Prince: Royal Romantic Suspense (Billionaires in Disguise: Maxence Book 5) by Blair Babylon (best ereader for comics .TXT) 📗

“Treacherous,” she laughed.

He extended his hand across the desk to shake. “Ah, nothing’s changed, then.”

She dodged around the desk and barreled into his arms. Max hugged her quickly as she rocked back and forth. “You old rogue, you. You didn’t come to Uncle Rainier’s funeral. Or Pierre’s.”

Her hand trailed down his back and traveled just below where his belt encircled his waist.

Above Marie-Therese’s head, Max saw Dree Clark blinking in confusion and holding her stylus above the tablet as she sat perched on the edge of her chair.

Max untangled himself from his cousin. “I sat beside his bed nearly every day for a month. I said my goodbyes in person, and Monaco is, as you noted, treacherous.”

“People talked,” Marie-Therese said, shaking her glossy black curls and blinking her dark eyes at him. Like Max, she took after the Grimaldi side of the family, which was Italian by name and predominantly French by genetics. Like most royal families, they were descended from European blue bloods, not their subjects’ bloodlines. Their grandmother was American and blond, of course, but their great-great-grandmother was Mexican.

He said, “I’m sure they talked. I’m sure most people had nothing better to do than to talk. But now I’m here and settling Monaco for the next century.”

He looked behind her to where his great-uncle had stepped up and extended his hand. “Uncle Louis, so good to see you again.”

The slim, white-haired man smiled primly and shook Max’s hand. His forehead bulged above his eyes as if it had been designed to hold a crown. “Maxence, I’m glad to see you in more pleasant circumstances.”

Louis had also stood hospital vigil over Max’s uncle, Prince Rainier IV. When Max had arrived in the early afternoon, Louis had been sitting and reminiscing with his unconscious cousin for a few hours in the mornings, giving Max a few moments to chat with him before Louis left for lunch and business. They’d become closer over that hellish month, discussing amiably the future of Monaco and the transfer of power to Pierre, which hadn’t come to pass. “Definitely, Uncle Louis.”

Maxence unbuttoned his suit jacket as they sat. To Dree, he said, “Attending at this meeting are Prince Louis Grimaldi, younger brother of Prince Rainier the Third and my great-uncle, and Lady Marie-Therese Grimaldi, the only child of Prince Jules Grimaldi and thus my cousin.”

Dree scribbled industriously.

Maxence said to her, “Take notes.”

Dree’s blue eyes swiveled sideways to glance at the woman and older man who had their backs partially turned toward her, and she looked back at Maxence. She lifted her crossed leg and set her high heel on the floor, her knees apart, and then crossed them the other way, giving him a neat glimpse of the bare, pink skin between her legs.

Splendid. This was going to be the most interesting meeting he’d attended since he’d returned.

Maxence turned back to Marie-Therese and Uncle Louis, who were waiting for him to finish with the inconsequential admin.

Marie-Therese glanced at the leatherbound volumes lining the high bookcase shelves and the rococo crown moulding lining the ceiling’s seams far above. “Looks like you’ve moved in.”

Maxence shrugged. “Someone had to take on the day-to-day decisions and sign documents from the ministries during the interim, lest the government grind to a halt. Since I’m next in the theoretical order of precedence and I have an apartment in the palace, I’ve kept the government running.”

Marie-Therese grinned at him. “I’m just surprised you’ve taken on the role, Deacon Father.”

The papercut sarcasm in her comment wasn’t lost on him. “I organized my charity a decade ago and employ hundreds of people. We liaise heavily with the Catholic Church, an enormous organization with just under a million members of the consecrated life, plus over a billion faithful. I can handle Monaco’s forty thousand-odd citizens and additional residents easily.”

“It almost appears that you’re auditioning for the job,” she said.

Maxence sighed. He hadn’t thought he’d have to convince Marie-Therese. “I was the spare heir my whole life. I wasn’t tutored in the running of the government as much as Pierre was, but my parents and then aunt and uncle made sure I had a basic grasp on what to do if the need arose. On that note, I am stating again for the record,” he nodded at Dree, who was scribbling on the tablet, “I don’t want the throne. If it is offered, I will refuse.”

Marie-Therese laughed. “I didn’t think you did. I remember when my mother took all of us cousins out to that fast food restaurant in France. We chased you around with the paper crown for hours. I thought you were going to break out in hives. Pierre eventually got his hands on it, no matter how we played keep-away, and then he wore it for a month until it fell apart.”

Marie-Therese’s mother had been an angel, taking the brood of cousins to parks, children’s events, and feeding them fattening food when they were home from boarding school. “And you kept wearing the paper crown and running away, just to hear Pierre scream.”

Maxence observed his cousin closely.

Marie-Therese laughed again, almost gaily. “Pierre was dreadfully easy to provoke.”

“But you wore it. Do you want to wear this one?” he asked her.

“Me? Oh, God, no. I’m fine with being a noble lady, and I have never aspired to anything higher. I spend my whole life partying and being pretty so I can have my picture taken, and doing whatever I want, whenever I want. Royals have a fully booked schedule every day, from six in the morning until midnight. You could not pay me enough to be the Princess of Monaco.”

Maxence considered what she’d said. “You don’t just ‘have your picture taken.’ You have three million Instagram followers.”

“I like my life the way it is, Maxence. I’m horrifically rich, and I play with being a ‘social media influencer’ along with my cousins because one doesn’t need skills or ambition to do it, and it amuses me. I parade around in pretty dresses and am named