Prince Ever After. A.C. Arthur
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the now-familiar woman with the accent asked.
A man chuckled. “Hell, no! Not if he knows what’s good for him. He’s gonna get way more play from the ladies as a single prince than if he ties himself down with one woman.”
“Huh! I doubt that,” the younger woman argued. “Ever heard of gold diggers and home wreckers?”
Murmurs came from the crowd. More opinions, Val supposed, that didn’t involve the museum or her job. Her head was beginning to hurt. After three earlier tours, this was the last one of the day and she really wanted it to be over with so she could go home, take a hot bath and settle in for the night. She did not want to stand there and fend off rumors or make assumptions about the royal family, or anyone else, for that matter.
“Ever heard of falling in love? Cherishing your wife? Respecting the covenant of marriage?” Yet another woman asked. “I swear, all young people think about these days are one-night stands and monetary compensation for time served in a relationship.”
“The woman that puts up with Roland DeSaunters’s gambling and philandering should damn well be compensated big-time! Did you see how much money he lost in a poker game just last month? And then the two women he was seen coming out of that hotel in Dubai with?” This woman shook her head in disgust. “He’s gonna be a slippery snake to tame.”
“Awww, come on. I wouldn’t say all that.”
Val’s head shot up at the sound of his voice. She had to come up on tiptoes to see over the heads of the people in her group. Seconds after he spoke, the crowd parted like the royal horns were blowing to signal a procession. And there he stood, amidst people who had paid seventy-five dollars per person to tour the island’s famed museums. Prince Roland DeSaunters was dressed in a black suit and a white collarless shirt. A colorful reflection bounced off the silver watch at his wrist, thanks to the sun’s vibrant rays drifting through the large arched windows.
When nobody spoke again, he walked down the aisle the people had created, coming to a stop beside Val. She had swallowed a number of times in an attempt to find her voice. As the tour guide, she should say something. That was a given. But what exactly was she supposed to say? It wasn’t every day that the prince appeared and inserted himself into a tour.
“The present is always a juicier topic of discussion than the past,” the prince said to the crowd. “Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Harrington?”
“That’s it!” the first woman with all the questions about Malayka shouted. “I knew I recognized your face from somewhere. You’re Valora Harrington. You were engaged to Prince Kristian before he dumped you for an American.”
And now her mortification was complete.
Not only had seeing Roland again brought back the infuriating memories of last night and her father’s foolish bet, now this woman was touching on yet another embarrassing subject for her. Would it ever end?
“The prince and I were never engaged,” Val stated evenly. “As the time for arranged marriages has long since come and gone here, the union that was envisioned by my father was highly overrated.”
“In other words,” Roland added with his standard drop-the-panties smile, “my brother was never committed to any relationship with this woman and therefore could not have been so foolish as to dump her for someone else.”
Val felt the heat rising immediately. It crept up her neck and filled her face until she almost gasped with the thought that she was actually blushing.
“Now,” Roland continued with a snap of his fingers. “Let’s move on to more exciting stories. Like the time I found one of these doubloons in an old trunk at the palace. It was quite a find, and my siblings were sick with jealousy because I found it instead of them.”
He talked so easily as he walked casually through the marble-floored rooms. The tourists, thankfully, jumped right into his tale of treasure discoveries in the royal palace and the possibility of more being left about the island. Val wondered if he knew he had a natural gift for storytelling. That was what he was doing, she thought about twenty minutes later when they were finishing the tour and Roland was coming to a grand finish complete with a tattered map that was said to have belonged to the infamous pirate Blackbeard.
There had been no need for her to say a word since Roland had covered not only The Sunset building, but The Starlight building, as well. For the latter, he had woven a bit of romantic intrigue into his story, while highlighting some pieces from the antiquities collection and the island’s early history collections.
Now they were once again coming to stand beneath the domed ceiling in the front entryway. It was about half an hour before closing, so there were other customers milling about this area, as well. When she overheard a member of the group asking if the tour was over, Val remembered she was actually supposed to be working and cleared her throat.
“Let’s give Prince Roland a hand for the wonderful tour he’s hosted for us this afternoon,” she said and began clapping so that the group members would follow suit.
Roland looked at her and then back to the crowd, but Val did not continue to stare at him. Instead, she moved through her closing soliloquy.
“The gift shop is open for one hour after the museum actually closes, so please feel free to head in that direction. As it’s nearing dinnertime, may I suggest taking the island trolley over to the northern side of the island where restaurants and other nightlife spots are open and waiting to serve and entertain you. If you’re staying on the island for a few days, there’s a candlelight dinner boat ride at the port tomorrow evening. And, for younger guests, there will be face painting and a magic show on Main Street beginning tomorrow at noon. We thank you and appreciate your visit to Grand Serenity Island.”
This was when the crowd usually departed. But there’d been nothing normal about this tour so far, so Val should have known better than to expect that.
The woman with the Southern drawl came up first, asking for an autograph and picture from Roland. He smiled and obliged. And then repeated that task for the next seven women who did the same. Val watched as he easily slipped his arm around each woman’s shoulders, leaning in so as to make each picture look personal, intimate, even. The women were glowing, their smiles big and bright—even the ones that were with their husbands—which amused Val, but probably annoyed their men. Roland also talked to each one of them, asking where they were from, how long they were staying on the island and what they liked most about Grand Serenity. The most intriguing part of that was that Val was certain he actually listened to each woman’s reply.
The great womanizer was being attentive and patient, and looking damn good in the process.
And she was being silly.
With a shake of her head she moved a little closer and announced that the picture Roland had just smiled for was the last one. Of course she received irritated stares, but she didn’t mind. Adults never liked being told what to do and when to do it. She knew that because she’d hated when her father had done the same. But this was different. This was work. It was her job to have this foyer clear within ten minutes of closing time. If they moved down toward the gift shop, that was fine, as it was a separate building and the exhibit halls could be locked off while the store stayed open.
“Thank you, everyone, for visiting Grand Serenity,” Roland said, backing up her statement that the museum was closing.
“We hope you enjoy your time here,” Val added.
She said this to every group after every tour, but this time she knew they’d enjoyed the tour. If nothing else on this island pleased them, this would have been enough.
When the last person was through the archway, Val walked to the circular desk closest to the door. It was white marble, and black letters on the wall behind it read Tour Information. That’s where she worked. It was where the tours were booked and started. In a safe behind that desk were her purse and jacket. She bent down to work the combination lock and retrieve them.
“Let’s get some dinner,” he