Royal Seductions: Secrets: The Duke's Boardroom Affair. Michelle Celmer

was absolutely right. And this was not a conversation Charles cared to have any part of. The last thing he needed was the entire family meddling in his love life.

      “Wow,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “Would you look at the time. I should be going.”

      “What’s the matter, Charles?” Sophie asked. “Have you got a hot date?”

      In fact he did. Even though the “date” in question didn’t know it yet.

      Phillip just grinned. “If you hear anything else from Melissa or her attorney, you’ll let us know?”

      “Of course.” He said the obligatory goodbyes, then made a hasty retreat out into the hall. Before he could escape the residence, Ethan called after him.

      “Charles, hold up a minute.” He wore a concerned expression, which was enough to cause Charles concern himself. Ethan was one of the most easygoing people he knew.

      “Is there a problem?” he asked.

      Ethan paused for a moment, then sighed and shook his head. “I guess there’s really no tactful way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. The family is asking, as a personal favor, that you not have an affair with Victoria.”

      For an instant, Charles was too stunned to speak. Then all he could manage was “I beg your pardon?”

      “You heard me.”

      Yes, he had. But he must have been mistaken. He’d devoted his life to his family, true, but that didn’t give them the right to dictate who he could or couldn’t sleep with. “What are you suggesting, Ethan?”

      Ethan lowered his voice. “I don’t have to suggest anything. It’s common knowledge that the employees you sleep with don’t last. Normally that isn’t a problem because they’re your personal employees, and how you run your firm is your own business. But Victoria is an employee of the royal family, as are you, and as such, policy states there can be no personal relationship. If we can convince her to stay, her expertise will be a great asset to the Royal Inn. That isn’t likely to happen if you and she become…intimately involved.”

      “That’s a little hypocritical coming from you,” Charles said. “Seeing as how you knocked up a palace employee.”

      It was a cheap shot, but the arrow hit its mark.

      Ethan’s expression darkened. “Make no mistake Charles, this is something the entire family is asking. Not just me.”

      And what if Charles said no? What if he slept with her and she refused to stay? Would he be ousted as the family attorney? “This sounds a bit like a threat to me.”

      “It’s nothing more than a request.”

      Though only a cousin, Charles had always been an integral part of the royal family. For the first time in his life he felt like an outsider.

      And he didn’t like it.

      “Do whatever it takes to make her stay,” Ethan said, and there was a finality to his words that set Charles even deeper on edge.

      “I need to go fetch my assistant,” Charles told him, then he turned and left before he said something he might later regret.

      He found Victoria in the main business office with one of the secretaries. For the life of him he couldn’t remember her name. She was explaining the phone and security system to Victoria. As he approached they both looked up at him.

      “Finished already?” Victoria asked.

      Charles nodded. “Ready to go?”

      “Sure.” She thanked the secretary, whose name still escaped him, grabbed her purse, and followed Charles out. She practically had to jog to keep up with his brisk, longer stride. He led her out the back way this time, where she would come and go should the position ever call for her coming back to the palace.

      “Meeting not go well?” she asked from behind him, as they passed the kitchen.

      “What makes you think that?”

      “You’re awfully quiet. And you seem to be in a terrible rush to leave,” she said, sounding a touch winded.

      He made an effort to slow his pace. It wasn’t the meeting itself that was troubling him. That had gone rather well, all things considered. “It was fine,” he said.

      The car was waiting for them when they stepped out of the back entrance. They got in, and he almost directed the driver to take them back to the office, but then he remembered that he was treating Victoria to dinner.

      Instead he told him, “The Royal Inn.”

      “Why are we going to the Royal Inn?” she asked.

      “I’m taking you to Les Régal De Rois for dinner,” he said. He expected an argument or an immediate refusal. Instead she just looked amused, which rubbed his already frayed nerves.

      “Is that an invitation?” she asked.

      “No. Just a fact.”

      “Really?”

      He nodded. “Yep.”

      “What about my car?”

      “It’ll be fine in the parking garage overnight. I’ll arrange for my car to pick you up in the morning.”

      She mulled that over, looking skeptical. He steeled himself for the inevitable argument. In fact, he was looking forward to it. He needed a target to vent a little steam. Even though he was supposed to be convincing her to stay, not using her for target practice.

      Instead she said, “Okay.”

      “Okay?”

      “I’ll go to dinner with you, but only if I get to choose the restaurant.”

      He shrugged. “All right.”

      “And you have to let me pay.”

      Absolutely not. He never let women pay. It had been hammered into him from birth that it was a man’s duty—his responsibility—to pick up the check. As far as his mother was concerned, chivalry was alive and kicking.

      “Considering your current employment status, it might be wise to let me cover it,” he said.

      She folded her arms across her chest. “Let me worry about that.”

      Would it hurt to let her think she was paying? But when it came time to get the bill, he would take it. It’s not as if she would wrestle it out of his hand. At least, he didn’t think she would. She may have been independent, but he knew from experience that deep down, all women loved to be pampered. They liked when men held doors and paid the check. Expected it, even.

      “Fine,” he agreed.

      She leaned forward and instructed the driver to take them to an unfamiliar address in the bay area. For all he knew she could be taking him to a fast-food establishment.

      The driver looked to Charles for confirmation, and he nodded.

      What the heck. He was always up for an adventure.

       Six

      It wasn’t a fast food restaurant.

      It was a cozy, moderately priced bistro tucked between two upscale women’s clothing stores in the shopping district. The maître d’ greeted Victoria warmly and Charles with the proper fuss afforded royalty, then seated them at a table in a secluded corner. It was quiet and intimate and soaked in the flickering glow of warm candlelight. Their waiter appeared instantly to take their drink orders—a white wine for Victoria and a double scotch for him—then he listed the specials for the evening.

      “I recommend