The Princess and the Playboy

Of all the reckless, foolhardy . . . About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN EPILOGUE Copyright

Of all the reckless, foolhardy . . .

Jase’s condemnation of himself was total as he paced the length of the living room at the Martine villa.

From the start he had sensed that the woman wasn’t being honest with him. Letting himself kiss her before he had solved the mystery was the height of stupidity. Now “The Princess and the Playboy in Secret Love Tryst” was the national breakfast-time reading.

“Secret Plot Against Playboy” was more like it, he fumed inwardly. He had fought some tangled corporate battles in his time, but they paled alongside this for deviousness. Talay’s denials had sounded convincing enough, but it was too neat a scheme for him to believe she hadn’t foreseen this outcome.

Valerie Parv has been a successful journalist and nonfiction writer. She began writing for Harlequin Mills & Boon in 1982. Born in Shropshire, England, she grew up in Australia and now lives with her cartoonist husband and their cat—the office manager—in Sydney, New South Wales. She is a keen futurist, a Star Trek enthusiast, and her interests include traveling, restoring dollhouses and entertaining friends. Writing romance novels affirms her belief in love and happy endings.

In The Princess and the Playboy, Valerie Parv has returned to the fictitious realm of Sapphan, which she created in one of her previous titles, A Royal Romance.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

IT WASN’T always easy being a princess, Talay Rasada thought with a sigh. There were so many rules, things you could and couldn’t do, and endless protocol to be followed. ‘If I were an ordinary Sapphan woman I could arrange a meeting with this Jase Clendon and tell him all the reasons his plans are totally unacceptable.’

Her friend, Allie Martine, smiled understandingly. ‘But you are a princess, Talay. Your uncle is probably right. It isn’t good for your public image to be seen around a man with Jase’s reputation with women. What would Luc Armand think, for a start?’

Talay let her flashing eyes betray her opinion. ‘Luc Armand isn’t my keeper, no matter how attractive and highly suitable my uncle thinks he is.’

Allie grew serious. ‘It must be rough, having so many expectations heaped on you.’

‘It goes with being royal,’ Talay accepted, ‘although I’m so far away from the throne that I could be an old maid and nobody would notice.’

‘I’d notice,’ Allie said firmly. ‘This isn’t about being royal. It’s about you and marriage, isn’t it?’ When Talay nodded she went on, ‘When you lost your parents you lost more than anyone should have to bear, but denying yourself love for the rest of your life won’t change what happened.’

‘I know.’

‘So why not give Luc Armand a chance, instead of exhausting yourself fighting battles you can’t hope to win? From what Michael tells me, Jase Clendon does things his way so you’re unlikely to sway him with emotional arguments even if you do get to meet him, which you won’t.’

‘You get to meet him,’ Talay mocked.

Allie sighed. ‘In the first place I don’t belong to the royal family and, in the second, Michael has known Jase for years as they went to the same university in Australia.’

Talay was intrigued. ‘But you’ve not actually met him yet?’

‘No, and I wish I didn’t have to this time. Why must he come to Sapphan now, just when Michael has arranged a second honeymoon for us?’ She gave a dreamy sigh. ‘Paris, imagine. I’ve never been there and, with Jase coming next week, it looks as if it will be a long time before I do.’ She patted the soft curve of her stomach. ‘Once Michael junior arrives there won’t be much time for second honeymoons.’

‘Paris is glorious,’ Talay agreed. ‘I studied jewellery design there for a year and I never tired of the museums, the galleries, the open-air cafés. We have so much French heritage in Sapphan that I felt completely at home.’

‘I envy you. Instead of drinking café au lait at some open-air bistro next week, I’ll be playing hostess here while Michael and Jase discuss business endlessly. With them both. involved in the tourism industry, I probably shan’t get a word in edgewise.’

‘There must be a solution,’ Talay said slowly, but her mind was racing a mile a minute. ‘It’s crazy that you’re being forced to meet Jase Clendon and I can’t when I’m the one who wants to. He can’t possibly be allowed to open one of his three-ring-circus resorts along the Pearl Coast. I’m all for progress, but his plan is inappropriate for one of the most beautiful and unspoiled regions in our country.’

‘They aren’t exactly three-ring-circuses,’ Allie pointed out. ‘All right, they are attractive to the mega-rich, but only because they’re designed with exquisite taste. From what Michael tells me, Jase insists on the best of everything. He prefers locations like the Pearl Coast because they’re remote and exotic.’

‘And they appeal to the jaded tastes of people who’ve seen it all and done it all, like Jase Clendon himself, from what I read,’ Talay stated scornfully. ‘Since he announced his plans for Crystal Bay I keep seeing his picture everywhere.’ Usually on the arm of some stunningly beautiful woman, she recalled. She had even read something about an ex-wife in Australia. Jase’s playboy image was the main reason her ever-protective uncle, King Philippe, had thought it unwise for her to be seen in the man’s company. But maybe she didn’t have to be seen...

‘How much do you want to go to Paris with Michael?’ she asked.

Allie looked puzzled. ‘I’d give anything to go, but it isn’t possible.’

‘Perhaps it is. You say you haven’t actually met Jase Clendon face to face?’

Allie shook her head. ‘He and Michael went to college together then afterwards Michael came here for a holiday, married me and never went home to Australia. Jase has been here before but, for one reason or another, our paths haven’t crossed. He was supposed to attend our wedding, but became shipwrecked in mid-Pacific during an around-the-world yacht race and never made it to the ceremony. Although Michael is as disappointed as me about our second honeymoon, he likes the idea that I’ll finally meet his friend.’

She wandered to a cabinet on which was displayed an assortment of framed photographs. Talay’s graduation photo was among them. Allie picked up the one beside it and handed it to Talay. ‘This was taken last year when Michael and Jase competed in the Sydney to Hobart yacht race.’

The photo showed the two men hauling on ropes on the deck of an ocean-going yacht and Talay felt a jolt of reaction as she looked at the man beside Michael. Allie’s husband was almost six feet tall but Jase was half a head taller with a head of thick wavy hair the colour of burnt toast. Some of it fell across his forehead in a boyishly appealing look. Talay could imagine him constantly brushing it off his face but it would, no doubt, fall back again just as quickly.

Jase’s hair was the only remotely boyish thing about him. In the photo he was soaked to the skin and his crew shirt was plastered over shoulders that looked as if they could carry the weight of the world without flinching. The effect was enhanced by a deeply sculpted chest and muscular arms.

He had eyes the colour of a storm-tossed sea, she also noticed. They gazed out of the photograph right into her own with a familiarity that tugged at her. Had she met him somewhere before? Or was she reacting to the sensual appeal of the man which practically leapt out of the photograph at her?

- She blinked furiously to dispel the sensation. He was the enemy, the man who wanted to plunder her beloved Pearl Coast for commercial gain. How could she think of him in anything but disparaging terms? Still, it was hard to tear her eyes away from his mesmerising sea-green ones. Her throat dried as she imagined meeting him in the flesh. The thought was so overpowering that she put the photo down hastily.

‘Would Michael be put out if Jase Clendon were to change his plans, arriving maybe two weeks later, so you’d have time to go to Paris and return?’

Allie’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you scheming, Talay Rasada, and why do I get the feeling that what you’re about to suggest is conduct unbecoming a princess?’

‘Then I shan’t suggest it. Let’s say I have a strong feeling Jase is about to receive a message about the two-week delay.’

Allie laughed. ‘I get it, you’re going to pull some royal strings to delay him so he can’t get here until after we’ve been to Paris.’

Talay hadn’t thought of that but it was a good idea, and far less daring than what she actually had in mind. She smiled regally. ‘What’s the use of being royal if you can’t occasionally use it to your advantage?’ It was close enough to the truth that it didn’t alert Allie’s suspicions.

Her friend looked relieved. ‘Sometimes it’s great, having royal connections. Do you know, before I met you and we shared a room at boarding school I thought you would be stuck-up and horrible?’

‘And now?’

Allie enveloped her in a hug. ‘You’re one of the sweetest, most caring people I know. Doesn’t the king realise you’re only upset about the resort plans because you care so much about this country?’

‘He cares, too,’ Talay said soberly, ‘but he lives in the capital most of the time. And Andaman is a long way from the Pearl Coast. He’s so used to going everywhere with a great entourage that he doesn’t see what I see—a simple, traditional way of life which may not survive a huge influx of tourism.’

‘I suppose you’ve pointed this out to the king?’

Talay nodded. ‘Who listens to a twenty-six-year-old jewellery designer? I’m not a politician or a member of the cabinet.’

‘But the king did entrust you with chairing the cultural advisory board for this province.’

Talay gave a disdainful sniff. ‘A paper tiger, if you ask me. They put advisory in the title for a good reason, so we don’t get to actually do anything but advise, and the advice isn’t always listened to, as in this instance.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

Talay gave a slow smile. ‘You and Michael go ahead and finalise your second honeymoon plans. I’ll find a way to let Mr Clendon know how I feel.’ As casually as she could, she added as an apparent afterthought, ‘I need somewhere quiet and private to work on some new designs. Can I use your villa while you’re away?’

CHAPTER TWO

JASE CLENDON filled his lungs with the glorious, ginger-scented air that was unique to the island kingdom of Sapphan and tried to relax. It was inconvenient of Michael Martine to be called away on business at the last minute but there wasn’t much either of them could do about it. The same thing had happened to Jase himself often enough.

It was strange of Michael to send a message, rather than calling direct. But it was decent of him to give Jase the run of the villa. As soon as he caught sight of the inviting pool, Jase changed into his swimming gear, intending to make the most of it. A swim was just what he needed to help him adjust to Sapphan time.

He was accustomed to luxury but this was on a scale unknown in Australia. The villa reminded Jase of a small palace, with ancient stone walls, a tropical garden studded with statuary and large, airy rooms with cool slate floors and walls panelled with aromatic eaglewood. The rattan furniture with its hand-printed silk coverings was as comfortable as it was beautiful. Michael had done well for himself, he thought, wandering around the casual living room which opened onto the pool area.

On a dresser stood a collection of family photographs, most of them meaning nothing to Jase. He considered Michael a friend but they gave each other a loose rein. Sometimes they were out of touch for a couple of years but when they got back together it was as if they’d never been apart.

His mouth twisted wryly. Male friendship was something women had trouble understanding. They wanted you there every minute, preferably talking or—more accurately—listening to them, or at least his former wife had. She’d never understood his need for solitude and quiet, a direct legacy of growing up in a boys’ home with dozens of other children who were never quiet.

Jase shrugged off the memory and started to turn away but his attention was caught by one photo in particular. It must be Michael’s wife, whom Jase had yet to meet, and it had been taken at some kind of graduation ceremony. It definitely wasn’t one of Michael’s photographs. For a start, unlike most of Michael’s photographs, you could actually make out the subject, which meant it was Jase’s first really good look at Michael’s wife, Allie.

Studying her, he felt his swimming trunks growing uncomfortably tight. Not only was she gorgeous, she looked out of the picture as if she owned the world. There was something—he searched for a word—regal about her.

Her dark hair fell in a satin curtain halfway down her back. She was tall for a Sapphan woman, judging by the doorframe behind her, and she had a figure like a model, tiny of waist and full...well, full everywhere else. There was also something familiar about her that he couldn’t pin down. It was probably because he’d half seen her a few times in Michael’s blurred attempts at family photography.

Jase’s grin was self-deprecating. Just as well she was married. Michael would laugh himself silly if he could see his friend, poring over a woman’s photograph like a lovesick puppy. If he wasn’t careful his reputation as a playboy would be in jeopardy and he had worked hard to create it It served him too well to drop now.

When you were as successful and wealthy as he had made himself you were fair game for every female for miles, not to mention their fathers, mothers and ugly sisters. His one experience of marriage had convinced him he was a lone wolf, better left to hunt solo. He’d need to watch himself in Sapphan if there were many women as bewitching as Allie Martine.

If she came back early from her week-long expedition to the capital, as Michael’s message had warned him she might, Jase would have to watch himself. Michael had assured him her presence wouldn’t interfere with Jase’s use of the villa, but it didn’t solve the problem of her extraordinary effect on him.

There was another problem, too. The key Michael had sent him didn’t fit the door to the guest pavilion, which he had assumed he was to use. It did fit the main house entrance so Jase had decided to move in there for the time being. If Allie came back while he was still here he would have her unlock the guest pavilion and he’d gladly move out there. Another glance at the photo in his hand warned him it might be wise to keep some distance between himself and Michael’s wife.

He took another leisurely swallow of the strongly flavoured local beer Michael favoured. Jase didn’t mind serving himself, but it was odd to be in such lavish surroundings without any servants. He shrugged inwardly. Maybe it was a Sapphanese custom to give the servants time off when the boss was away.

Outside his air-conditioned cocoon the air steamed. It was the end of the dry season and the humidity levels were starting to build. He finished the beer, returned the glass to the kitchen and threw open the wide doors leading to the pool and waterfall. After his reaction to Allie’s photo he needed to cool off more than ever. He took a running dive into the pool.

His dive cut the water cleanly, his body knifing through the deep water like a torpedo until he surfaced on the far side of the pool, slicking his hair back and gasping for breath. This beat the heck out of cold showers.

Talay heard the sounds of someone in the pool and froze. Now the moment had arrived she was tempted to turn around and flee the house before Jase Clendon discovered her presence. He had accepted without question her message, saying that Michael would be overseas when he arrived. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Allie and Michael were in Paris by now, enjoying their second honeymoon before their baby was due, Michael having also received a message saying Jase’s arrival would be delayed for a couple of weeks.

She hadn’t forged anyone’s signature. She had simply ‘forgotten’ to append any name or signature at all. In these days of faxes and e-mail messages lots of people did. It was a sin of omission, she recognised, but she was desperate enough to try anything.

There was still time to change her mind, she assured herself as she moved cautiously towards the open French doors leading to the pool area. First she would take a look at her adversary.

He wouldn’t hear her over the splashing of the waterfall, but she moved softly until she could see him without being seen. The effect was instant and electrifying. He had levered himself onto the stone rim of the pool and water streamed from muscles she had rarely seen on a male body outside the statues in her uncle’s palace.

Apart from a thin band of salmon-coloured Lycra, clinging to his narrow hips, he was naked, and his Australian tan gleamed in the Sapphanese sun. Straight arms braced wide shoulders and his posture was erect, probably from his experience as a yachtsman, she guessed. His dark hair was slicked back but looked collar-length, an unusual choice for a businessman, she considered, but somehow looked right on him. Like a buccaneer from Sapphan’s far past, or a modern-day pirate.

She sucked in a breath, feeling her heart race. As far as she was concerned, he was a pirate, as dangerous to her beloved coastline and its gentle people as any buccaneer in history. Still, with Jase filling her field of vision, it wasn’t hard to understand how, in times past, women sometimes fell in love with pirates and ran away to sea to spend their lives with them.

Then he lifted his head and shock slammed through her so hard she had to cling to the doorframe for support. Those eyes! She had never met Jase Clendon before, yet the eyes inspecting the surface of the pool looked as familiar as her own in a mirror.

It was crazy, she told herself. Beyond the photograph Allie had shown her, she knew very little about him as a person. As far as she knew, their paths had never crossed. So why was she gripped by an unshakeable sense of familiarity, as if she had chanced across a former lover instead of a complete stranger?

She gave herself a mental shake. He was the enemy, and she had no business allowing foolish fantasies to interfere with her mission.

‘It’s OK, you can come and join me. I don’t bite.’

Lost in a daydream of pirates and plunder, she was startled to hear his voice. It was deeply resonant with a hint of Australian accent, as tauntingly familiar as his eyes, although the source of the feeling remained equally elusive. Shock must have made her betray her presence, and panic whirled through her. She should leave now before she got herself in any deeper. She hadn’t actually spoken to Jase Clendon so maybe Uncle Philippe would excuse her behaviour as female curiosity.

Of course the king hadn’t specifically forbidden her to meet Jase, otherwise she would have felt duty bound to obey. He had advised against it because he considered her committed to Luc Armand. But unless she met Jase Clendon she had no hope of convincing him to change his plans. In any case, she told herself, it wasn’t Her Royal Highness Princess Talay Rasada, meeting Jase Clendon, but Allie Martine, the wife of his old friend. The thought bolstered her failing courage. Gathering her flowered sarong around her, she stepped out of the shadows. ‘Good afternoon. You must be Mr Clendon.’

He got to his feet and moved smoothly around the edge of the pool, coming to stand close beside her and offer his hand. ‘Hello. I take it you’re Michael’s wife, Allie. I recognise you from your photograph.’

The touch of his fingers against her own started a chain reaction of tremors which travelled along her arm and somehow found the vein leading to her heart. Or so it felt ‘My photograph?’ Even though she had put all the pictures of Allie and Michael out of sight Talay was anxious enough to try to tug her hand free, but Jase’s fingers closed around hers.

He nodded. ‘On the dresser inside. Some kind of graduation thing.’

To add to her pretence of being Allie, Talay had left out the picture Allie kept of her. Jase must have seen it and drawn his own interpretation. Instead of making her feel relieved, Talay was disturbed by the success of her deception. ‘It was taken when I got my masters in business administration at the University of Andaman,’ she said, thankful she could be honest about this at least.

‘Brains as well as beauty. I’m impressed.’ Very slowly he drew her hand up to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. When his lips brushed the backs of her fingers she felt a coil of something hot and sensual so deep inside her that it almost eluded conscious awareness. It was the most gentlemanly of greetings, perhaps even old-fashioned, but there was nothing old-fashioned about her response.

He saw the startled reaction she was unable to conceal but misinterpreted it and released her hand. ‘I mustn’t give you the wrong idea about me, Mrs Martine.’

‘Call me Allie, please,’ she invited, horrified by how shaky her voice sounded.

‘And I’m Jase, Allie. No need to look so anxious. I’m sure Michael has filled you in on my...er...reputation with women, and some of it may even be deserved, but married women are strictly off limits, as Michael well knows or he wouldn’t have invited me to stay here while he was away.’

‘Of course.’ But Jase’s honeyed assurance only increased Talay’s alarm. What on earth had she got herself into? She had encouraged Allie to give the servants their holidays, thinking the fewer people around who could give her away the better, but it meant she was entirely alone with Jase.

Even Sam, her devoted bodyguard, had returned home at Talay’s insistence. She had told him she intended to spend the night at the Martine villa, which was true. Luckily, it hadn’t occurred to Sam to check that the Martines were actually in residence. He assumed Talay was safe with their staff, as well as the villa’s extensive security system, until he came to collect her the following afternoon.

She had thought that arranging the meeting would be the hardest part, but actually facing Jase himself was much more challenging than she had anticipated. Her own reaction was the problem, she acknowledged. She simply hadn’t expected the magnetic power of his personality to affect her so strongly. Why hadn’t anyone told her that a man could make her feel over-heated and chilled, confused and empowered, all at the same time?

‘Michael’s message said you were spending a few days in the capital,’ Jase went on. ‘You must be tired after your return journey. Why don’t you join me for a swim? According to your husband, you’re a real water baby who gets into the water at every opportunity.’

Allie was the true water baby. Talay also enjoyed swimming, but the thought of appearing in a swimsuit in front of Jase made her knees weaken. ‘I don’t think so, not today,’ she dissembled.

‘Then I must get dressed and join you inside. Anything else would be impolite,’ he insisted.

Alarm rippled through her. With him in it, the spacious room would seem confining, the walls closer together, the ceiling lower. It was his impressive breadth and height, she accepted, as well as the sheer presence he managed to exude. It was easy to see why he was so successful in business. He radiated the same kind of easy authority as her uncle, the king.