Melissa James – Too Ordinary for the Duke? (страница 2)

Mari looked at Mikhail and wondered why he still bothered. Even if Jazmine and Lia hadn’t told her—strictly on the QT, of course—about the way Mikhail treated any woman he didn’t consider his equal in station, and even if Charlie hadn’t also warned her that Mikhail refused to acknowledge any of his less important former lovers when they tried to pull the influence card, the simple truth was she didn’t feel anything for Mikhail, and that ended that.

“No,” she said, quiet but firm. “It’s not going to happen, Your Highness. Please try to find a more … agreeable woman.”

Mikhail’s face darkened. He’d taken her other rejections as a prelude, a challenge—but tonight this had to be her final answer. “You’re lying, Mari. I’ve seen the look in your eyes, heard the hesitation in your voice every time you’ve put me off.”

Mari stared at him in wonder. Only a man as self-assured as Mikhail could see her firm no just moments before as a “putting off”. What would it take to convince him?

After a struggle with his self-control, he went on with dark intimacy, “I can assure you that the King has no objections to my—”

Charlie didn’t object? That wasn’t what he’d told her …

The name made her turn her head. Charlie and Jazmine danced not far away, and she caught her cousin’s wife’s eye with a pleading glance.

Jazmine, who’d become the new Queen of Hellenia shortly after her marriage, whispered in her husband’s ear. Within seconds Charlie was saying, genially, “Mikhail, my friend, I know a wedding isn’t the best time for it, but your father called me this morning. He wishes us to speak on a matter of—” He glanced at Mari, and said apologetically, “Sorry, my beloved cousin, but it’s a matter of national security, and some delicacy.”

Filled with relief, Mari kissed Charlie’s cheek. “Of course. I’ll go speak with Jazmine.”

Even a prince had protocol to which he must bow. Commoner though he’d been all his life, Charlie was now a station above Mikhail; Hellenia had importance to his family in matters of state and trade in Europe. Mikhail forced a smile to his face. “Lead the way, Your Majesty,” he said formally, refusing to call him Charlie.

But perhaps Charlie hadn’t yet invited him to such friendly intimacy. For all his careless ways and Aussie upbringing, Charlie had walls and barriers of his own.

As Charlie led Mikhail out of the state banqueting room, Mari knew her freedom wouldn’t last long. She had five to ten minutes to escape before Mikhail or her family stopped her. She tossed Jazmine a grateful glance; the Queen winked at her, and tilted her head towards the royal exit. Mari’s eyes widened as Jazmine beckoned with a hand.

As she reached her, the Queen slipped her arm through Mari’s and led her to the royal exit. Once there she whispered, “Out through there, turn right and right again, and you’ll find a royal limousine waiting for you. Your things are packed and ready.” Jazmine pushed an envelope stamped with the royal insignia into Mari’s hand. “This note tells the driver—he’s waiting outside for you—to take you to the pier. Charlie’s arranged our smaller yacht for you to sail on for a few days—until Mikhail is safely under the parental thumb again.”

“What?” she gasped, too stunned to be polite.

“We might be new at the job, but we keep an eye on things,” Jazmine said softly, “and this situation has become rather delicate. I’ve known Mikhail too many years. There’s no way he’ll give up until you give him what he wants—or worse, he ends up creating a rupture between Hellenia and Chalnikan. It’s been difficult to keep him under control every time he’s come here before, but with Lia and me, our positions prevented him from going too far. Even Grandfather refused to think of him as a potential husband for either of us, prince of the blood though he is. I was hoping you could convince him it was useless, but obviously that isn’t going to happen.”

Mari found herself blushing again, but she was glad Jazmine hadn’t referred to her parents’ humiliating approval and interference.

Jazmine pressed her hand. “We hoped we could help you go quietly after the reception, to save everyone embarrassment, but it seems he’ll make a scene if he doesn’t have his way. He’s not used to losing.”

Mari had to hold back the tears—and the urge to hug a queen. “Thank you so much, Jazmine … you and Charlie both.”

Jazmine smiled. “Thank Lia too, when you can. Mikhail offered her an open marriage after she gave him a few sons. He said she could play around with Toby all she wanted after he had his heirs, and he’d have his women.”

Mari smiled and nodded. “Hug her for me, and say I’ll call her from home when she and Toby are back.”

Jazmine nodded. “Now, go—before he sees where you went. We’ve told the servants to tell Mikhail nothing of your whereabouts, and the palace gates are to close after you, but he can still order them to open if he sees you. And don’t worry about your family,” she added as Mari hesitated. “Charlie has it all covered—and he can be quite charming when he wants to.”

Without another word, Mari bolted through the doors the liveried servant had opened for her. She slipped off the high, black, strappy heels that probably cost more than a month’s wages at home, and kept running. She turned right at the end of the hall, and right again, smiling at the servants in on the secret and whispering her thanks. From experience she knew that she got a lot further with people with a smile than an order. Great-Uncle Kyri always told her she could catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

She burst out into the cool night air with a sigh of relief—the car was there, just where Jazmine had said it would be, and there was a man leaning against the hood with a glass in his hand. Mari ran to the car and jerked the door open before he could move to open it for her. “Take me to the royal pier, please—as fast as you can.”

After a moment, the man said, in a tone of amusement, “Of course, my lady.” He hopped into the driver’s side. “The keys are in the ignition. Everything’s in place.”

“The King and Queen ordered the car to be ready for me,” Mari replied, trying hard to be pleasant while she was literally squirming. “The palace gates will open when we reach them.” She flicked a glance at the doors she’d left. Were they about to open? “I’d appreciate it if you’d lock the doors,” she said, mindful not to be imperious or cold. “Please,” she added again, turning to the rearview mirror to smile at the man. “Please, I really need to leave now.”

After a bare second of hesitation the man started the engine, gunned it, and let it go. Then they were at the gates, which opened smoothly for them. Mari sat twitching in the back seat, tossing constant glances over her shoulder—

Nothing yet, thank heaven, but he could come at any second. Charlie’s gentle, hands-off approach with Mikhail told her how delicate this situation was. It looked as if things might get ugly if she refused him again. Who’d ever have thought ordinary Mari Mitsialos could become entangled in international relations? But this was a kind of importance she’d give anything to not know! “Faster, oh, please go faster,” she pleaded, worst-case scenarios running riot through her head.

A smothered sound like a laugh met her desperate plea, but the limo moved through the gates. As Jazmine had stated they would, they swung closed behind the limo.

Flashes popped as the paparazzi assumed it was the bride and groom. She cringed away from the lights, covering her face; then they were through the thronged crowds. The boom gates and road spikes placed at the end of the private road, for royal safety in case of war, did the job on their pursuit, stopping the cars and bursting the tyres of the motorbikes. There’d be an official apology later, and talk of accidents, no doubt—and in the meantime the royal limo headed at breakneck speed for the royal pier.

CHAPTER TWO

AS HE drove for the royal pier, the note from the King and Queen of Hellenia lying open by his side, Lysander Marsalis wondered when would be the best time to tell her that he wasn’t really a chauffeur, but a duke, with distant ties to the royal family …

The eleventh Duke of Persolis since his brother’s retirement to a monastery a year ago, and a royal diplomat for the past decade, Sander was the current minder of the spoiled Royal Highness from whom the King’s cousin was currently bolting. He’d been sanctioned by both the King and Queen to discreetly take the girl out of a situation fraught with a hundred potential landmines in the way of international diplomacy.

At the very least he was going to lose his position in Chalnikan for acting against Mikhail’s interests—but having been given the orders by both Mikhail’s father and Charlie, what else could he do?

“Can’t we go any faster … please?”

A grin tugged at reluctant lips. The please, like all the others, had been so obviously tacked on as an afterthought. “Not without being arrested, miss.”

“Oh.” She slumped in her seat. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”