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Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight
by Natalie Anderson
CHAPTER ONE
‘FI?’
Hester Moss heard the front door slam and froze.
‘Fifi? Damn it, where the hell are you?’
Fifi?
Hester gaped as it dawned on her just who the owner of that voice was. As Princess Fiorella’s assistant while she was studying in Boston, Hester had met a few of the important people the Princess consorted with, but she’d been in the Princess’s brother’s presence only once. That one time there’d been many present and she certainly hadn’t spoken to him. But, like everyone, she knew he was outrageous, arrogant and entitled. Not surprising given he ruled the stunning Mediterranean island kingdom that was the world’s favourite playground.
She’d had no idea he was coming to visit his sister. It wasn’t in the immaculate schedule she kept for the Princess, nor in any correspondence. Surely it would have been all in caps, bold, underlined and highlighted if it had been planned? Perhaps he was trying to fly beneath the radar—after all, he attracted huge publicity wherever he went. But if that were the case, why was he shouting?
‘Fifi?’
No one spoke with such familiarity to the Princess, or with such audible impatience. For a split second Hester considered staying silent and hiding, but she suspected it was only a matter of seconds before he stormed into her bedroom. With a cautious glance at the corner Hester sped to the door and quickly stepped out into their living room.
And there he was. Prince Alek Salustri of Triscari, currently turning the lounge she and the Princess shared into a Lilliputian-sized container—one that was far too small to hold a man like him. Not just a prince. Not just powerful. He was lithe, honed perfection and for a moment all Hester could do was stare—inhaling the way his jet-black suit covered his lean muscled frame. The black shirt beneath the superbly tailored jacket was teamed with a sleek, matte-black tie and he held his dark-lensed aviator sunglasses in his hand, totally exuding impatience and danger. It was more than the bespoke clothing and luxurious style. He was so at ease in his place in the world—monstrously self-assured and confident because he just owned it. Everything. Except right now?
He was angry. The moment his coal-black gaze landed on her, he grew angrier still.
‘Oh.’ His frown slipped from surly all the way down to thunderous. ‘You’re the secretary.’
Not for the first time Hester found herself in the position of not being who or what had been hoped for. But she was too practised at masking emotion to flinch. No matter what, she never let anyone see they’d struck a nerve. And being the source of irritation for a spoilt playboy prince? Didn’t bother her in the least.
‘Your Highness.’ She nodded, but her knees had locked too tight to perform a curtsey. ‘Unfortunately Princess Fiorella isn’t here.’
‘I can see that.’ He ground his teeth. ‘Where is she?’
She kept her hands at her sides, refusing to curl them into fists and reveal any anxiety. It was her job to protect Princess Fiorella from unwanted interruption, only Prince Alek wasn’t just higher up the ladder than most of the people she shielded the Princess from, he was at the very top. The apex predator himself.
‘At a bio lab,’ Hester drew breath and answered. ‘She should be back in about half an hour unless she decides to go for a coffee instead of coming back here right away.’
‘Damn.’ Another stormy emotion flashed across his face and he turned to pace across the room. ‘She’s with people?’
Hester nodded.
‘And no phone?’
‘Her bodyguard has one but the Princess prefers to be able to concentrate in class without interruption. Would you like me to message—?’
‘No,’ he snapped. ‘I need to see her alone. I’ll wait for her here.’
He still looked so fierce that Hester was tempted to send a quick message regardless. Except blatantly disobeying his order didn’t seem wise.
She watched warily as he paced, brusquely sidestepping Hester’s scrupulously clean desk.
‘Is there anything I can help you with?’ She was annoyed with how nervous her query sounded. She was never nervous dealing with Princess Fiorella. But she wasn’t quite sure how to handle this man. Any man, actually.
He paused and regarded her, seeming to see her properly for the first time. She stared back, acutely aware of his coal-black bottomless gaze. Whether those beautiful eyes were soulful or soulless, she wasn’t sure. She only knew she couldn’t tear her own away.
With slow-dawning horror she realised the inanity of her question. As if she could ever help him? He was Prince Alek—the Prince of Night, of Sin...of Scandal.
His phone buzzed and he answered it impatiently. ‘I’ve already said no,’ he snapped after a moment.
Even from across the room Hester heard the pleading tones of someone remonstrating.
‘I will not do that,’ the Prince said firmly. ‘I’ve already stated there will be no damn marriage. I have no desire to—’ He broke off and looked grim as he listened. ‘Then we will find another way. I will not—’ He broke off again with a smothered curse and then launched into a volley of Italian.
Hester stared at the top of her desk and wished she could disappear. Clearly he wasn’t concerned enough by her presence to bother remaining polite or care that she could hear him berating the ancient laws of his own lands.
The world had been waiting for him to be crowned since his father’s death ten months ago, but he hadn’t because ‘Playboy Prince Alek’ had so far shown little interest in acquiring the wife necessary for his coronation to occur. None of those billion Ten Best Possible Brides lists scattered across the world’s media had apparently inspired him. Nor had the growing impatience of his people.
Perhaps he’d been taking time to get over his father’s passing. Hester had seen Princess Fiorella’s bereft grief and had tried to alleviate
