Page 2 of Incognito

“Well, don’t let him boss you around, okay?” Ella waggled a finger. “You’re only filling in for Harvey, so you don’t have to take anyone’s crap, uptight prince or not.”

Natasha appreciated her friend’s loyalty. “The prince is important for business and I’ll treat him like I treat the rest of our customers. With respect, care, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, save the spiel for someone who hasn’t heard it a million times before.” Ella held up her hand, though her fond grin underlined the lack of malice in her words. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a gardening column to write and a few more botanical drawings to do before lunch.”

“Coffee at Trevi’s, usual time?”

By then, Natasha would be in dire need of a caffeine hit and a debrief with her bestie.

“Sounds great. See you at five.”

With a cheeky wave Ella sauntered away, a slim, tall figure in head to toe denim, her short, shaggy, auburn bob swinging in sync with her steps.

Her stunning best friend turned heads wherever she went, enjoyed life, and had energy to burn. In comparison, Natasha felt like a worn washcloth wrung dry. Stress did that to a person, the type of stress that dogged every waking moment, and unfortunately, most of her sleeping ones too. Little wonder she looked so pale next to her vibrant friend.

Glancing at her gold and silver link watch, the one her dad had given her for her twenty-first birthday—years before money became a problem for them—she wondered why the prince waslate. Most of the VIPs she usually dealt with had their itineraries scheduled to the last second and she assumed royalty would be more pedantic than most. Especially a prince who looked like he couldn’t smile if that tiny photo online had been any indication.

A gleaming black motorbike roared to a stop outside the front door and Natasha nibbled on her bottom lip, hoping Alan the doorman would get the noisy thing valet parked ASAP. First impressions counted and she desperately needed to make this one count with the prince.

After another nervous glance at her watch and more subtle rearranging of the tourist brochures stacked on the concierge desk, she glanced up in time to see the motorbike’s rider stride through the glass doors.

Hell.

The guy looked like a walking advertisement for Bad Boys Inc. Tall, over six foot, with broad shoulders hugged in soft, grey cotton, long lean legs encased in faded denim, black wavy hair mussed by a helmet and a gusty southerly Melbourne wind, and bone structure that could’ve been chiselled by one of the Italian masters.

Natasha took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to refocus. So the guy looked like every woman’s fantasy come to life? Since when did she have time to ogle guys, let alone lose concentration on the job? Especially at a time like this.

Mentally slapping herself for letting her long dormant hormones get the better of her in that one, glorious moment when he strode into the foyer, she exhaled and opened her eyes, ready to march outside and haul the prince into her hotel the moment his limo pulled up.

But before she could move, the bad boy made a beeline for the concierge desk.

“I need your help,” he said, his deep voice with a hint of gravel as sexy as the rest of him.

Intent on assisting him quickly so she could focus on the prince’s impending arrival, she smoothed her cuff over her watch and fixed her professional welcoming smile in place. However, her smile froze when she looked up and locked gazes with the bad boy.

Clear blue eyes. Almost aquamarine, the mesmerising colour of the Great Barrier Reef on a sunny day. A colour imprinted on her memory, considering it had been a stand out feature of the prince’s fuzzy picture online.

“Miss Telford, is it?”

The bad boy glanced at her name tag before returning his gaze to her face. A face flushed with heat at the realisation that she must be losing the plot if she thought for one second that this scruffy, wind-tossed guy could be the Prince of Calida.

She really needed a day off to unwind.

“Yes, that’s right. What can I do for you?”

Apart from bustle him out of here and get ready for the most important meeting of her life.

“Plenty, hopefully.” He rested his forearms on the desk and she tried not to stare at the way his biceps bunched.

Maybe she needed to change her non-dating policy. It had been eighteen months since the Clayton disaster and she hadn’t been out with a guy since, preferring to concentrate on fixing the mess Clay had lumbered her family with.

Resisting the urge to take a peek over the bad boy’s shoulder towards the door in case the prince snuck in without her seeing, she said, “Do you have a reservation, Sir? If not, perhaps I can arrange it with someone at check-in and we can discuss your needs later?”

“No, I need this sorted now and you’re just the woman I want.”

His deep voice sent an unexpected shiver down her spine and her smile faltered as he fixed her with a penetrating stare.

Those eyes… that colour… no way…

---