Reluctant Prince

By DANI-LYN ALEXANDER

LYRICAL PRESS

An imprint of Kensington Publishing Corp.

KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/

Elaina, thank you so much for your support, encouragement and help. I love you, and I’m so proud of the young woman you’ve become!

This book would not have been possible without the support and encouragement of my husband, Greg. We’ve built a wonderful life together, and I can’t wait to see where our journey will lead next.

I’d like to say a big thank you to my children, Elaina, Nicky and Logan for their understanding and help while I spent long nights at the computer. The three of you have brought more joy to my life than I ever could have imagined. My husband and children are truly the loves of my life.

I also have to thank my best friend, Renee, for all of her support, long conversations and reading many rough drafts. I still wouldn’t know how to use Word without your help.

I’d like to thank my sister, Debby, who is probably my biggest fan and has read every word I’ve ever written.

To my agent, Dawn Dowdle, thank you so much for believing in me and for being there in the middle of the night every time I have a question. Words cannot express my gratitude to Renee Rocco for giving me this opportunity and for a gorgeous cover, my editor, Penny Barber for her wonderful advice and assistance in polishing this manuscript, and my publicist, Ellen Chan, who went above and beyond to help make this story a success.

“Come on, Mia. I can’t be late.” Ryleigh engaged the lock and dropped the keys into her bag. She resisted the urge to check her watch again as she started across the parking lot. What good would it do?

“I’m coming.” Mia rounded the back of the car and ran to catch up. “Sorry, I had to tie my shoe.” She tried to shove the mass of curly, brown hair behind her ears, but it kept tumbling back into her face, covering big, blue eyes that were still red rimmed and puffy.

A bolt of sympathy shot through Ryleigh, and she hugged her sister. “It’s okay, honey, not a big deal. I’m just a little nervous. You remember what to do, right?”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Yes, Ryleigh, I remember. Sit in the lobby, don’t move, don’t talk to anyone, and stay out of trouble.”

They both grinned as they hurried toward the building.

Mia sobered. “Do you think you’ll get the job?”

“I don’t know. But even if I don’t, it’ll be okay.” A car backed out in front of her, and she grabbed Mia’s arm.

“How can you be sure?” Mia’s tears started again.

Great. She couldn’t leave her sitting alone in the lobby blubbering. Grandmother’s watch showed only five minutes to make it to the third floor. Taking both of Mia’s shoulders in her hands, she turned her until they stood face to face. “It will be okay, Mia. I promise. You have to trust me.”

“I don’t want to live with someone else.”

Ryleigh’s heart broke. “I know.” Seconds ticked off in her head. “Please, trust me. I’ll make sure we stay together. Okay?”

Mia nodded, once again tumbling curls into her face.

Ryleigh tucked them back behind Mia’s ear. How would she ever make things right? “Come on. After this, I’ll take you for pizza.”

Her sister smiled hesitantly, and they resumed their rush, Mia struggling to keep up. Whether she got the job or not, she would take Mia to Tony’s for pizza. Not that they could afford it, but Mia needed time to be a kid. Actually, Ryleigh did too.

Ryleigh led Mia to the small seating arrangement in the corner past the main reception desk. “Now remember—”

“I know, I know. Just go.” Rolling her eyes, Mia curled into the chair.

“Love you, little sis.”

“Me too, big sis.”

The twelve-story building had plenty of traffic moving through the lobby. Mia would be all right, but Ryleigh still worried. Mia was fourteen, but her tiny frame made her seem more like ten or eleven. Tucked into the large armchair, with an oversized book open in front of her, she appeared so fragile. Getting this job was too important to mess up, and taking Mia upstairs with her might appear unprofessional. She jabbed the button for the third floor. No way would she let anyone take Mia from her. She’d find a way to support them, somehow.

Exiting the elevator, Ryleigh tried to read the crumpled napkin she’d jotted the suite number on while running out the door that morning. Of course, now she couldn’t make out her own handwriting. Four o’clock on the dot. She was late. She raced down the corridor as quickly as her pumps would allow.

When she turned the corner at the wall of smoked glass bordering the lobby, she stopped short, overwhelmed by the luxury of the grown-up world she was about to enter. Maybe she should bring Mia up there to sit. There was plenty of room. Surely, they would understand she had to keep Mia with her. Another glimpse at her watch propelled her through the door marked Jacobs & McClain.

The rhythmic clack, clack, clack of her heels as she crossed the wood floor should have been enough to announce her arrival to the receptionist. At the receptionist’s desk, she cleared her throat twice.

The woman turned her paperback over. “Yes?”

Ryleigh cleared her throat again and discreetly wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt. “Umm…” Great start. “I…umm…”

The woman tapped a beautifully manicured, blood red nail against the back of her book and tilted her head.

The rude gesture quelled Ryleigh’s nerves and pulled her back ramrod straight. “I’m here to see Mr. Jacobs.”

“Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist lifted a perfectly arched eyebrow.

The stakes were too high for her to choke now. She mirrored the woman’s haughty tone. “Of course.” Was this how you had to act to work here? She hoped not. Ryleigh couldn’t treat people with the bored indifference this woman had mastered.

The woman checked her appointment book, and Ryleigh tried to dismiss her growing apprehension. With her grandmother gone now, she needed this job to support herself and Mia. Her breath hitched. Had it really been only a week since her grandmother’s death? She fought tears, as well as the urge to run away, and struggled to regain control. She had to pull herself together. Mia had no one else left.

“Follow me.”

Ryleigh jumped.

Beside her, the receptionist stood tapping her foot against the deep, rich wood floor.

Ryleigh flushed and lowered her gaze. What was she doing here?

She followed the ice queen down a long corridor, the thick carpet and pinching shoes making it difficult to walk.

The woman stopped before a set of large double doors, and when she shoved them open dramatically, Ryleigh couldn’t suppress an equally dramatic eye roll. Although she managed to halt her eyes mid-roll, the smirk on Mr. Jacobs’ face told her it had been too late.

“Hello, Ms. Donnovan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He came around the desk and extended his hand as the witch closed the doors behind them. His thick, dark hair and trim build surprised her. For some reason she’d expected an older man.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Jacobs. Thank you for your time.” Praying he didn’t notice how sweaty her palm was, she shook his hand.

He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and she sat. He surprised her again by taking the chair next to hers and turning it to face her. His warm smile was a stark contrast to the cold greeting she’d received from his receptionist but did little to dispel her nerves.

She brushed her hair behind her ear and dropped her hand to her lap, hoping Mr. Jacobs hadn’t noticed how badly it shook.

“She’s a temp,” he said conspiratorially, as if that explained everything. Well, perhaps it did, if the position Ryleigh was applying for was the one the temp now held.

“I’ve gone over your resume.” He opened a folder and flipped a page. “Your references are quite impressive, and your work history is commendable. You’re young to have been at the same company for three years.” He frowned and thumbed through a couple of pages.

The owner of Spencer Associates had been kind enough to hire her when she’d been only fourteen years old. Her responsibilities had included filing, vacuuming, and emptying garbage pails for the company her parents had both worked for before a terrorist attack had cut their lives short.

“I don’t see your graduation date listed here.”

Ahh, the dreaded question. She hoped to avoid answering.

Mr. Jacobs lifted his gaze from the paperwork in his lap and watched her expectantly.

“Well…umm…” She cleared her throat to dislodge the lump.

He leaned back, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders. “I haven’t actually graduated, yet, but the school is willing to work with me on a work study program. I only need two more classes to graduate. They’ve scheduled those classes first thing in the morning, so I’ll be finished by nine o’clock. I can be here no later than nine-thirty.”

He shook his head, his eyes cast down at the application in his hand.

“I really need this job.”

Mr. Jacobs stood. “I don’t know. Our workday starts at eight thirty.” He moved behind his desk. At least he hadn’t said no. But he didn’t sit down either. That couldn’t be a good sign.

She plowed on. What did she have to lose? “I’m a hard worker, and I’ll stay later to make up for the hour I’m late in the morning.” The pleading note in her voice irritated her. She was only one step away from begging.

“It’s not that. You have great references, and I’m sure you’re a hard worker, but a lot of work gets done in that first hour. Calls have to be returned, emails answered.” He tossed the application onto his cluttered desk and rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry, Ryleigh. I understand you need the job.”

Ryleigh stood. This couldn’t be happening. With only a few months left until graduation, she didn’t want to be forced to drop out, but what else could she do? “Look, Mr. Jacobs, can’t you just—” Vertigo assailed her. The room rocked, and she grabbed the desk.

Mr. Jacobs grabbed the back of his chair. His eyes mirrored her panic. Books flew from the shelves. Glass shattered.

She had to get to Mia.

She turned to run. The building bucked, and she toppled, slamming her knee into the hard wood floor. Pain shot up her leg. She grabbed the chair to pull herself up, but the next wave threw her back down. She tried to regain her footing, but someone yanked her to the ground.

“Stay down.” Mr. Jacobs shoved her forward. He crawled beside her, half pushing, half dragging her toward the door.

Debris pelted her back, shoulders, and head. How could she have left Mia? Tears blurred her vision.

“If it’s an earthquake, it should stop any minute. Just keep crawling toward the door.”

Desperately wishing she could cover her ears to block the screaming, she clawed forward. Her knee dragged behind her, pain pulsing with each movement. Falling apart wouldn’t help matters. She had to get to Mia.

Ryleigh crawled through the doorway, into utter chaos. People trying to push through the mess, others huddled in corners shielding their heads. An injured woman cried as she rocked back and forth clutching her arm. A man crouched over her.

Fear and disorientation held Ryleigh immobile.

Mr. Jacobs pulled her.

Pressing her back to the wall, she sat with her knees pulled up to her chest and finally slapped her hands over her ears. It didn’t block the screams. A chair shattered the smoky glass window.

Mr. Jacobs tried to shield her from flying glass, broken ceiling tiles, and projectiles that had once been office supplies.

She threw her arms over her head and curled into a ball, making as small a target of herself as possible. Painful sobs wracked her body. Was this a terrorist attack like the one that killed her parents? An earthquake? They didn’t have earthquakes on Long Island. Smoke assailed her.