And broken it big time.
And the Princess was worried Theo would tell the Prince that he’d deflowered his sister? Not a chance.
The plane came to a halt. The door was opened, the steps lowered just as a cavalcade of dark-windowed SUVs drove alongside, a red carpet rolled out for them to disembark, before whisking them away to the palace, a fairy-tale castle atop the clifftop complete with towers topped with slated turrets and bearing the flags of the principality.
The Princess was shown to her wing of the palace while Theo was shown into a suite of rooms, in which he saw a king-sized bed laid out with a formal outfit he was apparently expected to wear tonight, along with an entire wardrobe from swimmers and gym wear to casual wear, everything he might need for his stay.
It seemed his every need had been anticipated.
It made a kind of sense, he thought, because none of the luggage he had brought contained anything formal enough for a banquet. It was a kind and thoughtful gesture.
He checked the labels. The sizes were spot on. Somebody had clearly done their homework.
He took advantage of the pool with a long swim. With lap after lap he felt the tension easing from his muscles, his body releasing the tension that had been accumulating these last few days. It was relief to be here and have the Princess safely returned to her country. It would be more of a relief when he had departed, closed this case and moved on. This dinner was an inconvenience, a timing issue, nothing more.
He refused to think about what had happened between him and the Princess—a mistake—but for now, it was good to know she was back where she belonged and the sooner he could get away, the better. The sooner these unnerving feelings would disappear. It was proximity making him feel this way. He needed to be away. Divorced from the drama of a runaway royal and whatever angst she was feeling.
He was dressing for dinner when the report he’d been waiting for lobbed into his inbox—the deep dive into Prince Rafael’s gambling proclivities, if they indeed existed as the Princess claimed. Quickly he opened it, scanning the contents.
Interesting.
More than interesting.
Damning.
Because apparently the Prince was neither a fan of the horses nor one to frequent the casinos that graced Rubanestein’s shores, confirming what Theo already understood. But there was shade, his researcher had found. Something that Theo hadn’t known. Something that nobody had known. Details were sketchy, disguised under layers of cybersecurity, but there were indications the Prince may have had a penchant for bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies and had taken to crypto gambling in an effort to try to leverage his gains. A high-risk strategy where the chance of losses and accumulating debt was also high.
Gambling.
Theo thought about all the times the Princess had claimed that her brother had racked up gambling debts. Gambling with cryptocurrency on online unregulated casinos—there was a potential recipe for disaster.
And Theo’s spidey senses quivered on high alert.
Because, if the Princess hadn’t been lying about the gambling? What else might be true?
Theo was directed to his seat of honour, a seat next to a bejewelled throne where Prince Rafael would sit. On the other side of the empty seat, a wiry man sat down, grinning and bowing his head to Theo, introducing himself as Count Lorenzo di Stasio. Theo nodded and smiled in acknowledgement.
‘We are beholden to you for returning our Princess,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ Theo said. ‘But I was just doing my job.’
‘And you did it well.’
They were interrupted by the blare of trumpets as Prince Rafael stood at the door, in the uniform of Rubanestein, a gold sash over his chest, and a beautiful woman on his arm. The Prince’s consort, Theo guessed, though he’d missed that detail in the dossier. She was dressed in a strapless gown of pink lace, a long scarf of the same fabric wound around her neck, her blonde hair in an updo, curvy tendrils framing her face topped off with a diamond-encrusted tiara.
Everyone at the table stood as the couple came closer.
Wait?Blonde hair?
He looked closer. Her eyes were smoky with kohl, her lips were painted the same shade as her dress. But it was her. This was the Princess Isabella, in full royal regalia. He was so used to her dressed in beach wear, casual summery island wear that he almost hadn’t recognised her.
And Theo had to acknowledge, she was magnificent.
She hesitated as she regarded the room. Before she took a seat beside the man opposite who took her hand and kissed the back of it while the Prince moved to his place at the head of the table.
She looked up at Theo then, just a momentary glance—a glare—before she swallowed and then looked away.
And Theo’s spidey senses went into overdrive.
