checking in with staff and pitching in as necessary. When a handsome young man approached her as she was covering the booking desk, she smiled in greeting, caught off guard when he used her full name, not the Sopi on her name tag.

  “Cassiopeia Brodeur?”

  “Yes.” This was more the type of man she ought to aim for, she thought absently. He was polite and well dressed, but his attitude didn’t scream wealth and privilege. He returned her smile, but with polite reserve. He didn’t move the needle on her body temperature one millimeter, which was delightfully unthreatening if a little disappointing.

  “Please call me Sopi. How can I help you?”

  “I’m the prince’s assistant, Gerard. This is for you.” The small envelope he offered was imprinted with the royal crest.

  Her heart tripped, and she ducked the envelope below the edge of the desk to hide how her hands began to tremble.

  “Thank you,” she said in a strangled voice, cheeks scorching. She wanted to glance around guiltily but held his stare and her smile even though it began to feel forced.

  “He asked if I could also take your number?” He offered his telephone with a contact already started in her name.

  She balked. Rhys had gotten her naked last night, then fobbed her off on his bodyguard when he was finished with her. She wasn’t up for a do-over, if that’s what this was about.

  “Perhaps if you read his message,” Gerard suggested, correctly interpreting her mutinous expression.

  She withdrew the card, which was a single sheet, not even folded. It was some kind of high-grade linen stock in ivory with raw edges, also embossed with his crest.

  His fine-tipped pen had dug in deep and left small trails, as though he’d rushed to write his brief message, barely lifting the pen. Or had written it in anger.

  Where the hell did you go today?

  Dinner.

  No excuses.

  Splotch went the ink on the final dot.

  She bit her lip and slid the card back into the envelope, glanced at Gerard.

  “Seven p.m. in the dining room with the rest of your family? I’ll tell him you’re confirmed?”

  The rest of her family? Yech.

  He must have read her reaction. “If there are any impediments, please bring them to my attention so I may iron them away.”

  She resisted asking him to squash her family flat.

  “I’ll be there,” she said, not sure if she was telling the truth. At least she’d bought a new dress today, still stinging over the incident with her stepsisters. The new one wasn’t designer or flashy by their standards, but it had come from an upscale boutique and cost more than Sopi’s weekly earnings. She had planned to return it on her next trip to Jasper.

  “Excellent. And would you be so kind...?” He offered his phone again.

  She hesitated, then gave him her number. He tried it, smiling when a ping sounded in her pocket. “Please let me know if I can assist you in any way.”

  Perhaps he could offer her some strategies on facing the prince after last night?

  For the rest of the afternoon, every time she tried to think up a reason to cry off the
dinner invitation, she touched the card in her pocket and could hear Rhys’s deep voice warning, “No excuses.” Why did she find his profanity-laced impatience so reassuring? It brought a secretive smile to her lips every time she thought of it.

  At five fifty-five, Maude called her. “Sopi. We have a disaster in the kitchen. You’ll have to run out or breakfast won’t happen tomorrow morning.”

  Here was her excuse to skip dinner, but a devilish part of her refused to seize it.

  “We’re expected to dine with the prince this evening, aren’t we?” she asked with a full pound of smugness. “I had a note from him, personally inviting me. I don’t want to be rude.”

  A pause that was loud enough to thunk. Maude might have swallowed. “I assumed you would decline. You tend to set yourself apart from us.”

  Oh, was it was her who did that?

  Actually, maybe she did. She had never forgiven Maude for keeping her father in Europe or for spending all his money. Still, Sopi pulled the phone from her ear and scowled at the screen. Maude was sounding particularly petty about a simple dinner invitation. Was she that embarrassed of her unrefined stepdaughter?

  “Well, tonight I’ll join you,” Sopi said cheerfully. “Since it’s not often I get a chance to dine with royalty.” She hung up and stuck her tongue out at the phone.

  Then she suffered a churning stomach for the next hour as she showered and dressed. Her hair, which she never bothered to cut because she always wore it up, was ridiculously long, falling to her waist. At least it had a hint of wave, but it tickled her lower back, where her new dress had a circular cutout.

  The dress was a sleeveless knit with a high collar, but it made her look fuller in the chest than she was, which balanced hips that were a shade wider than her stepsisters’ fashion magazines told her they ought to be.

  She wasn’t much for makeup, but her cheeks were pale with nerves. She gave them a swipe of blusher and painted her lips with a pink gloss. She hadn’t thought about new shoes when she’d been shopping today so she had only the plain black pumps she wore when she played hostess in the dining room.

  As she went onto tiptoe in the bathroom, trying to see her bottom half in the mirror, the butterflies in her stomach turned to slithering snakes. She was kidding herself. Not only would she not measure up to Nanette and Fernanda, she would look downright foolish in everyone’s eyes, trying so hard to impress.

  Just as she started to kick off her shoes, however, Gerard texted that the prince was sending an escort for her.

  Sopi choked on her tongue, texted back that it was unnecessary and decided to do what she’d been doing for years now—brave things out for one more day.

  She had put up with Maude’s proprietary orders and her stepsisters’ snobbery because the alternative was to cede the territory to them and wind up with nothing. Cassiopeia’s was her home. She would fight for it to the bitter end.

  Which came sooner than she’d expected.

  * * *

  What happens when it’s over?

  It would never be over. Rhys had found the woman he would marry. The knowledge should have afforded him nothing beyond a contented sense of completion. He didn’t like the gnawing sense in him that he needed to leap and snatch and hold on tight. Gerard had assured him Sopi had promised to join them for dinner, but she had become so important to him in the last few hours, Rhys feared that if she wasn’t in the dining room when he got there, he might well devolve into shedding blood.

  He stalked from the elevator across the short bridge that overlooked the foyer below to the dining room reservation desk. He was as combat ready as any of his ancestral knights, vibrating with a drive to claim.

  The babble inside the dining room went silent as he appeared. Everyone rose with a muted shuffle of chairs. A small pocket of women stood to the side of the reception desk. One of them was backed into a corner behind a potted palm.

  The tension in their small group hit him like a battering ram, but the sight of Sopi’s drawn cheeks and bravely lifted chin reached out to claw into his chest.

  “Ladies,” he greeted.

  Sopi stiffened and skimmed her gaze to a distant corner, refusing to make eye contact.

  “Your Highness,” the rest murmured.

  So. They’d told her about the sale. And she was taking it badly.

  Rhys kept an impassive expression on his face, but he wanted to catch her by the chin and force her thick lashes up, so she looked directly into his eyes. He wanted to ask how she dared let these women take advantage of her. Didn’t she realize who she was?

  No. She didn’t. Steps had been taken to bury it too deeply.

  He had thought to make a dramatic announcement here in the dining room, but as he read the angry hurt in her, he realized he couldn’t spring it on her like that. She would hate and blame him a little longer, but he could withstand it.

  Any guilt Rhys might have experienced for his underhanded actions in buying the spa dried up, however. It was past time Sopi learned the truth about her mother and herself. He couldn’t wait for the transformation.

  Maude’s younger daughter demanded his attention by stepping forward and offering a curtsy with a breathy, nervous giggle.

  “Your Highness, some of my friends have just arrived.” She waved at a long table with a half dozen women down either side, all looking his way with anticipation. A few empty seats had been saved in the middle. “We wondered if you might enjoy a more lively evening? They’re anxious for a chance to meet you.”

  “Another time.” He glanced impatiently at Maude.

  “Of course,” Maude said smoothly. “We have a quiet table reserved at the back. Sopi?”

  “This way.” Sopi didn’t smile, and her voice was cold and pointed as an icicle aimed at the middle of his chest. She led the way through the staring crowd.

  Ingrained protocol nearly had him offering an arm to escort Maude and her eldest daughter, but he shunned them at the last second, moving ahead of them, all his attention on the sensual swish of loose hair across the top of a stunning, heart-shaped ass that swayed provocatively as she wound her way between the tables.

  Dear God, that hair. How dare she hide such a thing from him? It was an instant fetish he would need a thousand nights to indulge.

  It was a good thing the place was filled with mostly women, because if he caught any man, even one of his lethally trained bodyguards, checking her out, he would duel to the death.

  He gritted his teeth, trying to suppress this unwelcome surge of possessiveness. Where was it coming from? It was more than his innate preference to act on his decisions the minute he made them. It was positively primeval. It was an aspect of that wildness he knew lurked in any human, and he didn’t like it. He only hoped it would ease up once he knew she was his. It had to. Otherwise they were doomed.

  He was given the position at the head of the table, Maude on his right, Nanette on his left. Sopi sat on Maude’s right and glared at Fernanda, who shrugged across at her in a silent, Don’t blame me.

  “I want to thank you for your hospitality,” Rhys said as their champagne arrived and was poured. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

  “You won’t stay the week?” Maude murmured, but she was drowned out by Fernanda’s, “Us, too, in a few days. Finally!” Fernanda raised her glass.

  Sopi choked strongly enough they all lowered their glasses. Her eyes glimmered as she shot hard looks at each of them.

  “You suck. You all suck,” she croaked.

  There was a collective gasp from tables nearby. Maude said a sharp, “Sopi! Consider who you’re speaking to.”

  Rhys said nothing, pleased to see she possessed a spine after all. She would need one.

  “All of you.” She rose and glared directly at him with betrayed hurt sharp as the edge of a knife.

  Her hand jerked, but before she could fling the conte
nts of her wine at him, Rhys’s bodyguard caught her wrist.

  “Stand down,” Rhys barked at him, also rising.

  Sopi shrugged away from the bodyguard’s hold and stepped away from the table. She threw her glass to the floor in a shattering statement.

  “Go to hell. Every single one of you.” She stalked out.

  “Someone doesn’t know which side her bread is buttered on,” Nanette said into her champagne.

  “True,” Rhys bit out, sending Nanette a dark glower that made her blanch. He set his hands on the table to lean over the three women. “Those who betray others to get what they want should expect the same treatment. Skip the meal and start packing. Be gone by midnight.”

  “What—”

  He ignored the women’s cries of shock as he straightened and sent a curt nod to Gerard. His assistant would ensure the staff were notified that Maude and her daughters no longer gave the orders and, in fact, were no longer residents of the hotel.

  As the buzz of gossip and speculation spread like wildfire through the room, Rhys jerked his head at his bodyguard to lead the way to Sopi’s cabin.

  * * *

  How stupid could she get? She had genuinely thought her worst humiliation was allowing a man with more experience to talk her out of her clothes and take a few liberties with her person. She had thought letting down her physical guard where his sexual intentions were concerned had been the careless act, but no. Last night’s dalliance had been some kind of misdirection so she would be blindly ignorant of what Maude was really doing.

  What he was doing. Of course he wasn’t interested in her. He had toyed with her the way some executives spun fidget spinners while brokering a deal.

  The pressure in her chest threatened to crack her breastbone, but Sopi refused to scream or cry or release any of the aching sobs branding her throat.

  Fine, she’d been thinking for the last twenty minutes, after Fernanda had spilled the beans that Maude had definitely meant to be delivered a few days from now, no doubt after ordering Sopi to load their damned luggage for them. Maude had hissed in warning and Nanette had said, “For God’s sake, Fernie. Mummy told you it’s confidential.”