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Even as she said the words she felt an unholy glee at the knowledge that this would be his worst nightmare.
For a second, sheer horror etched his face. ‘Forget it. I told you—I won’t be blackmailed.’
‘It’s not blackmail. It’s a means to help me make a decision and a way for me to retrieve my reputation with Kathy.’
There was a long silence as he gazed past her, clearly deep in thought. His fingers drummed the desk in an impatient tattoo and then ceased as he looked at her.
For an instant she thought he’d call her bluff, but then he nodded. ‘OK. But I get to vet the finished product.’
‘We can discuss the finished product,’ she conceded even as she frowned. Had that been too easy? Why on earth had he capitulated? ‘But that doesn’t mean you get to rewrite it, and when I interview you it will be on the record. You get that, right?’
‘Sure,’ he said easily—and as she looked into those dark eyes she knew damn well that he had no intent of letting her anywhere near the real him. Well, they would see...
Curiosity, determination and a funny little thrill shot through her. ‘So, when do we start?’
‘No time like the present. I have meetings scheduled this morning on education, on overseas aid, and a general security briefing. I’ll need to talk to Frederick and get this cleared. Then, tonight, we’ll attend a charity ball.’
‘A charity ball?’
Insidious panic touched her. The entire concept of attendance at any glitterati function as a guest filled her with acute anxiety. Too overwhelming—too much. Since Edward’s death she had avoided social occasions as if they truly could give her the plague—the thought of making conversation was too much.
‘Yes. It’s an annual event, hosted by Rafael Martinez and his wife—’
‘Cora Derwent,’ April completed. ‘Lady Kaitlin Derwent’s twin sister. The same Lady Kaitlin who was once linked with Prince Frederick.’
‘That’s the one.’ Marcus picked up his phone. ‘I’ll call now and explain that I’ll be taking up my plus one option.’
‘I... I don’t have anything to wear.’
His look indicated that he felt she might have lost the plot. ‘You are in a shopper’s paradise, April. That won’t be a problem.’
‘Of course.’ Seeing his look of puzzlement, she forced a smile. ‘I’ll hit the shops at lunchtime.’
For heaven’s sake, she should be pleased—she would be attending a function where celebrities would abound, and most importantly she’d won an exclusive scoop—the chance to shadow Marcus Alrikson for four days.
The words encircled her brain. Shadow Marcus Alrikson for four days.
Suddenly the sense of victory was hollow in her tummy. What on earth had made her believe this was a good idea?
* * *
‘Why is this a good idea?’
Prince Frederick sat behind the ornate antique desk in the Lycander throne room, a look of genuine bewilderment on his face.
Marcus sat opposite him and did his best to maintain an expression of being totally in control of the situation.
‘Let me get this straight,’ Frederick continued, one blond eyebrow raised in question. ‘You have agreed to let April Fotherington shadow you for four days, including council meetings, and she is going to write an article on “the real Marcus Alrikson” as well as the wedding article?’
‘Yes.’
‘I don’t get it.’ Frederick shook his head. ‘I mean, I understand you don’t want April to pursue the other story, but this doesn’t sound like the usual ruthless Alrikson approach.’
‘Sometimes the ruthless approach isn’t the best option.’ Even to himself the words sounded lame. ‘I decided this was the best way to head off the threat.’
Yup. More and more lame.
The royal eyebrow rose further. ‘But at the end of the four days April might still pursue the story?’
