The Duke's Boardroom Affair / Convenient Marriage, Inconvenient Husband: The Duke's Boardroom Affair

Yes, it was time they got to it. Charles took a seat on the couch beside Sophie, rubbing his palms together.

“I gather the news isn’t good,” Ethan said.

“The DNA test confirmed it. She’s the real deal,” Charles told them. “Melissa Thornsby is your illegitimate sister and heir to the throne.”

“We have a sister,” Sophie said, as though trying out the sound of it. Phillip and Hannah remained quietly concerned.

“And here I believed I had the distinction of being the only illegitimate heir to the throne,” Ethan quipped, even though he was the one who had taken the time to investigate their father’s notorious reputation with women, and the possibility of more illegitimate children. But who could have imagined that King Frederick would have been so bold as to not only have an affair with the former prime minister’s wife but to father a child with her? And he never told a soul. Had Ethan not stumbled across a file of newspaper clippings King Frederick had left hidden after his death, they might never have learned the truth.

“She’s older than Phillip?” Lizzy asked.

“Twenty-three days,” Charles said.

Everyone exchanged worried glances, but Hannah broached the subject no one else seemed willing to speak aloud. “Could she take the crown?”

This was the part Charles hadn’t been looking forward to. “Technically? Yes, she could. Half Royal or not, she’s the oldest.”

Hannah frowned. “But she wasn’t even raised here.”

“She was born here, though. She’s still considered a citizen.”

In an uncustomary show of emotion, Phillip cursed under his breath. Losing the crown for him wouldn’t be an issue of status or power. Phillip truly loved his country and had devoted his entire life in the preparation to become its leader. To lose that would devastate him. “We’ll fight it,” he said.

“I don’t think it will come to that,” Charles said. “She doesn’t seem the type to take on the role as the leader of a country. Despite a first-rate education, other than heading up a host of charities, she’s never had a career.”

“As a proper princess wouldn’t,” Phillip said, sounding cautiously optimistic. “Meaning she could very well fit right in.”

“Would she be the type to go after our money?” Sophie asked.

Charles shook his head. “I seriously doubt it.”

“Why?”

“Because she has almost as much money as you do. She inherited a considerable trust from her parents on her twenty-first birthday, and her aunt and uncle left her a fortune. She’s at the top of the food chain in New Orleans high society.”

“How did she take the news?” Hannah asked.

“According to the attorney, it was definitely a shock, but she’s eager to meet everyone. So much so that she’s dropping everything so that she can move here. Temporarily at first. Then she’ll decide if she wants to stay.”

“Her place is here with her family,” Sophie said.

“We can’t force her to stay,” Lizzy pointed out.

“True,” Hannah said, looking pointedly at Phillip. “But if we make her feel welcome she’ll be more inclined to.”

It was no secret that when Ethan joined the family, Phillip had been less than welcoming to his half brother. But in Phillip’s defense, Ethan had gone out of his way to be difficult. Since then, they had put their differences aside and now behaved like brothers. Not that they didn’t occasionally butt heads.

“When will she come?” Phillip asked.

“Saturday.”

“We’ll need to see that a suite is prepared,” Sophie said. “I suggest housing her in the guest suite at first, with restricted privileges to the residence.”

“I agree,” Phillip said. “Lizzy, can you please handle the details?”

Lizzy nodded eagerly. Going from full-time employment to royal status had been rough for her. And despite a somewhat trying pregnancy, she was always looking for tasks to keep her busy until the baby arrived. “I’ll take care of it immediately.”

Phillip turned to Sophie, who handled media relations. “We’ll have to issue a press release immediately. I don’t want to see a story in the tabloids before we make a formal announcement.”

Sophie nodded. “I’ll see that it’s done today.”

“Speaking of the tabloids,” Alex said, “you know they’re going to be all over this. And all over her.” Having recently been a target of the media himself when his ex-wife fed them false information about his relationship with the princess, he knew how vicious they could be.

“She’ll be instructed on exactly what she should and shouldn’t say,” Charles assured him. “Although given her position in society, I don’t think handling the press will be an issue.”

“I’d like to keep this low-key,” Phillip said, then he rose from his seat, signaling the end of the meeting. “Keep us posted.”

Hannah tugged on his sleeve. “Are you forgetting something, Your Highness?”

He looked down at his wife and smiled. “You’re sure you want to do this now?”

She nodded.

He touched her cheek affectionately, then announced, with distinct happiness and pride, “Hannah is pregnant.”

Everyone seemed as stunned as they were excited.

Sophie laughed and said, “My gosh! You two certainly didn’t waste any time. Frederick is barely three months old!”

Hannah blushed. “It wasn’t planned, and I only just found out this morning. We’d like to keep it quiet until closer to the end of my first trimester. But I was too excited not to tell the family.”

“I think it’s wonderful,” Lizzy said, a hand on her own rounded belly. She shot Sophie a meaningful glance. “At this rate we’ll have the palace filled with children in no time.”

Sophie emphatically shook her head. “Not from me you won’t. Alex and I have already discussed it and decided to wait until he’s not traveling back and forth to the States so much.”

“You say that now,” Lizzy teased. “Things have a way of not working out as you plan.”

She would know. Her pregnancy had been an unplanned surprise. She’d gone from palace employee to royal family member with one hasty but genuinely happy I do.

“What about Charles?” Sophie said, flashing him a wry grin. “He’s not even married yet. Why not pick on him?”

“When it comes to marriage,” Phillip said, sounding only slightly exasperated, “yet is not a word in Charles’s vocabulary.”

Phillip was absolutely right. And this was not a conversation Charles cared to have any part of. The last thing he needed was the entire family meddling in his love life.

“Wow,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “Would you look at the time. I should be going.”

“What’s the matter, Charles?” Sophie asked. “Have you got a hot date?”

In fact he did. Even though the “date” in question didn’t know it yet.

Phillip just grinned. “If you hear anything else from Melissa or her attorney, you’ll let us know?”

“Of course.” He said the obligatory goodbyes, then made a hasty retreat out into the hall. Before he could escape the residence, Ethan called after him.

“Charles, hold up a minute.” He wore a concerned expression, which was enough to cause Charles concern himself. Ethan was one of the most easygoing people he knew.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

Ethan paused for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. “I guess there’s really no tactful way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. The family is asking, as a personal favor, that you not have an affair with Victoria.”

For an instant, Charles was too stunned to speak. Then all he could manage was “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Yes, he had. But he must have been mistaken. He’d devoted his life to his family, true, but that didn’t give them the right to dictate who he could or couldn’t sleep with. “What are you suggesting, Ethan?”

Ethan lowered his voice. “I don’t have to suggest anything. It’s common knowledge that the employees you sleep with don’t last. Normally that isn’t a problem because they’re your personal employees, and how you run your firm is your own business. But Victoria is an employee of the royal family, as are you, and as such, policy states there can be no personal relationship. If we can convince her to stay, her expertise will be a great asset to the Royal Inn. That isn’t likely to happen if you and she become…intimately involved.”

“That’s a little hypocritical coming from you,” Charles said. “Seeing as how you knocked up a palace employee.”

It was a cheap shot, but the arrow hit its mark.

Ethan’s expression darkened. “Make no mistake Charles, this is something the entire family is asking. Not just me.”

And what if Charles said no? What if he slept with her and she refused to stay? Would he be ousted as the family attorney? “This sounds a bit like a threat to me.”

“It’s nothing more than a request.”

Though only a cousin, Charles had always been an integral part of the royal family. For the first time in his life he felt like an outsider.

And he didn’t like it.

“Do whatever it takes to make her stay,” Ethan said, and there was a finality to his words that set Charles even deeper on edge.

“I need to go fetch my assistant,” Charles told him, then he turned and left before he said something he might later regret.

He found Victoria in the main business office with one of the secretaries. For the life of him he couldn’t remember her name. She was explaining the phone and security system to Victoria. As he approached they both looked up at him.

“Finished already?” Victoria asked.

Charles nodded. “Ready to go?”

“Sure.” She thanked the secretary, whose name still escaped him, grabbed her purse, and followed Charles out. She practically had to jog to keep up with his brisk, longer stride. He led her out the back way this time, where she would come and go should the position ever call for her coming back to the palace.

“Meeting not go well?” she asked from behind him, as they passed the kitchen.

“What makes you think that?”

“You’re awfully quiet. And you seem to be in a terrible rush to leave,” she said, sounding a touch winded.

He made an effort to slow his pace. It wasn’t the meeting itself that was troubling him. That had gone rather well, all things considered. “It was fine,” he said.

The car was waiting for them when they stepped out of the back entrance. They got in, and he almost directed the driver to take them back to the office, but then he remembered that he was treating Victoria to dinner.

Instead he told him, “The Royal Inn.”

“Why are we going to the Royal Inn?” she asked.

“I’m taking you to Les Régal De Rois for dinner,” he said. He expected an argument or an immediate refusal. Instead she just looked amused, which rubbed his already frayed nerves.

“Is that an invitation?” she asked.

“No. Just a fact.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yep.”

“What about my car?”

“It’ll be fine in the parking garage overnight. I’ll arrange for my car to pick you up in the morning.”

She mulled that over, looking skeptical. He steeled himself for the inevitable argument. In fact, he was looking forward to it. He needed a target to vent a little steam. Even though he was supposed to be convincing her to stay, not using her for target practice.

Instead she said, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll go to dinner with you, but only if I get to choose the restaurant.”

He shrugged. “All right.”

“And you have to let me pay.”

Absolutely not. He never let women pay. It had been hammered into him from birth that it was a man’s duty—his responsibility—to pick up the check. As far as his mother was concerned, chivalry was alive and kicking.

“Considering your current employment status, it might be wise to let me cover it,” he said.

She folded her arms across her chest. “Let me worry about that.”

Would it hurt to let her think she was paying? But when it came time to get the bill, he would take it. It’s not as if she would wrestle it out of his hand. At least, he didn’t think she would. She may have been independent, but he knew from experience that deep down, all women loved to be pampered. They liked when men held doors and paid the check. Expected it, even.

“Fine,” he agreed.

She leaned forward and instructed the driver to take them to an unfamiliar address in the bay area. For all he knew she could be taking him to a fast-food establishment.

The driver looked to Charles for confirmation, and he nodded.

What the heck. He was always up for an adventure.

Six

It wasn’t a fast food restaurant.

It was a cozy, moderately priced bistro tucked between two upscale women’s clothing stores in the shopping district. The maître d’ greeted Victoria warmly and Charles with the proper fuss afforded royalty, then seated them at a table in a secluded corner. It was quiet and intimate and soaked in the flickering glow of warm candlelight. Their waiter appeared instantly to take their drink orders—a white wine for Victoria and a double scotch for him—then he listed the specials for the evening.

“I recommend the prime rib,” Victoria said, once he was gone.

Charles drew the line at letting his date order for him, and he used the term date very loosely. Besides, his encounter with Ethan had pretty much killed his appetite.

“I take it you come here often,” he said.

“I love this place,” Victoria said with a smile. An honest to goodness, genuine smile. And the force of it was so devastating it nearly knocked him backward out of his chair. She might not have smiled often, but it was certainly worth the wait.

The waiter reappeared only seconds later with their drinks. Charles took a deep slug of scotch, relishing the smooth burn as it slid down his throat and spread heat through his stomach. Three or four more of these and he would be right as rain, but he’d never been one to find solace in a bottle.

Victoria took a sip of her wine, watching him curiously. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you.” She propped her elbow on the table, dropped her chin in her hand, and gazed across the candlelight at him, her eyes warm, her features soft in the low light.

She really was stunning. And not at all the sort of woman he was typically attracted to. But maybe that was the appeal. Maybe he was tired of the same old thing. Maybe he needed to spice things up a bit.

The family had put the kibosh on that, though, hadn’t they? And since when did he ever let anyone tell him whom he could or couldn’t pursue?

“What makes you think something is bothering me?”

“That’s why I agreed to dinner,” she said. “You looked as though you needed a sympathetic ear.”

She certainly looked sympathetic, which for some reason surprised him. He never imagined her having a soft side. But he wasn’t one to air his troubles. Although, would it hurt to play the pity card this one time? And maybe, in the process, do his job and convince Victoria to stay with the hotel?

He pulled in a deep, contemplative breath, then blew it out. “Family issues,” he said, keeping it cryptic. Baiting her. But if he expected her to try to drag it out of him, boy, had he been wrong.

She just sat there sipping her wine, waiting for him to continue.

He dropped another crumb. “Suffice it to say that the family wasn’t happy to hear that you’re not staying with the Royal Inn.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’ve been instructed to do whatever it takes to convince you to stay.”

If she was flattered, it didn’t show on her face. “But that isn’t what’s bothering you,” she said.

Who was baiting whom here?

Though he’d had no intention of telling her what was really said, he supposed that if anyone could understand a backstabbing, meddling family, it was her.

“I’ve been asked by the family not to pursue you socially.”

A grin tipped up the corners of her mouth. “In other words, don’t sleep with me.”

Her candor surprised him a little, but then, what did she have to lose? This was only a temporary position for her. “That was the gist of it, yes.”

“And that upsets you?”

“Wouldn’t it upset you?”

“I suppose. But then, I don’t have a notorious reputation for sleeping with my employees.”

He couldn’t help but wonder where she’d heard that. “According to whom?”

“The girls in the palace office talk.”

He couldn’t exactly deny it, but still he felt…offended. Whom he dated was no one’s concern. Especially the girls in the office. “What else did the girls have to say about me?”

“Are you sure you want to know?”

Did he? Did it even matter? When had he ever cared what people thought of him?

But curiosity got the best of him. “I’m a big boy. I think I can handle it.”

“They told me that your assistants never last more than a few weeks.”

Again, he couldn’t deny it. But that was just the nature of business. Assistants’ positions notoriously had a high turnover rate. Most were overworked and underpaid.

Were the girls in the office taking that into account?

Not to say that he was an unfair employer. But he didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

“And I’m not your usual type.”

“I have a type?”

“Tall, leggy, impressed by your power and position.”

Could he help that people were impressed by his title?

“Oh, and they told me that you objectify women,” she added. “But I already knew that.”

Wait, what? He objectified women? “No, I don’t.”

She looked a little surprised by his denial. “Yes, you do.”

“I have nothing but respect for women. I love women.”

“Maybe that’s part of the problem.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” And why did he even care what she thought of him?

“This is upsetting you,” she said. “Maybe we should just drop it.”

“No. I want to know how it is that I objectify women.”

She studied him for a minute, then asked, “How many different women have you dated in the last month?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Humor me.”

“Eight or ten, maybe.” Maybe more. In fact, if he counted the casual encounters in bars or clubs that led back to his bedroom, that number was probably closer to fifteen. But that didn’t mean anything. Wanting to play the field, not wanting to settle down yet, did not equate into disrespect for the opposite sex.

“What were their names?” she asked.

That one stopped him. “What do you mean?”

“Their names. The women you dated. They had names, right?”

“Of course.”

“So, what were they?”

He frowned. That was a lot of names. Faces he could remember, or body types. Hair color, even eye color. Names he wasn’t so good with.

“I’ll make it easy for you. Of the last twenty girls you dated, give me three names,” she said.

Three names? What about the blonde from the bar last week. The bank teller with the large and plunging…portfolio. It was something simple. A J name. Jenny, Julie, Jeri. Or maybe it was Sara.

He was usually pretty good under pressure, but now he was drawing a blank.

“You can’t do it, can you?” Victoria said, looking pleased with herself. “Here’s an easy one. How about your last assistant? What was her name?”

Now this one he knew. Tall, brunette. Low, sultry voice…

It was right there, on the tip of his tongue.

“Oh, come on,” she said. “Even I know this.”

He took a guess, which he knew was probably a bad idea. “Diane.”

“Her name was Rebecca.”

“Well, she looked like a Diane to me.” Mostly he’d just called her honey, or sweetheart, so he wouldn’t have to remember her name. Because after a while they all just sort of bled together. But that didn’t mean anything.

She shook her head. “That’s really sad.”

“So I’m not great with names. So what?”

“Name the last five male clients you met with.”

They popped into his head in quick succession. One after the other, clear as if he’d read them on a list. And though he said nothing, she could read it in his expression.

The smile that followed was a smug one. “Easier, isn’t it?”

He folded his arms across his chest, not liking the direction this was taking. “What’s your point?”

“You remember the men because you respect them. You see them as equals. Women on the other hand exist only for your own personal amusement. They’re playthings.”

Though his first reaction was to deny the accusation, it was an interesting…hypothesis. And one he had no desire to contemplate at that particular moment, or with her.

He downed the last of his drink and signaled the waiter for the check. “We should go.”

“We haven’t eaten yet.”

“I have to get an early start in the morning.”

Her smug smile grew, as though she was feeding off his discomfort. To make matters worse, before he could take the bill from the waiter, she snatched it up. “My treat, remember?”

There didn’t seem much point in arguing. And since it was only drinks, he would let her have her way this once.

She paid in cash, leaving a generous tip considering they hadn’t even eaten, then they rose from their chairs and walked in silence to the door. The car was already waiting for them out front.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

“You don’t want a ride?”

She shook her head. “No, thanks.”

“It’s quite chilly.”

“I’m just a few blocks from here. I could use the fresh air.”

“I’ll walk you,” he said, because God forbid she would also accuse him of not being a gentleman.

“No, I’m fine,” she said, with a smile. “But I appreciate the offer.”

There was something very different about her tonight. He’d never seen her so relaxed. So pleasant and…happy.

At his expense, no doubt.

“See you tomorrow at the office.” She turned to walk away, but made it only a step or two before she stopped and turned back. “By the way, have you decided what to do?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your family? Not pursuing me. Will you listen to them?”

Good question. And despite all the hemming and hawing and claims that no one could tell him who he could or couldn’t see, he had an obligation to the family. Ultimately, there was really only one clear-cut answer.

He shrugged. “I don’t really have much choice.”

“Well, in that case…”

Another one of those grins curled her mouth. Playful, bordering on devious, and he had the distinct impression that she was up to no good.

She stepped closer, closing the gap between them, then reached up with one hand and gripped his tie. She gave it a firm tug, and he had no choice but to lean over—it was that or asphyxiation. And when he did, she rose up on her toes and kissed him. A tender, teasing brush of her lips against his own.

Before he could react, before he could cup the back of her head and draw her in for more, it was over. She had already let go of his tie and backed away. His lips burned with the need to kiss her again. His hands ached to touch her.

He wanted her.

“What was that for?” he asked.

She shrugged, as though she accosted men on the street on a regular basis. “Just thought you should know what you’re missing.”

Victoria knew that kissing Charles was a really bad idea, but he had looked so adorably bewildered by their conversation in the restaurant, so hopelessly confused, she hadn’t been able to resist. She thought it would be fun to mess with his head, knock him a little further off base. But what she hadn’t counted on, what she hadn’t anticipated, was the way it would make her feel.

She’d kissed her share of men before, but she felt as though, for the first time in her life, she had really kissed a man. It was as if a switch in her brain had been flipped and everything in her being was saying, He’s the one.