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“We’ll still see each other around, sweetheart. This is a good thing for you, Kitty, trust me on this.”
Then, Nellie scurries off to finish her work as I mull over this sudden change. I guess it won’t be so bad cleaning the royal private quarters, especially if there’s more money involved. A pay raise will make it a lot easier to save up for school, and who knows? I might even get a chance to get a closer look at Prince Eric. At the thought of the handsome prince, my heart leaps, but I force myself to stay calm. After all, Eric is dashing, handsome, incredibly rich, and most of all,royal. I’ll never be a match for him … unless something utterly crazy happens.
CHAPTER2
Eric
“Can I get you anything, Your Majesty?” a slender man wearing a suit and bowtie asks as he bows. I know he’s only showing respect, but sometimes I wish I could just be treated like a regular person.
“Just a cognac -- neat,” I say.
“Right away, Your Majesty,” the waiter says as he scurries off. “Coming right up.”
With a nod, I stroll over to the balcony of Club Luxe and lean over the railing, glancing down at the crowd below. Beneath the night sky, strobe lights flash, illuminating the crowd as their bodies gyrate to the blaring music. Laughter trickles to my ears, interlaced with conversations, chitchat, and the melodious giggles of women. I sigh again.
Usually, the spectacle of Chromian night life excites me with its glitz and glamour. It even attracts a slew of celebrities who use it as their playground because the rich and famous come from all around the world, lured in to our small European country by the bright, glimmering lights of our casinos, not to mention the Formula One Grand Prix we host every year. Chromia is a place many people fall in love with, but sometimes, I wish I could escape.
A group of women see me from below, and they begin to scream and jump, waving their arms while shouting my name. Shit, I’ve been seen. I slink back into the VIP lounge, my shoulders drooping. It sounds like every man’s fantasy to have beautiful women from all around the world lusting after you, but it’s a dream I’m ready to wake up from already because let’s be real: these women only want my crown and the wealth attached to it. They couldn’t care less about whoIreally am.
“Your cognac, Your Majesty,” the server says as he hands me my drink with another bow.
“Thank you,” I say as I slip him a hefty tip. His eyes grow wide with shock.
“Oh Your Majesty, it’s too much!” he exclaims as he stares at the coin in hand.
“Don’t mention it,” I say in a wry tone. “They need to pay you more around here.” He nods, and scurries away, leaving me to my peace. With another sigh, I sip my cognac as I look down at the crowd from the darkened interior of the club. From down there, it probably looks like I’m the king of the world with my spacious chambers, flashy lifestyle, and fancy cars. Yet they have no idea the weight that comes with the crown.
“Prince Eric,” a soft voice says from behind me. I recognize it far too well. Shit, I was hoping I wasn’t going to run intohertonight. The woman places a small hand on my shoulder as she steps beside me.
“Miranda,” I greet while taking another sip of my cognac. “Funny you should be here.”
The blonde looks at me with innocent blue eyes.
“Is it funny? I’m a member at Club Luxe. I haven’t seenyouaround in a while,” she says, leaning in closer to me. The truth is, I’ve been avoiding Miranda because the woman just can’t seem to take no for an answer. The tight silver dress she’s wearing hugs her skinny frame, and the slit down the center of it exposes a flat chest. She’s the heiress to the largest luxury hotel franchise in the world, and she’s treated like royalty everywhere she goes. Honestly, Miranda could have any man she wants in the world, but her body only craves one – me.
“I’ve been busy,” I say in a polite but distant tone, hoping to end the conversation.
“Too busy for me?” she asks as she gently caresses my arm. Oh god, no. Miranda’s hot for me, and I can literally feel the sexual heat seeping from her body. She aches for my touch, wishing I would take charge and ravish her, as I’ve done in the past. But the thing is that she doesn’t turn me on anymore. It’s something about her little-girl attitude and spoiled temperament. As a result, I’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m done, but the woman is used to getting everything she wants, and what she wants is Prince Eric served up on a platter.
“My duties as the Prince come first. You know that,” I say in a tight voice while finishing my cognac.
“I know,” Miranda whines as she bats her eyelashes. “But I miss you, Eric. Really, truly.” I swallow my snort because I don’t miss her at all; in fact, I haven’t even thought about Miranda until now. We were never exclusive, and I’d never brought her to any formal functions. She was merely a playmate in my bedroom for a time. But a girl can fantasize, right? Nonetheless, I need to be blunt.
“Miranda, I’ve already told you – it’s over between us,” I say firmly.
“You don’t mean that,” she pouts as she leans in to kiss me. Her breath smells like vodka, and I’m completely repulsed. I push the scrawny woman away from me, trying my best not to make a scene because the last thing I need is to be on the front page of a magazine with an article that goes on and on about how I take advantage of women as the “Playboy Prince.” Ha. Well, I guess I deserve that. After many years as a love ‘em and leave ‘em type, I suppose the moniker is on point. I’ve just changed, that’s all. I no longer bed women just for fun, and I’m not exactly clueless either. The women are getting younger and younger … while I’m not. I don’t want to be some gross old guy with a fifteen-year-old starlet on his elbow.
The truth is, I long for intimacy. Having a woman in my life who loves me for the real me, not just for my title, is all I’veeverwanted, but finding that woman seems damn near impossible. I’ve been all around the world, and I still haven’t met a woman who wasn’t after the wealth of Chromia. It feels like love is out of my grasp – it’s something I’ll never be able to obtain.
At that moment, Miranda stumbles backward, spilling vodka on her dress. I swear, I didn’t push her, but the smile she was wearing quickly fades away. Fury forms in her eyes, and her forehead indents as she prepares to launch raging words at me. This isn’t going to be good. The petite blonde may look sweet, but she has the worst temper I’ve ever seen. She’s been in the tabloids as well, and they call her the hot-headed hothouse flower for a reason.
“Are you fucking serious?” she shrieks. Here it comes. Everyone around us stares as she puts on an award-winning performance. “My father owns half of the hotels in Chromia, and we’re one of the wealthiest families in the world. We’re not over untilIsay we’re over. You got that, pretty boy?”
I would sympathize with Miranda if she actually cared for me, but I know it’s all a ploy. This woman isn’t heartbroken; she’s just upset she’s not getting her way. When that happens, Miranda behaves like a child and even throws tantrums like one. She thinks she can control me like she does everyone else, but think again, sweetheart. This isn’t going to end well.
Instead, I merely turn away, showing off my strong profile. Then I brush past the blonde woman without another word. She turns around quickly, her face beet red.
“Don’t you walk away from me, Eric!” she screams, this time attracting the eyes of the party-goers below. “Come back here!”
