Chapter 10
ALEX
The room I’ve claimed as an office is technically a sitting room. It has pastel wallpaper and furniture imbued with the faint scent of beeswax and old cigars. The floral upholstery of one of the armchairs is so cheery I had to cover it with my coat to think straight.
I sit at the desk with my laptop open.
Derek sprawls in the opposite chair, feet out, tie loose. We’re watching the news in silence.
The anchor smiles into the camera. “Princess Felicia has been transferred out of the intensive care unit. She is now recovering in a private wing of the Pombrio Hospital, surrounded by family and under round-the-clock care.”
Derek exhales sharply. “Good.”
The anchor presses a finger to her earpiece. “And we’re just getting confirmation of another positive development.”
I think I know what’s coming.
“The sniper responsible for the attack has been caught,” she announces. “He is alive and in custody. The public will be informed of further developments as soon as the authorities deem it appropriate.”
Derek pumps a fist into the air. “Finally!” he cries out. “I hope they make him sing. And I don’t mean with a lawyer present.”
I shut the laptop. “You want to conduct the waterboarding of the suspect yourself or leave it to MESS?”
“I’d volunteer, but I’ll let the pros handle it.” He grins.
I smile, too, trying to recapture the thrill of the arrest. Derek doesn’t need to know I already knew.
Eva and I got a secure message from Von Dietz two days ago.
As I’d suspected, when Prince Richard had made his announcement from the palace balcony, it wasn’t merely in celebration.
It was strategic. They had the sniper’s location and were hemming him in.
The announcement was a distraction to keep the bastard focused on the news, not on his escape route.
He was arrested that very night, quietly and surgically, while Eva and I were—
My jaw tightens. I stand and collect coffee cups and paper scraps from the table.
“You good?” Derek leans forward, elbows on knees.
I pause with one hand on a crumpled memo. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem tense.”
“I’m taking over the duchy while auditing the estate’s accounts and grading student papers. Wouldn’t you be tense?”
He watches me for a beat, then relaxes again. “Fair enough.”
Derek drums his fingers on the edge of my desk. “All right, back to business. As I was saying, you need to stay visible. Present. And charming.”
I lift my gaze from the map of farmer-owned plots. “Charming?”
“Your version of it.”
“I’m already letting Eva, Millie, and Brigitte stay, even though I don’t have to.”
Derek cocks his head. “Brigitte has her own house, plus the allowance she negotiated when your father divorced her, right?”
“Right,” I confirm.
“You could make a similar provision for Millie, and Eva could find a job like everyone else.”
I lift an eyebrow. “I sense your disapproval of my letting them stay here for as long as they need.”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“No?”
“It’s about optics and perception,” he explains. “You moved into Fort Vauclairt because you’re the new duke.”
“Eva would disagree.”
“Who cares?” He shrugs. “De facto and de jure, you’re the Duke of Rohinn now, and you’re showing generosity to Geoffroy’s family. That’s good optics.”
I stare at him, saying nothing.
“If I were you,” he continues, “I’d call the bishop of Rohinn to pick a date for the anointment ceremony.”
“That would be premature,” I argue. “We can’t rule out that Eva might win her case.”
He gives a vehement shake of his head. “She can’t.”
“Her lawyer has a great reputation,” I say.
“Pauline’s good,” he agrees. “Very thorough. But I’m craftier, more experienced, and more eloquent. Not to mention the law is on our side. We’re winning this, Alex.”
“You better be right, given what I’m paying you.”
He grins. “So, let me repeat. You’re the duke now. Act like one. Don’t just fix things, be seen fixing them.”
I nod.
Derek isn’t wrong. The duchy’s economy is bleeding. I’ve run the numbers, built the models, traced the decline year over year. It’s as bad as I feared.
Derek was also right about moving into Fort Vauclairt.
Despite what Eva thinks, the move wasn’t about power or territory.
It was about logistics. The castle is in the center of the duchy and already outfitted for work.
It’s the most effective base of operations for urgently fixing the Rohinn’s broken economy.
Settling here was the only rational thing to do.
But, speaking of optics, even a socially awkward mathematician like me knows how it looks. Especially to Eva.
It looks like a hostile takeover. Like I’m claiming not only her daughter’s inheritance and title, but also her home, and rubbing it in by sleeping under her roof.
The castle’s dining room is warmed by the fire crackling in the fireplace and filled with the smell of roasted meat. Crystal and silver reflect the flickering candlelight. The place looks like the scene of a peaceful family meal.
It isn’t.
Millie reaches for a bread roll, her eyes darting between the adults like she expects crossfire. Brigitte sips her wine without a word. In mourning black from head to toe and spurning the back support of the velvet chair, she manages to be rigid despite the amount of alcohol she pours into herself.
As for Eva, she’s a glacier in silk. Composed. Polished. Stunning in that sharp, distant way that signals her barely veiled contempt. Her wineglass sits untouched.
“Nice to see the chateau still has excellent kitchen staff,” I say, aiming for neutral civility.
Eva cuts into her meat like she’s filleting my flesh. “We don’t starve here even if the economy is in shambles as you claim.”
I chew slowly. “The farmers’ cooperative reported—”
“You didn’t want to wait even a week, did you?” she interrupts.
I look up. “Wait for what?”
“For the court to decide,” she says, voice flat. “But I guess you’ve always thought due process is for other people.”
Derek would advise silence.
But he left an hour ago, so I ignore his imagined advice. “The court can take months. The duchy’s economy can’t. People are hurting. Someone has to do something.”
She lets out a dry laugh. “So, you’ve appointed yourself savior?”
“You could say that.”
Her eyes flash. “How magnanimous!”
“It’s just who I am.” I keep my tone even. “So, now you know why I’m here.”
“You’re here,” she retorts crisply, “because claiming the duchy on paper wasn’t enough. You wanted to plant your flag in the courtyard, too.”
That stings, even though I expected it.
“I offered to let you and Millie stay,” I remind her.
“Such generosity!” She lifts her wineglass, still not drinking. “Don’t pretend this wasn’t meant to unsettle me.”
“I don’t play mind games, Eva.”
“The hell you don’t,” she hisses, losing some of her cool.
“Maman!” Millie shifts her reproachful gaze from Eva to me. “Uncle Alex! Can we not?”
I glance at Eva. She’s looking at her plate.
I try civility again. “Millie, how are your studies going?”
“Actually, I aced my math test,” she declares. “The one on sequences.”
I raise my brows. “Impressive.”
She beams, showing her braces. “Arithmetic and geometric.”
“Then you’re already ahead of half the financial advisors I’ve met,” I say.
Eva’s chair scrapes against the floor. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She disappears through the archway before I can say anything, leaving her intoxicating scent as a placeholder. The parallel to the morning after we made love at the Royal Pombrio is too strong to resist.
My brain flashes back to her hotel room.
Sunlight streams through the gap in the curtains, tickling my skin and prying me awake.
The first thing that registers is that incomparable fragrance of hers.
Only then do I realize I’m stark naked in a bed that isn’t mine.
In my mind’s eye, Eva is asleep beside me, warm and naked, tangled in white sheets.
I smile and reach for her, but my hand closes on empty space.
I open my eyes. I’m alone in bed.
I hear the shower. I wait.
The sound stops. She steps out fully dressed and eyes guarded.
“Last night didn’t happen,” she says.
I blink. “That’s blunt.”
She shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong. It was fun, but it changes nothing. And there will be no second time.”
“If you say so.”
Her expression doesn’t shift. “Glad we’re on the same page.”
And with that, she grabs her bag and leaves. Like she meant it. Like she hadn’t clung to me, gasping my name as she came. Like I didn’t kiss and lick every inch of her body. Like she didn’t give herself to me with an abandon a man remembers forever…
But hey, if Her Grace says it changes nothing, then it changes nothing.
I look back at my plate, but I’m not hungry anymore. I set my napkin down and stand.
Enough of this sentimental nonsense!
Tomorrow is a critical day. I have no teaching obligations, so I don’t have to drive into Pombrio.
My trusted accountant, Basil, and I will start reviewing the estate ledgers in the morning at seven to cover as much ground as we can.
After lunch, I’ll meet with the estate manager again, then tenant farmer reps, and then analyze production forecasts.
And tonight…
Tonight, like last night, and the night before, I’ll work on the paper I’m coauthoring with two other professors and then go for a late jog. It’s the best way I’ve found to exhaust myself, so I don’t dwell on Eva’s tight, hot pussy milking my throbbing cock.