Page 6 of Some Like It Scandalous
“When, Armand?” Richard repeated the question.
“After I found out Alyx hired her to be in charge of it.” He wasn’t proud of the admission. He’d spent an hour talking Alyx into placing her scholarship fund under the oversight of the Dagmar Foundation and then promised the newlywed he would handle all the details. The further he put Alyx out of Anna’s reach, the more in control he could exert.
“And the goal of this exercise?”
“To provide educational opportunities to underprivileged youth.” He drained the brandy and grabbed his pool cue, avoiding Richard’s knowing gaze and the truth. He could dance around both for some time. He lined up the shot and sank two balls. He completed two more shots before glancing up. “I want her back.”
“Okay.” He nodded slowly. “Then we need a plan.”
“I’ve got her attention—well, I commandeered her attention.”If she shows up—if she doesn’t just refuse to work with me altogether…
The attorney pulled out his phone. “So that’s step one, what’s the next step?”
Armand stared at the shot he lined up and blinked slowly.
“You have a next step—right?” Richard sighed.
No, he’d barely managed to push through that meeting with her today. Bringing her back tomorrow bought him some time.
“This isn’t you, Armand. You don’t twist in the wind and act all indecisive. What do you want to do next?”
He wanted to pin her against the wall and kiss her senseless. He wanted to lap up all that radiant passion she so easily shared with him. He wanted to find out what movies she liked and what book she curled up in bed with at night. He wanted…
Slamming the pool cue down on the table, he ignored Richard’s wince. “I want to know everything about her life. Where is she living? Is she living with someone?” The thought made him sick, but he pressed on. “What does she spend her free time on?”
Richard nodded, his thumbs moving swiftly as he typed on his phone. “And while we dig up all this information?”
He cleared his schedule. Anna was his only talking point. “She hates the title.”
“That’s resentment, not hate.” Richard corrected. “But it’s an advantage. Use it.”
“To do what? Chase her away again? Let her box me up and put me squarely in the category she believes I belong?” He scowled. For someone so tempestuous and grounded in reality, she maintained a very black-and-white view of the world.
Thirteen years before, a busty little brunette burst into his introduction to business ethics class, interrupted the professor’s dry as hell lecture, and set the whole classroom laughing. With few seats to be had in the packed hall, he’d offered her his and she’d made him sit back down, while she squeezed into the narrow space next to him.
Their thighs touched for the entire class.
He never did hear what the professor droned on about with regard to compliance laws. He’d introduced himself, but she barely shook his hand before racing off. He didn’t even know what color her eyes were. A bribe at the register’s office earned him her schedule, and he’d waited for her outside her next class. The workload surprised him, but a week of putting himself in her path worked.
She’d said yes when he asked her out.
“Where does she jog in the morning? What coffee shop does she frequent? Where does she shop?” He drummed his fingers. “Her address is in the file, get that for me…”
“There’s a law against stalking.”
“Don’t be my attorney, Richard. Be my friend—help me.”
“Call her. Make up some excuse and get her on the phone.” Richard glanced at his watch. “It’s late, but it can’t hurt if you’re the last thing she thinks about before she goes to sleep.”
“Unless she hates me.”
“Oh, she’s probably angry, and like I said earlier, she resents the title. And the lie.” The droll response didn’t make him feel better. Richard held up his hands. “Look, you made a mistake and you paid for it—but at the end of the day,shewas the one who walked.”
“She walked away because I’m a prince.” The bitter churn of that fact burned.
“You can’t change the fact that you’re a prince—or I guess you can. But it’s not in you to drop the titles altogether and walk away from your family.” Richard always knew what buttons to push. Armand was the head of his family, he couldn’t—and would never—abandon them.
“You are very good at poking holes, Richard, but do you have any suggestions?” He bit off the next words because his friend didn’t deserve the anger. Not this time. If anyone was at fault it was Armand himself.
