Something in the Heir (It's Reigning Men, #1) (3 page)

“And you don’t want to see me stuck with that witch for the rest of my life, do you?”

“Are you kidding me? I’d practically marry her myself just to spare you,” his friend said. “Although, honestly, I couldn’t be that devoid of self-respect, so sorry, she’s all yours.” He chucked him in the arm, a sign of friendship he could only display amongst their closest of friends lest the “hired help” look like more. That whole propping up the royal stature thing really bugged Adrian, but Darcy didn’t mind at all.

“I need some space, Darcy,” Adrian said. “I need time to think. And maybe to give my mother reason to care more about me as a person rather than a mere branch of the family tree that needs to be spliced together with what she deems to be an appropriate mate. I’m more than a glorified version of one of Mother’s beloved horses, set out to stud to sire racehorse-quality offspring.

“I can’t even stomach the concept of spending the rest of my life with Serena, let alone the reality of it. I’d give up my royal status and take a job flipping burgers at McDonald’s before I submit to my mother’s demands on this one.”

“Would you mind telling me how exactly you’re going to succeed with this? You know your mother always gets what she wants. She’s the queen, for God’s sake.”

“Yes, well, maybe the queen needs to realize her boy is a man now, capable of acting on his own behalf. And I’m going to start that right now.”

“By?”

“By slipping away from here, unannounced. Getting out. Going somewhere. Doing something. For once not being led around with a bit in my mouth and a crop at my flanks. I need to get away, Darcy. And I need it now. I can’t hide in Monaforte. But I can easily get lost in America. Think about it — it’s a brilliant idea. Disappear for a while, see what it’s like to actually live a bit.”

“So you’re running away from home then?”

“Don’t make it sound so childish. It’s nothing of the sort.”

Darcy stood back and stared hard at his friend, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders back, his closely-cropped blond hair in direct contrast with the shiny black waves Adrian sported. He leaned forward and fixed his brown eyes to Adrian’s blue ones.

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

“I think it’s the first decision I’ve been serious about my whole life. I’m tired of living the life everyone expects of me. I need to see what it’s like to just be
me
out there, Darcy. I need you to help me escape. You can hold everyone at bay when they start asking questions. I know I’m asking a lot of you, but I swear to you I’ll be safe and I will return, soon. But not before I discover who the hell I really am.”

His friend thought for a few minutes, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger, staring off into space,. Finally he looked back at Adrian.

“You really think this is what you should do?”

Adrian nodded his head. “Look, not to slight you, but I don’t think you can totally appreciate where I’m coming from. You’re a marquess. If you decided to quit me, you could go back and lord over your father’s estate and manage the family business. You aren’t stuck as an appendage to the institution of the palace. You aren’t carrying the weight of a country on your shoulders.”

“You know one day I’ll have no choice in that matter,” Darcy said. “Once my father’s gone.” He looked down, hating that idea, since he adored his father.

Adrian waved his hands, dismissing that concern. “Your father’s healthy as a horse. It’ll be years till it’s your problem to deal with.”

“We can only hope,” his friend said. "Though yes, you’re right, I don’t have to partake in the dog and pony show of being the heir to the throne that you’re stuck with. I get that. And you know I’m only here for you because it’s you. We’ve been best friends since we met on the train on the way to boarding school when we were five. Hard to turn down a bloke I’ve known since his voice squeaked like a mouse.”

“At least mine deepened into a man’s voice,” Adrian said, chiding him.

“Oh yeah? You think I still sound like a little girl?” Darcy said, making his voice go as high as possible.

The men laughed.

Darcy shook his head. “This goes against my better judgment. The queen would about kill me if she knew I was going to do this. Make that she would actually kill me. With her bare hands. But your wishes take precedence over hers for me,” Darcy said. “If for no other reason than to spare you a lifetime of high-maintenance, low return-on-investment Serena, I’ll do it.”

Adrian looked puzzled, like he’d just been awarded a huge prize. “You’ll actually go along with this? You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?”

“Christ, Ade. You and I practically finish each other’s sentences. I’ve seen what your life is like. I know a lot of it is fun and games, beautiful women, fawning attention, but I also know how much pressure rests on you to always be perfect, to never fail your family, your adoring public, and your family.”

He put air quotes around that “adoring” part.

“Yes, well, I do have a lot of adoring fans,” Adrian said, mocking himself. “What with all those little old grannies who give me crocheted booties, begging me to produce a royal heir.”

“Good lord, the last thing you need right now is a royal heir, particularly minus a royal bride. And I can promise you, Serena is
not
going to fill that void on my watch.”

Adrian grabbed his friend by the shoulders. “You think we can make this work?”

Darcy buffed his nails on his chest as if showing off his prowess. “Are you kidding? With me as the brains behind this operation?”

“Perfect. Then how are we going to pull this off?”

“We? I thought this was your plan!”

“I don’t have a plan, simply a need. I hadn’t thought through how to implement the thing,” he said. “How about we just work our way out of this holding room and I sneak out some back door, unnoticed. How hard could that be? There must be another way to slip out — maybe an employee entrance?”

Darcy chewed on this idea. He looked over to see a computer on a nearby desk. “Hmmm, let’s see here,” he said, walking over to the computer to see what he could find.

He typed in a bunch of keywords, trying a variety of searchable words until he finally found what he was looking for — a map of the building indicating various exits and detailing all rooms and spaces within.

“So much for national security. You can find pretty much anything on the Internet these days,” Darcy said, shaking his head. “Looks like you can work your way down this back staircase. Along this long corridor there appear to be a series of rooms. One would think there should be an unlocked room or two along there you could pop into to remain undetected, in case a security guard comes down that hallway. If nothing else there’s always the loo.” He pointed to the men’s room sign.

He reached into the breast pocket of his cashmere overcoat.

“Here, take this,” he said. It was his wallet, containing plenty of cash and credit cards.

“These are what you call dollars in America,” he said with wink as he opened it wide to reveal a thick wad of bills.

“Ha-ha. Very funny. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“So you like to tell me. But it’s not like you’ve been out painting the town red on your own before.”

“I’m not planning to paint anything red, or blue, or purple for that matter. That would draw a bit of attention, don’t you think? Besides which, I’m not Zander.”

Sometimes he wished he could be his brother Alexander, famously known as Zander, last year caught by paparazzi while cavorting naked in a Las Vegas swimming pool with a bevy of equally unclad, very young and very hot women. Seems you could get away with just about anything if weren’t the heir to the throne, and the worst that happened to you was a little tongue-lashing from Mother, once the tabloids had their fill of splashing the overexposing pictures across their front pages. And Zander could hardly have cared less.

Darcy shook his head.

“Just having at it with you, boss. Listen, I’m giving you my credit cards. The cash is from the palace anyhow — it’s what I use as mad money when you need it. I don’t want to give you the palace credit cards as they’d find you immediately if you used them.”

He fumbled around in another pocket.

“Oh, and you’ll want this.” Darcy handed Adrian’s passport to him. “I know you wouldn’t be daft enough to leave the country, but it’s always a good idea to have this on you just in case of an emergency. That way if you have to prove you are the future heir to the throne, maybe they’d actually believe you.

“Right now, I’m going to provide some pass interference for you. I’ll tell the bodyguards that there’s a woman involved and the two of you need some privacy, just to keep them at bay. I’ll escort you to a lavatory and give you a chance to be out of the line of vision for enough time.

At that point, you need to follow this path, and get out fast. Once you’re out, hail a taxi — you do know how to do that, right?”

“I think I can figure it out.” Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Once you’re in a taxi, I’d suggest you figure out a way out of town. You’ve got two phones on you: your official palace one, and your own private one that I lined up for you. You’d better hand over the palace version or else they’ll find you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

“‘Two shakes of a lamb’s tail’? Sometimes I wonder if you should’ve been a nanny to small children.”

“Please. I’ve got my hands full enough being your de facto governess.” He raised his eyebrows and pointed to his friend. “This is the most important thing: stay in touch with me. I am ultimately responsible for your well-being, so you owe it to me to stay in touch. You can call, you can text. Whatever you do, keep me apprised of where you are going and whom you are with. And most importantly, be wise about who you fraternize with.”

“Fraternize? I’m going to find myself, not find a hook-up. Trust me, the last thing I need is a woman in my life. Particularly an American one who lives thousands of miles away from me and hasn’t a drop of royal blood in her. Wouldn’t my mother just love that?"

“Might be better if she at least has less liquor on her blood than Serena. Oh, I nearly forgot perhaps the most important thing. Just in case.” He reached into yet another pocket. “Whatever you do, take these. We can’t afford to have unwanted princelings popping up in the States nine months henceforth, you know.” He tucked a wad of condoms into Adrian’s palm.

Adrian rolled his eyes. “Unnecessary optimist.”

“I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I didn’t wish for you to get laid, now would I? Now, go, before I change my mind about your brilliant escape plan.”

N
ight
had long since fallen by the time Emma left the building. The breathtaking grandeur of the Library and the Capitol dome set against the darkening cobalt sky was something she never tired of. That, combined with twinkling Christmas lights from charming nearby rowhouses on Capitol Hill, made the view so beautiful that she decided to lean against a tree and just take in the scenery for a few minutes, enjoying the simple beauty of the moment.

She pondered what it was that had her so agitated about her work these days. After all, what better setting to work in? And what fascinating subjects, barring such exciting shoots as the morticians association annual meeting, which was coming up in a few weeks. Maybe it was just that feeling of wanting something more in life, maybe even someone to share it with. Though, ugh, so far sharing with someone hadn’t exactly worked out, what with her last three boyfriends backfiring so spectacularly. Thank goodness Caro hadn’t even brought up Gordon, bless his heart, who insisted he wasn’t gay even after she found out he and his boyfriend had shared her bed when she was out of town last year.

Emma blew a tuft of hair out of her face, heaved a sigh, and pushed herself away from the tree.

She rifled in her purse for her keys, as she had a long walk to her car and liked to keep her keys at the ready just in case she needed to poke a mugger in the eyes—or further south—unexpectedly. While she shook her purse trying to unearth the things, a hand closed over her mouth and an arm around her waist.

She gasped, ready to scream her lungs out, when a familiar accented voice whispered in her ear. “Peas, peas, be quiet. It’s me, Adrian. Whatever you do, don’t scream. Please, don’t scream.”

Her heart raced like a hummingbird’s. The only thing keeping her from fainting in fear was the recognition of that voice and her stupid comment being thrown back at her from earlier in the evening. But why? What? Huh?

“I’m so sorry. Believe me I’m not going to hurt you at all. I need you to turn around very quietly, please. I need your help desperately,” the voice whispered, his breath so close to her ear she could feel her hair shifting with each word he spoke.

“Just turn around casually and pretend I’m a friend who surprised you, in case anyone’s watching.”

She knew no one was watching. She’d walked out a back exit to a virtually empty street just moments beforehand, save the occasional taxi cab speeding past. Her breath came fast, even as she told herself surely she was safe. It was only the prince. The prince?
The prince!
What would someone like him need from her? And why was he standing out on the street, alone, begging for her help?

She turned around and his hand slipped away from her mouth, though he then moved it down to clasp his other behind her back, securing her body close to his. If these were other circumstances and she wasn’t being accosted by the guy, she’d almost think he was about to kiss her. Which wouldn’t have been so objectionable, were she not still feeling a bit terrified.

“Would you mind telling me what the hell you are doing, your
highness
?” She put extra emphasis on the word, just to be sure he knew she was pissed. “You’re lucky I didn’t kick you in the family jewels. Considering your family, that might have been considerable.” She laughed nervously at her own bad joke.

He rolled his eyes. He’d heard that family jewels joke about, oh, a bazillion times over the years. He did, after all, attend boarding school with a plenty of rambunctious and completely idiotic boys.