Kelly Hunter - Royals - His Hidden Secret - Revealed - A Prince and A Pregnancy / Date with a Surgeon Prince / The Secret King

He shot her a glance, still glittering but this time tinged with amusement. He slowed down a fraction.

‘I got a letter today,’ he said.

Letters were good. Of course…it all depended what was in them. She eyeballed him cautiously.

‘It was from someone calling himself Etienne de Morsay. Apparently, he’s the head of some remote kingdom on the edge of the Pyrenees. Do you know of him?’

‘Yes.’ It was a startling enough statement and question to get her attention and chase pesky things like unwanted desire for dark angels bearing grudges into the shadows for a time. ‘He was one of my father’s school friends. We used to stay at his estate whenever my father took us to Spain. He was always very nice to Luc and me.’

Simone frowned, remembering the tightness in Luc’s expression upon seeing Etienne de Morsay at the Hammerschmidt auction. ‘He was also the one who bid against Luc for the Hammerschmidt vineyard. The one who pushed the price through the roof. What did he want?’

‘He wants me to work for him for three months and oversee the restoration of a vineyard on his estate. He’s done his homework. He knows a lot about what I’ve done here. I’m trying to figure out how he even knows about me.’

‘Not from me.’ Simone shook her head. ‘I haven’t had any real contact with Etienne in years. He came to Daddy’s funeral. He attended the Hammerschmidt auction. Luc spoke with him afterwards.’ From a distance they’d looked like jaguar and lion at war over the same prey. Gabrielle had been with them for a time, remembered Simone, but she’d cut out fast. ‘Maybe Luc mentioned you. Or maybe my father did, years ago. I don’t know how you turned up on his radar. What I do know is that this isn’t a small commission. It’s a very prestigious one with significant nonmonetary benefits attached. Etienne de Morsay is a very influential man. Restore his vineyard to glory and your reputation throughout Europe as a premiere vigneron will be assured.’

Rafael drummed his fingers on the steering wheel at her words. He said nothing for a while, just concentrated on the road ahead, and then finally he spoke again. ‘De Morsay says he’s in Sydney. He wants a meeting. And he wants to see the vineyard.’

‘It’s up to you, of course,’ she said delicately, not quite sure whether Rafael was asking for her advice or making a statement. ‘But I would be inclined to arrange that meeting.’

‘I will.’ Rafael slid her a sideways glance. ‘What’s it like, this little kingdom of his on the edge of the mountains?’

‘Maracey?’ said Simone. ‘It’s very rugged. A little bit wild.’

‘What’s its main industry? Its main source of income?’

‘Not grapes,’ said Simone. ‘Brokerage, I think. Maracey territory is neutral ground. A lot of unofficial politicking takes place there. Daddy once said that without de Morsay diplomacy, mainstream Europe would have given up on Spain decades ago.’

They’d made it back to the cellar door car park. Rafe slid his truck into place beside the hired Audi.

‘Thank you for the tour,’ she said politely.

‘Thank you for the information.’

They were being civil. He was not looking at her as if he wanted to bed her, strangle her or both. Clearly, it was time to leave.

‘So…I’ll see you at the wedding,’ she said as she got out of his truck and prepared to shut the door.

‘Looking forward to it,’ he said.

Liar. She didn’t say it aloud. Apparently she didn’t have to. The look Rafe sent her acknowledged how hard he was going to find playing groomsman to her bridesmaid.

‘Play your part, Simone, and I’ll play mine,’ he muttered. ‘That’s all I’m asking.’

‘Of course,’ she said with a bright smile that masked every last one of her tumultuous feelings towards this man, not the least being anger at his assumption that she needed to be told how to behave. ‘I’m all for a wedding-day truce. On one condition.’

His vivid blue gaze hardened. ‘I don’t do conditions.’

He’d do this one. Simone smiled again. ‘I’ll keep my peace with you during this wedding ceremony and reception, Rafael. I’ll do it willingly, and not for you. But afterwards…don’t expect my patience with your boorish behaviour to continue.’

He smiled tightly. ‘You’re not bored.’

She could be gentle with him, just this once. ‘Neither are you. Why is that, do you think?’

‘Shut the door, Simone.’

‘In a minute.’ There was something else he needed to know. Something he would already know, damn him, if only he’d let himself remember the past. ‘Gabrielle and Luc are wonderful together, Rafe. I want their wedding day to be perfect. I want their marriage to be a success. The demands of the Duvalier empire can be harsh and unforgiving but Luc and I are aware of that. We’ll see to it that those demands don’t crash down on Gabrielle all at once. We’ll take good care of her. On my life and Luc’s, we’ll protect her as you have.’

He nodded and looked away, his jaw set. ‘I know you will.’

She stepped back and slammed the passenger door shut. She didn’t bother raising her hand as he drove away.

He didn’t look back.

GABRIELLE’S dinner fork clattered to her plate, lightly steamed carrot and snow pea still attached, as she stared at Rafael as if he’d grown horns and a tail.

‘Etienne de Morsay’s coming here?’ she said on a rising note of panic.

‘Yes.Tomorrow.’ Rafe studied his sister curiously from the opposite side of the dining table. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘Yes,’ she said tightly. ‘What does he want?’

‘He wants to look around the vineyard, and then he wants to discuss a vineyard restoration project he’d like me to oversee.’

‘Rafe, please…’ Gabrielle looked almost frightened. ‘You don’t want to work for this man. Cancel the meeting. Tell him he can’t come. Tell him you’ve too many wedding preparations to attend to!’

‘Everything’s done. Besides, apparently he’s a king. Can you cancel an audience with a king?’

‘You can do any damn thing you want,’ said Gabrielle fiercely. ‘You owe him nothing .’

‘Except an explanation,’ said Rafael dryly. ‘I’d like one too. What’s going on, Gabrielle? What do you have against me conducting business with this man?’

‘Nothing,’ she said quickly, as if only just realising how much her reaction would intrigue him. ‘Nothing, except that I’ve met the man, I don’t like him and I don’t think we should have anything to do with him.’ Gabrielle’s mouth set into a stubborn line. ‘He’s not an honest man.’

‘How so?’

‘Rafe, please!’ Gabrielle picked up her fork and Rafe watched in silence as her hand shook so badly that she had to put the fork back down. Bowing her head, she hid her trembling hand from his view. ‘I don’t want to go into it. Just…tell him not to come. It’s not a good time. The wedding’s in three days, Luc won’t be here for another two, and I just can’t cope with the thought of Etienne de Morsay right now. I can’t.’ Ashen-faced, she stared at him. ‘Please!’

‘All right. I’ll put him off until after the wedding. But then you’re going to tell me what this is all about.’

Gabrielle looked away, but not before Rafael had seen in her eyes a mixture of unbearable pain, stark fear, and defiance. Rafe knew that look. He’d seen it throughout their miserable childhood, in his own eyes, as well as in Gabrielle’s. He never thought he’d see it here. ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ he said in the dialect of their youth, in the language of Caverness and all that went with it. ‘Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.’