Page 33 of Some Like It Scandalous (Going Royal #2)
“Oh, I’m sure it will be a blast.” She left him to sleep and walked out to find Kyle and the others waiting for her. Still chewing over what she knew and what she didn’t, who he was and whom the world saw.
She waited until they were in the car and leaned forward. “Kyle?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“How long have you worked for Ch—the prince?”
“About five years, ma’am. Usually his American stops, but occasionally in Europe.”
“Can I ask you a question?” She nibbled the inside of her lip.
“Of course. I can’t promise to answer it, though.
Discretion is inherent to our position.” He gave her an easy smile, but she understood.
They’d explained this to her from the beginning—they would never discuss what she did or said in their presence, she had to trust them implicitly for the security team to be able to protect her.
She thought about the question long and hard. “Has the prince ever provided a private security detail for the women he’s dated?”
They were passing through downtown on the way back to the tower before Kyle answered. “When they travel with him, they are usually under his security detail. But a private detail for them directly? No, ma’am. Not that I’m aware of.”
Anna leaned back. Charlie was Prince Armand. Prince Armand was Charlie. He didn’t share that part of himself with the rest of the world—he’d reserved Charlie for her. He’d assigned a protection detail to her.
He was offering her a million reasons to leave. Is he afraid of me—or for me?
But she only needed one reason—him—to stay.
“Are you still planning to arrive at the event center at five p.m., Miss Novak?”
“Yes, I am. As long as security is comfortable with that.” She needed a perfect time to prove to him that she loved him—all of him.
Charlie and Armand both. She wanted this relationship, she loved him, she craved him and she needed to show him.
Tonight was the first step, with all the pressure and hell he was under, she wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of their past.
She caught sight of the tower in the distance and for the first time, she didn’t see a glass prison or lofty palace in the sky. She saw home. Excitement and anticipation fluttered in her belly. It wouldn’t be easy—her prince was a stubborn, stubborn man.
But I’m no pushover… He can try to shut me out, but time crumbles all walls…
ARMAND
The FBI arrived at the tower on Armand’s way out.
Security called down to the car and they drove back to the elevator to meet the pair of agents.
Thomason, the senior agent Armand spoke to the day of Richard’s accident, and his partner, Fitch, looked pleased—well, as pleased as two federal agents might.
“Your Highness, thank you for meeting us, we’ll try not to keep you.” Thomason led the discussion and held out his phone with a photograph on it. The man resembled Yuri Markov, save for the conspicuous lack of tattoos.
“This is Dmitri Markov, Yuri’s younger brother. Not sure how he slipped our net, but we picked him up at LAX yesterday afternoon on an outbound flight for Belaria. His rental car was in long-term parking and contained long-range photographic equipment.”
Armand studied the man’s expression. There was a vacant emptiness in Markov’s eyes. He rarely saw up close those who would hurt him and his family. Violence surged through him. “Has he confessed?”
“No. But he was here on a forged passport, the name didn’t match his and we have enough to hold him.
Fortunately, he didn’t think to clean out his car—the man was a slob—and we found receipts to three different motels.
His brother Yuri was staying at one until two days ago.
Now he’s in the wind, but we know where he was and we’re putting together a profile on where he’s been so we can anticipate where he might be next. ”
Returning Agent Thomason’s phone, Armand frowned. “So we have one in custody, and one still at large.”
“As far as we can tell. We’d like to ask you to not attend your event tonight. Keep a low profile for a few days and let us track this guy down.”
“Absolutely not.” He had no intentions of keeping a low profile. If Yuri Markov wanted to kill an Andraste, he would have one single target to focus on: Armand. His security was ready—even if they didn’t approve.
“Your Highness…” Fitch interjected. “We can’t guarantee your safety. While there have been no new threats issued, the presence of yourself and Miss Novak at the same event—whatever is setting these guys off, if they want to make a statement, this is where they will do it.”
His gut clenched. Anna had left an hour earlier.
Peterson assured him they’d doubled her detail for the night and Kyle Johnson would be at her side at all times along with two female bodyguards.
They would keep her safe and after tonight…
After tonight the bull’s-eye he’d painted on her back would be gone.
“Thank you for your concern, gentlemen. But we postponed this event once, we will be proceeding as planned. We’ve taken security into account.
Please let me know what happens with Markov.
” At least they got the bastard who hurt Richard.
It was a small recompense for his friend’s injuries, but better than leaving the man at large.
In the car again, Armand motioned for the driver to get them under way. He still had three stops to make before the event center. He glanced at his watch. They would arrive after the official beginning, but he planned the timing for maximum attention.
ANNA
“We are coming to you live from the Cross Concert Hall and Event Center here in Los Angeles where the Andraste Grand Duke, Prince Armand, is hosting a gala to launch the Princess Alyxandretta Dagmar Scholarship. This is a fund dedicated to foster children who might not otherwise be able to afford college. Hosting this event alongside the prince is Miss Anna Novak, the administrative director for the fund and, according to many reports, the prince’s first love.
The two reunited recently after a near ten-year separation.
All royal watchers will be on this couple tonight—could another royal wedding be in the offing? ”
Anna smoothed a hand down the velvet-and-silk royal-blue dress.
It cost her over five hundred dollars and was worth every penny.
The snug bodice emphasized her curves, while the flaring skirt gave it an air of whimsy.
She wore very simple jewelry and sedate cosmetics.
This event was about the scholarship, not her.
Her hair gathered back from her face and spilled down from a simple knot in the back.
She’d let the curls do their thing and practiced her smile in the mirror while she got ready.
She’d hoped to see Charlie before she left, but he’d been on a call in his office and left word to not be disturbed.
But she suspected Charlie knew the color of her dress, because a black velvet box waited for her on her bed.
She glanced down at her wrist and smiled at the sapphire and diamond bracelet.
It was simple, elegant—and utterly unexpected.
More so was the note with it. You will be magnificent tonight, never forget you are a treasure.
He confused the hell out of her.
She arrived early enough to walk the ballroom.
Kyle and his men wore tuxedos, blending in with the crowd—not that their six-foot-plus statures, square jaws and broad shoulders weren’t noticeable, but she understood.
They each wore flesh-colored earbuds, and if she hadn’t known what to look for, she might have overlooked it.
Better to let them do their jobs while I do mine.
The guests began trickling in at five after seven.
Required to pass through two checkpoints, they were greeted by waitstaff offering champagne flutes.
Anna agreed to mingle on one side of the room only, away from the main entrance, and it didn’t take her long to be drawn into conversations with a dozen different guests.
She shook hands, talked about the scholarship and received numerous pledges.
Kate attended alongside her, thankfully.
She carried a digital tablet, took personal information, noting the donation numbers and more.
Anna’s head whirled as they moved through the crowd.
The turnout was enormous. Of the twelve hundred guests invited, Kate told her over seven hundred were in attendance.
Since they were charging a thousand dollars a plate, they had already earned a huge amount for the fund.
At exactly a quarter to eight, a stir rolled through the crowd and Anna turned from greeting the head of a movie studio to see Charlie arriving. The nervous flutters in her stomach doubled, then plummeted.
He wasn’t alone.
The Grand Duke Armand made a hell of a noise when he entered the crowded ballroom with not one, but three women—including his former paramour Nikole holding on to his right arm.
He looked devastating in his black tuxedo, his charming smile lighting up his dark looks.
His hair feathered rakishly across his forehead.
Instantly captivated, the crowd surged toward him.
Men shook his hand. Women curtsied. Photographers snapped his picture. The buxom blonde model on his arm looked across the room, her gaze cutting into Anna’s with a look of such utter triumph in her brittle smile.
Stomach aching, Anna forced her own smile to stay in place. When Armand seemingly glanced across the room at her, he spared her the briefest of nods. She returned it, trying to ignore the sucker-punched feeling in her abdomen and the cascade of hot, then cold, racing over her skin.
The executive seemed to sense her distraction and excused himself. Anna glanced at Kyle. “I need a moment,” she murmured.