A Prince at Last! Page 8
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she demanded, infuriated by his nonchalant attitude about his own safety.
“I gave the construction foreman a fiery lecture about on-the-job safety.”
“I mean to me. Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
He raised one dark brow, indicating his surprise at her vehemence. “Because it wasn’t important.”
“Of course it’s important. There’s a pattern here. Twice in the past few days you’ve almost been seriously injured.”
“Oh, please.” He rolled his gorgeous rich blue eyes at her. “This incident tonight is nothing. A gust of wind probably knocked the canopy down.”
She wasn’t buying that for one minute. “There isn’t a spit of wind tonight, it’s completely still.”
“There’s no way someone would have known I would be standing beneath that particular canopy on this particular night.”
She hated it when Luc used that logical tone of voice on her. “They would if you were being followed.”
“You really do have a vivid imagination.”
She hated it even more when he didn’t take her seriously. “Stop acting so nonchalantly about all this. I’m worried about you.”
“I can see that. It’s the first time in decades that anyone has worried about me. But there’s no need.”
The thought of no one worried about him for years and years made her heart ache. His mother had died, his stepmother was worse than useless, and his father had apparently forgotten about him once he’d shipped him off to boarding school.
At least Juliet had her older brother Georges to depend on, and her younger sister Jacqueline. But Luc had grown up with no one—no one to fuss over him, no one to worry about his well-being, no one to love him.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the agitated voice of the vendor offering them free beer, before he realized that the fallen canopy had knocked over the barrel filled with beer bottles and smashed them all.
“That could have been you,” Juliet said, pointing to the smashed debris that the men had just uncovered.
“But it wasn’t. I can’t live my life with could-have-beens. Especially not now.”
She wasn’t about to let him off the hook. “Now is when you have to be especially careful, Luc. There are people who will not be pleased with your…discoveries about your past. People who have a lot to lose. And there are still some dissident Rhinelanders who want St. Michel annexed to their country so they can have river access. Who knows what they might have planned? You can’t be cavalier about your safety, Luc. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” he promised her. “Nothing at all.”
“Did you do it?” Celeste whispered to her lover Claude Guignard as she welcomed him into the private apartment she’d rented in St. Michel. No one at the palace knew about this place, located near the river, where she let her sensual side have free reign—red velvet couches and chairs in the living room, a leopard-print bedcover and mirrored ceiling in the bedroom. This pied-à-terre was where she plotted her future. “Have you killed him yet?”
“It’s not that easy to make it look like an accident.”
She pulled away from him to bestow an icy look of disapproval. “Which means no, you haven’t killed him.”
Claude cringed as if dreading what she might do or say next. “The falling masonry should have worked. I followed him tonight to the carnival and successfully collapsed a tent on him.”
“A tent?” she repeated, mocking him. “A lethal weapon to be sure.”
“There was a heavy metal pole that almost made a direct hit, but he turned at the last minute.”
Her cold expression was warmed by a sudden smile and a thoughtful expression as she drifted into the living room. “There may be a better way. Killing him was perhaps a tad too obvious. We may still be forced to do that, of course. But I’m exploring other options.”
“Other options?”
“Yes. I’ve arranged for a top secret meeting here and have invited a very important guest.”
“Who is it?”
There was a discreet knock on the door. “Ah, that should be him now. You’d better open it, the queen shouldn’t be seen doing something so menial.”
Claude did her bidding, as he always did.
Celeste had her most gracious smile in place as she greeted her visitor. “I’m so glad you could make it here this evening.”
“Your invitation was too intriguing to refuse, Your Majesty,” Berg Dekker replied, taking her hand and bowing over it before kissing it with just enough flirtatiousness to make Claude’s brown eyes flash with jealousy.
Berg was a tall man with ice-cold features. He’d earned the nickname Iceberg because he so coldly went after what he wanted in business, regardless of who or what got in his way. The environmental fanatics claimed his petroleum and chemical plants were major polluters. Celeste really didn’t care. The important thing was Berg’s enormous wealth and influence. He gave buckets of money to his pet charities, cultural foundations and political causes. His power joined with hers would make a formidable alliance.
“Claude, you know Berg Dekker, one of Europe’s most powerful and successful businessmen. And, as you know, Berg, Claude is St. Michel’s deputy energy minister.”
“If this is about that money that changed hands several months ago…” Claude began nervously.
“Do be quiet, Claude,” Celeste chastised him. “This meeting isn’t about the bribes you’ve been taking from Berg for years.”
“It isn’t?” Claude almost sagged with relief.
“No, of course not. I admire you and Berg for making an arrangement that was beneficial to you both. Claude, do get our guest some wine.”
He did as she ordered.
“A toast.” Celeste raised her crystal wineglass. “To a mutually prosperous future.”
When Berg touched his glass to hers, she saw the interest in his pale blue eyes. She sank onto the couch, striking an elegant pose in her designer outfit—a chic Valentino cocktail dress that showed off her great legs. “Do sit down.” She patted the couch on either side of her. Berg chose to sit at her right, Claude got the seat that was left over. “The matter I wish to discuss is much larger than a few bribes here and there. Berg, I know how passionately you have supported the cause of Rhineland annexing St. Michel. And I know that while you have patriotic reasons for your views, you also have practical reasons. You are in the lucrative petrochemical business—refining and transportation. This business would be made easier and less expensive if you were to have access to the St. Michel River, leading to and from the North Sea, correct?”
“Correct.”
“Then I have what I hope will be an irresistible proposal for you.”
“Everything about you is irresistible,” Berg murmured in a charming voice.
“You are being too kind.” Celeste fluttered her eyelashes at him before crossing her legs, showing a generous amount of thigh. “I fear I’m not looking my best after having given birth to the heir to the throne a mere week ago.”
“You are looking ravishing with that special glow that only a new mother could display.” Berg lifted her hand to his lips. “The best paintings by Raphael and Rembrandt pale in comparison to your beauty. And I should know, as I have rather an extensive collection of artwork, one that would put the royal collection of St. Michel to shame.”
“It is a shame that St. Michel was taken from Rhineland,” Celeste murmured.
“That is my view,” Berg agreed. “For hundreds of years we ruled this area. Then some rabble-rousers demanded independence and forcibly took our rightful heritage from us.”
“That was way back in the sixteenth century,” Claude pointed out in an affronted voice. “And some would say that the group Rhinelanders for Annexation are a bunch of rabble-rousers,” he added, clearly unhappy about the fact that Berg still held Celeste’s hand.
“Of course, anyone who sa
id that would be wrong,” Celeste stated with a warning look at Claude. “My proposition is one that would benefit us all. I’ve learned that you have quietly been supplying a great deal of the funding for Rhinelanders for Annexation, Berg.”
“There is no law against that.”
“Of course not. But I think you and I can work together to get what we both want.”
“Why would you want to make a deal with us?” Berg asked. “You have a son, a healthy baby boy. There is no threat of St. Michel returning to Rhineland due to a lack of a male heir.”
“Actually the problem we have is that we have too many male heirs,” Celeste said. “I trust that this meeting and everything that is said here will be held in the utmost confidentiality?”
Berg nodded. “You have my word.”
“Mine, too,” Claude hurriedly added.
“Good.” Her smile reflected her pleasure. “It would not be in any of our best interests for word of this conversation to get out.”
“What did you mean by saying there are too many male heirs?” Berg asked.
Celeste leaned closer. “You have no doubt heard the ridiculous story about King Philippe’s youthful marriage to that American girl named Katie Graham.”
Once again, Berg nodded. “Yes. And I know that Luc Dumont has been searching for the child they are rumored to have had together.”
Celeste appeared surprised. “I wasn’t aware that that was public information.”
“It isn’t, but I do have my sources.”
“The story, of course, is a total fabrication.” She waved her hand dismissively. “A way for Prime Minister Davoine to hang on to power. He knows that the moment my son becomes king, I will fire him for being an incompetent fool, and replace him with someone like Claude here. Someone loyal to me.”
“I’m assuming then, that Luc found someone he believes to be the heir?” Berg noted astutely.
“Yes, but that’s not important. As I said, the entire story is a fabrication. However some people may be fooled by these lies. So I need a way of uniting the people of St. Michel. If I were to present the country with a solution to the vexing Rhineland problem, then naturally they would all support me in their gratitude.”
Berg’s pale blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What kind of solution?”
“I propose that we share the rights to the river. That way you would save millions in shipping costs, since you would no longer have to pay the local taxes and tariff. We would also be more lenient in our regulations on the cargo sizes of your barges and the number of barges you can use at any one time. I understand the current regime has been making life difficult for you, shutting down your operations because of pollution concerns despite Claude’s best efforts to look the other way. That would not be a problem if we were to enter into a partnership—a silent, secret partnership.”
Berg’s expression went from suspicious to calculating. “What exactly is it you want from me?”
“I want your support, as leader of Rhinelanders for Annexation, for my plan.”
“I am not the leader,” Berg protested. “I am merely one of many patriotic souls who feel our country has been wronged.”
Celeste smiled. “Come now, there’s no need for any false modesty here. You are the power behind the organization. Those men they arrested a few weeks back were merely the figureheads. You possess the real power.”
Berg’s icy eyes showed a flash of admiration. “Not many have figured that out.”
“Like you, I have my sources.” She shifted against him, subtly brushing her body against hers. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal?”
Berg smiled. “Yes, Your Majesty, it appears that we do.”
“Shhhh,” Juliet cautioned Luc with a giggle. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”
“I’m not the one making noise, you are. How many of those free beers did you have?” The vendor had insisted on treating them, sending his son to get another case of beer to make up for the unfortunate incident involving the tent canopy.
“None. I’m drunk on life.” Juliet smiled as she dreamily danced her way down the garden path leading to the palace, which looked romantic in the moonlight with its golden sandstone walls and towers creating a fairy-tale silhouette against the night sky. Most of the many windows were darkened at this time of night. But the Cheval de Roi fountain was illuminated, its trio of rearing horses seeming to hover above the water. “Wait.”
“What for?”
“I want to make a wish.” She dug into her purse. “Did you know this fountain is rumored to have magical properties?”
“I think after that fortune teller at the carnival, we’ve had enough magic for one night.”
“No, this is different. I’ve been reading the diaries of Queen Regina and she writes about it there. The horse in the middle represents King Philippe’s great-grandfather’s prized stallion. And the two females flanking him were thought to represent his wife and his mistress.”
“The stallion’s?” was Luc’s mocking reply.
“No, the king’s. And once the fountain was up, no horse from the royal stables ever lost a race. The fountain became known as a lucky place, a place to make dreams come true. You can’t look at the horses when you make your wish, you have to turn away from them in deference.”
“Fascinating, I’m sure.”
“It is. Which is why I’m going to make a wish.” She removed a coin from her purse and, turning her back to the fountain, quickly tossed it over her left shoulder where it fell into the fountain’s water with a distinct plop. “Here, I’ll give you a coin to make a wish, too.”
“I don’t make wishes—” Luc began when Juliet interrupted him.
“Oh no!” she wailed.
“What’s wrong?”
“The coin! That was my special lucky coin. One my mother gave me that I carry with me all the time. I didn’t mean to use that. I need it back.”
“You can’t get it back.”
“Yes, I can. I’m going after it. You stand guard and make sure no one from security comes by.”
“I am security.”
“Then close your eyes. I’m going in.” She kicked off her shoes and carefully waded into the fountain. “My goodness, that stallion is certainly well-endowed,” she noted as she bent beneath it to get to the center of the fountain.
“Stop eyeing the equestrian private parts and get your fanny back here,” Luc ordered her.
“Not until I get my lucky coin.” She plodded through the water, raising her skirt even higher to avoid getting it wet.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he muttered in exasperation. “It’s dark out here. You can’t see what you’re doing.”
“I can, too. The fountain is lit. Oh, I think I see it!” She leaned forward eagerly, a tad too eagerly as it turned out, because an instant later she lost her balance and fell onto her derriere.
“I didn’t realize you’d be doing a water ballet tonight.” Luc’s voice was filled with laughter. “Or is it synchronized swimming you’re performing? If so, I’m going to have to mark you down for a lack of finesse in your landing.”
“I’ll give you a lack of finesse.” Juliet reached out to swipe her hand along the water, creating a giant splash that doused Luc and left him blinking at her in surprise.
Noting the dangerous gleam in his eyes, she quickly started scooting away. “Now, Luc, you started it by insulting my lack of finesse. What are you doing?” She eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you taking off your shoes?”
“Because I don’t want to ruin them when I come in there after you.”
“You don’t have to come in. I’ve got my coin.” She held it aloft and stood up, her cotton dress clinging to her like a second skin. “I’m coming out. As soon as you take a few steps away from the fountain. Not into the fountain.” He showed no signs of obeying her. “Luc, be sensible.”
“I am being sensible. As head of security I found a strange and unauthorized object in the fountain. It’s up t
o me to remove it.”
Juliet placed her wet hands on her equally wet hips. “Luc Dumont, you get out of this fountain this instant!”
“Now, Juliet, you know how that prim voice of yours drives me wild.”
“I mean it, Luc.” She backed up until she was up against one of the equine statues’ flanks and could go no farther.
“I’m sure you do.”
“It was your own fault you got wet. You taunted me. And you know how I hate being taunted.”
“Yes, I know. I also know that you’re rather fond of this.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her to him. Leaning down, he brushed his lips across hers.
“Mmm, that is rather nice,” she murmured against his mouth.
“Nice?” He drew his head back to give her a reproachful look that melted her knees. “Only nice? Clearly I’ll have to try harder.”
Wrapping both arms around her, he lifted her against him as he devoured her mouth with a hotly sensual kiss that had her parting her lips and greeting his tongue with her own. The splashing sound of the fountain’s water mimicked the beating of her heart in her chest. The wet material of her dress provided little protection as her thighs were pressed against his, making her very aware of his arousal.
She felt her nipples tingle and firm. He dabbled the wet point of his tongue along the roof of her mouth as his right hand shifted to cup the soft swell of her breast.
Looking down on them from a window on the second floor, Baron Severin tsk-tsked disapprovingly and told the prime minister, “René, I fear this Juliet girl may not be a good influence on our future king. I think it’s time the dowager queen had a talk with those two.”
Luc found the summons waiting for him when he arrived at his office just after sunrise. He hadn’t gotten much sleep after kissing Juliet in the fountain last night. He got hot just thinking about it. He couldn’t believe he’d made out with her like some randy teenager.
The sound of one of the palace guards beginning his nightly rounds had finally brought him to his senses last night. He’d helped Juliet scramble out of the fountain, then watched her as she grabbed her shoes and ran barefoot into the palace without saying a word to him.