Marooned with the Millionaire

‘So...’ he said.

‘So?’ she returned.

‘Why don’t you tell me what your angle is?’

Tipping her head slightly to one side, she contemplated him. No doubt wondering how little she could disclose and get away with.

Seeing the waiter approach, he raised a hand. ‘Hang on. Our coffee’s here.’

They both waited in silence as their drinks were carefully deposited in front of them, and then for a few more beats until the waiter was out of earshot.

‘Go ahead,’ he said.

She blew out an exaggerated puff of air. ‘Telling you is a non-starter. Once I tell you, you’ll try and kill the story.’

‘Yes. We both know that. But if you don’t tell me you’ll lose all access to the Prince and his

bride and we’ll call in a different magazine.’

A frown creased her forehead. ‘Isn’t this overkill? All I’ve done is have a chat to your sister.’

‘Not true, April, and we both know it. You also met with Brian Sewell.’

The anger he’d felt at that discovery resurfaced, and he forced his body to remain relaxed, his voice almost casual.

Her whole body stilled, but other than that she gave no indication of guilt. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘Did you approach him?’

‘No. He approached me. I understand he is a great proponent of democracy and I wanted a different perspective to put into the article. I won’t apologise for that.’

‘I’m not asking for an apology. I’m asking you not to pursue whatever line he has cast.’

Green eyes met his with cool aplomb. ‘I can’t do that. If there is a story there I need to follow it.’

‘Even if it isn’t the story you have been commissioned to write?’

‘Maybe it’s a better story.’

‘And that’s all you care about, isn’t it? The story? Circulation? Your reputation? And never mind the collateral damage.’

‘No!’ Her eyes flashed sparks at him as she pushed her cup away and leant across the table. ‘I care about the truth. And if this story is true then clearly all you care about is covering up the truth.’

‘I will tell you exactly what I care about. I care about Lycander. I care about my country and its people.’

‘Then surely you believe that “your” people deserve the truth? That is all I want to discover. The truth.’

The fervour with which she spoke was quiet but absolute, and for a second it caused him to pause.

‘Then perhaps you should choose your sources more carefully.’

‘Meaning...?’

‘Meaning Brian Sewell is not exactly a credible source. Plus, as I heard it, he was pretty plastered at your lunch yesterday—I’m not sure his drunken ramblings will stand up to scrutiny.’

Her green eyes narrowed and her entire body vibrated with outrage. ‘Are you spying on me?’

‘No. But I am keeping tabs on Brian Sewell. He is a dissident of the worst type.’