Prince Ever After Page 2

  She’d settled for the job at the museum because it was the closest thing she had to the life she really wanted. Grand Serenity was her home. She’d been born there and had never entertained the thought of leaving the beautiful island. She could paint in the evenings in the comfort of her home, but during the day she shared the history and the artifacts of her heritage. It was a complete picture, even if deep down she wished for something more.

  On the other hand, her father, Hugo Harrington, was a totally different subject, one Val had been struggling with her entire life. Her mother had died in childbirth. Val was Hugo’s only child. His only daughter. That hadn’t been Hugo’s plan. He’d wanted sons to carry on the Harrington name, to stand next to the royal family in the place he’d always thought was owed him thanks to his father’s contributions to the battle that put the DeSaunters family in the palace.

  It was an old story, one that Hugo had told Val over and over while Val was growing up. It was also the reason Hugo drank and gambled more than he had ever worked to support Val. It was a good thing Val had been a cute child and that one of the women her father had fallen into bed with had worked for a beauty pageant. From the time Val was six years old until her sixteenth birthday, she and her father had lived comfortably on her winnings from being a participant in one pageant after another.

  But by the time she was sixteen, Val was done. She had refused to do another pageant. That was nine years ago. Her father had continued to drink, curse, gamble and guilt-trip her ever since.

  Now, he was smiling as Val held a pillow over her chest and glared at him and the man that he’d just escorted into the room. The man who was the prince of this beautiful island she called home.

  “What are you doing? I thought you were going to be out tonight. Why are you...why is he...what are you doing?” she exclaimed. Hugo, who looked as proud as a peacock, dressed in an appropriately colorful shirt and ragged black jeans, grinned.

  “Here’s your winnings,” Hugo replied clapping his beefy hand onto the prince’s shoulder. “She’s a beauty, isn’t she? I mean, really she is. Got all the pageant prizes to say so. Now, I know what you’re thinking...”

  To Val’s complete mortification, her father continued to talk, his words oddly clear even though she could smell the liquor oozing from his pores from across the room.

  “Sure, she was promised to Prince Kristian. But he’s all married up now to that American. So there’s no harm, no foul here. You can have her and this’ll settle our debt,” Hugo announced with another smile.

  “Dad!” Val yelled. “Are you crazy?”

  He ignored her, something he’d been doing for most of her life. Despite sharing his DNA, Val never really felt like his daughter. More often than not, she was his commodity.

  “Get out! I want both of you to get out!” she screamed.

  The window behind her was open and a warm breeze blew in, reminding her that she only wore her work pants, shoes and a bra. The pillow in front of her was certainly large enough to keep her covered, but still, she was standing there in her bra. She was so angry her hands were beginning to shake and she thought for one instant that she might actually lose her grip on the pillow and then...what? She would be flashing the prince of Grand Serenity. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she was wearing her old cotton bra with the broken snap in the back. Yeah, this was the perfect Friday night scenario.

  “I apologize, ma’am,” the prince said before giving her a slight bow and then turning to her father. “I’ll speak to you outside, Harrington.”

  The prince walked out of the room but her father stayed. “Put some clothes on and come out to meet the prince. You’re embarrassing me,” he said in what was supposed to be a whisper, but Val was certain everyone in the vicinity could hear his drunken words.

  She made a sound that was animalistic, which was all that she could muster. She was so freakin’ angry. She was embarrassed as hell, too, but the anger was really trying to take over.

  The minute that door closed, Val grabbed her work shirt and shoved her arms back through the openings. She buttoned it hastily and grabbed her purse and bag. When she opened that door minutes later it was, thankfully, to an empty hallway. Her feet couldn’t seem to carry her outside fast enough. A short way down the street she saw her car and hustled to it as quickly as she could. She stopped at the driver’s-side door and cursed again when she remembered her father had her car keys.

  “I can drive you home.”

  No, no, no, she chanted silently without turning around.

  “Your father can’t find your keys. He’s looking, but I doubt he’ll be successful. At least, not until he’s a bit more sober.”

  Realizing that it was rude to keep her back turned to a member of the royal family, Val turned slowly. She looked up into soft brown eyes and sighed.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to him. “I’m sure this is not how you expected to spend your Friday night.”

  Roland DeSaunters was known for the gambling, partying and womanizing that had earned him the Reckless Royal title. Standing on the street offering a ride to a museum worker had to be a far stretch from entertainment to him.

  “I can walk home,” she told him.

  “No. You cannot,” he replied. His gaze had gone down to her chest and back up to her face.

  A quick glance down showed that she’d buttoned her shirt wrong, so that the material was now lopsided with a gap that proudly displayed a good swatch of her sensible white bra.

  Groaning, Val turned away from him. “I can. I will. And I’ll be fine. Thank you and good night, Your Highness.”

  His hand on her arm was a shock—first, because he was the prince and all that royal business. But second, because the quick jolt of heat that had moved from her wrist up to her arm quickly spread across her chest.

  “I cannot let you walk home at this time of night,” he said when he came around to once again stand in front of her. “My car is just up the hill. I’ll carry your bag while we walk and then I’ll take you home.”

  When Val opened her mouth to speak, he simply shook his head.

  “Do you really want to add to your father’s embarrassing circumstances by refusing the prince?”

  She did not. So Val clamped her lips shut and let him slide the bag from her shoulder. She folded her arms and walked beside him, hating every mortifying step she had to take because of her father.

  Chapter 2

  Second only to the royal palace, the Serenade Museum on Grand Serenity Island was a work of art all by itself. No matter how many times Val walked through the corridors of the ensemble of buildings set apart from the island’s Main Street by a stone bridge and its own surrounding water, she marveled at its intricate beauty.

  “The Sunset is the largest of the four buildings that make up the Serenade Museum.” Val spoke to a group of twenty-five tourists. “Each building, as well as the main idea for the museum were designed by Princess Vivienne DeSaunters. These domed ceilings and the circular layout were incorporated after Vivienne had taken a trip to Berlin and became in awe of their museum island.”

  One of the guests raised her hand and stated, “She was from Sugar Land, Texas. My family lives just down the road from the house where her grandparents and parents once lived.”

  Val smiled and quietly acknowledged the woman’s heavy accent as she spoke proudly.

  “Yes, the late Princess Vivienne was from America. She was very proud of her heritage and wanted to bring that same pride to the people of Grand Serenity by showcasing pieces of art that told the story of our island’s beginnings,” Val informed them.

  “As we continue to this area,” she continued while leading the group through an arched opening. “We’ll see the Numismatic Collection which consists of coins that were pulled from the depths of the Caribbean Sea. In the late 1600s, after this
island was acquired by the Netherlands, they were plagued by pirates and thus had to defend the island before life here could really begin to flourish. These coins,” she said as she motioned toward the glass-encased counters, “were actually part of several pirates’ booty. They pay homage to the Golden Age of Piracy which lasted from 1690 to 1730.”

  “Will the new princess continue to approve funding for the museum?”

  Val turned quickly at the odd question and looked up to see it had come from the same woman with the accent.

  “Rumors back in the States say she has a plan to completely overhaul and update this island,” the woman continued while keeping eye contact with Val.

  It was like a challenge, Val thought. Or was it? She didn’t know because she’d never been faced with a tourist who knew more than she did about any topic in this museum. To be completely fair, Malayka Sampson was not a topic at the museum. At least, not until she was actually married to Prince Rafferty. With that in mind, Val decided to proceed with caution. The last thing she wanted to be accused of doing was adding to gossip about a soon-to-be member of the royal family.

  “We are all anticipating the royal wedding,” Val told them.

  She smiled and was just about to walk to another display, which held more coins, when another tourist spoke up.

  “There have been two royal weddings within months of each other. I would say love is definitely in the air here on Grand Serenity,” the much younger woman with a brilliant smile said as she elbowed the handsome guy next to her.

  Val nodded. “I think you could say that. Prince Kristian and Princess Landry are very happy and the new princess is making astounding contributions to the island already. As for Princess Samantha and her husband, Gary, they continue to dedicate their time and talents to the island, as well. The DeSaunters family has always been loyal and dedicated to Grand Serenity.”

  “Do you think the Reckless Royal will ever marry?” the now-familiar woman with the accent asked.

  A man chuckled. “Hell, no! Not if he knows what’s good for him. He’s gonna get way more play from the ladies as a single prince than if he ties himself down with one woman.”

  “Huh! I doubt that,” the younger woman argued. “Ever heard of gold diggers and home wreckers?”

  Murmurs came from the crowd. More opinions, Val supposed, that didn’t involve the museum or her job. Her head was beginning to hurt. After three earlier tours, this was the last one of the day and she really wanted it to be over with so she could go home, take a hot bath and settle in for the night. She did not want to stand there and fend off rumors or make assumptions about the royal family, or anyone else, for that matter.

  “Ever heard of falling in love? Cherishing your wife? Respecting the covenant of marriage?” Yet another woman asked. “I swear, all young people think about these days are one-night stands and monetary compensation for time served in a relationship.”

  “The woman that puts up with Roland DeSaunters’s gambling and philandering should damn well be compensated big-time! Did you see how much money he lost in a poker game just last month? And then the two women he was seen coming out of that hotel in Dubai with?” This woman shook her head in disgust. “He’s gonna be a slippery snake to tame.”

  “Awww, come on. I wouldn’t say all that.”

  Val’s head shot up at the sound of his voice. She had to come up on tiptoes to see over the heads of the people in her group. Seconds after he spoke, the crowd parted like the royal horns were blowing to signal a procession. And there he stood, amidst people who had paid seventy-five dollars per person to tour the island’s famed museums. Prince Roland DeSaunters was dressed in a black suit and a white collarless shirt. A colorful reflection bounced off the silver watch at his wrist, thanks to the sun’s vibrant rays drifting through the large arched windows.

  When nobody spoke again, he walked down the aisle the people had created, coming to a stop beside Val. She had swallowed a number of times in an attempt to find her voice. As the tour guide, she should say something. That was a given. But what exactly was she supposed to say? It wasn’t every day that the prince appeared and inserted himself into a tour.

  “The present is always a juicier topic of discussion than the past,” the prince said to the crowd. “Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Harrington?”

  “That’s it!” the first woman with all the questions about Malayka shouted. “I knew I recognized your face from somewhere. You’re Valora Harrington. You were engaged to Prince Kristian before he dumped you for an American.”

  And now her mortification was complete.

  Not only had seeing Roland again brought back the infuriating memories of last night and her father’s foolish bet, now this woman was touching on yet another embarrassing subject for her. Would it ever end?

  “The prince and I were never engaged,” Val stated evenly. “As the time for arranged marriages has long since come and gone here, the union that was envisioned by my father was highly overrated.”

  “In other words,” Roland added with his standard drop-the-panties smile, “my brother was never committed to any relationship with this woman and therefore could not have been so foolish as to dump her for someone else.”

  Val felt the heat rising immediately. It crept up her neck and filled her face until she almost gasped with the thought that she was actually blushing.

  “Now,” Roland continued with a snap of his fingers. “Let’s move on to more exciting stories. Like the time I found one of these doubloons in an old trunk at the palace. It was quite a find, and my siblings were sick with jealousy because I found it instead of them.”

  He talked so easily as he walked casually through the marble-floored rooms. The tourists, thankfully, jumped right into his tale of treasure discoveries in the royal palace and the possibility of more being left about the island. Val wondered if he knew he had a natural gift for storytelling. That was what he was doing, she thought about twenty minutes later when they were finishing the tour and Roland was coming to a grand finish complete with a tattered map that was said to have belonged to the infamous pirate Blackbeard.

  There had been no need for her to say a word since Roland had covered not only The Sunset building, but The Starlight building, as well. For the latter, he had woven a bit of romantic intrigue into his story, while highlighting some pieces from the antiquities collection and the island’s early history collections.

  Now they were once again coming to stand beneath the domed ceiling in the front entryway. It was about half an hour before closing, so there were other customers milling about this area, as well. When she overheard a member of the group asking if the tour was over, Val remembered she was actually supposed to be working and cleared her throat.

  “Let’s give Prince Roland a hand for the wonderful tour he’s hosted for us this afternoon,” she said and began clapping so that the group members would follow suit.

  Roland looked at her and then back to the crowd, but Val did not continue to stare at him. Instead, she moved through her closing soliloquy.

  “The gift shop is open for one hour after the museum actually closes, so please feel free to head in that direction. As it’s nearing dinnertime, may I suggest taking the island trolley over to the northern side of the island where restaurants and other nightlife spots are open and waiting to serve and entertain you. If you’re staying on the island for a few days, there’s a candlelight dinner boat ride at the port tomorrow evening. And, for younger guests, there will be face painting and a magic show on Main Street beginning tomorrow at noon. We thank you and appreciate your visit to Grand Serenity Island.”

  This was when the crowd usually departed. But there’d been nothing normal about this tour so far, so Val should have known better than to expect that.

  The woman with the Southern drawl came up first, asking for an autograph and picture from Roland. He sm
iled and obliged. And then repeated that task for the next seven women who did the same. Val watched as he easily slipped his arm around each woman’s shoulders, leaning in so as to make each picture look personal, intimate, even. The women were glowing, their smiles big and bright—even the ones that were with their husbands—which amused Val, but probably annoyed their men. Roland also talked to each one of them, asking where they were from, how long they were staying on the island and what they liked most about Grand Serenity. The most intriguing part of that was that Val was certain he actually listened to each woman’s reply.

  The great womanizer was being attentive and patient, and looking damn good in the process.

  And she was being silly.

  With a shake of her head she moved a little closer and announced that the picture Roland had just smiled for was the last one. Of course she received irritated stares, but she didn’t mind. Adults never liked being told what to do and when to do it. She knew that because she’d hated when her father had done the same. But this was different. This was work. It was her job to have this foyer clear within ten minutes of closing time. If they moved down toward the gift shop, that was fine, as it was a separate building and the exhibit halls could be locked off while the store stayed open.

  “Thank you, everyone, for visiting Grand Serenity,” Roland said, backing up her statement that the museum was closing.

  “We hope you enjoy your time here,” Val added.

  She said this to every group after every tour, but this time she knew they’d enjoyed the tour. If nothing else on this island pleased them, this would have been enough.