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“Well, I don’t know if anybody needs an 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 always King Nolan 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 he needed to 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.
Madeline’s delicate brows lifted. He had the feeling he was missing a piece to this puzzle.
Tristan pushed the paper on the desk toward him. “Dad, the financial issue looks to be only the beginning.”
Nolan looked down at the paper he’d ignored, glancing over the fluffy political jargon, the financial concerns, and his eyes stopped on a hated name. He read the laughable suggestions, but he was far from laughing.
“They believe,” he said slowly, but still with too much bite, “I would have anything to do with Naomi Rindlesbacher? That I’m aiding her, secretly dating her, and planning to make that appalling woman queen?”
Ridiculous wasn’t a strong enough word. Outrageous, bizarre, insane, nauseating …
Madeline nodded tightly. Did she think he’d ever associate with that vile monster? Naomi and William had caused Anne’s death and more misery and tragedy than any one couple should’ve been able to produce.
He’d wondered when she’d strike again. Had Parliament organized this attack, or was Naomi behind it?
Nolan met Tristan’s gaze. His son folded his arms across his chest. “It’s completely ludicrous, Pops. I’m sure that’s why Madeline has agreed to shadow you until the concerns are resolved, because she knows how outlandish the mere suggestion is and wants you to have an ally.”
He looked at Madeline. Her green eyes were shuttered. Was she his ally? Could she know he was intrigued by her and attracted to her, despite how he’d fought it, and she would use that against him? He couldn’t think like that. This was Madeline, Chad’s mum, a loyal Augustinian and a smart, classy, and generous lady. She wouldn’t trick him. Right?
“You’ve agreed to shadow me?”
“I did.”
“For how long?”
“As long as it takes for parliament and Prime Minister Carrera to believe the corruption of the Rindlesbachers and Prime Minister Shule did not reach our highest royal. That you have absolutely no association with and are not harboring Naomi Rindlesbacher.”
Thankfully, she didn’t add with plans to make Naomi the queen. Bile crawled up his throat at the mere suggestion. As a lifelong Christian, he knew he shouldn’t hate, but he loathed Naomi. She was so despicable, the thought of being in the same room as her made him sick.
“You understand how bizarre these allegations even are. My family has been the constant target of the power-hungry Rindlesbachers, and Henry and Leslie were manipulated and threatened by them. There is no corruption in the royal family.” He stood. “I was willing to show you my personal financial information, which, to be frank, is none of anybody’s business, but to be watched like I’m a criminal when I’ve done absolutely nothing untoward is unacceptable.” He wouldn’t mind her being close to him, but only if she wanted to be.
