"That kind of life isn't for me." In the past, he would have sounded more convincing.
"You're the prince, an actual prince, which means you're going to have to get married and start producing heirs."
"When the time is right, I'm sure I will be choosing a suitable bride who will be bearing my name and my children. For now, I'm enjoying my freedom."
Christos gave him a shrewd look. "I used to be like you. I said as much, though few of us can beat you when it comes to bagging women. You collect them the way some men collect stamps. It's a lonely life."
Tomas gave him a derisive look. "You're preaching fidelity to me now. Changing diapers and lack of sleep have addled what little brain cells you had."
"It's called being very happy." He lifted his glass in a toast. "And right now, you look as if you've lost your best friend. You look lonely."
"By choice. I got two keys since I stepped foot inside the door. The delectable Rebecca Montclair and the nubile Alecia Drummond. I can have my choice of women."
"And yet, here you are hiding out in the ivory lounge."
"I'm not hiding out." He realized he sounded defensive and tried to temper his tone. "I just needed to drink alone. Have some thinking to do."
Christos made a scoffing sound inside his throat. "You look like a man who has a lot on his mind. Must be a woman."
It took a supreme amount of skill for Tomas to keep his expression neutral.
"I'm not like you. I don't think about women like that. I never give them that amount of power."
"Hmm."
"What?"
"Nothing. How about joining me for supper? Unless you're going to take up the ladies' invitations and join one or both of them for the evening."
"I need to eat. And you should show the proper respect by addressing me as your royal highness."
Christos stared at him for a minute before chuckling. "My ass."
"Father was right," Tomas muttered with a grin. "We do not get the proper recognition our titles deserve."
"You're a dying breed, my friend," Christos said cheerfully, clapping him on the shoulder. "Now let's go get something to eat."
*****
"I apologize profusely for my tardiness. Señor Garcia insisted on going through the entire account with me to verify the transactions and on top of that, I was cornered as soon as I stepped outside the bank by reporters. They are damn parasites. Excuse…" Her voice trailed off as she caught the person rising from the sofa at the back of the large office and recognized who it was. He was back! Quenching the sudden leap of her heart at the sight of him, she lifted her chin.
"Prince." Forcing herself to acknowledge his presence, she turned toward the woman who also rose.
"I was apprised of the situation regarding the press."
"I can see you're occupied, so I'll-" She started to retreat when Queen Sofia held up an imperious hand to stop her.
"Prince Tomas would like to have a word with you and I'm running late for a meeting with the board." She came alongside Antoinette. "Kindly hear him out."
It was not a request and they both knew it.
"Of course." Forcing a smile, Antoinette waited until the door had closed before rounding on the silent man standing by the window. The watery sun filtering through the large pane of glasshighlighted his dark hair and golden skin. He was wearing an emerald green sweater that did something wonderful to his eyes, making them appear like the color of the sea.
And he was smiling slightly. A slow, devastating smile that was doing something funny to her insides. It made her even angrier.
"I have work to do, so please say whatever it is you think you should say to me and let me get on with it."
At this moment, it did not matter a damn that he was royalty and kind of her boss. She wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.
