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The senator’s expression changed from confusion to acceptance immediately. “Of course. I should have guessed.” He bowed and excused himself, no doubt searching for a more receptive heir for his flirtations.
“Really, Elizabeth? At least try to be civil.”
“Since when does civility preclude bluntness?”
“Since always, you heathen,” the chairwoman snapped as the auctioneer climbed down from the stage, conferring with Olivia. The slave auction would no doubt begin soon. “I have half a mind to drop you in St. Kitts for the next two weeks. Chef is right. You’re starved, and it’s making you act like a bratty teenager.”
Lila frowned. The three highborn resorts on St. Kitts catered to a certain clientele, the sort who could appreciate their special touches: sheets made of the finest Egyptian cotton, tubes of lube on the bed pillows, and sheets of condoms in the bedside drawer. One needed an appetite, a flush bank account, and a fresh STD screening and vaccination for admission, the latter two provided on site.
Apparently the food wasn’t bad either—not that anyone booked a room for that reason.
“I’m not starved,” she lied, trying to shake Tristan from her mind once more.
A naked Tristan.
“See to your attitude, then, or you’ll choose between St. Kitts or taking a lover for the season, for all our sakes.” Her mother dragged her to the back of the ballroom, toward a man who wore the most beautifully tailored coat and breeches in the room: pure snow white, unspoiled by any family’s colors, unmarked by any coat of arms. He had the shoulders to carry it well, with the cut unable to hide the body of the athlete inside. His salt-and-pepper hair matched all the experience he had gained during his time in the New Bristol, Saxony, and Unity senates.
Now he ruled them all as prime minister.
“Lila, girl.” Lemaire pulled her into a bear hug. Lila had missed seeing her father over the last few weeks. He spent most of his time at Unity but governed from Bullstow during Father’s Week each month, for the bulk of his children resided in or near New Bristol. “I hated watching the news last week. I couldn’t help feeling like I’d really lost my daughter. The senators and highborn in Unity offered me their condolences for two days straight. I worked from my suite because I couldn’t listen to it anymore.”
“I’m okay.”
He squeezed her one more time, then reluctantly let her go. “Never do that for real.”
“Same to you,” she said with a smile. “I heard your plane landed this morning. I knew you’d turn up early.”
“I always do, don’t I?” He turned and smiled at the chairwoman. The smile was not the smile of romantic love but the smile of equals, the smile of soul mates, the smile of many roads traveled in the company of a friend. He kissed the chairwoman’s cheeks, lingering too long on each. “Bea, you look stunning as usual.”
“Likewise. It’s been weeks since you’ve seen the compound. You should come back with me after the auction. We could share a bottle of wine and watch the leaves fall.”
“Your offer is tempting. It’s so tempting that I’ll have to accept.”
Her mother chuckled, a real chuckle for once. Lila knew the difference.
The prime minister laughed back, pleased to hear it as well.
“Where’s your security force?” Lila asked, thankful they had not entered the room during the failed heist. Their practiced eyes would have deemed her suspicious as soon as she’d pulled out her palm.
“I gave them an hour off for a late lunch. The LeBeaus seemed to have everything well in hand.”
“I doubt that sincerely.”
Her father let the comment slide. “Bea, I see that you’ve put up Oskar Kruger for auction.”
The chairwoman inclined her head.
“Unity wants him.”
“Everyone wants him. Does Unity want him enough to pay?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to pay what the others won’t?”
Lemaire eyed the chairwoman. “The government cannot compete with the whims of the matrons. You know I’ll not be able to outbid anyone in this room.”
“Then have this conversation with the winning matron. Perhaps she’ll gift him to you.”
