Prince Albert(88)

"He won't kill us," Noah says. "I'm sure he has people to do that for him."

"You're always looking at the bright side of things, Noah," Alex says. "It's probably why you and my brother get along so well."

"At least you'll be dead and not fired," Noah says.

"No one is getting murdered or fired." My voice has a hard edge I can't quite keep out of it. I'm more nervous than I should be right now at the prospect of tracking down Belle. I should be excited. Isn't that how you're supposed to feel when you tell a woman you love her?

Instead, I feel edgy and irritable.

Part of me is afraid she's going to tell me to go to hell.

Or worse, she'll tell me she doesn't feel the same, and that it's been about the sex all along.

"How far is Budapest exactly?" Alex asks. "We should have just taken the helicopter."

"It's one thing to sneak out of a tea party in the helicopter, but another to try to be stealthy about flying to Budapest," I say. "It's only a couple of hours anyway."

"We couldn't get the exact location from the head of security," Max says. "Budapest was as far as they could narrow it down."

"Why don't you call Raine?" Alex asks. "Or are you going for a big dramatic entrance?”

"The girl who bursts into our father's room and announces she's sleeping with her bodyguard is giving me shit about drama?" I ask.

"I was trying to take some of the heat off of you," she protests. “Obviously, it was a miscalculated move on my part.”

“No shit,” Max says.

“If dad didn’t kill Max after you told him you were sleeping with Max, then all of us will be just fine,” I note.

“Thanks,” Max says. “I think.”

“I’m not going to call Raine,” I tell Alex. “Not until we’re actually in Budapest.”

“So Belle can’t run,” Alex says.

So Belle can’t run.

She makes it sound like I’m tracking Belle down like some kind of fugitive.

“She’ll want to see you,” Noah says.

“Totally,” Alex says, her voice unnaturally bright.

I focus my eyes straight ahead on the road. “This conversation isn’t helping at all.”





CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Belle



“Beer,” Raine says, handing me a glass. “It’s medicinal. Spending all night worrying isn’t going to do anything for you. We’ll go back to Protrovia in the morning.”

“Right now, you medicate with food and beer,” Phoenix says. “It’s therapeutic.”

“Fine, fine.” I study my menu, but my head is spinning, my thoughts focused on all of the things I need to say to Albie.

Why the hell didn’t I just tell him I loved him when I was in Protrovia?

Raine’s phone buzzes, and Phoenix groans loudly as Raine looks at the screen. “We said no phones during dinner,” he says, grabbing it from her hand.

“Give that back to me now,” she insists, slapping him playfully on the arm. “It’s important.”

“It’s important?” he asks, holding up the phone, but she snaps it out of his hand. “What do you think, Belle? Raine buys us the next round of beers since she’s on the phone during dinner?”

Raine looks up from the phone long enough to glare at us, before burying her head and furiously texting.

“Yes, definitely,” I say absently, still thinking about what I’m going to say to Albie tomorrow. “The next round of beers is on Raine.”

“I’m going to remember you gave me grief about this,” Raine says.

“Why?” I ask. But I’m immediately distracted by the waitress coming over to take our orders, and then Phoenix orders more beer and he's telling me stories about their adventures over the summer.

I’m finishing my dinner and I’m on my second beer when Raine and Phoenix look up, their eyes focused behind me. I hear the chatter of other diners in the restaurant, people whispering and pointing.

“Belle.”

I’d recognize his voice anywhere.

I stand up and turn around slowly, my heart beating wildly in my chest. “Albie.”

He’s standing there, holding a pink box. A few feet behind him are Alex, Noah, and Max. The bodyguards stand there nonchalantly, but Alex looks like a kid on Christmas morning, her hands clasped together.

Albie steps closer to me and hands me the box.

The box. The one he sent me the first time. I shake it gently, listening to the rattle of the objects inside.

That fucker brought the box of sex toys with him to this restaurant, and just handed it to me in front of everyone.

“Flowers just seemed so boring,” he says. “And you left this behind.”