Page 8 of Forbidden Bastard
Antonio nodded to his guards who then surrounded them while he said, “You play many games Charles, but so long as you keep your word, I'll keep mine.”
“Then I won’t interfere with our father or your future crown. We have a deal.” Charles offered to shake hands.
He hadn’t expected Antonio to do it again now that the prince had what he wanted, but his half-brother surprised him and they shook firmly. He said, “Done.”
Charles hadn't kept close male friends because they'd turned too competitive. Secrets sometimes weren’t interesting.
Even if people found out about Clara, his only weakness as she was family, or his love of sweets, so what? The world wouldn't end because an orphan had found a woman to be the mother he never actually had.
And because his story wasn’t interesting, and love didn’t exist, he’d be fine.
He headed to his apartment in Paris thankful he’d not have that mantle of responsibility while his half-brother probably attended a summit. Charles was confident that once again, nothing really mattered. Nothing ever did.
Chapter 3
Sandi's hotel near the river Seine was a former estate close to the palace. Inside, the walls had been painted white to accentuate a huge crystal chandelier in the center foyer.
Located in the Parisian version of Chinatown, it wasn’t anything as dazzling as this hotel where the fundraiser was being held. She stepped inside the glass doors that a bellman held for her.
No one had to know she’d taken the Metro and walked in her heels to save a few bucks.
Sandi summoned memories of her wealthy childhood in Denver to keep her head up as she entered the lobby to wait for the women.
Once the limo arrived, Sandi ushered the five ladies she'd chosen for Charles to meet out of the vehicle she’d rented for them and smoothed her knee-length black cocktail dress over her hip. Black tights and black heels completed her ensemble; tonight she was ready to show all of Paris that she cleaned up well.
She'd told herself this had nothing to do with Charles.
Absolutely not.
As they entered the hotel, she scanned the bar area the event was being held in--was that a pang of disappointment when she thought he wasn’t there?
Maybe the charity thing had been to get her out of his office.
But then she saw Charles in a black tuxedo that clung to all the right muscles and her body lit up like a Christmas tree.
Not going to happen. She stepped out of his line of sight, turned back toward the five women and checked them in.
The hostess crossed her name off the list, handed them all raffle tickets, and pointed toward the open bar.
The pretty woman from Charles’s office stood beside her. Evagaline Valliere.
Sandi flipped her long curly red hair, styled to a shine. “Evagaline, thank you for arranging the limo to get everyone here. It's good to meet you, now that I’m a normal-looking person again.”
The physically perfect thin brunette nodded and took her hands like they were old friends as she said, “Thank you for inviting me. I had no idea Mr. Esposito was in need of a wife, though the laws of Avce are well-known. I’m well-versed in ensuring he has whatever he needs at work, including limos.”
The laws. Sandi had done a quick search on Charles Esposito the night she’d met him in person. The facts she'd discovered were why she'd gone to a salon to ensure her makeup was on properly.
Sure, she could have put eyeliner on herself, but a professional was best after her last encounter with him, where she'd worn whiskers. She checked her hair was straight and not frizzing behind her as she said, “Maybe he just needs to see you out of the office to realize that you’re perfect for him.”
Evagaline glanced around the room like she was assessing her competition. “I’m glad to be here, but I don’t understand one thing.”
She'd made the rules clear. Everyone would take a few moments and welcome Charles. And each lady would respect that he had two minutes with every woman with no one interrupting them. Sandi crossed her arms, ready to re-explain. “What’s that?”
Evagaline stared at her with big eyes, like a famous French actress from years ago. “Why don’t you want to marry him? I thought your parents procured a deal where you were to be his bride. He’s handsome, rich, and would provide you with an easy life.”
Sandi’s face felt hot. She was probably the only woman in the world who didn’t want to marry a rich titled lord.
Or maybe she wasn’t. There were always stories where love mattered far more than cash.
