Page 111 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
Outside, the Blackhawk was waiting for them. Bags were thrown into the cargo hold as they approached, the acrid smell of Phoenix’s cigarette mixing with aviation fuel. Achilles climbed into the aircraft’s leather interior. Phoenix settled close behind him when the opposite door burst open.
Charisse was shoved inside, looking furious and disheveled with wild blonde hair swinging around her oversized designer sweater and fitted leather pants, as if this were completely against her will. “Let go of me!” she shrieked, then turned to Achilles with exaggerated surprise. “Oh, they have you too! Achilles, I tried to contact my father about your situation, but these terrorists caught me before I could warn him. They’ve got my father too! I don’t know what they will do with him.”
It took every ounce of self-control not to roll his eyes at her theatrical performance. He gathered his best acting skills to avoid putting her immediately on the defensive. “That’s… unfortunate.”
He wasn’t that great an actor, it turned out.
She shot a venomous glare at Phoenix. “If you harm me, my father will terminate all cooperation with your drilling plans permanently.”
“Ah yes, can’t have anything interfering with daddy’s plans to turn my people into sweatshop laborers,” Achilles said acidically.
Well,thatdid it. Charisse went rigid, her blue eyes watering as she stared over at him. Achilles had completely blown his cover and just couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.
Charisse’s mouth started working again. “What are you implying?”
“Might as well drop the charade,” he said. “I know you’re neck-deep in plans to take over my country.”
She made a sound of disdain. “Take over your country? Really? Someone should actually be running it competently for that to be a possibility.” She shoved Phoenix away from her, dropping all pretenses. “And for your information, we’re creating jobs—more than you’ve ever done for these people.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is slaves.”
Phoenix laughed heartily. The aircraft filled with additional armed personnel as the pilot prepared for takeoff. Achilles wanted to punch him for his part in this, but there were others. There had to be. “Are you working with the Earl of Alexopoulos?”
She giggled. “The man is broke, embarrassingly broke, so broke that tailors have to pass him invoices at galas, so no, I don’t think so! My father has sufficient funds to invest in the Myrdons—your country will finally see some progress, and everybody wins. The Myrdons do the grunt work, and my father doesn’t have to get his hands dirty.”
“But you like getting your hands dirty, don’t you?”
She laughed. “I enjoy a hands’ on experience myself.” She poked him with a finger. “I’ve had so much fun with you, my dear.”
He inched back, never wanting to touch her again. “No offense, but I never suspected you at all. You were so vanilla.”
“Thanks.” She tossed her hair.
Not a compliment, but he wasn’t about to argue with her. Phoenix stubbed out his cigarette in the helicopter’s crystal ashtray like this was just another day in the office. “How delightfully domestic—you’re already bickering like an old married couple.”
Achilles tensed at the direction of this conversation. Married? To Charisse?
“It’s what Chris wants, and what he wants, he gets,” Phoenix announced, his calm demeanor not even questioning that Charisse’s father could casually flip over Achille’s life on a whim. “We’ll formalize the arrangement as soon as we dissolve your current marriage to Bris.”
Dissolve through annulment… or murder? Achilles licked his dry lips, frantically calculating his next move while preparing for the performance of a lifetime. “How is marrying Charisse any different from the complications Bris created?” She straightened with annoyance, and he shrugged at her. “You can’t expect me to forfeit my legal claim to Bris’s assets by abandoning our marriage.”
Dah! He was starting to sound like a dirty old man—he had to try harder!
“She has considerable shares in Tyndarian Offshore Holdings,” he added. “You expect me to let go of those?” The mineral rights on the Island of Aeaea had been absolutely worthless about two seconds ago, but if these bloodthirsty terrorists thought they were drilling again, they might go for it. “Why do you think I agreed to wed her in the first place?”
So laughable. In fact, he’d laughed in Chises Mnon’s face when he’d offered them as her dowry. He forced more ice into his voice. “Charisse brings nothing to this arrangement except her father’s capital, and we can secure that through alternative means.”
Cold fury blazed through the eyes of the woman he was trying to cut out of his life… again. “Ah! I love to hear a man in love talk… how touching.” She inched closer to him, her muddy Italian boots running up against his legs. “Here’s a thought—if you care so little for your spoiled princess, why don’t we remove her inheritance by ensuring she’s out of the picture for good?”
He tried to shut that down. “Don’t be naïve. If you eliminate her, those contracts revert to international arbitration courts.” That was something he knew practically nothing about, except for when Chises Mnon had talked doweries once upon a time, but he was scrambling for some leverage here. “They attached those strings to her for a reason. If she’s gone, I get nothing.”
Charisse pushed her elbows into his knees, her manicured fingers making his skin crawl as they trailed possessively along his arm. “I think someone doesn’t want his precious wifey harmed,” she purred. “There are other ways to transfer those mining rights, big boy—legal loopholes that bypass inheritance laws entirely.”
He fixed her with a withering stare despite her attempts to unnerve him. “I thought you wanted to make a profit on us… or do you just want to be queen? Is that it?”
“Both, my dear… let’s not forget, your baby sister still languishes in the loving arms of an assassin. We can do absolutely anything we want to Bris… and you’ll still work with us.”
She fell back against the seat when the helicopter lifted off with a thunderous roar. Its blades cut through the air and drowned out all conversation.
