Читать книгу The Montoros Affair: The Princess and the Player / Maid for a Magnate / A Royal Temptation - Charlene Sands - Страница 10

Five

James cornered Will in his Rowling Energy office at 9:05 a.m. This was the earliest James could recall being awake, dressed and out of the house in quite some time. But this cat-and-mouse game had grown tiresome, and the man who shared his last name, his blood and once upon a time, had even shared a womb, had the power to end it.

“Will.”

James didn’t cross the threshold out of respect for the fact that he was on his brother’s turf. Instead, he waited for him to glance up from his report. Will’s expression remained composed, though James caught a flash of surprise in the depths of his gaze, which the Master of Calm quickly banked.

“Yes?”

And now they’d officially exchanged two words this week. Actually, James couldn’t remember the last time they had talked. They’d never been close. Hell, they were rarely on the same continent, but that wasn’t really the reason. The divide had started the night their mum died and grown exponentially over the years.

“We have to talk. Can I come in?”

“Since you’re here already, I suppose.” Will’s long-suffering sigh said he deserved a medal for seeing James on such short notice.

James bit back the sarcasm strictly because he was the one with the mission, though his brother’s condescension pricked at his temper. The brothers would never see eye to eye, though why James cared was beyond him.

They’d taken different paths in dealing with the single most defining year of their lives, Will choosing to compensate for the loss of everything familiar by becoming whatever their father said, as long as the remaining parent paid attention to him.

James compensated for his mother’s death by lashing out at his father, refusing to forgive the ultimate crime—though James could never run far enough or get into enough trouble to drown out the sound of his own conscience. While he’d never forgive his father for driving his mum out into the rainy night, back in the deepest reaches of his soul, he blamed himself more.

Because he’d heard them arguing and hadn’t done anything. What if he’d run out of his hiding place to grab on to his mum and beg her not to leave? She wouldn’t have. He knew she wouldn’t have. But she’d probably assumed both her boys were asleep. One of them had been.

James took a deep, not at all calming breath as he settled into one of the wingback chairs flanking Will’s desk. “It’s about Bella.”

“Ms. Montoro? What about her?”

James rolled his eyes. “Well, I was going to ask how serious you are about her, but that pretty much told me.”

“How serious I...” Will’s gaze narrowed. “You’ve got the hots for her.”

That didn’t begin to describe what had happened on the terrace last night. Or every moment since the princess had blinked up at him with those big eyes after upending his world. “If you’re determined to see this arranged marriage through, I won’t stand in your way.”

Steepling his hands, Will sat back in his chair, contemplating James carefully. “Really? That’s a first.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“When was the last time you considered anyone above yourself? Especially when a woman is involved.”

James was halfway out of his seat before he checked himself. Fisting his hand in his lap as he sat back down, he forced a smile. “I won’t apologize for looking out for myself. No one else does. But I will concede the point. This woman is different.”

He nearly choked on the words he hadn’t consciously planned to say. But it was true. Bella wasn’t like anyone else he’d ever met.

Smirking, Will nodded once. “Because she’s earmarked for me.”

Is that what he thought this was about? That James had come to Will in a fit of jealousy?

“Earmarked? Is that how you talk about her? Bella’s a person, not a pile of money.”

The nerve. Will had spent too much time in budget meetings if he equated a flesh-and-blood woman with reserve funds.

“Yes. But surely you realize we’re talking about an arranged marriage. It’s a form of currency, dating back to the dawn of time. No one is under a different impression.”

James had a sick sort of realization that what Will described was probably quite right. Two fathers had struck a deal, bargaining away their children’s future with no thought to what could or should go into a marriage decision. Namely, the desires of the bride and groom in question.

If he didn’t miss his guess, Will accepted that. Embraced it. Thought it was a brilliant idea.

If James had known this was the case, he’d have taken Bella straight to his room last night and skipped the formality of giving his brother a heads-up that things had changed. “Bella has a different impression. She’s not interested in being bought or sold.”

Will eyed him thoughtfully. “Why hasn’t she come to me herself?”

“Because this is between you and me, brother. She didn’t want to get into the middle of it.” Which he fully appreciated, whether Will did or not. James had to look at himself in the mirror for the rest of his life and he’d prefer not to see his own guilty conscience staring back at him. “And she won’t. Neither will I allow her to. If you say you’re planning to pursue this ridiculous idea of aligning Rowling Energy to the Montoros through marriage, so be it. Just be sure you treat her like a princess.”

Maybe James wasn’t done being noble after all. He’d fully expected to walk in here and demand that Will release Bella from their fathers’ agreement. But somehow he’d wound up caring more about Bella and how she was being marginalized than whether he’d cleared the way to sleep with her.

“I see.” Comprehension dawned in Will’s gaze. “You’re the reason she left the party so quickly last night. Last I knew, she’d gone out on the terrace for some air, and the next, she’d begged off with a headache.”

“I’m sorry,” James said earnestly. “I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. But Bella deserves better than to be thought of as currency. She’s funny and incredible and—”

He broke off before he said something he couldn’t take back, like she’s the hottest kisser I’ve ever met. Somehow, he didn’t think that would go over well.

“You’ve got it bad.” Will didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Never would have thought I’d see the day. She’s really got you wrapped, doesn’t she?”

As if Bella called the shots or something? James tried to do the right thing one time and all he got was grief.

“She’s important,” James growled. “That’s all.”

Will grinned mischievously, looking more like Mum than he usually did. “Ha. I wouldn’t be surprised if you proposed to her before her brother’s coronation.”

“Propose? You mean ask her to marry me?” Ice slid down James’s spine and he threw up a hand to stave off the rest of Will’s outpouring of madness. “That’s not what’s going on here. We’re just... I’m not... It’s that I didn’t want to poach on your territory. It’s not sporting.”

“Gabriella. Paulinha. Abril.” Ticking them off on his fingers, Will cocked his head. “I think there was another one, but her name escapes me.”

Revisionist history of the worst kind. “If I recall, Abril went home with you. Despite the fact that I saw her first.”

“But that’s my point. We’ve competed over women in the past. But you have never come to me first.” Will’s phone rang, but he ignored the shrill buzz. “We’ve always subscribed to the may-the-best-man-win philosophy. So obviously Bella is the one.”

Yeah, the one James wanted in his bed. That was it. Once they burned off the blinding attraction, they’d part amicably. “No way. You’re reading into this.”

An even worse thought occurred to him then. Did Bella think there was more going on here? Like maybe James wanted to take Will’s place in the diabolical bridal bargain their fathers had struck? Surely not. There’d been plenty of flirting, and lots of use of the word naked. But no one had said anything about being serious.

Will shook his head, a smile still tugging at his lips. “I don’t think so. Put your money where your mouth is.”

“A bet? Seriously?” All the long hours in the service of Patrick Rowling’s ego had obviously pickled his brother’s brain.

“As a heart attack.” Nodding at James’s wrist, he pursed his lips for a beat. “Grandfather’s watch. That’s how bad I think you’ve got it. If you propose to Bella before Gabriel Montoro takes the throne, you give it to me, free and clear.”

James laughed. “You are so on.”

What a stupid thing to ask for. Will knew how much James loved his grandfather’s watch. It was one of the few mementos from England that James had left, and Grandfather had given it to him on his eighteenth birthday. Losing it was not happening. Proposing to Bella was not happening, before the coronation or after.

Sucker’s bet. James rubbed his hands together gleefully. “If I don’t propose, then what? Make this worth my while.”

“I’ll come up with something.”

James and Will shook on it.

“So this means the arranged marriage is totally off, right?” No point in going through all of this just to find out Will was toying with him.

“Totally off.”

A glint in his brother’s eye caught his crossways. “You were never interested in her.”

“Never,” Will confirmed solemnly. “Bella’s got all the right parts and everything, and she would have opened up some interesting possibilities for Rowling. But she’s not my type. I’m fine with cancelling the whole agreement.”

Not his type. That was insane. How could Bella not be every red-blooded man’s type? “You’ll talk to Father?”

“Sure. It’s better coming from me anyway. Now get out so I can run this company.”

James got out. He had a naked princess in his future after all.

* * *

Bella’s eyes started to ache after thirty minutes of trying to read the tiny map print.

“I give up,” she muttered and switched off the lamp adorning her bedside table.

All of the words were in Spanish anyway. How was she supposed to use this map Alex Ramon’s assistant had given her to find the farmhouse Tía Isabella had mentioned?

When Bella had asked Rafael about it, he sent her to speak with Alex Ramon, Alma’s deputy prime minister of commerce. His assistant helped her scour the royal archives until they found one solitary mention of the abandoned farmhouse in a long list of Montoro holdings. But there was little to go on location-wise other than Aldeia Dormer, the name of a tiny village.

At least Mr. Ramon’s assistant had managed to find the key to the property tucked away in a filing cabinet, a real plus. Assuming the key still worked, that was.

Now she just had to find the farmhouse. Tía Isabella’s urgency had taken root, not to mention a healthy dose of curiosity about how an old farmhouse counted as part of a legacy. There was no way Bella would actually give up.

Plus, finding the farmhouse was a project, her gift to Isabella. Bella needed a local with plenty of time on his hands and access to a vehicle to help her scour the countryside for this farmhouse. And who didn’t mind ditching her babysitters-slash-security guys.

Her phone rang. She glanced at it and frowned at the unfamiliar number. That was the second time today and the first caller had been Will. Dare she hope this might be the brother she’d rather talk to? “Hello?”

“You haven’t been to the beach all day.” James’s smooth voice slid through her like silk.

“Was I supposed to be at the beach?” With a wide grin, she flipped over on her back to stare at the ceiling above her bed, completely uninterested in cryptic maps now that she had a much better distraction.

“How else am I supposed to run into you?” he pointed out. “You never gave me your phone number.”

Because he’d never asked. “Yet it appears I’m speaking to you on the phone at this very minute.”

“A bloke has to be resourceful around this island if he wants to ask a princess out on a date. Apparently.”

A little thrill burst through her midsection. After walking away from James at the party, she’d mentally prepared for any eventuality. A woman didn’t get between brothers, and James, for all his squawking about being a bad boy, wouldn’t have pursued her if Will had called dibs.

And then there was always the possibility James would grow weary of all the obstacles between them. She didn’t have any guarantees she’d even hear from him again.

“This is your idea of resourceful? What did you do, hit up Will for my phone number?”

James cleared his throat. “I talked to him. About us.”

That was pretty much an admission of how he’d gotten her number. “Yeah. He told me.”

“Well, half my battle is won. My day will be complete if you would kindly get your gorgeous rear down to the beach.”

Scrambling from the bed, Bella tore off her shorts as she dashed for the dresser and wedged the phone under her chin to pull out a bikini. “What if I’m busy?”

“Cancel. In fact, cancel everything for the rest of the day.”

The rest of the day with James? She was so on board with that plan, she could hardly keep the giddiness in check. But she couldn’t let him know how much she was into him. That was rule number one.

“You’ll have to give me more than that in order for me to clear my schedule.” She whipped her shirt off one-handed, knocking the phone to the floor. She cursed and dove for it. “I’m American. We invented high-maintenance dating. Make it worth my while.”

Head tight to her shoulder so the phone didn’t try another escape attempt, she wiggled out of her underwear.

“Trust me, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ve been all over the world. I’m more than capable of handling one tiny American. If you want to find out how worth it I am, walk out the door.”

“I’m not dressed,” she informed him saucily. Even someone as fashion savvy as Bella couldn’t tie a bikini with one hand. And for some reason, now that he knew she was naked, it was an oddly effective turn-on.

“Perfect,” he purred. “I like a woman who can read my mind. What am I thinking right now?”

If it was anything close to what she was thinking, a public beach was not the best place for them to be together. “You’re thinking that you’d better hang up so I can, you know, leave the house.”

His laugh rolled through her and then cut off abruptly as the call ended. She hummed as she threw on her bikini and covered it with a short dress made of fishnet weave.

She hit the foyer in under three minutes and almost escaped without her security detail noticing her stealthy exit, when she heard the voice of doom call out behind her.

“Isabella.”

Groaning, she turned to face her father since the cover up was just as see-through from the front as the back. The faster she withdrew from his clutches, the better. “Yeah, Dad.”

“I understand you told Will Rowling you weren’t interested in him. I’m very disappointed.”

Of course he was. He’d have to smooth things over with Patrick Rowling and figure out another way to make everyone miserable.

“That’s me. The disappointing daughter,” she admitted lightly, hoping if she kept her cool, the extraction might go faster. She had a man waiting patiently for her on the beach.

“You cannot continue behaving this way. Marriage to Rowling will settle you and nothing else seems to work to that end. You must repair your relationship with him.”

His hand flew up to staunch the protest she’d been about to voice.

“No, Isabella. This is a serious matter, among other serious matters I must discuss with you. However, I’m expected to accompany Gabriel to a royal function. Be here when I get back,” her father commanded.

“Sure, Dad.” She fled before he could tell her when he’d be back because then she could claim ignorance when she wasn’t here.

Her stomach tightened as she walked down the narrow cliffside stairs to the beach. Why couldn’t she have timed that better? The encounter put a damper on the joy she’d had since the moment she’d heard James’s voice.

When her toes sank into the sand, she scoured the sun-worshippers for a glimpse of the whipcord physique she couldn’t erase from her mind. James was easy to spot in a turquoise shirt that shielded his British complexion from the rays. Sunglasses covered his beautiful eyes and as always, he wore the expensive watch he never seemed to leave home without. He lay stretched out on a towel off to the side of the crowd, lounging in his own little cleared area.

“Thought you’d never get here,” he commented when she flopped down next to him. He paused and whipped off his glasses to focus on her intently. “What’s wrong?”

How bad was it that he made her so mushy just by noticing that she was a little upset? “Nothing. My father.”

“Say no more.” James shook his head and sat up to clasp her hand in his, squeezing it once. “I’ve been avoiding mine since the pictures hit.”

“What pictures?”

“You don’t know?” When she shook her head, he rubbed his face with his free hand. “Someone snapped us with me on top of you when you tripped over my chair the other day. We were on the front page of the Playa Del Sol newspaper. And probably all the other ones, too. I’m sorry, I figured you’d seen them. Or had a confrontation with your father about them.”

Oh, that explained a lot, especially Rafael’s use of his boardroom voice. “I learned the hard way to never search my name on the internet, so no, I haven’t seen the pictures. And I think I just narrowly missed that confrontation. The one I had was bad enough, but fortunately, he was too busy to give me a proper talking to. I’m supposed to be home when he gets back so I can obediently listen to his lecture. Oops.”

James flashed a quick grin. “You’re my kind of woman.”

“We seem to have a flagrant disregard for authority in common, don’t we?”

“When it makes sense,” James corrected. “You’re not sixteen. You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices. If you want to be with me, you should get that opportunity, authority figures aside.”

As much as she liked his point, she was still a member of the royal family and the idea of smarmy pictures floating around upset her, especially when the actual event had been so innocuous.

“So we’re both rebels, but only when presented with pigheaded fathers?”

“Exactly.” His thumb smoothed over hers and he had yet to return his sunglasses to their perch over his eyes. The way he was looking at her, as if he understood her so perfectly, they didn’t even need words—it took a massive amount of willpower to not throw herself into his arms.

Why were they outside in plain sight again? Her babysitters could lumber down the stairs from the house at any moment, squelching what promised to be an adventurous day.

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind for our first date,” she remarked with an exaggerated glance around. “Too many people and I’m pretty sure I remember something about getting naked. I readily admit to bucking authority when called for, but I am not a fan of sand in certain places. What shall we do about that?”

James’s blue eyes went sultry and he gripped her hand tighter. “A little bird told me you were high maintenance, so I was going to take you to dinner later at Casa Branca in Del Sol. But I see the huge gaping flaw in that plan since you would indeed have to be dressed for that.”

“It’s also pretty public. I’d love to escape prying eyes, security details and cameras for at least one night.” She frowned. Was nowhere sacred enough to spend time with a man she was just getting to know without fear of creating a whole brand-new scandal? “Can we go back to your place?”

They certainly couldn’t go to hers, not with the royal lecture pending.

“Ha.” James rolled his eyes, turning them a myriad of blues in the sunlight. “I can only imagine dear old Dad’s aneurism when I walk through the front door with you.”

No, neither of them were sixteen but it felt that way when they couldn’t even find a place to be alone without overbearing parents around. So it was time for an adult solution.

“New plan,” Bella chirped. “I’ve heard a rumor of an abandoned farmhouse that’s part of our family’s royal property. But I don’t know where it is. I need someone with a car and a good knowledge of the roads in Alma to help me find it. Know anyone like that who’s also free to drive around with me?”

“James’s Abandoned Farmhouse Locators, at your service.” He bowed over her hand with mock ceremony. “Let’s plan on making a night of it. We’ll get some takeout. Do you want to run back upstairs to grab a few things?”

“Give me five minutes.” She mentally packed an overnight bag. Had she brought that smoking hot lingerie set she hadn’t worn yet?

“Four.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “That bikini is killing me. I want to untie it with my teeth and take a good hard look at what’s underneath. Then my mouth will be busy getting acquainted with every inch of your naked body.”

She shuddered as his words lanced through her core with a long tug. “I’ll be back in three.”