Page 2 of Cinderella's One-Night Baby

‘We need to search your car and regulations don’t allow us to do that until you’re behind the line.’ She indicated her two colleagues and the sniffer dog waiting patiently for the go ahead.

Varying forms of anger and outrage contorted the handsome face. ‘How long is this going to take?’

‘It will take as long as it takes.’

‘I need you to fast track it.’

‘I’m afraid your friend the Queen dislikes it when we cut corners. Now stand behind the line,sir.’

For a moment she thought it quite possible that his head would explode.

A year ago, Gabrielle would have found it intimidating having a man twice her size staring down at her with such arrogant loathing. She could practically read what he was thinking:No one told Andrés Morato what to do! Car searches were for the hoi polloi, not for someone as important as him!

‘It’s your own time you’re wasting,’ she helpfully reminded him.

Nostrils on the patrician nose flared. Chiselled jaw clenched hard enough to grind wheat. And then he saw sense, walking backwards three steps without removing his ‘I’m going to make you pay for this inconvenience’ gaze from her.

‘Thank you for your co-operation, sir.’

‘If you damage it in any way, officer, you will pay for the repairs.’

‘Don’t worry, sir, the money you put into my country’s economy means we can afford it.’

Andrés stared at the diminutive woman politely bossing him around and politely using his words as weapons back at him, and the fury that had been curdling his stomach all week grew. ‘What are you hoping to find?’

Her response was to squeeze her hands into latex gloves and pretend not to hear him. But she had heard, of that he was certain.

Andrés was not used to being ignored. He was not used to being bossed around. He was used to deferment. His family was the only exception to this, and it was only because of his sister that he’d dragged himself out of bed that morning instead of catching up on all the sleep he’d missed in recent weeks thanks to the legal letter that had rocked the foundations of his world. The last thing he wanted was to socialise with hundreds of people.

His good friend and business partner on a number of ventures, the king consort, would have understood if he’d cancelled. Sophia would have sulked until Christmas. This was a day she’d been hugely looking forward to, and so, Andrés had done his best to keep his bad mood to himself. He thought he’d been successful, right until his helicopter landed in Barcelona and he’d got behind the wheel of his brand-new toy.

Sophia had put her seatbelt on and faced him. ‘We don’t have to go to the party if you don’t want.’

He’d glared at her. ‘You could have said that before we left Seville.’

‘I was hoping you’d cheer up. I haven’t seen you in a month. The least you can do is pretend to be happy at spending time with me.’

He’d put the car into gear without another word and had ignored her every effort at conversation since. That the traffic had been heavy, stopping and starting at will and refusing to part like the Red Sea at his command had only added to the foulness of his mood. The hope that actually getting behind the wheel would lift his mood had been a false one. Should have taken the helicopter all the way into Monte Cleure. He’d be already in his apartment brooding that he’d have to leave it shortly and fake gregariousness for the evening, not having to deal with a jobsworth border guard.

In his best sarcastic voice, he addressed the border guard again. ‘You must be searching for something, so what is it? Drugs? Counterfeit handbags? A litter of puppies?’

‘If I find puppies, sir, then I will personally use this on you.’ She patted the bulge at her hip, the expression on her face making it impossible to tell if she was joking or not.

‘Is that a gun or a taser?’ Sophia asked, finally joining in.

‘A taser.’

‘Can I use it on him?’

‘If it was at my discretion then gladly, but I’m afraid it’s against regulations and more than my job’s worth, miss.’ She crouched down and ran her hands beneath the wheel arch. She was so short she didn’t have to crouch very far.

‘That’s a shame,’ Sophia mused.

The guard, orofficeras she preferred to be addressed, still examining the wheel arch, said over her shoulder to Sophia, ‘I believe if you search the dark web, you can purchase your own. If in doubt about how to use it, just aim and press.’

Sophia laughed. ‘I will certainly keep that in mind for the next time he embarrasses me by throwing his weight around.’

The officer’s face didn’t even flicker. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’

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