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CHAPTER ONE
THECLUBDIDN’Thave a name. It didn’t need one. Just as the three men lounging on the metal catwalk up above the dance floor didn’t need any introductions.
Solace Ashworth knew who they were.
Kings.
They’d once been the three Wicked Princes—or so the media had dubbed them back when they’d been at Oxford university—causing mayhem wherever they went. Now they’d ascended their thrones they were wicked no longer.
Or at least one of them wasn’t.
They were all tall and broad-shouldered—clearly, they fed baby kings much better than they did poor nobodies—two of them with short black hair, the third a dark, rich tawny that gleamed gold in the pulsing dance-floor lights.
The tawny-haired man was King Augustine Solari of Isavere, a mountain kingdom between Spain and Italy, and still very, very wicked, or so the gossip columns said.
One of the black-haired men was Sheikh Khalil ibn al-Nazari of Al Da’Ira, an ancient desert kingdom on the Red Sea near Saudi Arabia. He was apparently less wicked than Augustine, though his reputation for ruthlessness was second to none.
It was the third man, though, who held Solace’s attention.
He was leaning on the metal rail that bounded the catwalk, long fingers curled around it, staring down at the heaving dance floor beneath him with a single-minded focus that made Solace catch her breath.
King Galen Kouros of Kalithera, a small, picturesque country on the Adriatic coast. Where they were now.
The nameless club was in Therisos, the nation’s capital, and a secret venue only open to royalty and their guests. Solace still couldn’t believe they’d let her in, but the password she’d paid a lot of money for had worked, and in the silver couture dress she’d also paid a lot of money for she looked as though she belonged here.
Just as well. Because right now, desperate times called for desperate measures and the plan she was about to put in motion was surely as desperate as they came.
A plan that involved the man on the catwalk.
There were many beautiful people in the club tonight, but he was the most beautiful.
Tall and broad, with wide shoulders and lean hips, his was the classic, perfect male form, shown off to perfection by the plain black shirt and black suit trousers he wore. Simple clothes designed to highlight the beauty of the man.
His coal-black hair was worn short, revealing the perfect bone structure of his face: high cheekbones, straight nose, the most beautifully carved mouth.
Solace swallowed. She remembered—
No. She couldn’t allow herself to get distracted by memories or by his beauty.
She was here for one reason and one reason only: seduce him, then blackmail him.
Her plan was mad, of course, and very wrong, but she’d been left with no choice. She’d tried contacting the Kalitheran embassy, first via email then by phone, relating her story to them and then requesting help. But they hadn’t believed her. Even a personal visit to demand she see someone in authority had involved her being escorted from the premises as a nuisance. She’d briefly considered whether she could get a lawyer to help, but she didn’t have the money and she’d heard enough about lawyers not to trust them anyway.
No, all she’d had was herself and this plan of hers.
Getting herself from London to Therisos had been the easy part. Even getting into this very exclusive, nameless nightclub hadn’t been the hardest part.
No, the hardest part was going to be getting his attention.
The people on the dance floor were doing a very good impression of acting as if they didn’t know who the three men standing above them were, though Solace noticed many sending occasional glances upwards.
Oh, yes, they knew, but the whole point of the club was discretion. Here royalty could relax and be human without fear of media reprisal, even if it was just for a night.
Up on the catwalk, King Augustine, who was standing on one side of Galen, clapped him on the shoulder and said something that made him shake his head. On the other side of Galen was Sheikh Khalil, who stood with his powerful arms folded, his attention also on the dance floor. He’d clearly said something amusing since Augustine laughed and a brief, flickering smile lit Galen’s sternly beautiful face.
Solace’s heart twisted. She remembered that smile. He’d given it to her once, though she hadn’t known who he was at the time. She’d been dazzled by its warmth. No one had ever smiled at her that way either before or since.
You’re getting distracted again. Focus.
