The Prince's Runaway Lover (Men of the Zodiac) Read online

  Every head swiveled in his direction and twelve pairs of eyes bore into his own. He tried to read the expressions, but they were all superb poker players because he got nothing. It was clear they were all waiting for his signal and then he would be allowed to know what they thought was the best course of action. He couldn’t blame them; showing a desire for the future king to step down would not bode well for a long-lasting alliance if the king decided to stay.

  The opportunity was here for him to take. All he had to do was say the word, sign a few papers, and he could go back to his old life. He could move from city to city, mountain to mountain, and never worry about pleasing any of these people ever again. It was enticing and in this case, the Devil he knew.

  He was the son of King William and the brother of King Alec and while he didn’t want this job, he was also a man who rose to a challenge and fought when he was the underdog.

  He spoke, measuring his words carefully, knowing that they could make or break potential alliances. “You are all aware that I did not ask for this duty, for this burden. How could I wish for it when the only way to get it is by the death of someone I loved? But the Duke of Rushing forgot that I am a man who loves a good competition and he has just thrown down the gauntlet. I will not abdicate my place on the throne in favor of Rushing. If he wants it, he will have to take it.”

  Lord Beauchamp cleared his throat before speaking. “With all due respect, Your Royal Highness, the rule of Callanos is not a bone to be fought over by dogs.”

  “Then you understand nothing about history because that is exactly what every throne has ever been. Wars have been fought over it, little boys killed in towers over it, entire families massacred for it. Make no mistake that some men who seek the throne do it only because it is a bauble they don’t want anyone else to have. The Duke of Rushing is that type of man.”

  The rumbles around the table were low but tinged with disagreement. Nicholas stole a glance at Chris who was giving him the “you need to work on your people skills” look again. He raised his hands to quiet the murmurings.

  “I don’t mean to imply that I see this only as a game, but let’s not sugarcoat exactly why Rushing has done this. He wants the power that comes with the crown and I’ve made no secret that it does not interest me in the least.” He let a smile lift his lips a little before he continued. “I’m the first one to admit that I have thoroughly enjoyed all the perks of being a prince.” He let the answering chuckles die down before he continued. “I did not seek this out but I cannot in good conscience fail to fight for it on behalf of my family.”

  “So are you ready to follow our lead on matters of state?” Lord Rone asked.

  Nicholas shook his head. “No. I will not follow you in all things. I must rule as I see fit and in a way that lets me hold my head up with pride.”

  The grumbles started all over again and Nicholas wondered if he was dealing with a bunch of surly toddlers who acted out when they didn’t get their way instead of grown men educated and bred to lead. He stood, using his height to his advantage. They had to look up to see him and their chatter died out.

  “If I am king then I will be king on my own terms in the things that mean the most to me.” He pondered his next statement, thinking that his mother would be happy with his attempt at diplomacy. “I am a champion, a man who takes on opponents and defeats them. I am not someone who compromises easily, but I put this on the table. I will work harder to give the public the confidence that I am willing to take on my new role as sovereign, including more appearances and travel to other countries to strengthen the alliance for Callanos.”

  “Will you begin the search for a queen?” Lord Batton asked. “That will go a long way toward convincing people you are fit to rule.”

  Nicholas considered what he was really saying with his request and comment. He could not afford to be seen with women who would not be suitable to be his queen. The people and parliament had very different standards for the heir and the spare.

  “If eligible women are brought to my attention I will be charming.”

  Isabel surfaced in his thoughts and he counted off how many ways she did not fit the criteria for “eligible.” He regretted it because she was the first woman to truly interest him in a long time.

  “And the refugee question? You will abandon your desire to do more than what has already been pledged?” Lord Rone asked, his body posture communicating that he knew he was opening a huge can of worms.

  “No. I think we should be doing more and I insist on getting the full report I requested.” Nicholas cut off the grumbling before it could begin this time. “We can’t sit here in one of the richest countries in the world and ignore people who are literally living on our doorstep.”

  “Your position is unpopular with some of the members of parliament,” Lord North said.

  “I know it is unpopular with several people in this room, but I will not budge on this point. If it is enough for you to take the side of Rushing then so be it.”

  “You’re making a big demand for someone who needs us,” Lord Beauchamp said, his tone implying that he was already in Rushing’s court.

  Nicholas smiled, taking the time to make direct eye contact with each man at the table. “Don’t forget how much you need me. The Lyttons have ruled Callanos for a long time and except for a small and vocal minority, the people love the monarchy. My father and brother were two of the most beloved kings in the world and I am their heir and the most visible face of any monarchy in the world. Our main business is excess, money, and glamour and I know how to bottle it and sell it better than anyone, so let’s not start a tally of who needs who more.”

  The silence was complete and heavy with the challenge laced into every word he spoke. This was not going to be easy and he knew that he would not carry the day with every person in this room but he only needed enough to vote down Rushing’s challenge.

  “I think we are done for today,” Lord Batton said, dismissing the other members. “We can address other matters tomorrow morning at our regular session.”

  The members of the council filed out, waiting until they exited before beginning a low rumble of conversation.

  The door closed behind him and he sat down and opened the folder at his place on the table. “So, Lord Batton, how many votes does Rushing need to oust me from the throne?”

  “He needs the majority of parliament, twenty-one votes.”

  Nicholas nodded, skimming down the one-page FAQ placed on top. “What happens next?”

  “I need to appoint two members of the council to conduct fitness inquiries on both Your Royal Highness and the Duke of Rushing.”

  “Can I suggest that Lord Beauchamp be one of the members?”

  Lord Batton looked confused. “He is not one of your supporters.”

  “I know but I think we need to have the leadership fairly balanced between men on both sides of the fence to ensure the integrity of the process. I’m used to competition at the international level and I learned early that I didn’t like losing but I really hated it when I thought the judging was unfair.” He smiled at Lord Batton who had a gleam in his eyes that strongly resembled approval. “When I win this challenge, I want everyone to know that it was reached in a fair and just manner.”

  His advisor nodded, barely hiding the smile that pulled at his lips. “Then I suggest Lord Rone as the second member. He is firmly in your camp and will be a good counterbalance with Beauchamp.”

  “It sounds like a plan, then.” Nicholas rose to his feet, anxious to end this meeting. The day had been a long one and with the sheaf of papers in his hand, it looked like it wouldn’t end anytime soon.

  Lord Batton stood with him, gathering his papers and placing them in his briefcase. He shut the case and paused, looking up and directly at Nicholas.

  “This is not a joke, Your Royal Highness.”

  “I didn’t think it was.”

  “You cannot afford any scandal or controversy at this point. The Duke of Rushi
ng will use any misstep you make against you.”

  “I would expect nothing less.”

  “I was surprised you didn’t take the chance to be done with all of this.” His advisor gestured around the council room before returning his gaze to Nicholas. “I am glad you didn’t.”

  “Can I ask why? We haven’t had the easiest working relationship.” He smiled and admitted what the older gentleman was too mindful of protocol to admit. “I’m a huge pain in the ass.”

  “Your father was a pain in the ass too but he was a wonderful king.” Lord Batton laughed, gathering up his case and his jacket and heading toward the door. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at Nicholas. “You remind me so much of him.”

  Nicholas remained on his feet until the door clicked shut behind the older man, and then he slumped down into the chair, the weight of his decision bearing him down. He’d made his choice to fight for his place on the throne and while panic rose up in his throat so did his competitive instinct. He didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he would win this fight and figure out a way to be king on his own terms.

  Chapter Four

  “I need you to approve of these changes for the gardens, Your Royal Highness,” Paul Arzos said as he completed the presentation with his usual brusque delivery. No bells and whistles for Paul, just the facts and the barest of those most of the time.

  Nick glanced over the blueprints, pleased with what he saw there. The gardens would be a wonderful tribute to his mother and a perfect place for the public to enjoy a day in the sun surrounded by the exotic blooms. The paths were wide, the beds lush, but there were plenty of spaces for people to picnic with their friends and family.

  He’d announced the grand reopening of the gardens that morning at a press conference and even kissed a baby or two when they were pressed into his hands as he’d walked the crowd after the ceremony. He’d shaken hands and taken selfies with locals and tourists, but he’d declined to autograph a young woman’s breasts and discarded the phone numbers pressed into his hands on little slips of paper. If the expression on Lord Batton’s face was any indication, he’d exceeded his expectations.

  But the coup de grace was planning the reopening of the gardens to coincide with his coronation in six weeks. Anyone who was paying attention would see the date for what it was; a direct challenge to Rushing by remaining confident that the coronation would happen as scheduled.

  “These changes are truly excellent, Paul. You have exceeded my expectations.” He smiled and extended a hand to the older man he’d known since he was a boy. Well into his sixties, he was still a large man with a ready grin and only a sprinkling of gray in his hair. His skin was dark from days spent in the elements and his hands were calloused from years of hard labor, but he was solid, an institution at the palace. “The addition of the pavilion and the green open spaces was genius.”

  “I can’t claim credit for that, sir. My new assistant gardener came up with the new configuration. She thought we needed a better way to showcase the orchids and provide more room to breathe.”

  “Isabel Reynolds.”

  Paul’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’ve met her?”

  “I have.”

  “They’re running partners,” Chris said from his side of the table as he pretended to examine the blueprints. Nick caught his smirk and made a note to put his boot up his best friend’s ass as soon as he got the chance.

  “Running partners?” Paul asked, his confusion making him throw his hands up in a question.

  “We meet up to run every morning,” Nick said, wondering how much he could ask without tipping his hand on just how much Isabel intrigued him. They’d met up again the past two mornings and it had been as before, silent and intense. The only difference was the nod and a smile she gave him at the beginning and the end. He hated to think of how much that smile made his day and how much he wanted to talk to her. The smoky timbre to her voice and southern accent with the hint of Hispanic pronunciation of her name and some distinct words had been a wonderfully sexy surprise. “Quite by accident, but it has become something of a habit for us both.”

  “Well, she’s an excellent landscape designer. I would swear she’s had formal training,” Paul said as he gently rolled up the blueprints and shoved them into a tube. “But she hasn’t, according to her resume. I was worried about hiring her in the first place and now I’m in a panic that she isn’t going to stay.”

  “Stay?” Nick asked, the twinge of panic in his gut catching him off guard. Why did he care? But he did. He cared if Isabel was moving on to something else, somewhere else. “Where’s she going?”

  Paul shook his head. “No idea, sir. She showed up here from a private garden in Belgium with a referral from an old friend of mine and I hired her on the spot. She gives me 100 percent every day, but I’ve gotten the impression she always has one foot out the door.”

  Nick didn’t like the sound of that, the unsettled feeling creeping up his spine usually reserved for when he’d spent too long in one place or gone too long without pushing his body to the limit. He’d gotten the same vibe off her a few nights before when he’d started asking questions about her past. And that answer to his question about her motivation to train—he’d heard people say a million times that they wanted to lose weight, prove something to themselves, or become strong. No one had ever told him they didn’t want to be weak. Again. It was not something he wanted to discuss with the man in front of him who had to work with Isabel.

  “Thanks again, Paul.” He extended his hand and gave the man a firm shake before watching him as he exited his office. He glanced down at the second copy of the blueprints lying on his desk and he spread them out, examining the changes to the plans as if they held the answers to the questions ricocheting around in his head.

  The additions were subtle but finely engineered to accent and enhance without being obvious. Nick reached over and opened his drawer, pulling out the file he’d requested the morning after meeting Isabel Reynolds. He opened it and scanned the contents, frowning over the lack of any formal training in landscape design or botany in her past. A liberal arts degree from the University of Alabama in English, jobs here and there leading up to the last few in some capacity at gardens in Belgium and France. All manual labor positions, none of them hinting at the design acumen displayed on his desk.

  She’d passed all of the security checks, her background unremarkable and free of any indication of threat to the royal family. He couldn’t be entirely sure if the hesitation on her part was due to his position or the fact that she had something to hide.

  “What are you, stalker prince?” Chris asked as he looked over his shoulder. “You had her file pulled?”

  “I have to know who I’m…” Nick hesitated at how to characterize what he was contemplating with Isabel. It wasn’t business and he wasn’t on the market for personal. Not with all the new shit in his life. He needed to figure out how to rule before he worried about his personal life. And when he finally had time for a real personal life, an assistant gardener was never going to make the short list.

  But he couldn’t get her dark eyes out of his mind or the tilt of her mouth when she smiled, the right side turning up more with her grin. Or the sleek, muscled, and curvy outline of her body in ancient cut-off jeans, a threadbare white T-shirt and the hot pink bra strap that peeked out of the neckline when she moved.

  “What are you doing with this woman?” Chris held up a hand as he slid into the chair opposite the desk. “And don’t give me that crap about being running buddies. What happened when you went to her cottage the other evening?”

  “I scared the hell out of her for one thing,” he said on a laugh as he paced over the finely detailed oriental rug at his feet. The dark swirls of black with hints of the deep auburn reminded him of Isabel’s hair as the lamplight and sundown hit it.

  He’d wanted to reach out and tug it out of the ponytail and feel it glide across his fingers. He’d never seen it d
own around her shoulders and he wondered how long it would be unencumbered. Long enough for him to wrap around his fist as he pulled her in closer for a kiss? The weight of it heavy as it slid over his exposed flesh? Hell, he’d been trained from childhood to limit the amount he actually touched people, especially strangers. Years on athletic teams and depending on other men and women to help him as he navigated physically grueling and sometimes dangerous terrain had loosened that rule quite a bit, but he was still reserved around most people. With Isabel he’d barely been able to keep from touching her all the time, extending out every brush of their fingers. It was crazy and completely off-limits.

  “From the look on your face, I’d say she got over her fright pretty quickly.”

  “She did and we hit it off. There were the awkward moments because of who I am, but at the end there we were just Nick and Isabel.” He flashed a look at his best friend who looked back in understanding. “You know how hard that is for me to have that with any woman.”

  “And normally you don’t mind the difficulty.”

  “I don’t mind it at all.” The distance kept the women he fucked at arm’s length no matter how much time they spent in his bed. He’d been careful and never promised what he had no interest in delivering. His reputation for bedding the willing was well-deserved. He had no interest in being tied down to anyone anytime soon, especially since he had to get it right the first time now. Kings did not divorce in Callanos no matter what they did in other countries. The woman he chose had to be the one. “But Isabel intrigues me.”

  “The fact that she wasn’t angling for the crown the minute she laid eyes on you or the woman?”