Читать книгу The Simply Scandalous Princess - Michele Dunaway - Страница 11

The next day Lucia Carradigne was late for her interview.

Harrison paced the plush office allotted him during his stay at Korosol’s American embassy. Knowing he’d be seeing her again, he’d dressed even more impeccably than usual for the meeting. He wore a navy blue suit, a tie with the Korosolan crest and a white starched shirt.

Ellie had joked that morning that she’d never seen Harrison looking that put together. He’d run across Markus that morning as well, who since his return from Europe had been lurking around the embassy more than ever. Markus, of course, never missed an opportunity to dig at Harrison. He’d told Harrison he looked like a pallbearer.

Harrison glanced again at his Rolex, a gift from King Easton commemorating twenty-five years of service to the royal family.

Lucia Carradigne was now a half hour late.

A knock sounded at the door, and Harrison turned from where he’d been staring out the window at the United Nations Building.

“Come in,” he called.

“Harrison.” As Devon entered the room, Harrison’s face fell.

“Devon.” He greeted his twenty-eight-year-old son easily, although honestly he didn’t feel at ease around Devon. After Mary’s sudden death from pneumonia, he’d sent the then sixteen-year-old Devon to military school. His son, the serious young man in front of him, was now a man he barely knew.

They couldn’t be more apart, despite their similarities. Sure, they both had a military-cut hairstyle. Devon’s color was a lighter brown, and was minus the gray that graced Harrison’s head. They shared hazel eyes. But they didn’t share the closeness of a father and son.

One more of the regrets in his life, Harrison mused with a twinge of bitterness.

If Devon sensed his father’s thoughts, he didn’t indicate it. Instead, the captain of the Royal Guard and person in charge of Korosol security got right to business.

“I wanted you to know that I’m getting a little closer to where Krissy Katwell may be getting her information. I’ve been able to secure some of her telephone records,” Devon said.

“Legally, of course,” Harrison interjected. Inwardly he winced when he saw Devon’s expression. Of course his son would do things legally. Devon was a by-the-book type of man.

“Of course,” Devon said, quickly covering up his own hurt at being second-guessed by his father.

“Good work,” Harrison said, trying to repair his gaffe. “I’m sure you’re quite on top of things.”

“Yes,” Devon replied. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “King Easton sent me down here. He said that you were interviewing Princess Lucia and he suggested that it might be to my benefit for security reasons to be present for the interview.”

Another matchmaking attempt, Harrison thought with an inward groan. He studied his son thoughtfully for a moment. Devon didn’t seem too keen, or too overly eager, to be a part of the interview.

But then, Devon would do what the king wished, no matter what his personal feelings were. Besides, if Devon had personal feelings for the princess, Harrison doubted his son would share them with his father. They’d never been close enough to have ever once shared personal confidences.

“I think I can handle it on my own,” Harrison said smoothly. “I believe having to face two Mont-calm men might be a bit overwhelming, even for a princess.”

“True.” Devon nodded. “But King Easton was most insistent.”

“I’ll explain your absence to the king,” Harrison said, sealing his own fate irrevocably. “Right now your time is better spent on discovering where Krissy Katwell is getting her information. You know from our meeting earlier this week about Easton and my suspicions as to her source, and hence, time is of the essence. Krissy Katwell has already done quite a bit of damage to the Carradigne name. She needs to be stopped, and her source silenced.”

“Understood.” Devon deferred to the judgment of his father, and technically his superior in rank. “I’ll report back to you as soon as I know more.”

“Very good.” Harrison glanced at his watch again. He frowned. Lucia was now forty-five minutes late.

Not a good sign for someone who wanted to be queen. He glanced up at Devon, who was still standing in the office.

Devon had a strange, questioning look on his face as he studied his father. “Harrison, is something wrong?”

It had always bothered Harrison that Devon never called him “Dad” or even “Father.” But he didn’t dwell on that now. “Princess Lucia was supposed to be here at three.”

Devon frowned. As captain of the Royal Guard, his concern was immediate. “Do you think something has happened to her?”

No. She’s making me pay for rejecting her. She’s proving who is boss. The insight hit Harrison like a freight train. Being late was the oldest female trick in the book, and here he was, pacing his office and checking his watch every minute.

As quickly as it had come, he dismissed the thought. Lucia didn’t strike him as being like that. He contemplated his gut reaction a moment. Instinct told him that Lucia was nothing like Mary. Devon’s mother had used those tricks many times. Harrison’s instinct was never wrong.

“I think the princess is just running behind,” Harrison replied, giving Lucia the benefit of the doubt. “She’s a very busy lady, and I’m sure she got caught up in something that was unavoidable.”

Devon nodded. “If she doesn’t show soon, let me know and I’ll find out what’s wrong.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

At the silken female voice, both men turned toward the doorway. Harrison sucked in his breath.

Time away from her hadn’t diminished his first impressions. As always, she was beautiful. Her dark blond hair fell to her shoulders, and her green eyes darkened as her gaze found Harrison.

“Hello, Harrison,” she said.

Belatedly, Harrison remembered he needed to bow. He and Devon both scrambled and bowed low.

“Princess Lucia.” Harrison tried to maintain a formal tone as he straightened. “Please come in. It’s good to see you.” He reached for the coat she was shedding.

She gave him a genuine smile as her fingers lightly touched his while transferring the garment. “It’s good to see you too, Harrison. I trust I’m finding you well?”

“Of course,” he said, realizing too late that somehow she’d already gained the upper hand by again calling him by his first name.

“Are you going to be present for this interview, Sir Devon?” As Lucia turned and faced the younger man, Harrison took a moment to study what Lucia wore. He’d heard she usually wore bohemian-type clothing, like flowing skirts and peasant blouses. But today was different. Like at the wedding reception, she appeared regal, refined. Her pale pink trouser suit celebrated the start of spring. The color suited her.

“No, Princess. I was just leaving. If you’d please excuse me.” Devon bowed again and posted a hasty retreat.

Lucia turned and faced Harrison. He managed to swallow, and somehow years of training kept his face immobile. That was until she turned on the charm and smiled widely again the moment they were alone. “Yes, I must say that it’s good to see you, Harrison. I’ve been looking forward to this interview ever since my grandfather called me and told me about it.”

Harrison somehow managed an appropriate gesture to a seat. As Lucia sat down, her perfume wafted past him. She smelled like roses again.

She looked expectantly at him. “So if you’re ready?”

Inwardly Harrison groaned. Where Lucia was concerned, he doubted he would ever be ready.

SHE HADN’T MEANT to be late. But someone had slipped down onto the subway tracks, delaying the trains uptown for a good half hour.

Lucia settled herself into the chair as Harrison brought her a glass of ice water. Perhaps she should have taken a taxicab as her mother always insisted. After all, as the past two months had demonstrated, she was a princess, and therefore she could technically be a target of a kidnapping attempt. But still Lucia valued her anonymity too much to give it up yet.

She thrived in New York City’s sea of anonymous faces. A people-watcher by nature, Lucia credited a lot of her creative genius to just watching the interactions of the everyday world. The panhandler holding the cup in Times Square had inspired a collection of dimpled platinum pins. The mother nursing her child on a Central Park bench had inspired a series of interlocking linked gold bracelets with birthstones.

Even today, the successful rescue mission had been, in a sense, inspirational. New Yorkers working together—Lucia could already visualize the brooches of intertwined pieces of silver and gold metal.

If only she and Harrison could work together. Couldn’t he feel the frisson of electricity that passed through their fingertips every time they touched, like now as he handed her the water?

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome,” Harrison replied. As he sat down across from her, she took a minute to sip her water and study him.

What was it about this man? Ever since she’d first set eyes on him, from across the dance floor, everything about him had impressed her.

She’d never been partial to short, military-style haircuts, but on Harrison, she couldn’t imagine any other thing. She’d never even thought she’d be attracted to a military man. They were too by the book, too punctual, too precise. But, with what little she’d learned of Harrison since the wedding reception, she couldn’t imagine him any other way.

“I’ve rescheduled my four-o’clock appointment so we have all the time necessary,” Harrison told her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lucia began. Then she stopped. She was a princess. Of course he would reschedule for her. But she didn’t like the idea that he thought she’d deliberately been late. Perhaps she should tell him about the subway. She sipped her water and contemplated it for a moment. No, just like her mother, he’d probably disapprove of her public-transport choices. She kept silent.

“I must ask your pardon for the nature of the questions that I’m going to have to ask, Princess,” Harrison said. “Some of them may be personal. You, of course, do not need to answer any that you do not wish to. This is not an interrogation.”

“Yes, my grandfather explained it to me.” Lucia nodded. “He wants to determine my suitability. After my sisters, I don’t blame him.”

Harrison arched his eyebrows. “You don’t? Excuse me, I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“You can ask what you wish,” Lucia said. “And of course, I do not blame my grandfather, especially after what’s happened.” Lucia shook her head vigorously, which caused her hair to fall in her face. She brushed the blond strands back. “CeCe was pregnant, and Amelia already secretly married. I just hope I don’t disappoint him as well. Whereas my grandfather and I have not seen each other in years, I do care for him a great deal.”

“Well.” Harrison coughed. “Your suitability is what we’ll try to determine. First, if King Easton does declare you his heir, I must know if you are willing to accept the full role and all it entails. Are you willing to be the queen of Korosol?”

Was she? For a moment Lucia thought of her mother. Now that Charlotte had warmed to the idea of one of her daughters being queen, Charlotte had become like a dog with a meaty bone. Lucia knew that, in her mother’s eyes, she was it. Charlotte had been on Lucia’s case for days, warning her not to mess this opportunity up.

Maybe for once she wouldn’t disappoint her mother in something. Whereas her mother might wish Lucia queen, Lucia herself still had doubts. “I am quite prepared to fulfill the role if King Easton chooses me,” Lucia said, proud she managed to deliver the words without a betraying quiver in her voice.

“Then we begin,” Harrison said.

Lucia simply nodded, and for one childish moment wished she had someone there to hold her hand.

“Again, Princess, I ask your pardon in the nature of these questions, but I must ask you about your ex-fiancé Gregory Barrett and the allegations he made in Krissy Katwell’s column.”

“That what, I’m a fast-and-loose woman? In his dreams.” Hackles rose on Lucia’s spine. Realizing what her outburst must have sounded like, she covered her mouth with her fingers. “Sorry, that’s not very princesslike, but whenever I think of him, well…” She shuddered with revulsion.

“Why don’t you tell me about him?”

“The man is a liar and a cheat.” Lucia leaned forward, suddenly desperate to have Harrison’s approval. “I was twenty-three when we met at some art gallery premiere one of my mother’s favorite charities was hosting. I’m not sure what the cause was.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Harrison said. He reached forward and took a Cross pen and leather portfolio off an occasional table. “Please continue.”

She watched his fingers and thumb roll the pen between them. “You’re going to take notes?”

Harrison looked up, and Lucia saw the surprise he quickly masked, as if his reach for the items had been more of a protective device—a need to occupy his hands as if to calm nerves. “If you don’t mind. King Easton wants a full report.”

Lucia thought for a moment. Did she make him nervous? She’d have to contemplate that more at a later time. “No, I don’t mind.” She bit her lower lip, and then she remembered that her mother had scolded her out of that habit long ago. She set her lip free. “Gregory seemed to be just the type a girl could bring home to Mother, and actually, I guess that’s what I found attractive about him. Mother and I don’t necessarily have the best relationship.”

She turned to Harrison. “How does that happen?”

“What?” Harrison asked. He stopped writing, and his hazel gaze connected with Lucia’s.

“Well, two people are related by blood yet they seem to have absolutely nothing in common. I mean, look at you and Devon. He’s following in your footsteps and obviously worships you. I’m just trouble with a capital T to my mother.”

Harrison set the pen down. “I doubt your mother thinks that.”

“Oh, she does.” Lucia nodded, her hair falling in her face again. “When I chose not to go into the shipping business, I heard how much of a disappointment I was to her. I mean, she’s devoted all her life to the family company and building it. She’s the head of it, and it’s more her baby than I am. She was not happy with my choice.”

“Parents sometimes say things that they don’t mean,” Harrison said.

“It doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t understand. Devon is such a success and a credit to you.”

“I’m far from the ideal father.” The admission spilled from Harrison’s mouth before he could stop it.

Lucia raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I can’t believe that.”

“Believe it.” The cat already out of the bag, Harrison cocked his head and gave Lucia a wry smile. “I failed not only my wife but my son as well. If I’d been any type of good father I would have known what to do with my son when his mother died. Instead, I shipped him off at age sixteen to the military academy. So don’t judge your mother so harshly. Perhaps she only thought she was doing what was best.”

Lucia smiled and the movement lit up her whole face. “You know, you may be right,” Lucia said finally. “My mother did work very hard to keep the shipping business going so that we could be raised in the proper environment befitting what my father would have wished. I just wish that included letting us visit Korosol, though. Since my father’s death she’s sworn off going again and so I don’t remember anything about it. I was too young.”

“It’s lovely there,” Harrison told her honestly.

“Tell me about it,” she said.

“I’ve never seen water so clear, grass so green or flowers so yellow,” Harrison said. “Part of the country is the Larella Mountains, and part is on the Mediterranean coast. There the beaches are the whitest and softest sand.”

“I’ve seen pictures,” Lucia said, “and it looks lovely. Once I even ordered the tourist brochures on the village of Aladair. I never did get to visit, though.”

Harrison smiled at her. “I’ve traveled the world, and to me, it will always be home. I can’t imagine living any other place. I guess I get my energy from the land.”

Lucia nodded. “Like Scarlett O’Hara.”

“Who?”

“The heroine in Gone With the Wind. She got her strength from the red earth of her plantation, Tara. You mean you’ve never seen the movie? It’s one of my all-time favorites.”

“Uh, no,” Harrison admitted. With his military career, he hadn’t had time to see many movies, even on video.

“We’ll have to watch it.” Lucia’s face grew animated and, despite himself, knowing he shouldn’t, Harrison delighted in watching her.

“I love classic movies,” Lucia said, “and this one won ten Academy Awards, including 1939 Best Picture. I can’t believe you haven’t seen it.”

“Well, believe it,” Harrison said with a smile.

“Then at one of these interviews we’ll watch Gone With the Wind so you’ll really know what I’m referring to.”

“Speaking of the interview, perhaps we should get back to our subject.”

At Harrison’s statement, Lucia’s euphoria fell, but she didn’t let him see. “Yes, we probably should.”

She masked her disappointment with a smile of acceptance. He’d actually talked to her—amazing. For a brief moment she’d seen him loosen up, seen him out of the role that he was so entrenched in.

Yes, she’d been right that night of the wedding reception. Harrison Montcalm was a man who was in desperate need of a little freedom from the restrictions he’d placed on his own life.

And if her mother wanted Lucia to find a proper man, Harrison was as proper as they came.

Briefly, as she watched him study his notepad, Lucia contemplated the fact that Harrison was nineteen years older than herself. She watched as his firm fingers used the pen to jot a note on the pad. She shivered slightly. Age didn’t matter. In her acquaintances with artists, musicians and people of “improper” society, according to her mother, Lucia had learned that appearances didn’t matter. It was what was inside the person that was truly important.

She wanted to know what was inside Harrison Montcalm. If her suspicious were right, and they always were, deep inside Harrison was a heart of gold.

Harrison looked up and caught her staring at him. Her cheeks flamed pink. “You were telling me about Gregory Barrett,” he said.

“Oh, right,” Lucia replied. She didn’t want to talk about Gregory. Instead, she wanted to learn about Harrison. “To make a long story short, I dated him and he literally swept me off my feet. We were engaged after two months, and we’d set a wedding date. It was when the Carradigne family lawyers insisted on a prenuptial agreement that things began to fall apart.” She paused. Then Greg’s true colors had become quite obvious.

“As for me being fast and loose, that was Greg and his mouth. He used my relationships with my friends against me. He insinuated that every male friend I had was a boyfriend so that he could make himself look like such a victim. According to him, I used him, chewed him up and spit him out. In reality, he didn’t love me. He just wanted a piece of the Carradigne pie. When the lawyers showed him how little he’d get, he said I’d cheated on him. He called me unfaithful so he could dump me like a hot potato and go after some other gullible girl with a trust fund he could pilfer.”

Harrison didn’t look up from the leather portfolio, although Lucia could tell he wasn’t writing anything. “He worked on Wall Street?”

“Had. Bad investments got him in trouble and fired. So he needed my cash, and fast.” Lucia shuddered. Gregory’s deception had made her leery of men, especially ones that Charlotte found for her. “Do you want to know if we slept together?”

Harrison’s head snapped up, and to Lucia’s surprise he physically recoiled at that announcement. “That’s not necessary.”

Lucia jutted her chin forward. To her, making Harrison understand was necessary. “Well, we didn’t. Have sex, that is.”

Harrison straightened. He seemed uncomfortable. “Princess Lucia, King Easton is not concerned about your, um, morality in your choice of, uh, companions. As long as you have been discreet before you take the throne, and as long as, once you become queen, you remain chaste in the eyes of the public until you marry, he will be satisfied that he has made a wise choice.”

“What about you?” Lucia turned the question around. “Do you think he’s made a wise choice?”

She had to give him credit. He was quick and diplomatic. “It is not my place to judge, Princess. I am just to gather the facts, and if the king chooses you, then I will be your adviser and prepare you for your transition to the throne.”

“But you have judged me,” Lucia replied, going back to her real question. He had avoided it, and somehow she knew he had judged her. She felt it deep in her bones, and her female intuition never failed her.

“No, Princess, I have not,” Harrison denied. “That is not my role as an adviser to the king.”

“So you just do what Easton tells you,” Lucia returned, her tone a bit harsh.

Harrison blinked, as if surprised by her sudden change of attitude. “I do not understand what you are insinuating, Princess. I do my job.”

For one second Lucia wondered why it mattered to her, why she was pursuing this line of conversation. But she knew. It was because of sleepless nights he’d caused her. Because of the erotic dreams she’d had. Because of the feeling of loneliness that had vanished when she’d touched him at the wedding reception. Because of a desire…

She brushed those thoughts aside. She would make him see. “Your job. Do you ever think of more than your job?”

“I think of my duty to the throne.”

She wasn’t reaching him. “What about passion? What about love?”

Harrison’s chin came forward, indicating his stubbornness. “My duty comes first.”

“So you’ve shut off those emotions,” Lucia challenged. She wondered why she suddenly felt so determined, so forceful in her questioning. She mentally cursed herself. She knew why.

“Those emotions have no place in rational judgments,” he said.

“So passion and love are bad things.”

“Passion can get people pregnant at seventeen,” Harrison retorted. “Love does not last, and can compromise duty.”

“Which you know from personal experience.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. It is not one of the better moments in my life.”

Lucia nodded, satisfied. Now she was getting somewhere. She’d been right. Harrison Montcalm had buried the passion and fire that still existed in him. Someone—she—just had to dig deep to free it and get it out.

“You don’t mind, Harrison, if I question you. After all, if I’m named queen, you’ve told me you will be my adviser.”

“I would,” Harrison answered stoically.

“Ah yes, because it would be your duty.” Lucia reached forward and refilled her water glass from the crystal pitcher sitting on the table. “Do you ever think of yourself first?”

“No.” The pen made a clicking sound as Harrison set it on the table.

“Why not?”

“Because my duty is to serve others,” he replied. “Look, excuse me, Princess, but we are getting off track here.”

“Call me Lucia, please, Harrison.”

“It’s not proper.”

“I don’t care.” Lucia smiled, giving him another infuriating smile that she knew was driving Harrison crazy. “My name is Lucia and when we are alone I want you to use it. Consider it an order if that will make your sense of duty feel better.”

“Yes, Prin—Lucia.”

“Thank you.” Lucia nodded her head. “Being friends will help this process go so much smoother, Harrison.”

“Our role doesn’t involve friendship, Princess.”

“Lucia.”

“Lucia.” His tone indicated his frustration with the entire situation.

She nodded her approval at his use of her name. “You may not like it, Harrison, but you and I should be friends. When I move to Korosol I’ll be leaving everything behind. All my friends, my family, everything I’ve held dear my entire twenty-six years. You’ll be one of the only people I’ll know. Therefore, we need to be friends.”

“That does sound logical,” Harrison conceded, and Lucia smiled. She was wearing him down. If nothing else, she was tenacious. She’d finally won her freedom from her mother—the freedom to live her life away from DeLacey Shipping. If she could do that, she could do anything—including making Harrison see things her way.

“Good.” She paused as an idea took hold. “You understand that this means we need to get to know each other as friends. Besides, it will fit in with your investigation as to my suitability for the throne. So, since you want to find out the truth about me, I suggest you spend the weekend with me and judge me for yourself.”

“It is not my role to judge,” he returned to that argument.

Lucia took a sip of water. “Ah, but you must make a report to my grandfather. Thus, if you want to really know everything there is to know about me, you need to spend time with me.”

“I don’t believe that this is necessarily a good idea.”

“Why not?”

As Lucia threw the challenge back into his face, Harrison asked himself the same question. Why not? The answer was simple. Lucia Carradigne was as off-limits as a nuclear reactor. Despite his attraction to her, today he’d managed to control himself and handle himself with the utmost decorum. For his own sanity and security, he needed to stay away from her.

Already he’d slipped up. Just by being with her he had somewhere along the line lost control of the interview. But it had a positive result. Because of it, he’d seen the real Lucia. And he liked her. A lot.

Lucia. He said her name mentally, rolling it silently over his tongue. He could imagine calling her by her name during lovemaking.

He shook his head, clearing it of that off-limits mental picture. Lucia may be a touch of heaven, but his job did not include holding it, or touching it, or tasting it. Just because she was the first woman to make him feel alive in years, that didn’t mean he had to act on it. He’d made a career of doing the right thing, acting the correct way. As soon as King Easton was satisfied with her credentials, Lucia Carradigne would be heir to the Korosol throne.

Retired generals didn’t marry princesses, or much less even become their friends. It just wasn’t done. Especially not retired generals his age with his baggage.

“Well?” Lucia’s voice cut through his disturbing thoughts. “I assume you’re deciding if you’re going to hang out with me this weekend?”

Hang out? Harrison hadn’t heard that word used in his military circle in years. With free time a premium, he never simply “hung out.” Inwardly he groaned. Lucia’s words showed how young she really was, but also how much the idea of simply “hanging out” with her appealed to him.

But he couldn’t let her know.

“I see that I have little choice in the matter,” he replied.

Lucia gave him a seductive smile. “We always have choices, Harrison. I’d just like to think that you made the correct one.”

“Time will tell.” He managed not to let her know just how much her smile, and her words, had affected him.

“Yes, it will,” she said. She glanced at her watch. How time had flown! “Speaking of the time, I didn’t realize how late it is. I’m meeting my mother and King Easton for dinner. I need to leave or I’ll be late for that, too.”

Lucia rose to her feet. “May I please have a piece of your paper?”

Harrison stood, removed his notes and handed her the leather folder and the Cross pen. Lucia took it and wrote quickly.

“Here are the directions. Meet me there at ten. Casual attire.” She looked over his business suit. “Definitely not what you have on.”

Harrison’s eyebrows shot up.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with your suit,” Lucia reassured him quickly. “You look, well, very nice,” she finished awkwardly.

He looked fabulous, debonair and extremely handsome, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. Although she was usually very forward and proud of it, something about Harrison made her slightly shy. His opinion mattered, and today she’d already been forward enough. She blinked, trying not to contain her excitement at the prospect of a “date” with Harrison.

“Anyway,” she said, “there will probably be a line of people outside the club, so just walk by it and give your name at the door.”

Lucia pressed the piece of paper into his hand. “Until tonight at ten.”

And then, before he had a chance to bow, Lucia left the office.

HARRISON STARED after her. The proof was all there—the piece of paper crumbled in his palm, the empty water goblet, the residual smell of roses. She hadn’t been a mirage.

Why did he feel she had been?

Without her, the room seemed empty, lifeless.

Harrison slumped back down into the chair. He ran a hand thoughtfully across his chin, feeling the five-o’clock shadow that he’d need to shave away before he met up with Lucia tonight.

He couldn’t let himself look forward to the evening. But how he wanted to!

Somehow Lucia had triggered something in him, something he needed to explore. He could control it, whatever it was. After the incident with Mary, he’d made being in control a lifelong habit.

The phone on the desk buzzed and Harrison strode over to pick it up.

“King Easton would like to see you before he returns to Charlotte’s apartment,” Ellie told him. “He informs me he’s dining with Lucia and her mother tonight, and he’d like to know if you’ve discovered anything.”

Great. Easton wanted a full report already. Harrison wished he had something to say, besides Lucia’s side of Gregory Barrett’s story.

For right now, though, that would have to be enough.

“I’ll be right up,” he said, knowing that once again he was going to lie to his king. But what else could he do?

Torn, he headed toward the elevator, already rehearsing his lines.