Page 4 of Royally Knocked Up (Princes of Passion #1)

ENZO

E nzo waved to the woman who had introduced him to everyone else. “Can I get a cup of coffee?” he asked her, holding out his mug.

“There’s a coffee pot over in the corner,” she told him.

He pressed the mug into her hands. “Thanks. You’re a doll.”

She stood there for a moment, but then she seemed to get the idea and turned and walked off. Enzo nodded to himself. Things would run much more smoothly around here once everyone realized that, as the prince, he was to be both obeyed and tended to.

“She was trying to tell you to get the coffee yourself.”

The speaker was the same woman who had tried to get Enzo to remove his glasses — a strawberry blonde with flashing blue eyes and an American accent. Enzo studied her from behind his shades, wondering whether the disrespect was an American thing.

“She’s got it under control,” he said.

“You’re just used to people serving you, I guess.”

“Pretty used to it, yeah.”

The woman returned with his coffee. Enzo accepted it and took a sip. “Thanks, boss,” he said.

She nodded. She didn’t smile. He wondered why not — he’d called her boss , after all. She must feel validated by that. Maybe she was just having a bad day.

This job was going to be a pain. He couldn’t believe he had been placed on an events planning team.

He knew exactly how that was going to turn out.

Since his identity wasn’t under wraps here — how could it be, when his was one of the most famous faces in the country?

— everyone who came here for their events was going to see him as an attraction placed here for their entertainment.

He would spend party after party shaking hands, doing meet-and-greets, answering questions about his father.

How tiresome! Enzo didn’t mind being recognized for who he was, of course, but it was usually having a few drinks that made that sort of thing tolerable.

Well, there had to be a bar around here somewhere, and it wasn’t as if he was going to get fired for having a little fun on the job. Hell, he’d love to get fired. But he was sure he was immune to such things.

The important thing was to act as if he was settling in so that he could get out from under their scrutiny as quickly as possible.

The sooner everyone stopped paying attention to him, the sooner he would be able to slip away and enjoy his time here.

He wasn’t planning to contact his father the entire time leading up to the coronation, either — not even to tell him that he had reached the resort.

Someone would, of course — his father would be told that he had arrived at La Fantasia.

But he wouldn’t be sure what Enzo was doing, and Enzo thought there was a chance his father wouldn’t go to the trouble of trying to find out.

He couldn’t possibly be that upset about a few nights at various bars. This would all blow over.

For now, though, he was good and stuck. That was why he had stopped on the way up here.

He’d wanted to give himself a last hurrah — a chance to party before he was on his own for two months straight.

And he had also hoped that his picture would be taken in the bar he’d stopped at.

Let his father enjoy that — one last send-off from the son who was too difficult to be kept around. Let him see what he could make of it!

He sat back in his chair, sipping his coffee. His gaze returned to the American woman, who was drinking from a bottle of seltzer water.

Her eyes kept coming back to him too. He wondered whether she had noticed that — whether she realized he had noticed it.

“What are you looking at?” he asked her.

If she was affected, she didn’t show it. “I’m looking at the only person who’s wearing sunglasses indoors,” she said. “Are you hiding an injury?”

“You’re so interested in my sunglasses.”

“It’s not that bright in here. I’m just curious. You have to admit, it’s an odd choice.”

Enzo removed his shades, folded them slowly, and placed them on the table. “Are you happy?”

“It does make it easier to get to know a person when you can look him in the eyes.”

“And you’re so interested in getting to know me?”

“Well, I’m going to be working as a member of this team,” she said. “I’m interested in getting to know everyone.”

“I’ll bet you’ve never met a prince before.”

“I can’t say that I have, no.” She cocked her head at him. “Have you ever met an American before?”

“There are a lot more Americans in this world than there are princes,” he told her. “Of course I’ve met a few of them. Did you think I might not have?”

“You never know.”

“I suppose you’d want me to believe that it’s a common occurrence for Americans to be as rude as you are,” he said.

“I don’t think my behavior comes across as rude to most people,” the woman countered.

“I asked you about your sunglasses — well, they were odd. I’m not the only one who noticed that.

I’m just the only one who said something about it.

Meanwhile, you’re expecting people to fetch you coffee — and I doubt you’ve even bothered to remember my name. ”

She had him there, little though he liked to admit it. He knew everyone in this room had been introduced to him, but he hadn’t remembered any names. “Jennifer?”

“It’s Hailey ,” she said.

He held up his hands in mock defense. “Sorry. Hailey from America. I won’t forget again.”

She sighed. “You know what, I’m going to go get a muffin.”

She rose to her feet and went back to the buffet.

Enzo watched her go, aware that everyone else at the table was still watching him . “Well,” he said, “she’s something else, isn’t she?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” an eager voice said — obviously, somebody wanted to please Enzo.

It was the sort of treatment he was used to, and yet he found that he wasn’t enjoying it today.

He usually liked it when people agreed with him.

But there had been something engaging about the way Hailey from America had spoken to him — something he didn’t expect any of the rest of them were going to be capable of replicating.

It had startled him.

Lunch came to an end and they were given the rest of the day to themselves. The woman who was in charge — Enzo heard someone refer to her as Isla , and he filed the name away for future reference — approached him.

“Your Highness,” she said.

“Enzo will be fine.” There wouldn’t be any need for formalities — everyone here knew who he was. If they were reminded of it at every turn, it might start to feel like a joke to them. The better move was to demonstrate that he could be humble and self-effacing — a man of the people.

“Enzo, then,” Isla said. “I know you’re more than familiar with the grounds. Is there something we can do to make you comfortable as you settle in here? Do you need help in your suite?”

“I was told that the staff would be checking to see whether one of the luxury suites might be available for my use.” He had been assigned to a staff suite, which was infuriating. This was still his family’s resort. He might be here on a ridiculous assignment from his father, but he wasn’t staff .

Isla nodded. “As far as I’m aware, those rooms are all occupied. You know better than anyone how quickly this place books.”

“Perhaps someone can be downgraded to a standard room.”

“I would need the permission of the owner to make a move like that,” Isla said.

“Well, you’re looking at him.”

She shifted uncomfortably and said nothing.

He understood. “You won’t do it without my father’s say-so.”

“He was clear that the day-to-day operations of the lodge were not to be disrupted by your presence,” Isla said. “He told me to let him know if anything like that happened.”

“I don’t see how giving me a room befitting my station is a disruption.” Enzo sighed. “You’ll let me know if anything opens up.”

“Of course,” Isla said. “In the meantime, I’m sure you’ll find the staff suite very comfortable.”

Enzo was sure it was fine. His father had always emphasized the importance of treating members of staff well. It was just the principle of the thing. How could he be relegated to staff quarters when his family owned this place? It was wrong.

He wandered away from Isla, down the staff hall.

He’d never been in this part of the resort before today.

There had been no reason to come this way.

It was functional, where the rest of the resort was beautiful.

Instead of the heavy oak doors that made up the rest of the building, the door to his room here was made of gray fiberglass.

He unlocked it with a key instead of a key card — for some reason, that felt significant — and went inside.

It was small. That was the first thing he had noticed when he had been shown to this room upon his arrival, but he hadn’t spent enough time here then to really register the size of it.

Now he did. There was hardly room to move with all his suitcases here.

He was going to have to stow them under the bed or something — but the bed was another problem.

Instead of his usual massive king bed, this one was a queen size that seemed barely large enough to accommodate two people.

Not that there were going to be any instances of two people sharing this bed.

Even Enzo knew better than to conduct an affair with a guest or a member of the staff.

If his father had threatened banishment for drinking at a bar, there was no telling what he would do if he found out Enzo had been philandering with his employees.

He grabbed the ice bucket. He would go get some ice, he decided, and then he would see if it was possible to order a drink to be sent to this room. No one had ever mentioned anything about his having to go straight-edge while he was here. Surely the bar would serve him.

But as he left his room and made his way down the hall, he saw the American woman walking toward him in the opposite direction.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Your Highness.”

Even though he’d allowed Isla to call him by his first name, he kind of liked the honorific in her American accent. “Hailey.”

“Where are you headed? I’d assumed you’d be sleeping it off in your room.”

“Sleeping it off?”

“I’m not blind,” she said. “I can tell you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk. Maybe a little tipsy.”

“Right.”

“And I’m really not the sleep it off type . ”

“Forgive me. I didn’t realize that was a type.”

“If you’re going to spend your time at parties, you have to be able to do it without it interfering with you the life you want to live,” he said. “I’m far too young to spend every day in bed until three in the afternoon recovering from the fun I had the night before. Do you do that?”

“I don’t have as much fun as you do,” she said. “So I don’t require the same recovery time.”

He grinned. “Well, that’s a pity.”

He passed her and went around the corner, trying to ignore the slight unease he felt.

She was an American, and yet it was clear that she knew him by reputation.

Of course, anyone might know of Enzo’s reputation. He was so frequently featured in the tabloids that all she would have had to do would be to pick up a magazine at the Monteverde airport.

The thing that troubled Enzo was that if an American who hadn’t been in the country for very long knew about him, maybe that meant that his father was right .

Maybe his reputation was starting to get out of control.

He didn’t want to think that was true. But it was hard to brush off this new piece of evidence. His father had always been judgmental, but here was a total stranger who seemed to agree with his father’s assessment.

Enzo frowned and shook his head. All she’d really said was that he knew how to have a good time, and that was unquestionably true.

He wouldn’t let it get under his skin. He would serve his time here, and then he would go home, and that would be that.