Page 9 of Prince

Chapter Two

Sea Breeze

Dree

Cramps spiked through Dree Clark’s fingers and up both her wrists.

Knives of pain sliced through her shoulders, which hovered near her ears.

Under her feet and butt, the helicopter jittered as it banked, nearly rolling over on its side and slanting so hard that she was falling sideways.

A wispy seatbelt held her in the velvet-upholstered, cushiony seat.

Dree could seefar too much oceanout of the side window that looked straight down into deep blue, glittering terror.

She squeezed her eyes shut and squeaked, “Hail Mary, Full of Grace, The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, andat the hour of our death.”

The hour of Dree’s death wasright nowand she was going todieand oh God oh Mary pleaseget her out of this helicopter.

She screamed silently into the darkness of her closed eyes.

Seven minutes later, the helicopter landed on a helipad in Monaco.

Her jaw clenched so tightly that she was sure her teeth had fused together.

Somewhere outside of the darkness of her clamped-shut eyelids, a man’s gravelly voice said, “Ms. Clark, you can open your eyes now. We’ve landed.”

The howling throb of the helicopter rotors did seem to be slowing.

The floor of the helicopter was more stable under her feet, not tilting anymore.

She lifted one eyebrow, prying her eyelids apart.

Sunlight blazed between her eyelashes.

She chanced a look outside the helicopter through the wide window.

On the inland side, past a chain-link fence, mountains encrusted with tall, pastel-colored buildings climbed into the pristine sky.

A few people stood outside the fence, pointing cameras with bazooka-sized lenses at the helicopter or whispering into their phones. A squat red-brick building that looked like it had been built in the fifties interrupted the helipad’s fence.

The whine of the rotors above her died away, and Dree glanced out of the bulbous front windshield of the helicopter. People were already stepping out of the first helicopter that had flown from Nice, France, lifting off just three minutes before the one she’d ridden in.

The people disembarking from the first chopper were Maxence, that guy Quentin Sault, who’d come to take him back to Monaco, and some more of his military guys. They walked toward the door of the small building, not acknowledging the few paparazzi outside the fence.

Max strode as he walked, a vision of powerful, sexy masculinity in a well-tailored suit. Sunlight glinted off his tanned skin, and a breeze toyed with his thick, black hair. His hard cheekbones and jawline cast shadows on his skin, a handsomeness reminiscent of sophisticated old-Hollywood movie stars. His gait was powerful and athletic, the movement of a healthy, confident man. Even the way he jabbed the asphalt with his heels looked arrogant.

The shorter security men scurried to keep up with his long-legged stride while they squinted at the reporters outside the fence.

Because Dree was nowstaff,she hadn’t rated riding on the first helicopter with His Serene Highness, Prince Maxence of Monaco, Count of Wherever, Lord of Someplace She’d Never Heard Of, Emperor of His Own Massively Inflated Ego, the Duke of Stick Up His Noble Ass, and Royal Guy Who Evidently Didn’t Want to Get Laid if He Treated People Like That.

If Maxence really was a prince of this whole country, shouldn’t there be a whole lot more media here to take his picture? Like Princess Di or something? Just because he was ridiculously rich didn’t make himroyal.Those very few photographers might just be aviation enthusiasts who were there for the helicopters.

Her helicopter’s door scraped as it opened, and the otherstaffbegan scooting toward the wind blowing into the cabin of their aircraft.

The breeze smelledgreat.

Shocked, Dree froze with her palms on the velvet seat and inhaled hard, sucking in the freshest air she’d ever smelled. The cool, damp air soothed her nose and throat as she breathed it in, bringing her the scents of crisp cotton sheets dried outside in the springtime and God’s creation of the Earth.“Wow.”