Prince's Proposition (The Exiled Royals #3)
Read Prince's Proposition (The Exiled Royals #3) Online
Authors: Ivy Iverson
Prince’s Proposition
By Ivy Iverson
The Royal Exiles Series
Book 3
Blurb
After giving his all to the family bank, Prince Xavier never imagined he’d be exiled for his workaholic ways. He learned early on that hard work was the only way to prove his worth, and now he’ll make it with or without his family. He’s determined to start a rival institution, but he needs help. When he runs into Paula Reynolds, he knows he’s found what he’s been looking for.
Former finance whiz Paula left the banking world behind eight years ago with no plans to return. But since then, her charity fundraising hasn’t gone as well as she hoped. She needs something that will bring big money to her events. The last thing she wants, though, is for that something to come in the form of the prince who broke her heart.
Paula wants to refuse. He chose work over their relationship before, and she won’t put herself in that position again. But Xavier is just the celebrity draw she needs to attract potential donors. If she agrees to help him get his bank off the ground, she’ll have to guard herself from repeating the mistakes of the past. Or can Xavier learn that there is more to life than work?
Table of Contents
“Damn it!” Few things drew a crowd like a disgraced and exiled prince, especially one who’d been so publicly excommunicated or whose company was trying to compete with the Royal Bank of Ruminea. It was good for the cause, but bad for Xavier. He could already see the runners starting the race, moving in a swift, steady stream under the “Lillian’s…”
something or other
banner. The name of the race didn’t matter. What
did
matter was that Raymond was going to pitch a fit.
There! Xavier spotted his cousin running by. He pushed through the throng and pulled into stride next to his cousin.
“There you are. I was behind you at the start,” Xavier said.
“You’re
late,
” Raymond replied, his voice fraught with just barely concealed frustration.
“Well, you know how it is--”
“No, I don’t. We
all
have businesses and outfits to run, but
you’re
the only one who allows it to rule his entire life.”
Xavier winced as the first real pain of dehydration hit him. “The markets open early in Japan and China, and I was working on my investment portfolio there. Only a fool doesn’t find out what the Yen is going to do that day. I need to stay ahead.”
True, maybe he shouldn’t have worked until two a.m. and then been busy with faxes and emails until less than an hour ago. And yes, he should have drunk more water and carbo loaded. Already his muscles were screaming at him for being exhausted and unprepared.
Still, he had promised Raymond he would run for the charity race organized for his own non-profit work. And Xavier didn’t back out of his promises
He just wished Raymond would show more gratitude. Especially since Xavier felt like he was about to die.
He grit his teeth and tried not to let the discomfort show. If he
did
die, Raymond would just to rub in the fact that he’d been unprepared to run.
He didn’t want to hear it.
“You need to keep your promises, Xavier,” Raymond huffed.
Too late.
“Don’t be such a puss. Why do you think I’m here helping you sponsor Leslie’s Charity with your run?”
“It’s actually
Lillian’s Fund
,” Raymond pointed out. “If you’d bothered to read the files I gave you, then you’d know that
Lillian’s Fund
is the charity you’re raising for. It’s a breast cancer foundation. If the press ask--assuming you can cross the finish line at all--you might want to at least name the
correct
charity.”
He should die. Then he wouldn’t have to speak to anybody and it would serve Raymond right for being a nag. “I
did
read the briefs,” Xavier said. At least the bullet points. Besides was there really a big difference between “Leslie” and “Lillian?” Neither of it was actively helping his bottom line. Besides, he was just doing this as favor for his cousin. All that was necessary was to show up. As far as he could tell, it had worked; his appearance had attracted more people and extra media attention—and more potential donors.
The crest of the hill grew steeper, and he pumped his legs with knees held high. God, all he had to do was get through the next kilometer.
On the sidewalk, the spectators cheered. Of course they did. They weren’t dehydrated. And, they were pleased to see a pair of royals racing under the blazing sun. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to run a race in Vegas?
Next year, he’d suggest a swim meet. Or something that involved cool drinks and girls in bikinis. Wouldn’t that have worked just as well—maybe better?
“You could at least smile,” Raymond ground out. “And look like you’re enjoying yourself.”
Xavier waved and pulled a grin for the crowd.
Next
time he’d drink buckets before starting into a race. He’d definitely get more sleep. And most importantly, he
wouldn’t
run next to Raymond. The royal
pain
.
He made it to the top of the hill, his heart racing, and then he groaned when he realized that the neighborhood they were in was built on hills.
“Are you sure this isn’t the charity from Hell? Next time you ask me for a favor, I want interest.” He wiped the sweat from his brow and blinked it from his eyes.
“You could always just drop out,” Raymond muttered, his own breath coming hard and fast.
“So could you.” Xavier challenged. There was no way he would drop out. Exiled or not, he was still a prince, and he had an image to uphold.
Plus, Raymond would rub his nose in it for the rest of his life. Fat chance.
Besides, he’d let Melissa down. Raymond’s fiancée was the
real
reason he’d promised to run this race, because truly, he didn’t need the publicity or the opportunity to haggle with Raymond. All she’d had to do was give him wide eyes and a desperate lip bite and he was toast.
His reward? Snark from Raymond, cramps in his calves, and the nagging feeling that he was only wasting time running a race when he should be working. What if he missed a deal because he couldn’t say ‘no’?
His daydream had caused him to lag behind. Finally, however, his endorphins had kicked in and he found it easier to catch up to Raymond. “Ha,” he said, and passed his cousin.
Take that.
Xavier rounded the corner and readied himself to surge farther ahead and really leave Raymond in the dust.
But then…he spotted
her
.
He stopped dead in his tracks, almost causing a pile-up. He ignored the curses of the runners who passed him, unable to believe his eyes. Was he hallucinating?
Maybe he had died—and just didn’t know it yet.
Paula Reynolds.
She looked exactly the same as she had three years before, when she’d worked beside him at the Royal Bank of Ruminea. Before his mother had worked to ruin him and exiled him. “Paula?” he whispered, moving out of the way of another pack of runners.
Still the same polar-ice blue eyes and pale skin; as always, the tall, cool and curvy blonde. She was ice to his fire but as always, he couldn’t stay away. No matter that their last encounter had ended with curses and vase throwing, no matter that she’d left him to rot in exile in Ruminea.
He slowly approached the table where she stood, handing out Gatorade to thirsting runners. Ironic, since he’d never stopped thirsting for her.
She was here. Not a hallucination. And still as desirable as ever.
Xavier swiped sweat from his brow once more and put on his broadest, most charming smile, the one he used whenever he needed to play it up for the press and beautiful women, and he waited until she looked right at him. “Hello, Paula, fancy seeing you here,” he said.
The splash of Gatorade to his face was a hint that maybe she wasn’t as happy to see him, as he was with her.
Paula couldn’t believe it.
Xavier!
His cocky smirk, his sandalwood and musky scent, and especially, his overconfident, bright, gold-flecked hazel eyes…there was no way she could have stopped herself from flinging the sports drink at his face. It was a reflex.
Kind of like warding your eyes from the sun. Or putting out a blaze.
Despite the red liquid dripping down his cheeks and chin, and the drop hanging like a ruby-colored bead from the tip of his nose, the wide grin never even dropped from his face. That rat bastard never did miss a beat, did he?
“P, I’m disappointed. That’s not how you greet someone after three years apart. Besides,
you’re
the one who left me the ‘Dear John’ letter back home.
I
should be mad at
you
.” He wiped at his face with his shirt, staining it with smears of red, then plucked a bottle of sports drink from the table.
“What are you even doing here?” She waved over her shoulder to her assistant, Elena, to continue to aid the runners nearing the final stretch, then grabbed his arm and pulled him to the sidelines, out of the way. “Why are
you
here?”
“I’ve been living here since mum kicked me out of Ruminea and ripped control of the bank
I
built up over the last twelve years. Besides, Raymond needed more press and fans for the charity run so I agreed,” Xavier finished, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps and the tendons in his forearms flexed, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was doing it on purpose. “Actually, I’m the one who should ask what
you
are doing
here.
Last I heard, you were in New York. ‘Not working in the private sector’ was the direct quote, I believe.”
Paula licked her lips despite herself. “I’m working for Lillian’s Fund.”
His eyes narrowed. “You mean…you’re working for
Raymond
?
The disbelief in his voice made her smile. “For the past last ten months.” She nodded. Twelve hour days, six or seven days a week. Vegas was full of celebrities and the Kharmin name carried quite an amount of cache with it. Still, there were more charities and balls in this town than you’d think. “This 5k has been our most successful event to date.” Paula frowned. “Most of that is because of you. But I probably shouldn’t tell you that. I don’t want to swell your head any more than it already is.”
He gave her his sexy grin again, and she shivered. Once upon a time, it had turned her on like no other, and he’d known it. Even now, as he lifted the drink he’d snagged, and gulped it down—he knew he affected her. She reminded herself not to drool at the curve of his chin, his throat and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with each gulp.
God, the man radiated sex. Bastard. It dripped off him just like his sweat.
“You know,” Xavier added, eyeing her with an intensity she hadn’t felt since working with him in Ruminea, “I’ve been working hard to build up my own company. You’ve heard of
Rostov Investments
, haven’t you?”
“I’m not in the private sector,” she said, curtly. But of course she had heard of his company. Hadn’t everyone? And trust be told, she wasn’t surprised at its success. Xavier would have nothing else.
He’d always been a Scrooge-in-Training, focusing his attention less and less on their relationship and more and more on his email and his cell. “So I suppose you’re still going hot and heavy with your Smartphone, then? Last time I saw you, you even slept with it.”
He didn’t even flinch. “It’s a shame you’re not in the private sector anymore, because I need you, P. You know that I do. I’m better when I’m with you.” He tilted his head. “I miss you.”
“You mean you miss what I can do for your company.” She shook her head. “No thank you, Xavier. Been there, done that. I’m into charity now, making money for people instead of for myself. It’s very satisfying. You should try it some time.”
His gold-flecked eyes shuttered. He shook his head. “We’re a great team, P,” he insisted, reaching out to stroke her hand. “We always were.”
She pulled her hand from his touch as fast as she could. Reflex again. If he touched her, she was sure she’d get scalded.
Or tempted.
Xavier. He was the very devil. Well, she wouldn’t allow him to possess her again. “All you want from me is what I can do for you. No thank you.” Biting her lower lip, she summoned all the courage she had lacked back in Ruminea when she couldn’t face him before. Even if saying it made her heart crack in two all over again. Paula had to get the words out. “Just—just leave. And please, Xavier. Please don’t talk to me again. We’re over. I can’t talk to you anymore. Your work will always be more important to you than me—and I can’t stand it.”
Xavier didn’t flinch. He just stared at her with those fiery gold eyes, and clenched his jaw. And then, finally, he turned away and began running again without looking back.
A part of her wanted to call his name, or race after him. His shoulders were slumped and he almost appeared defeated as he started back up the slope. But it didn’t matter. It couldn’t. Paula took a deep breath and walked back to the drink table. This was her life, now, and she loved it. Her time with Xavier was over.
No matter how much a part of her longed to have him back.
