Which, in retrospect, might not be such a good thing.
She was, after all, a walking disaster. Even the tabloids were saying Liam must be out of his mind to take her as his plus-one on official palace business. And she could hardly fault them, because she agreed wholeheartedly.
Her belly churned and for a minute, she thought she might be sick.
“Shall we?” Liam asked, slipping his arm around her waist and giving a reassuring squeeze.
At his touch, Lena’s nerves subsided.
Mostly.
It would be fine. Liam would be with her each step of the way. And clearly, he had more confidence in her than she had in herself or he wouldn’t have invited her, right?
Jack opened the car door and she slid inside, startled to realize the driver wasn’t Ethan. Odd. Liam never went anywhere without both his bodyguards.
“Where’s Ethan?” she asked, turning to Liam as he ducked in next to her.
“He’s already there. He’s doing a quick security check before we arrive.”
Jack climbed into the front seat and the car pulled away from the curb, the paps fading into the night with their flashing lights and obnoxious questions.
Liam fell silent, drumming his fingers against his knee as he stared out the window. There were tension lines around his mouth and his jaw was set. It was so unlike him, she couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. She didn’t know the particulars of Liam’s business in the city, but she knew it was important, which was why she’d promised herself she wouldn’t fuck things up tonight. No disasters. No embarrassing headlines.
But maybe this wasn’t about her.
“Everything okay?” Lena scooted closer, dropping a hand to his thigh. “You seem a little tense.”
“It’s this deal,” he said, finally turning to face her. “Time is running out. Our existing trade agreements are set to expire, and if I don’t secure a new, more favorable deal, Their Majesties will have my arse.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re counting on this deal to help protect the crown.”
“Protect the crown?” Lena asked, furrowing her brows. “How?”
Liam pitched his voice low. “Parliament has been pushing to reduce the power of the monarchy. They want to neuter us like our English cousins.” He sighed. “It happens from time to time, and my father’s been able to hold them off—he’s had a good reign—but the movement is gaining traction with the public.”
“Ay bendito,” Lena gasped, unable to hide her surprise. She didn’t follow international politics or the gossip rags, but she’d had no idea Liam’s future was in jeopardy. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to carry the weight of that burden day to day any more than she could imagine carrying the wellbeing of an entire country and its citizens on her shoulders. “And you don’t think this trade deal will be enough to put things right?”
Liam shook his head. “It’ll be a win to be sure, but Valeria’s once thriving economy is stagnant and unemployment is climbing. The people are restless. Rightly so.”
“It doesn’t seem fair to lay all the blame at the feet of the monarchy.” Liam quirked a brow. Touché. Lena knew as well as anyone that life wasn’t fair. She’d been saddled with impossibly bad luck her entire life. “What will you do?”
“I’ll see the king’s wishes done and close the trade deal. Tonight, if I’m lucky,” he added.
Great, no pressure. It would only cost him his crown if she screwed things up.
“Valeria’s a wealthy country, but the distribution of wealth is uneven at best,” he continued quietly. “We need more private sector and tech jobs to keep pace with the rest of the world.”
Lena leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this, but I know you’ll find a way to save the monarchy.”
It was true. In the three short weeks they’d known each other, she’d come to realize that once Liam set his mind to something, he would see it through. After all, he’d saved her business when there was nothing in it for him. And if he’d go to such lengths to help a stranger, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to deliver the jobs his people needed.
Liam flashed her a wicked grin. “On the bright side, if I fail, I’ll have a lot more free time to spend gallivanting around New York.”
“Very funny,” Lena said, rolling her eyes. She glanced out the window as the car turned onto Broad Street. “Hey, what are we doing in the financial district? I thought we were flying.”
“We are.”
The car slowed at Pier 6, and Liam pointed to a shiny white helicopter.
Lena’s stomach dropped.
“We’re taking a helicopter?” she asked, voice wavering. She’d never even been on a plane before and he wanted her to get in that tiny white death trap? Uh-uh. No way. So not happening. With her bad luck, she was the last person who should be riding in a helicopter. Just last year a chopper had nosedived into the Hudson after taking off from this very same location, and the pilot had died. It was all over the news. She would not be responsible for robbing Valeria of its next king. “Absolutely not.”
Liam chuckled and took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. “I assure you it’s perfectly safe. Weather conditions are favorable and the pilot is very experienced.”
“Perfectly safe for you, maybe,” she said, shaking her head, “but did you forget who you’re traveling with?”
Jack snort-coughed in the front seat.
“How could I forget?” He winked at her, as if they were sharing a not-so-private joke. “Don’t worry. The service has an impeccable reputation, and Ethan’s done a thorough check of the maintenance logs. I rather think you’ll enjoy the experience if you give it a chance.”
“Assuming we don’t nosedive into the Hudson,” she muttered as the car rolled to a stop at the end of the pier where Ethan stood watch.
“That’s the spirit, love.”
Against her better judgment, she followed Liam’s lead as the bodyguards ushered them into the big white beast, indicating the pilots were already onboard and ready for takeoff. When they were seated inside the helicopter, she had to admit it was nothing like she’d imagined. Perhaps she’d been watching too much TV, because she’d been expecting crappy black jump seats and headsets and no doors. Instead she got buttery white leather, plush carpet, and wood trim.
“Feel better now?” Liam asked, quirking a brow as she took in the cabin’s opulent interior.
“I don’t know, do you think these seats double as a flotation device?” she asked, wrestling with her seatbelt.
“Here, let me get that,” Liam said, deeming her question rhetorical. Joke was on him; she was serious. He reached across her lap and secured the buckle with expert efficiency before tending to his own. It was just another reminder of how different their lives were.
But she didn’t have time to dwell on it, because at that moment the propeller whirred to life and the cabin began to vibrate. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she grabbed Liam’s hand with bone-crushing force, not giving a damn if she left a bruise.
Sweet Jesus. This is a bad idea.
They sat like that for a few minutes and Lena’s heart rate slowed, the melodic chuff-chuff-chuff of the rotor muted by the posh cabin. She was just starting to relax when the helicopter gently pitched backward, as if the front end had left the ground. Then they were floating up, up, up, and she was squeezing her eyes shut as Liam encouraged her to look out the window.
“I’m right here with you, love,” he said, his voice a balm to her frazzled nerves. “You should see your city from above. It’s beautiful.”
At his encouragement, Lena peeked through slitted lids and saw they were skirting along the coastline, the brilliant Manhattan skyline growing smaller with each passing second. Liam was right. Her city was beautiful from the air, and it was almost
enough to ease her fear.
Almost.
She held tight to Liam’s hand for the rest of the ride, taking in the aerial view, enjoying the sunset, and hoping her visit to the capital wouldn’t end in disaster.
…
Pull it the fuck together.
It had been easier to focus on the chopper, with Lena’s anxiety demanding his full attention. Now that they were on the ground and the limo was speeding toward the Caridoso embassy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing astride a house of cards.
One wrong move and the whole damn thing would come crashing down.
It had been a while since he’d played such a high-stakes game, and while he normally thrived on the pressure, it was different this time. He tried to tell himself it was the threat to his crown, but he knew that was only one factor in the stress gnawing at his gut. Their Majesties had been riding his arse about dating “the American,” and no amount of redirection on his part—including his fake girlfriend—had been able to distract them from the fact that he’d yet to select a bride from their preapproved list. The whole point of his relationship with Lena had been to buy himself more time. He’d never imagined it would have the opposite effect, causing his mother to double down on a crown-approved engagement. Fin had been running interference, making excuses for him, but his luck had run out this morning.
His mother had grown tired of his excuses. She’d managed to corner him under the guise of a trade update and demanded he quit messing around. She’d ordered him to break things off with Lena and make his selection.
As if choosing a life partner were as simple as selecting a new suit from a catalog.
He stole a glance at Elena. She was staring out the window, watching the city fly by, her hands folded serenely in her lap. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought her the picture of tranquility. But he did know better, and he knew that on the inside, her nerves were probably stretched as thin as his own at the prospect of the evening ahead, albeit for different reasons.
He’d been honest when he’d said his parents had an antiquated view of the world, but not entirely. How could he possibly expect her to understand their position on marriage when he himself thought it was bollocks? During their short time together, he’d come to care about Elena a great deal, and the last thing he wanted to do was explain that their farce of a relationship had been designed to thwart his parent’s attempts at matchmaking.
It had never occurred to him that it wouldn’t work or that he’d fall for her in the process, complicating matters infinitely.
Besides, explaining would serve only to make her feel inferior, and he would never do anything to make Elena feel she deserved less than the best the world had to offer. She was the most amazing woman he’d ever known, and he didn’t give a damn about her lineage. The only thing he cared about was the way she made him feel—like he was enough—with or without his crown.
Granted, he preferred the crown, which was why he planned to close the trade agreements tonight and focus his energy on the Spartan deal. He’d finally secured a meeting with Michael Beyar and he planned to make the most of it.
Hell, if he could pull this off, it might just solve all his problems.
The car slowed to a crawl and turned in to a curving cement drive that led to a stately three-story limestone mansion surrounded by lush vegetation and a towering wrought iron fence that would keep even the most determined paparazzi at bay.
“I guess this is it,” Elena said, forcing a wobbly smile.
“Just be yourself and they’ll be as taken with you as I am,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to it. He had every confidence she could handle the diplomats with her usual wit and charm. And he didn’t give a damn if a bloody drink or two got spilled as long as he closed the deal.
“And exactly how taken are you?”
Completely. Utterly. Entirely.
“Stay at my place tonight and I’ll show you.”
“Is that a promise?” she asked, arching a brow.
“It’s a guarantee.”
Ethan opened the door and Liam stepped out onto the concrete drive, then turned to help Elena out of the car.
“What a beautiful house,” she said, studying the intricately carved balconettes that decorated the second floor. The home itself was a testament to understated elegance—something the Valerian monarchy had never mastered—but the details were lovely.
“It’s stunning,” he agreed, “but not half as stunning as you.” He brushed his lips across her cheek, and they made their way to the portico.
First business, then pleasure.
The front door swung open and the ambassador greeted them personally. Liam had never met Juan Pereira, but he recognized the man from his headshot.
“Bem vindo! Welcome, Your Royal Highness,” he said, bowing slightly.
“Boa noite,” Liam returned, exhausting his knowledge of the Portuguese language with a simple good evening. He extended his hand and the ambassador gave it a quick shake.
After a brief round of pleasantries, Pereira invited them inside for cocktails, promising dinner would be served shortly. He led them up a sweeping marble staircase to the second-floor drawing room, where several other guests—likely embassy personnel—mingled with the ambassador’s family. Juan did another quick round of introductions, and a server appeared with a tray of wine.
Lena’s face blanched at the sight of the dark liquid, and he could see the panic in her eyes as she no doubt imagined the burgundy liquid finding its way onto the pristine white furniture.
He took the first glass and offered it to her with an encouraging smile. She accepted and gripped the stem so hard it was a wonder the damn thing didn’t snap. Liam helped himself to a glass as well.
Nothing to grease the wheels of a negotiation like a little alcohol.
Liam turned back to Pereira. “Will the Minister of Economy be joining us soon?”
Pereira’s cheeks flushed at the pointed question. He was a politician and recognized a power play when he saw one. Not that Liam gave a damn if the minister showed up late to his own dinner. Being the first to arrive just meant Liam would have an opportunity to get the lay of the land before his quarry made an appearance.
“Yes, the minister should be along shortly,” Pereira said, shifting his weight. “Washington traffic.”
Bollocks. He’d bet his crown the minister was next door at the embassy building. Probably using the extra time to revise the terms of the trade deal.
Elena chuckled, breaking the tension. “New York is one of the greatest cities in the world and we haven’t managed to solve the problem of rush-hour traffic, either. I guess some things are just universal.”
Pereira laughed politely, and Elena steered the conversation toward his duties and tenure as ambassador. Pereira’s wife joined the conversation and Liam tuned them out, nodding and smiling as appropriate, but keeping his eyes fixed on the door, where Jack and Ethan stood, looking bored.
Poor bastards. Probably wishing they could have a drink right about now, too. They’d been putting in long hours on this trip with very little relief. He’d have to give them some downtime when he returned to Valeria. Fin, too. They all sure as hell deserved it.
Come to think of it, he could use a vacation, too.
He glanced at Elena, who was smiling indulgently at the ambassador as he regaled her with stories of his adventures abroad. Perhaps he could take her away somewhere private. Some place where they could spend their days lying in the sun and their nights making love under the stars. It had been ages since he’d had a proper holiday.
They could go to Fiji. The Maldives. Bora Bora. The choices were endless, and the truth was, the destination didn’t matter as long as Elena was by his side.
Of course, his parents would have something to say about it, but it didn’t matter.
He’d figure it out later. Right now, his first priority was closing the trade deal.
“Ah, I see the Minister of Economy has arrived,” Pereira said, gesturing to the entry where an older gentleman stood, surveying the room with a shrewd eye.
Rodrigo Silva was known to be a tough negotiator, and Liam hoped he’d live up to his reputation tonight, because it would make the victory that much sweeter when the deal was done.
Silva turned his way, and a sly smile split his lips as their eyes met.
Game. On.
Chapter Eighteen
Lena smiled and nodded as the Caridoso Minister of Economy, Rodrigo Silva, introduced himself. She didn’t have the first clue what a Minister of Economy did, but it sounded important, and she made a mental note to keep her wineglass as far from him as possible. It was bad enough all the damn furniture was white.
Didn’t these people know they were just begging for a stain?
Clearly they didn’t read the tabloids. If they did, they’d have draped everything in plastic prior to her arrival. Oddly, the realization provided little comfort.
Lena had managed to make small talk with the ambassador and his wife without incident. She could only hope she’d be as lucky when it came to the minister, because it was clear this man was the one Liam had come to see. Lena cursed herself for not asking more questions about tonight’s dinner. She’d been too deep in the throes of post-coital bliss when he’d asked and then she’d been too terrified on the helicopter to think of anything except making it to DC in one piece.
Survival for the win.
It hadn’t helped that Liam had been quiet, too. She’d been shocked to learn his crown could be in jeopardy, but then they’d arrived at the helipad and all thoughts of royal dissent had been erased from her brain. Well, she couldn’t change Valerian politics, but she could stand by her man tonight and do her best not to screw up this deal with her disastrous luck.
A Royal Disaster Page 20