Название | Prince Ever After |
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Автор произведения | A.C. Arthur |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Kimani |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474068239 |
Rafferty DeSaunters walked the straight line. He made the right decisions, did the honorable thing, said the perfect words and fought the good battle. He was, in every sense of the word, born to be a prince. Roland, on the other hand, was not. Or, at least, that’s what the press said.
Roland set his cards facedown on the table, reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a wad of cash. He counted until he’d matched Hugo’s amount.
“I’m in,” he said somberly and placed the remaining bills back inside his jacket.
“Yeah, I’m just feelin’ lucky tonight. Real damn lucky,” Hugo said.
Hugo held his cards tight and was grinning as if he knew he held the winning hand. Roland almost smiled at that thought. Instead, he remained silent, watching as the others studied their cards and made their moves. There had been no reason to go over the rules for this game; they’d all played at this level before. The secret, all cash, no-holds-barred level. There would also be no tell signs, Roland thought as he looked across the table to Reece, who was still studying what he’d been dealt. They were all professionals, which meant each one of them was just as good at bluffing as he was at winning. At least, four of them were.
“Fold,” Henri said grimly and pushed his cards facedown toward the deck.
Kip and Reece added their bets to the pot, and Hugo smiled giddily. “Yes sir! Lucky indeed!”
Reece put down two cards, nudging them toward the dealer so he could take two new ones. Kip took one new card. Hugo took none. Neither did Roland.
“I’ll raise the bet,” Hugo said, “to three thousand five hundred.”
Roland was amused.
Reece folded. Kip did, too.
Roland saw the bet.
Hugo continued to smile.
Roland slowly set his cards down faceup in a neat row on the table.
Hugo almost fell out of his chair he was so excited. A huge grin spread across the man’s face as he fanned himself with his cards. “Best night ever!” he said before finally dropping his cards to the table.
Roland didn’t look down to see his opponent’s cards immediately. Instead, he kept his gaze trained on Hugo Harrington. He was a short man, well below Roland’s six-foot-one-inch stature. He had a very round face with a dusky-brown complexion. When he laughed, his chins, all three of them, shook in a funny, animated way. His bugged eyes watered and the thick, bristly mustache above his top lip twitched. Something wasn’t right.
“You’re an idiot, Harrington,” Kip stated. “Your hand’s a loser.”
Reece chuckled as he reached over and spread Hugo’s cards farther apart. “Yeah, man, you lost. And His Royal Highness over here only has three of a kind. He beat you with a royal bluff.”
Roland still did not look down at the cards. He continued to stare at Hugo, who continued to laugh.
“Oh, he won, alright. He won the best prize ever!” Hugo told Roland. “See this right here?”
Hugo had reached into the money pot, sifting through the bills he’d thrown down. “This here, this little slip of paper, is a promissory note.”
“What?” Kip asked. “You put up the money for the bet. Why add a promissory note in, too? Have you been drinking, old man?”
Hugo shook his head, one tear running down his face as he continued to chuckle. “It’s fake. All of it is fake! Got it from some sailor a few months ago. Should have known the bastard was crooked from the start. Who the hell would pay all that money for one of Val’s pictures? Just ridiculous!”
“You tryin’ to cheat us old man?” Reece asked. “We play an honorable game here.”
Now Hugo was standing and nodding. “I know. I know. The prince, especially, is honest and loyal. All of the DeSaunters are. Ain’t that correct?” he asked with another nod.
Roland was feeling uneasy now. Actually, he was quite irritated.
“I got your winnings, though,” Hugo told him. “I got the payment you deserve. Don’t you worry. Come on, follow me.”
Reece and Kip looked at Roland questioningly. Roland didn’t hesitate, but stood and followed the old man down a short hall.
“I wouldn’t cheat you, Your Highness. No, not at all. I’m an honorable man, too. Just like my daddy before me and his before him. We’ve been on Grand Serenity since the beginning and we do what’s right. We keep our word,” Hugo told him. “Unlike others.”
Hugo said the last word as he turned the knob on a door at the end of the hallway.
“Your prize, Prince Roland,” Hugo said, and motioned for Roland to enter.
The scream that greeted Roland before he could even take a step was ear shattering. The curses that followed were fluent and angry.
The half-dressed woman spouting the saucy words was...for lack of a better word...impressive.
* * *
Why had she let her father borrow her car? Why had she agreed to stay at his house tonight while he went out on yet another crazy chase for fortune and fame? Why, oh why, was this her life?
Valora “Val” Harrington had asked herself these questions over and over as she reached for her bag and began to change out of the uniform she wore while working as a tour guide at the Serenade Museum. She’d worked there for the last three years in lieu of pursuing her dream to become an artist. But that was only partially true. Val was an artist. Her paintings were far better than a good number of the ones hanging in the museum. The only things she was missing were an agent and high-paying clients clamoring over them.
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.