Their Virgin Princess (Masters of Ménage #4)(39)

"But there were potentially a whole bunch of men who came to that shelter with a reason to hate you," Lan argued.

She shrugged slightly. "I guess that's one way to look at it. But, guys, I dealt almost exclusively with very poor people. Didn't I read something about the person behind my abduction paying for my upkeep? Like five grand every ten days? By the way, that was not five grand worth of upkeep. The accommodations sucked ass, as they would have said back in New York."

He was actually taking her sarcasm as a positive sign. "She's got a point, Dane. I don't think it was a person she encountered during her charity work. Seriously, if it had been one of those douchebags, he would have either fucked her himself to show Alea that he was all big and bad, or he'd have made sure she was 'learning her place.'"

"Nice way to put it," Alea said.

He held his hands up. "Baby, I'm just telling you the way that kind of man would think."

Alea's eyes narrowed on him, and it was all he could do not to shrink back. She had a damn fine evil eye. "Not you, too."

It was his turn to shrug. He wouldn't take it back. "Yeah, you're my baby. Deal with it."

Her gorgeous eyes rolled. "I have a name, you know."

"I'm going to call you darlin'," Lan offered.

"That's not better," Alea said, shaking her head. 

"Okay, how about snuggle bear?" Lan returned. "Or puddin'? That's another real popular choice down South."

Alea sighed. "Darlin' it is, then."

Lan just smiled.

Score one for the guys. It was good to know she could be cornered. Why hadn't they tried this tactic earlier? Now that they had her alone and were establishing rules, everything seemed so much simpler. It was as if her stress level had plummeted, and she seemed more willing to compromise. Maybe being away from her cousins and the pomp of the palace would be a good thing.

"Could we sort out the endearments later?" Dane asked, obviously annoyed. "Just to be sure, I want you to write down the names of every man you came in contact with at that shelter. I want Anthony Anders to check them all out."

Alea groaned. "Dane, I didn't catch most of their names. I tended to call them things like 'Overly Hairy Guy' and 'Dude Who Needs Deodorant.' I had a very fluid role there. I doubt that most of those men knew my name, either. It wasn't like I wore a nametag or distributed my bio. I'm not trying to be difficult. I'm just telling you all the reasons I'm pretty sure this is a dead end."

The curtain to the back of the cabin opened, and a heavenly smell wafted through. Coop's stomach rumbled. The rich really did know how to travel.

The hostess walked out with a smile on her face, like she was genuinely happy to be serving them. "May I serve the first course of lunch now? It's a lovely French onion soup, which will be followed with an herb salad with goat cheese croustades. The main course, a beef burgundy, should pair perfectly with the wine from the captain."

"Please," Alea said, sitting up. "It smells wonderful. I hope you try it yourself."

The hostess inclined her head in a show of deference. Staff tended to love Alea. "I would be thrilled to try it, Your Highness. You're so kind. If you would gather around the table, I will serve."

Dane frowned and closed the folder. "We're going to get back to this. I'm not going to stop until we know who did this to you."

"I'm sure you won't," Alea conceded. "But it can wait until after lunch. Poor Landon is practically fainting."

Lan did look a little piqued. He stood up. "There was no meat with breakfast. It was all bread and stuff. I'm a carnivore."

The hostess returned and set glasses before them, each filled with a deep, ruby red wine. "The pilot says that this vintage comes from the region of France in which he was born. Enjoy."

Cooper took a long sip of the wine. It was rich and tasted just slightly sweet, with a hint of tartness. Like Alea. But he wasn't much of a wine drinker. Give him a good beer any day. But so far, the flight attendant hadn't given them water or anything else to drink. So he took another sip.

They sat down around the table, getting ready to partake of their first full meal as a family-whether Alea wanted to acknowledge that fact or not. They drank and talked, the minutes speeding by.

The first course was served, and Cooper felt his every muscle relax. He laughed at something Dane said, but suddenly sounds were strangely far away. So was everyone in his field of vision. Even his muscles felt heavy. In fact, he couldn't quite lift the spoon.

Alea looked so happy, relaxed. And he felt so … weird.

He tried to push the glass away because something was so wrong, but his hands wouldn't work. They kind of flopped around like fish out of water.