Chapter 1 #2
She sent the woman a puzzled look at the unrelated question. "It's good. Sweet and mildly tart. Excellent vintage."
Ionie smiled in approval. "The queen would love to hear that. You should tell her in those exact words when you get there."
"Get--" Antoinette's eyes widened. "Spain? The job is in Spain?"
Ionie lifted an elegant shoulder. "You said you wanted to be far away. And I've been gushing your praises to her royal highness. She wants an admin assistant, one who's reliable, highly professional and most importantly, one who's not going to go throwing herself at her son."
Ionie's green eyes gleamed with mischief. "I assured her that wouldn't be you."
"Of course not."
"Before you respond so readily, why don't you take a look at the darling man?" She nodded to the magazine.
Antoinette's eyes went to the next page automatically, and what she saw had her lips curling in disgust. Prince Tomas was almost naked, the towel held up, barely, by one hand as he smiled for the camera.
His body was golden brown, his thick hair dark and unruly.
His teeth were startlingly white against his tanned skin.
Instead of dark eyes, he had inherited the green eyes from his mother.
They sparkled with mischief and made him look reckless. He was tall, the caption noted, his height topping over six feet. And he was ridiculously handsome.
"I'm immune." She was unaware how her voice had turned icy cold.
"Just what I told the queen." Ionie sipped her wine and studied her friend thoughtfully. "Which makes you perfect for the job. The compensation package is out of this world, and as long as you do an excellent job, you will fit in. You already speak the language, so that's an added bonus."
"Why me? Why not hire someone from her country?"
"She wants a connection to the States." Ionie stretched her legs out and purred like a cat. "And I suppose her son's abhorrence to American women makes you a wonderful fit."
"What's his problem with us?"
Ionie laughed softly. "He's European and royalty, and his family has been around for almost a thousand years. He thinks we're too loud and aggressive."
"Well." Putting aside the magazine, Antoinette reached for her wine. "He has nothing to fear from me."
"Does that mean you're interested?"
"Oh, absolutely. I'm more than ready to get the hell away from here."
*****
"You summoned?" The disapproval in his deep voice clearly stated that he was not in the least bit pleased. Far from it.
Lifting her head from the contract she had been perusing, Queen Sofia gazed at her only child from a tumultuous marriage and hid the smile that was lurking.
The prince was outrageously handsome. He was a stunning combination of her and his father, and she always thought he had gotten the best of them with some improvements.
His thick dark hair had a tendency to curl and was now tumbling over his high forehead, no doubt from being outdoors.
His skin was a smooth olive, a striking contrast to the eyes he had inherited from her.
He was tall, topping over six feet, and wore his riding habit very well. The leather boots shone from the loving care his valet had put in. The riding crop was tapping restlessly on his left thigh, and there was a frown marring his brow.
"I really do not appreciate you sending a servant to fetch me like I'm some, some child. I was in the middle of taking a ride."
"I understand that Zahra has been having some issues?" she asked, referring to his beloved horse.
"He picked up a splinter a day ago." His arrogant frown deepened even more. "I will of course be having words with the groom."
"Felipe is getting old and his eyesight is failing. Please be patient with him."
"He should be retired."
Queen Sofia regarded her son mildly. "He's more than a servant, as you very well know. And he needs to feel useful."
"If anything had happened to my horse--"
"Nothing did. Please sit."
"Is this going to take long? I really need to be on my way."
She waited until he had taken a seat on one of the padded chairs before leaning back in hers, green eyes regarding him with fond exasperation.
He reminded her so much of his father that it was heartbreaking.
He was thirty-five years old and showed no signs of settling down to take his rightful place in the kingdom.
She had to admit that it was her fault. He was entitled and spoiled, and she had contributed to that.
"Mother?" The impatience in his voice had her stirring from her memories.
"I hired someone."
His frown returned. "You have no need to run that by me. In fact, you never did before."
"She's an American."
"I see." He stretched his long-booted legs out and placed the riding crop across his thighs. "We've suddenly run out of applicants in the entire country?"
"I had to fire five assistants over the last year and a half."
"And you blame me for it?"
"They keep falling in love with you," she pointed out mildly.
"I never gave them a bit of encouragement."
"It does not matter."
"So, this American. I'm assuming it's a female?"
"Yes."
"She's a what? A troll or a lesbian?"
She had to laugh at his reasoning. "She's not your type."
"Then I suppose that's settled then." He started to rise when she waved a hand to stop him.
"I would like you to be here for supper so that you can meet her."
"When is this person coming?"
"She arrives this afternoon. We'll have supper earlier, at eight instead of ten, because I want her to retire early enough to get some rest."
"I have plans. And I really don't see the need to sit down with an employee."
His mother's brows lifted. "It was not a request. Antoinette Carter will be part of our household and should be made to feel comfortable."
"Of course." His face had stiffened, his voice frightfully formal. Rising lithely, he sent her an imperious glance. "Will that be all?"
"For now, yes."
With a curt nod, he left the room with her staring after him.
Sighing softly, Sofia reached for her cooling cup of tea and took a sip.
He frustrated her. Nothing she had done or tried to do was making him realize that it was time for him to grow up and settle down.
She wanted grandchildren, but most of all, she wanted to see him find someone suitable, fall in love and stay married to just one woman.
So far, his affairs were legendary and troubling.
His face was always splashed across the various tabloids.
He was reckless. His relationships, if they could be called that, only lasted for several weeks, and then he was off to the next.
He was thirty-five years old and still running all over the place. She wanted more for him.
He would sit in on meetings if she threatened him but would sit there looking bored and impatient to leave.
She looked around the elegant cream and gold office.
It had been her husband's. After he died, she had ruthlessly erased everything that reminded her of the man he was.
She had loved him. God help her, she had known who he was, what he was doing with all those women, and still she had loved him and had hoped he would come to his senses and stay faithful to her. That had never happened.
She wanted him to fall in love and give her grandchildren.
Pushing back from the desk, she made her way over to the window.
The stunning view made her smile. Spain was unlike every other country she had ever been to, including her own Ireland.
The grounds were immaculate. It was nearing fall, but the colors, the profusion of colors, was dazzling.
From where she stood, she could see the wide expanse of land that stretched for miles.
The palace was small compared to other monarchies, but it was well-kept and had a beauty that was legendary.
She had made sure of it. When her husband died and she had taken over, she had worked assiduously to restore their flagging resources, coming up with revolutionary ideas that she had once presented to her husband, only to be ignored because it was not her place to make a contribution.
"Do not worry your pretty little head about such things, querida." She could still hear the condescending tone King Eduardo Garcia-Perez had often used with her.
She had proven him and all the stick-in-the-mud members of the board incredibly wrong.
In just over two years, she had turned everything around.
Business was flourishing, and their newest venture, a vineyard that was producing some of the best vintages, was taking off.
There had been objections there as well, but she had learned to ignore them and go with her instinct.
She was turning to return to her desk when the man on horseback caught her eye.
Her son was a superb rider, which was not surprising since he had been riding as soon as he learned to walk.
She stood there admiring his erect frame.
He was one with his animal, both fluidly clearing hedges with little or no effort.
She stood there watching until they disappeared over the rugged terrain.
Sighing softly, she returned to her desk.
It was lonely being at the top. She was responsible for so much that there was no time to even relax or think about herself.
Picking up the contract, she started reading again and making notes.
The young lady who was on her way was going to have a vast amount of work to do.
Sofia considered that she would give her the weekend to get acclimatized. After that, it would be wading in. She had been without an assistant for several weeks now, and the work had piled up.
Picking up the personnel folder, she studied the smiling photo thoughtfully before leafing through the documents.
She had quite an impressive resume, and what had drawn her interest was the fact that the woman spoke several languages.
Ionie had told her the backstory in confidence.
The betrayal of discovering her fiancé in bed with her best friend was something that had to stab her like a thousand knives.
They had something in common, Sofia thought grimly. They would work from there.