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Coop didn’t bother getting up from his chair, but merely held it out, which forced the prince to scramble from the chaise to get his greedy hands on it.
The prince shoved the ring on his stubby finger. It immediately flopped to the side. He twisted it back into place and held it there as if he never intended to let it go. “A superb piece.” He took his time admiring it, even wandering toward the glass-topped dinner table where the light was better. Finally, he said, “Some beautiful ladies will be arriving soon. You’ll stay and enjoy them with me.”
Coop had the opening he’d been both waiting for and dreading. “I can’t pass up an invitation like that.” He rose from his chair and pulled out his cell. “I have a PR event, but let me see if I can get out of it.” He carried his cell to the doors that opened onto the suite’s wraparound terrace and dialed Sherlock, who was waiting in his car around the corner.
“Roy, it’s Coop,” he said when she answered. “Something came up, and I need to get out of that event at the Union League tonight. Fix it for me, will you?”
“Are you still with him?” she asked.
He glanced over to see the prince fingering the ring. “Yeah, I know I signed a contract, but I can’t make it.”
“I haven’t forgotten that you’re my first responsibility . . .” She sounded worried. “I knew this could be risky. If you need me to get you out of there, I’ll come up right away.”
“Hell, no!” That’s the last thing he wanted: Piper Dove rushing in with her magic bracelets and golden lasso. “You didn’t tell me there was going to be that much press.”
“You’re the best.”
“All right. I’ll be there.” He disconnected and shoved his cell back into his pocket. “Damn it all to hell. I can’t skip out. I gotta leave.” He dipped his head regretfully, as if he’d lost the chance of a lifetime. “It’s not too often I meet somebody who understands how to live big the way you do.” More headshaking on his part. More regret. Now came the tricky part.
He went over to reclaim his ring. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about, but . . . Oh, well . . .” He held out his hand.
The ring stayed where it was. “Please. Tell me what it is.”
“This is kind of embarrassing.” Mortifying was more like it. “But you and me . . . we’re men of the world, right? Discriminating about the finer things. The two of us . . . we know what we want.”
“Of course.” The prince caressed the ring with his thumb.
“One of the princess’s drivers is a friend of mine—knows I enjoy women. Younger ones. I mean, what man doesn’t, right? You’ve got this servant girl . . . Name’s Faiza. The driver pointed her out to me.”
“Ahh . . .” The prince beamed at him. “You fancy this servant girl?”
“She’s my type. Real, real young. Looks about thirteen.” He forced the rest out. “My favorite kind of woman.”
“Ah, yes.”
His skin was crawling. “I was wondering . . . Do you think you could talk the princess into letting the girl come . . . work for me? Permanently?” He’d hit the word work extra hard, and he gave the prince a few moments to fill in the degenerate parts for himself. “Heck. I shouldn’t have asked.” Again, he held out his hand for the ring. “Glad you appreciated my ring. I’ll get out of here now and let you enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Wait.” The prince moved a few steps away. “It might be possible . . . But of course, I would have to compensate the princess.”
“Well, sure. You say the word, and I’ll write a check. What do you think the girl is worth? A couple of thousand?”
“Money between friends? No, no. But perhaps, a token of our friendship?”
Sherlock had assumed Coop could simply convince the prince to turn the girl over, but Coop had known better. “By a token, you mean . . . ?”
The prince’s thumb caressed the ring. “Whatever you think the girl is worth to you.”
“You drive a hard bargain, but . . . You got her papers? Passport? I don’t want to lose that ring and then have her skip out on me.”
“But of course. One phone call.” The prince gave him an oily smile and reached for his phone. Coop pretended to stare out the window during the short, barked conversation in Arabic. He and the prince had struck a deal.
/> Coop couldn’t wait to get away, but he wasn’t turning over the ring without the girl, and he knew how to take his time. He finished his drink and sidetracked the prince’s story about a particularly repulsive sex game by recounting a story of his own, this one about last season’s Giants game. Finally, the two of them were on the elevator riding down to the lobby.
One of the royal henchmen stood at the front desk riffling through a stack of passports he’d apparently retrieved from the hotel safe. Since the United States and Canada had a loose border, Coop had tried to convince Piper that a passport wasn’t absolutely necessary, but she’d been her own stubborn self.
“Without a passport, it’ll be nearly impossible for her to apply for legal status,” she’d argued. “She won’t be able to go to school and get health care. They’ve stolen her identity, Coop. The passport represents what little of it she has left. Promise me you’ll at least try.”
He hadn’t promised anything, but the short time he’d spent with the prince had steeled his resolve.
