The Princess's Proposal. Valerie Parv
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she could away from him.
The banquet table was large enough to land a small plane on, but with Hugh at her side she felt as if it was barely roomy enough for the two of them. “What brings you to Nuee, Hugh?” she made herself ask in a conversational tone, as the first course was served with the precision of a military operation.
“I’m sure your staff briefed you on why I’m here. But for the record, I plan to establish a ranch north of Nuee City and breed saddle horses. It’ll be the South Pacific counterpart of a similar facility I own back in the States.”
As the governor of the islands of Isle des Anges and Nuee, her brother, Prince Michel, had to give royal assent before a foreigner could make an investment on that scale in Carramer, she knew. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to convince Michel to change his mind. “How far advanced are your plans?” she asked.
“Far enough. The land is already mine through a Carramer-based holding company. All I need now is royal approval to set up the ranch.”
Approval her brother had withheld from his own sister, she reminded herself, feeling her anger rise. “I suppose you want me to put in a good word for you with Michel,” she said, her tone unconsciously harsh.
He took a sip of the excellent French wine she had refused in favor of mineral water. “I should think you’d be more worried about what I might say to the prince than what you should say to him,” he said.
She was uncomfortably sure that she knew exactly what he was suggesting but she decided to make him spell it out. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”
He glanced around, but the guests nearest to them were engrossed in conversation and enjoying the seafood course that had been placed before them. “You know exactly what I mean…Dee.”
So he did intend to take advantage of what he had learned about her activities. Her spirits plummeted. “Kindly don’t call me that here,” she said, keeping defeat out of her voice with an effort. She hadn’t known quite how much she valued her vacations from duty until they were under threat.
“I gather no one knows about your little foray but you and me.”
“My personal staff know that I like to…keep in touch,” she said awkwardly.
“Is that what you call risking your beautiful neck for a few thrills?”
She drew herself up regally. “You presume a lot on very little knowledge, Mr. Jordan.”
His hand slid over hers in a fleeting but oddly possessive gesture. “It’s a bad habit of mine, especially with a lady whose beautiful a—anatomy I’ve had the pleasure of saving.”
“Crudely put but accurate,” she snapped. “Why do I sense that a simple thank-you isn’t enough to persuade you to drop the subject?”
“Because it won’t be,” he said so mildly that it hardly sounded like a threat at all. More a promise, she thought. Men like Hugh Jordan didn’t threaten. “Why did you refuse me when I asked for a meeting?”
“I didn’t—”
“Oh, the princes’ office gave me the official excuses, but in my experience we can generally do the things we most want to do. Therefore, you wouldn’t see me because you didn’t want to.”
It was bad enough being cut off in midsentence. Of the many people in her life, perhaps only her brothers would have dared. “Royalty has its obligations,” she said, annoyed at being second-guessed so accurately.
“Then Nuee’s prosperity should be high on the list.”
“Of course it is. It’s the smallest of Carramer’s main islands with the least resources.”
“One of them being native horses with the potential to be the world’s greatest saddlebreds.”
“Agreed,” she said.
“So why put up a fight?”
“Because I refused a meeting?”
His eyes gleamed. “A confession, princess?”
Too late, she saw the trap. “A question…and you haven’t answered it.”
He spread his long fingers wide. “Your brother tells me you’re the greatest living expert on Nuee’s native horses. With your expertise and my setup, we could conquer the riding world.”
“Why not the other way around?” she said softly.
His breath hissed between those inviting full lips. “So that’s what this is all about. You wanted that land for yourself, didn’t you?”
“It’s perfect for raising saddlebreds.”
“So why didn’t you buy it?” He swept a gaze around the banquet hall. He knew the value of the silverware alone would feed a normal family for a year. “It can’t be lack of money.”
“Try lack of a Y chromosome.”
He looked startled, as if the idea would never occur to him. “Because you’re female? Carramer isn’t that feudal.”
“It depends on one’s family.”
“Your brothers?” When she nodded, he said, “They must have good reason for keeping you out of the ranching business. Maybe they’re trying to protect you.”
“Spoken like a typical male,” she said. “I can take care of myself.”
“The way you did this afternoon? What’s with you, anyway, princess? You could have been injured or killed sneaking out like that.”
She let her eyes flash regal fire at him and waited for him to quail. When he didn’t, she snapped, “I would have handled that drunken oaf. I did handle him, come to think of it.” She saw Hugh wince at the memory of her well-aimed kick. “And I never sneak.”
“So this isn’t the first time you’ve gone out alone and in disguise.” It wasn’t a question. It was certainty. He didn’t seem surprised when she didn’t deny it and went on in an angry voice, “Princess, it seems to me that you don’t know when you’re well-off.”
Confusion gripped her. She had feared he would use what he knew to gain some benefit, but instead he sounded angry on her account. This was getting much too personal. Luckily the next course was being brought in. “I’m glad we had this talk, Hugh, but I can’t monopolize you all evening.”
He knew a dismissal when he heard one. He might be a self-made man but his education, rough as it was, had included the rules of etiquette. Both of them owed some of their attention to the guests on either side of them. “There’s still my dance,” he reminded the princess before she could turn to the man on her left. He had the satisfaction of seeing her lovely eyes widen.
“Your dance?”
“As your appeal’s biggest benefactor, I get to dance with the princess at least once tonight.”
“I may retire early.”
“Even you wouldn’t buck the system that far.”
He was right, damn him. She still had a feeling he wanted something from her, something he hadn’t mentioned yet. She resolved to make it a short dance. “Very well, then, we’ll continue this later.”
He nodded graciously enough but muttered something that sounded like, “You bet we will.” With a resigned sigh, she turned her attention to the man seated on her left. He was a meteorologist, she remembered from Cindy’s briefing. She hoped discussing the weather would be easier on her blood pressure than talking with Hugh.
Even with her attention directed elsewhere she was aware of him, she noticed uncomfortably. As her companion launched into a long dissertation about the effects of the various currents on Carramer’s water temperatures, she nibbled around the edges of her food, mostly pushing it around her plate to give the appearance of eating.
When