Prince Ever After Page 7

  Roland watched Kris closely, so he saw the moment his brother gave the slightest nod of his head.

  “I’ll be right back.” Roland turned to Valora. “Stay right here.”

  When she nodded her agreement, Roland once again felt a comfort he’d never experienced before. He didn’t have time to examine it, so he simply released her hand and walked over to where Kris and Gary were now standing. Landry had put an arm around Sam and the two women took the seats farthest from where Malayka sat.

  “When did she return?” Kris asked Gary about Malayka.

  “Two hours before they sat down to have dinner at six forty-five,” Gary answered immediately. “The chef said the prince asked for dinner to be held until Malayka was ready.”

  Kris nodded. “Have you already secured the manifest from the jet?”

  “Yes,” Gary answered. “She left here last Monday and they flew nonstop to Chicago, Illinois.”

  “Malayka went back to the States?” Roland asked. “Why? Did she have some appearance there?”

  “None that we know of,” Kris replied. “I received a call from Siegmond late last Sunday night. He said Malayka had called him requesting the jet be ready for her first thing the next morning. Until the wedding takes place, he needs approval from one of us to move that jet. There was nothing on the schedule, but by the time I could get to Dad in his room the next morning, she was already packed and heading out.”

  Roland frowned. “Dad approved the trip?”

  “He did,” Kris answered. “And he did not give me any details as to why she had to make this impromptu trip.”

  “What the hell is going on with him? Why is he so blindly trusting her?” Roland asked, his frustration with his father’s impending nuptials getting to him at the moment.

  “He’s in love,” Gary stated simply. “I know what you’re going to say. I thought it, at first, myself. But I’ve watched the two of them from a different angle. While I’ve grown to respect and care for Prince Rafe, I have a more objective eye than the rest of you. That’s part of the reason you brought me here, Kris.”

  Kris nodded, even though Roland was sure his brother was feeling the same frustration with their father and Malayka that he was.

  “He loves her and I believe she loves him,” Gary continued.

  “She’s a liar,” Roland insisted.

  Gary shrugged. “That’s undeniable. We’re still combing through her past. What I can say is that there’s no college degree and no record of her cheerleading for any professional squad. What she told you and your father was a carefully constructed facade.”

  “Complete with a fake background that required a United States security clearance to break through,” Kris added with a frown.

  Gary nodded. “Yes. I had to use connections I had at the National Security Agency to get any real information on her.”

  “Then she is involved in the incidents that have taken place,” Roland stated, the words settling with distaste in his mouth.

  “I don’t have undeniable proof of that just yet, and what I found for the years she told you she was in school and cheerleading was nil. She did live in Paris for a couple of years, and then she returned to the States. To Chicago, to be exact.”

  “So, there’s someone there that knows her. Family, maybe,” Kris added.

  “I believe so. As soon as I make sure Sam is alright, I’m going to make a few calls. I’ll find out everywhere she went during her visit in Chicago and everyone she saw,” Gary told them.

  “Why don’t we just have somebody follow her and report back to us daily?” Roland asked. “You know, like one of her guards.”

  If Kris picked up on his sarcasm, he expertly ignored it.

  “Because we’re not ready for any of our staff to know we suspect her yet. Besides that, we have no idea who she or Amari already had working for them,” Kris answered.

  “He’s right. It’s better that all our surveillance of her comes from outside contractors. People that neither she nor Amari would know that we’ve reached out to,” Gary added.

  Kris nodded slowly. “In the meantime, we continue as if nothing has changed,” he stated. “Not with her and not with the royal family. I don’t want any word of Dad’s condition in the press.”

  The last was directed to Roland. It took him only a moment to realize why his brother was saying that to him.

  “She’s not the press and you know it,” he stated, being careful to keep his voice lowered.

  “I know she’s not the press, Roland. What I’m wondering is why she’s here in the first place,” Kris said.

  If she were his wife, there would be no question. If she were his girlfriend, there would be questions and possibly disbelief. There would be a little scandal because of her father’s rumors. She’d hinted at that just a while ago when they were sitting on the beach. But Valora was none of those things. Roland could say that for sure. What he couldn’t say was what she really meant to him. Why had he agreed to let her drive him here? Why had he insisted that she stay?

  “She’s with me,” he told his brother and brother-in-law. “You know her and her family. They’ve lived here all their lives.”

  “Her father’s a raving lunatic,” Kris countered.

  Roland couldn’t argue that fact. “She’s not her father, any more than I am mine. The moment I know that Dad is on the mend, I’ll take her home. Until then, we’ll be sitting over there and you needn’t worry about anything that happens in this room being repeated by her.”

  He moved away before Kris or Gary could say anything more. He didn’t want to hear their comments and he didn’t want to answer the questioning looks they undoubtedly now had. He just wanted to sit down before his legs completely gave out on him. Before the weight of Dr. Beaumont’s words about his father needing some type of heart procedure to remain alive could take full effect.

  * * *

  It was after midnight when Roland and Valora walked out of the hospital and climbed into his car.

  He was behind the wheel this time and she fastened herself into the passenger seat. They rode in silence on the way to her house. She was certain he was thinking about his father. The prince was going to recover, the doctor had said so once the angioplasty was completed.

  Valora had breathed a sigh of relief while she sat in the waiting room beside Roland. After the doctor’s words he’d leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees and dropped his head. She’d wanted to hug him in that moment, to share the relief with him in some way. From the time they’d walked into that waiting room, Roland had been tense and angry. The fear she’d seen in his eyes when he’d first received the phone call about his father had been buried. She suspected that’s what he’d always done, hidden the feelings he wanted no one to see. It seemed all too similar to how she dealt with her own life. That was the reason she’d stayed when he asked her to. Or, at least, that was what Valora had told herself.

  Nobody had wanted her in that waiting room tonight, and if she were completely honest with herself, she didn’t blame them. Her father had been a thorn in Prince Kristian’s side since he had been born. The day that Kristian had come to her house to speak with her, five months ago, she’d actually thought he was going to ask her to leave the island.

  The white car had pulled slowly into the dirt driveway in front of the small house she rented in Old Serenity. The luxury vehicle looked instantly out of place beside the overgrown hedge by the passenger side of the car and the dismal garden that greeted the prince when he stepped out. As for her little house, well, it had been freshly painted at the beginning of the year, so its white exterior with blue windowsills sparkled. She’d opened the bold blue door with its tropical-themed wreath slowly, before he could even knock.

  “May I come in?” he’d asked.

  Valora remembered trembling a
s his deep voice seemed to boom around the quiet area. She’d stood as straight as she possibly could before dropping into a curtsy and bowing her head slightly. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Stepping to the side, she let him into her house and closed the door behind him. He stood in the center of her living room. His broad-shouldered stance seemed much larger than the small space of the room.

  “I wanted to inform you that a statement will be coming from the palace this week. It will officially deny any wedding agreement between the two of us.”

  He’d spoken very succinctly and slowly, as if he wanted to make sure not only that she understood, but that he was also prepared for any reaction she might have. But she’d had no reaction, except for the shock she was still grappling with at seeing the crown prince in her house to begin with. As for his words, well, she’d always known there would be no marriage between herself and Kristian DeSaunters. Not only because the agreement her father had talked about forever was a lie, but because there had never—even in the nights when a starry-eyed girl had wished upon the stars—been a moment when she’d felt anything remotely romantic toward the man.

  He was handsome, there was no doubt about that. Powerful by birthright and compassionate, she figured, by choice. But he was not the man she dreamed of. Even though she had never seen that man’s face, she knew instinctively he was not Kristian. Even then, as he’d stood just a few feet away from her, Val had known that he was not meant for her and she was not meant for him.

  “You didn’t have to come all the way down here to tell me that, Your Highness. I’ve known all my life that the marriage agreement was a lie. I only hate that I was unsuccessful in getting my father to admit that fact,” she’d said in a tone much more relaxed than she’d imagined she could pull off.

  “That is a pity. However, I feel it is time to finally put it to rest,” he’d stated.

  Because he’d finally fallen in love. She’d seen pictures of the prince in the local paper with an American woman. The photos were from the day they’d been at the museum for the last exhibit opening. Val had seen them in person that day, too. She’d noted that, while the woman had stayed a reasonable distance from the prince, and there had been no stolen glances or touching of any kind between the two of them, love was in the air. The connection they shared was apparent. Now, it was confirmed.

  “I agree,” she said quietly.

  “I wish you well in your life and apologize ahead of time for any embarrassment or backlash you may experience as a result of the announcement.”

  “I apologize to you, Your Highness, for all that my father has done and said about the royal family. I wish it had never happened,” she admitted.

  “As do I,” he told her before leaving.

  The next time Val had seen Prince Kristian was at the Ambassador’s Ball, where he had been interrupting Roland’s dance with the now-princess Landry.

  That was the first time she’d danced with Roland.

  “It’s late,” Roland said, pulling her from her recollections. “I’ll walk you inside.”

  Val hadn’t realized that they’d pulled up in front of her house and that the car was now parked. Roland held the keys in his hand as he stared out the front windshield.

  Val took a deep breath and released it slowly. “It’s not much,” she said. “But it’s private and it’s mine for every thirty days that I make the rent payment.”

  She didn’t know why she was saying all this, why she felt the need to explain where she lived and why. It was clear to both of them that this was no palace.

  “Give me your keys,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. “I’ll let you inside.”

  Years of independence had the words, “No thanks, I can let myself in,” pushing to be said. But now was not the time for taking that stance.

  Roland was hurting, that was plain to see. If opening the door and letting her into her house would make him feel better, or at least give him some solace, she would let him have it. Reaching into her purse she pulled out her keys and handed them to him. Roland accepted the keys and got out of the car. By the time he made it around to her door, Val had already opened it. He held out a hand for her and she accepted before climbing out. Roland closed the car door and walked with her hand in his to the front of her house. He used the key to unlock the door and stepped inside before her.

  “There’s a light switch on the wall to your right,” she told him.

  In seconds light illuminated the living room and Val stepped inside behind him. He set her keys on the small table near the door.

  “This wasn’t how I anticipated this evening ending,” he told her as he moved closer to the door again.

  “It was an unfortunate turn of events,” she said. “But he’s going to recover, Roland. He’s going to be just fine.”

  It was only the second time she’d said his name, and Val had to admit it still felt a little odd. The way he looked at her when she’d said it, however, was something different. There was sadness in his dark brown eyes and the barest slump of his shoulders, even though he stood tall with his legs slightly parted, his hands clasped in front of him.

  “He’s the rock of this family,” Roland stated. “He will recover.”

  Val nodded. He needed to say those words aloud, to remind himself.

  “It’s late. I’ll let you go,” he continued.

  He had turned, his hand on the doorknob, when Val said, “Stay.”

  Roland stilled. Then, after a second or so, he turned his head to look at her. “What did you say?”

  Val didn’t know why she’d said it, all she knew was that it needed to be said.

  “You shouldn’t be alone tonight. Stay here with me.”

  He looked as if he might say no, as if there were a million and one reasons why he should go. She knew them all and had no doubt she would replay them for herself first thing tomorrow morning. But for now, for this moment in time, she chose to ignore them.

  She closed the distance between them and reached out to touch his hand on the doorknob. Pulling it away slowly, she looked up into his eyes and said again, “Stay.”

  Chapter 7

  “Roland.” She whispered his name so softy she barely heard it herself.

  He was in her bed, lying on his side, his chest bare, shoes off. His scent permeated the air, the rich, deep, musky aroma of his cologne. It would still be on her sheets in the morning. The indentation of where his head lay on the pillow would also remain once he was gone. Val knew she would cherish it all.

  Nobody had been in this bed with her. Ever. The two attempts she’d made at a relationship had been with men who did not live on Grand Serenity. Both of them had resided on the neighboring island and she’d met them during the Anniversary—the weeklong celebration that commemorated the day each of the islands had gained its independence from the Netherlands. She’d visited them, but when they came to Grand Serenity it had been Val’s decision to book a hotel room instead of bringing them here.

  It had been easier to check in to a hotel under another name than to answer all the questions and stares that would undoubtedly come the moment one of the busybodies in her neighborhood saw one of those men. Funny how she hadn’t given that scenario a moment’s thought when she allowed Roland to bring her home. If his car hadn’t been spotted by now, it certainly would be by morning. How was she going to deal with that? More importantly, how would he?

  He stirred in his sleep, a little shudder and then a murmuring sound. She wondered if he were dreaming. Perhaps having a nightmare about his father. Her heart ached for him, and before she could stop herself she was scooting over in the bed, wrapping an arm around him. For the first few seconds she remained perfectly still, very aware that his skin was warm to the touch and his abs were hard as steel. Val rested her forehead on his back and matched her breathi
ng to his.

  What was she doing?

  She had to be out of her mind. This was Prince Roland DeSaunters. He was not supposed to be in her bed and she was certainly not supposed to be touching him.

  With that thought, she slowly began to pull her arm away, knowing it was necessary to retain some semblance of sanity. Roland, apparently did not feel the same way.

  His strong fingers clasped her wrist in a gentle grasp and he slowly moved her arm back to where it had been, wrapped securely around his waist. He lowered his arm over hers and settled back into sleep. Val didn’t know if she should say or do something, or just...go with it.

  The latter won the battle, and before long she was drifting into slumber. She was all set to dream about her secret affair with the faceless knight in shining armor. It never occurred to her that the dream might not come tonight. Because she was already living it.

  * * *

  Today was a day for firsts.

  Roland awakened in Valora’s bed, alone.

  It was a nice bed, he thought, even if it was a bit on the small side for him. He was used to king-size. The one in his cliff-house bedroom was a four-post California-king haven. He loved that bed and swore he could never get a real good night’s sleep in any other one, even at the palace.

  However, last night Roland had slept like a baby. He wasn’t exaggerating, either. Even as he sat on the edge of the bed and wondered if Valora was in the kitchen or somewhere else around the house, he had to admit that he’d slept deeply and comfortably the whole night through. It was the oddest thing. The sheets weren’t satin and quite possibly no more than three hundred count. He’d already noted the size. And there were too many pillows. Still, he’d slept well past his normal nine o’clock. That meant he’d had to rush.

  Realizing that Valora was, indeed, gone, and cursing himself for sleeping so soundly, he pulled on his shirt and shoes. So she was gone. It was a weekday, she had to work, that was understandable. What was inexcusable was that he’d picked her up yesterday afternoon for their dinner date. He’d told her that he would take her back to her car when the date was over. The date had ended at her home, without her car. Roland had no idea how she’d gotten to work, but he felt like a total ass for not being the one to provide her transportation.