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Nolan didn’t want to look at it. It would make it too real. The past nine months since his sons had found their perfect matches had been healing and wonderful. He still ached for Anne, but it had been eighteen months since she’d passed and the grief was lessening. His growing family and overwhelming responsibilities kept him busy enough that the pain of her loss usually remained in the back of his mind.
The Rindlesbachers’ threat had been quiet, and with untold hours of hard work, stress, and prayer, his country and family were flourishing. He loved being King Papa to his six-year-old granddaughter Sunny, and now Tristan and Jennifer and Curt and Aliya were expecting little ones in the spring.
Apparently, he shouldn’t have gotten too comfortable.
“This is signed by Prime Minister Carrera and two key members of parliament,” Tristan said. He pushed out a heavy breath. “I miss Henry more every day.” His eyes flicked down at the paper, probably to read the document in its entirety.
Nolan missed Henry every bit as much as Tristan did. After it was discovered in October of last year that Henry’s wife Leslie had inadvertently killed Anne, and Henry and Leslie had been blackmailed, extorted, and manipulated by the Rindlesbachers, Henry had no choice but to step down. In good news, Leslie was recovering from the physical and emotional abuse at the hands of the Rindlesbachers. They traveled often, as not everyone in Augustine had been as forgiving as Nolan had about the queen’s death and Henry’s unwilling aid to the Rindlesbachers.
Nolan didn’t look at the paper. He held Madeline’s gaze and fought for a level tone of voice. “If Prime Minister Carrera and parliament believe I have misused funds, they obviously don’t know me or my level of integrity.”
He was furious at this very personal attack. What was Carrera trying to accomplish? He’d been voted in by the people and was a politician to the core. The man had shown competence, great intellect, and had been fine to work with. Nolan hadn’t sensed corruption in any of Carrera’s decisions for the people of Augustine. Their country was flourishing financially, crime was low, their people appeared happy and opinion polls reflected that, and they had great relations with their neighboring countries and no hint of uprising or war on the horizon.
“I know you,” Madeline said softly and more seriously than she usually spoke. “Which is why I volunteered for this assignment and thankfully was appointed instead of some of your critics in parliament.”
Nolan appreciated her having his back, but it was all a punch to the kidneys from nowhere, as well as a show of disrespect to him. “I appreciate you volunteering, but maybe the critics should have come themselves so they could see that all funds are used properly by me and my family.”
“Maybe they should have,” she said. Why did she look injured by his suggestion? Had she sacrificed to come herself? Would being the ‘emissary’ who investigated the king’s finances be a stain on her career? He couldn’t imagine it would. He was surprised she hadn’t brought an auditor or accountant, but they could resolve this issue easily and she could email the information within the hour. He’d secretly hoped for more time with her when he’d seen the appointment on his calendar this morning, but he was adept at dealing with disappointment, so he said nothing.
Tristan looked back and forth between the two of them. “Why would anyone make such an accusation?”
Madeline shrugged. “The castle garage full of supercars and your closets full of Brioni suits bother some members of parliament.”
“You understand that the August family money is separate from the allowances paid to us by the country of Augustine?” Nolan asked.
She nodded. “You are each paid an allowance based on your responsibilities and level of involvement. The castle staff, maintenance, and utilities are paid by the country.”
“As well as a clothing and vehicle allowance,” Nolan said. “Which I personally have never touched, using instead the stipends paid by my family’s vast holdings in salt and iron mines throughout Europe to buy any vehicles and personal items myself or my family needed.”
“Well, I don’t know if anybodyneedsan eight million dollar Lamborghini,” she threw the quip out with a slight smile on her intriguing pink lips. Were her lips naturally that pink? They’d been stained red when they’d danced at the wedding. Either color on those full lips was captivating.
“That is a matter of opinion, Ms. Prescott,” he tried to tease back. “When you are at my level of driving expertise, a Lamborghini Veneno Roadster is an absolute necessity.”
“Oh, I’m sure. I’ve heard about your ‘driving expertise.’ Or is it a ‘terror ride’?” She smirked, and Tristan chuckled.
“Even the brave and accomplished pilot Major Chad threw up after one of the king’s driving exhibitions,” Tristan said.
“Weak constitution, that charming Major has,” Nolan responded. “I assume you could stomach a drive with me, Ms. Prescott.” He arched a brow; he would love to take her on a drive.
“You may call me Madeline, King Nolan.” She gave him a challenging look, not rising to his silly barb about her beloved and incredible son or his desire to take her out in his Lamborghini and show off a bit.
“Only if you call me Nolan.”
Her eyes widened. As close as Tristan and Chad had been throughout the years, and as often as they saw each other, she’d never dropped the king from his title. Sometimes she said it sarcastically, but it was alwaysKingNolan or King Papa since Sunny had named him that.
“Nolan,” she said softly.
His name from her lips stirred something deep inside him. Something he’d repressed for eighteen months. Except during that magical dance with her and the times he’d shaken her hand, possibly holding on a second longer than he should have. What would she say if he told her heneededto take her to dinner and on a drive and it was imperative he get to know her on a more personal level?
He jolted at the thought, and she thankfully looked away.
“Well …” Tristan looked carefully between the two of them. “Perhaps I should slip into my office and let you two resolve these concerns. I’ll take care of any meetings this afternoon.”
Nolan nodded, hoping he imagined the glint of interest in his oldest son’s eyes. If Tristan, Chad, or any of his children or daughters-in-law got it in their heads that he was infatuated with Madeline Prescott, he’d never hear the end of it. His family and Henry would be thrilled. He wasn’t sure what Chad would think. The stories of Chad protecting his mum from would-be admirers were long and sometimes hilarious.
The real question was … Would Madeline be interested in him in that way? The fact that she hadn’t remarried since her husband disappeared more than twenty years ago showed he’d probably get a firm no if he asked her out.
“That will be fine,” Nolan said. “I’m sure the issue of properly using funds will be resolved within the hour.” Maybe he was being overconfident, but he had nothing to hide. He could send the information he had on and let the accounting or auditing team parliament should hire deal with sorting it out.
