“Why did you stop?” Nic asked because the answer was important.
“Stop what?” She had a faraway look in her eyes.
“Doing street photography.”
Lexie laughed self-consciously. “It was driving my brother crazy. Stefan deemed it too dangerous. I was recognized once and the local paparazzi outed me. I couldn’t go out in the streets undetected with my bodyguards tagging along,” she mused wryly. “And now I’m hiding from photographers all the time. How ironic. Present company exempted, of course,” she teased Priscilla, her eyes twinkling.
The photographer smiled in turn. “Hence, you turned to landscapes,” Priscilla astutely remarked.
“At least the rock formations don’t care who I am,” she said self-deprecatingly, and they laughed. At least Nic had to or else he wouldn’t be able to stop from taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless to wipe that look of brief sadness in her eyes.
Attracted by their laughter, Nic saw Butler turn in their direction and disengage himself from his cronies. He strode to where they were, his boots buffed and shiny and his diamond-buckled belt glinting as hard as his eyes.
After greeting the ladies, he said, “May I have a quick word with you, Nic?” He flashed Lexie a smarmy smile. “Polo business, Your Highness.”
Lexie just nodded. Nic had a bad feeling about it.
* * *
Lexie was glad Priscilla was there to keep her company. They had moved to a corner far back from the stage, near some rose bushes, and she was content to watch the beautiful men and women from afar. Too near and she saw far too much.
“The women are all starting to look the same.” Priscilla’s eyes roved over the glamorous crowd. “That’s what you get for going to the same plastic surgeon. I’m sure the men would use that as an excuse to conduct affairs. They could say, ’Hey, I thought I was banging my wife. In the dark I couldn’t tell it wasn’t my wife’s puffed-up lips that was sucking my cock.’”
Lexie coughed.
Priscilla grimaced. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. Sometimes, I talk before I think.”
Lexie had recovered enough to say, “It’s Lexie. And don’t worry. I’m worse. I act before I think.”
“Shit!’ Priscilla’s expletive rent the air. She was looking at a small commotion by the sliding door leading to the garden where a blonde woman with pixie-cut hair had just arrived. Tansy Butler was hovering by her side. “Speaking of acting, Melissa Rathborn just made her entrance.”
Lexie’s blood pooled to her feet. Melissa Osgoode−Rathborn. The one and only long-term relationship Nic had had before the long string of women linked to his name.
“That bitch!” Priscilla exclaimed, but she was looking at Tansy. “Since she can’t have Nic, she’s out to make trouble for him.”
“Trouble?” Lexie managed to say.
“Tansy knows Nic has been avoiding Melissa for years. When Melissa dumped Nic for her congressman, there were rumors she was pregnant and got rid of the baby,” Priscilla said grimly.
“Oh my God.” That was why he was so insistent she tell him if there were any consequences from their unprotected sex. Lexie saw Tansy furtively scanning the partygoers. She knew he was looking for Nic. She had to warn him.
Chapter Nine
“I haven’t got a thing,” Nic had answered curtly at the patron’s query on the activities of the royal family. Butler had led him down a long hallway and inside a study. He sat behind a big desk and gestured for Nic to take the seat in front of it. He remained standing.
“Seems you’re not giving it a hundred percent, Nic,” Butler drawled mockingly, lighting a cigar. “You’re not on top of your game. How about I give you a little tidbit that might liven things up a bit? Show you how much of a team player I am and that I do my own research.”
Nic kept his mouth shut but felt foreboding. The way Butler was stretching this out, he knew it was going to be bad.
“We look out for each other on the team, Nic,” Butler said with as much sincerity as the wolf to Little Red Riding Hood. “I don’t want you getting hurt and convincing yourself you’re in love with the Princess when she’s engaged to Walkden.” He paused after he detonated that little bomb. “Oops. I hope they’ve told you about the secret arrangement the old Duke and the Prince had for their son and daughter. That old fart Prince Horatio really knew how to make sure the deal falls through even after his death.”