Prince's Mistress

Mt. Roche, Principality of Verdon, VerdoniaPrince Lander Montgomery gripped the phone and spoke in a low, forceful voice. "You owe me, Arnaud. You've been in my debt for years. It's time for you to pay up, and I have the perfect way you can do it." "I don't owe you a damn thing," Joc snapped. Even from half a world away his voice was as clear as though he stood in the same room. "You and your cronies made my life hell at Harvard. You're lucky I haven't tried to even the score. But now that you've taken the time and trouble to remind me of those good ol' days, I may reconsider." Lander glared in disbelief. "Payback? After all this time?" "Why not? When you have as much money as I do, payback can be a real bitch. A fact you'll soon discover firsthand, Your Highness." "You have a convenient memory. I'd almost think you'd forgotten about graduation night." Lander paused. "Not to mention the promise you made." Joc snarled a curse. "I was out of my mind when I made that promise." "No doubt. But still, you made it. Or doesn't the infamous Joc Arnaud honor his promises? Given your background, I thought honor was everything." There was a moment of dead silence and Lander wondered if he'd pushed too hard. Then, "What do you want, Montgomery?" Lander fought to disguise his relief. Years of practice maintaining an impassive facade came to his rescue and was reflected in the calmness of his voice. "I want to discuss a business proposition. I'm throwing a charity ball this Saturday. I understand you'll be in the vicinity." "If you consider Paris in the vicinity." "It's a hell of a lot closer than Dallas. Where should I send the invitation?" "Corporate headquarters. And make it two. There's someone I'd like to invite to your little shindig." "I'll courier them to you today." "You never did say, " A hint of curiosity climbed into Joc's voice. "What do you want from me?" Lander smiled in satisfaction. When it came to Arnaud, curiosity was a good thing. A very good thing. "Not much. I just want you to save Verdonia."She was late. Unforgivably late. Juliana Rose mentally willed the cab to hurry, to cut through the heavy traffic overflowing the streets of Verdonia's capital city of Mt. Roche and reach her des-tination while she could still enjoy what remained of the evening's festivities. Even if she made it to the palace within the next five minutes--highly unlikely--she didn't doubt for a single moment that she'd be the last guest to arrive. Peering through the window, she struggled to see how much farther they had to go. In the distance the palace of Mt. Roche topped a nearby hill. It gleamed silvery gold beneath an early June moon, its graceful turrets and glittering stonework reinforcing its fairy-tale appearance. A hunger built deep inside, a hunger to believe in fairy tales and happily-ever-after endings, even though she'd learned long ago that such things were impossible--at least for her. This was her very first ball, a reward for all her char-itable work for Arnaud's Angels. The fact that the fates were busily conspiring to prevent her from enjoying the fruits of her labor simply underscored her suspicion that some things were never meant to be. Besides, wasn't it considered a major no-no to arrive after the royal family? Would they even let her in? Or would she be turned from the door before she had the chance to peek inside? Well, she'd find out whether they'd let her in soon enough. And if they didn't, She shrugged philosophically. She had a briefcase full of work back at her apartment and a dozen potential candidates who would benefit from Angels' benevolence. As the cab turned onto the winding approach to the palace, Juliana struggled not to fuss with her hair or tug at the scrap of beaded silk that bared more of her breasts than she found comfortable. Instead she folded her hands in her lap and cleLeclaire, Day is the author of 'Prince's Mistress ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373767861 and ISBN 0373767862.