Cinderella's Royal Seduction / Crowned At The Desert King's Command. Dani CollinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
was going behind Sopi’s back. He was convinced Maude would pursue the sale with someone else if he declined, so he decided to go through with it. He had Gerard call Maude first thing and tell her to expect the prince’s counteroffer later today.
Rhys then sent his bodyguard to fetch Sopi. He wanted to come clean about his purchase and include her in the negotiations. Maybe they could work out some other arrangement while they were at it. He knew it was next to impossible, though, and that put him on edge.
When his bodyguard returned with Cassiopeia’s neatly bagged delicates and the news that she had driven away in a company vehicle, he nearly snapped.
This was the only time they had!
He was in a brooding, foul mood when Gerard knocked and entered carrying his trusty tablet. “I relayed the stepdaughter’s details to the palace for the due-diligence investigation, sir. You’ll want to see this. The palace investigators dug fairly deeply into the Brodeur background—”
“And Maude is on the run from the law?” he surmised facetiously. “Shocking.”
“Um, no, sir. Maude and her daughters don’t seem to have a criminal record of any kind. But Cassiopeia’s mother is a Basile-Munier.”
Rhys snapped his head around. “But they died out.”
Nevertheless, his blood leaped as he took the tablet and scrolled through the report. It included an image of a birth certificate and a short article by a historian who had visited this spa some years ago. The man had been trying to prove the owner was the surviving child of a prince who had disappeared from public life after an assassination attempt. That prince and his wife had had a daughter late in life. She’d eloped against her father’s wishes.
A marriage certificate and a title search on this property all seemed to indicate Sopi’s mother was that same woman.
“Is this real?”
“A DNA test would confirm it, although I’m not sure where we’d get a sample. Miss Brodeur seems to be the only surviving member. But if you scroll to the photo at the bottom, it would seem, um, like mother like daughter. And granddaughter.”
Rhys stared at a scan of a dated color photograph of two women who both had Sopi’s cheekbones and chin, rich brown hair and gleaming dark eyes.
The room was absolutely still and silent, but he felt as though a gust of wind hit him. Went through him. Nearly knocked him on his ass.
This was too easy. Too perfect. This wasn’t how life worked. Not how it should do in any case, not for him.
At the same time, a roaring thrill went through him. He could have her. He would have her. His agile brain quickly found the rationale for it. A commoner would have been a fight, but a royal would be accepted without question. Even better, she was a lost princess whose story would pull the spotlight from Henrik. His brother dropping out of public life while he sought treatment would barely be noticed by anyone.
“Forget driving down the price of the spa. I want a swift sale, immediate possession and binding terms.”
The checkers game he’d been playing with Maude was flung into the air. This was now grand master chess with a side hand of high-stakes poker.
Within the hour, Gerard had the contract finalized. Maude agreed that the transfer of ownership would remain confidential until such time as Rhys saw fit to announce it. Rhys informed her he would retain all staff but no longer needed a marketing VP or brand ambassadress. The people holding those positions—Nanette and Fernanda—would have to vacate their suite by the end of the week.
“Your late husband purchased this property for his wife?” Rhys asked as he and Maude set their electronic signatures to the final deal. He was curious whether Maude knew of Sopi’s royal blood.
“I understood she had an inheritance of some kind enabling her to renovate it. We rarely spoke about our previous marriages, to be honest. I’m just delighted to finally have this albatross off my hands. I run it as a folly, but it’s more work than it’s worth.”
As Gerard double-checked and pronounced everything settled, Rhys said to Maude, “Would you and your family dine with me this evening?”
“Oh, Nanette and Fernanda would love that.”
No mention of Sopi, her considerable contribution to the business or how this sale would impact her.
Maude’s complete disregard for her stepdaughter incensed Rhys, making his delight in outsmarting her grow exponentially until a bellow of triumph was nearly bursting from his chest.
It was a warning sign that he felt far too strongly about this. About Sopi. If he felt anything, it ought to be the comfortable satisfaction that he had uncovered an opportunity that benefited his brother and was moving strategically to seize it before anyone else could.
Even when he had the spa sewn up, however, Rhys’s powerful sense of urgency didn’t ease. He tried to pace it off, aware that Sopi would be furious with him, but his deal with Maude was the least of the shocks she would receive tonight.
When Sopi returned and confronted Maude over the wasted day, her stepmother frowned and said, “Oh, you know how Fernanda gets distracted when she’s excited. She and Nanette have been invited to dine with the prince tonight. That must be why she mixed things up.”
It was a prevarication if not an outright lie. Sopi was dying to say, Oh, really? Because last night, when I was with the prince, he told me he wasn’t interested in either of them.
But she didn’t want to reveal she’d been with the prince. She hadn’t felt sordid when it happened, but after brooding on it all day, she was convinced she’d behaved like those women he’d spoken of so disparagingly. The ones who straddled him whether he wanted them to or not.
She went about her afternoon checking in with staff and pitching in as necessary. When a handsome young man approached her as she was covering the booking desk, she smiled in greeting, caught off guard when he used her full name, not the Sopi on her name tag.
“Cassiopeia Brodeur?”
“Yes.” This was more the type of man she ought to aim for, she thought absently. He was polite and well dressed, but his attitude didn’t scream wealth and privilege. He returned her smile, but with polite reserve. He didn’t move the needle on her body temperature one millimeter, which was delightfully unthreatening if a little disappointing.
“Please call me Sopi. How can I help you?”
“I’m the prince’s assistant, Gerard. This is for you.” The small envelope he offered was imprinted with the royal crest.
Her heart tripped, and she ducked the envelope below the edge of the desk to hide how her hands began to tremble.
“Thank you,” she said in a strangled voice, cheeks scorching. She wanted to glance around guiltily but held his stare and her smile even though it began to feel forced.
“He asked if I could also take your number?” He offered his telephone with a contact already started in her name.
She balked. Rhys had gotten her naked last night, then fobbed her off on his bodyguard when he was finished with her. She wasn’t up for a do-over, if that’s what this was about.
“Perhaps if you read his message,” Gerard suggested, correctly interpreting her mutinous expression.
She withdrew the card, which was a single sheet, not even folded. It was some kind of high-grade linen stock in ivory with raw edges, also embossed with his crest.
His fine-tipped pen had dug in deep and left small trails, as though he’d rushed to write his brief message, barely lifting the pen. Or had written it in anger.
Where the hell did you go today?