The Prince and the Player

The cloth handkerchief is back out, and he’s dabbing his eyes as he shakes his head. “You’re mistaken, Miss Wilder, it’s you I want.”

My heart lurches, and I speak before I realize. “Me?”

“We got off on the wrong foot.” He holds both hands up. “I only meant to say I admire your work. I have a proposition for you that will make that thousand-dollar chip look like… how do you say? Chicken feed?”

We’ve slowed to a crawl, and the waves rock the small boat roughly. I study his expression. All the humor is gone. He’s serious.

I frown, but he rises from his seat with a flourish. “I have a job for you that would eclipse all others. If you’re successful, you’ll never work again for the rest of your life.” His eyebrow cocks. “Unless you get bored and simply want to.”

So many questions jam together in my brain, I don’t know which to ask first.

Ava’s hand tightens on my arm. “What is your proposition?” she says.

The man winks and does a little point at her. “I see you have a head for business, Miss…”

“You can call me Ava.”

“He’s not calling you anything.” I grab the reins on the conversation. “I don’t like your looks.”

“Not a problem,” he says, waving a hand. “I’m not the one you’ll be interacting with. Does the name Rowan Westringham Tate mean anything to you?”

Ava and I shake our heads no. “Who is he?” she asks.

“He’s the crown prince of Monagasco, and believe me, women do like his looks, very much. Some men as well, from what I understand—”

“What about him?” I’m impatient.

For the first time, I see anger fire in our host’s eyes. “I have a score to settle with his royal highness.” Reginald’s jaw clenches, and he levels his gaze on me in a way that makes my insides squirm. “I confess I never saw you coming, but you are perfect. You’re the answer to my prayers.”

“Your twisted prayers, I’ll bet.”

“Hear me out.” He returns to his seat facing me. “Last night you demonstrated your skill with playing a part all the way to the end. You showed you don’t crack under pressure, and you’re quick on your feet.”

“What’s your point?” Flattery has never distracted me from the bottom line.

“The way royal succession works in our country, when the parliament decides the heir is ready to take the throne, they propose a formal referendum upon which the people vote.” He leans back, and I don’t like the darkness in his eyes. “I have a plan to expose the crown prince of Monagasco for the immature, selfish… careless leader he is. A leader who jeopardizes the future of our country.”

“Is that so?” I say, shifting uncomfortably.

“He won’t listen to his advisors. He threw out the cabinet. The only way to break him is to show him he’s a fool—to demonstrate it for the entire country to see.”

I don’t like the sound of this. “I don’t have a dog in your fight. Why do you need me?”

“It’s very simple, actually.” He straightens, the menacing expression gone. “You will pose as the heir of Lux Benedict, a colleague of mine who I’ve recently established as a Texas oil baron.”

“Hang on…” I’m following his words closely. “Is your friend really a Texas oil baron?”

“Of course not.”

“And you think that’s going to work?”

“Again, you’d be surprised what money can do. As Benedict’s niece, I’ll escort you to Monagasco on a holiday—Ava can be your sister or your friend, whatever makes you comfortable. While there, you just happen to cross paths with the dashing future king. You fall in love, he proposes, makes a grand public engagement, and Voilà! You’re free to leave. I’ll take care of the rest.”

My mouth has dropped open. Ava’s hand is still on my arm, but she’s not talking either.

Reginald grins. “Did you never dream of being a princess when you were a little girl?”

“No.” I glance over my shoulder, and my eyes meet Ava’s. “I dreamed of finding us a safe place to sleep, of no one catching us stealing food or breaking into boathouses when it rained. I dreamed of a place where we didn’t have to be afraid…”