Page 7 of Some Like It Scandalous
“You can’t stop being a prince, Armand. So why bother?” Richard rolled his sleeves down one at a time and buttoned them at the cuffs. Their billiards game was over.
“What’s your point?” They’d already established that his position had an undesirable effect on Anna.
“My point,Your Highness.”Richard shrugged on his jacket. Disapproval rang in his words—he only used the appellationwhen Armand annoyed him. “You can’t stop being a prince, so why not use it to your advantage?”
Use it to my advantage how? She doesn’tlikethe damn title.He frowned.
Richard pulled his keys out of his pocket. “I’ll call you in the morning. I have some strings to go pull so you can stalk—I meancourt—your lady.”
Armand half-scowled, then waved a hand, still considering his friend’s advice. He left the pool table as it was—someone would be along to straighten it—and walked through the apartment he maintained in the city. It was a recent acquisition, purchased after the family learned about his cousin’s existence. He’d intended to give her the penthouse, but her subsequent marriage to Daniel Voldakov had changed his mind.
Just ten rooms, the penthouse was silent. He maintained a staff but gave them their own apartments downstairs rather than have them live in. Privacy was a rare commodity—rarer still with the increase in security the family endured over recent months thanks to negative publicity in Eastern Europe. Between his cousin Francesca’s sudden interest in military service, Rosemary’s determination to be in every tabloid and his brother George’s behavior, it was a wonder he’d managed the last few months in Los Angeles at all.
In the kitchen, he opened the refrigerator and stared at the labeled containers. The housekeeper hated it when he rummaged, but she wasn’t here to stop him so he claimed a random Tupperware container and carried it out to the sunken living room. The city lights gleamed in the darkness beyond the windows of the tower. Stabbing a fork into a piece of shrimp, he ate without tasting the rich sauce he normally favored.
He couldn’t get Anna out of his mind.
“Exactly how doesthis help me study for my final again?” She sprawled across his chest, her hair clinging to his damp skin.
“Stress reliever.” He grinned, trailing his fingers up and down her spine. He loved her like this, boneless and loose from sex. “The release of endorphins will help us retain what we’re reading.”
Laughter shook her and she lifted her head, a lazy smile curving her lips. “You are so full of it, Charlie. You just wanted to get laid.”
“Do you feel better?” He traced the curve of her shoulder and the soft line of her throat. She had the most beautiful neck, long and graceful.
“Hmm.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his gentle caress. “I definitely don’t have a headache anymore.”
“Which will contribute to your ability to study.” He might not get any more done, content to simply lie here and touch her.
“True.” Eyes half-open like a cat about to purr, Anna stretched. The delicious friction of her sweat-slicked body on his roused him all over again. The doorbell rang and his contented kitten popped up. “Food!”
Armand groaned, but Anna already bounced to her feet and grabbed his shirt from the clothes they’d stripped off earlier. Fortunately, with his height, the shirt struck her at midthigh.
The doorbell rang again and she vanished down the hall. Sitting, he fumbled for his abandoned jeans and dragged them on.
“Charlie?”
“Anna…?” The strained note in her voice urged him to action. His security knew not to flirt with her, though they still did it occasionally to give him a hard time.
Halfway up the hallway, the quiet murmur of multiple male voices penetrated the pleasured haze and he frowned. He halted at the entrance to the living room—across the narrowspace he and Anna called home. Three things struck him at once.
The man in the doorway was Gerard Danielson, the head of his father’s private security force. He was framed on either side by two others—Michel Jerome, the family’s legal representative in the United States and Peterson, the senior member of Armand’s personal security. They were inhisdoorway. All three men stiffened as he appeared, then bowed.
His heart sank. They’d bowed to him in front of Anna.
“Your Highness,” Gerard began without preamble. “Please forgive the lateness of the hour, but this news had to be delivered in person. His Imperial Highness, Grand Duke Phillipe, passed away late yesterday afternoon…”
His father. Dead.
Time stopped.
His university life was over.
“…all announcements were delayed until you could be informed…”
Anna turned a bewildered look in his direction. His world shredded.
“…the plane has been fueled and we have made all security arrangements to bring you home…”
