The Maverick Prince (Rich, Rugged And Royal #1)(4)
Author: Catherine Mann

Safe enough for the anger and betrayal to come bubbling to the surface. She’d been mad at him since their fight last weekend over his continued insistence on giving her money. But those feelings were nothing compared to the rage that coursed through her now. “We’re alone. Talk to me.”

“It’s complicated.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. Normal traffic tooled along the narrow street. “What do you want to know?”

She forced herself to say the words that would drive a permanent wedge between her and the one man she’d dared let into her life again.

“Are you a part of that lost royal family, the one everybody thought was hiding in Argentina?”

The Cadillac’s finely tuned engine hummed in the silence. Lights clicked on automatically with the setting sun, the dash glowing.

His knuckles went white on the steering wheel, his jaw flexing before he nodded tightly. “The rumors on the internet are correct.”

And she’d thought her heart couldn’t break again.

Her pride had been stung over Tony’s offer to give her money, but she would have gotten over it. She would have stuck to her guns about paying her own way, of course. But this? It was still too huge to wrap her brain around. She’d slept with a prince, let him into her home, her body, and considered letting him into her heart. His deception burned deep.

How could she have missed the truth so completely, buying into his stories about working on a shrimp boat as a teen? She’d assumed his tattoo and the closed over pierced earlobe were parts of an everyman past that seduced her as fully as his caresses.

“Your name isn’t even Tony Castillo.” Oh God. She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, suddenly nauseated because she didn’t even know the name of the guy she’d been sleeping with.

“Technically, it could be.”

Shannon slammed her fists against the leather seat instead of reaching for him as she ached to do. “I’m not interested in technically. Actually, I’m not interested in people who lie to me. Can I even trust that you’re really thirty-two years old?”

“It isn’t just my decision to share specific details. I have other family members to consider. But if it’s any consolation, I really am thirty-two. Are you really twenty-nine?”

“I’m not in a joking mood.” Shivering, she thumbed her bare ring finger where once a three-carat diamond had rested. After Nolan’s funeral, she’d taken it off and sold it along with everything else to pay off the mountain of debt. “I should have known you were too good to be true.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Who makes millions by thirty-two?”

He cocked an arrogant eyebrow. “Did you just call me a moocher?”

“Well, excuse me if that was rude, but I’m not exactly at my best tonight.”

His arms bulged beneath his Italian suit—she’d had to look up the exclusive Garaceni label after she’d seen the coat hanging on his bedpost.

Tony looked even more amazing out of the clothes, his tanned and muscled body eclipsing any high-end wardrobe. And the smiles he brought to her life, his uninhibited laughter were just what she needed most.

How quiet her world had been without him this week. “Sorry to have hurt your feelings, pal. Or should I say, Your Majesty? Since according to some of those stories I’m ‘His Majesty’s mistress.’”

“Actually, it would be ‘Your Highness.’” His signature smile tipped his mouth, but with a bitter edge. “Majesty is for the king.”

How could he be so flippant? “Actually, you can take your title and stuff it where the sun—”

“I get the picture.” He guided the Escalade over the Galveston Island Causeway, waves moving darkly below. “You’ll need time to calm down so we can discuss how to handle this.”

“You don’t understand. There’s no calming down. You lied to me on a fundamental level. Once we made l—” she stumbled over the next word, images of him moving over her, inside her, stealing her words and breath until her stomach churned as fast as the waters below “—after we went to bed together, you should have told me. Unless the sex didn’t mean anything special to you. I guess if you had to tell every woman you slept with, there would be no secret.”

“Stop!” He sliced the air with his hand. His gleaming Patek Philippe watch contrasted with scarred knuckles, from his sailing days he’d once told her. “That’s not true and not the point here. You were safer not knowing.”

“Oh, it’s for my own good.” She wrapped her arms around herself, a shield from the hurt.

“How much do you know about my family’s history?”

She bit back the urge to snap at him. Curiosity reined in her temper. “Not much. Just that there was a king of some small country near Spain, I think, before he was overthrown in a coup. His family has been hiding out to avoid the paparazzi hoopla.”

“Hoopla? This might suck, but that’s the least of my worries. There are people out there who tried to kill my family and succeeded in murdering my mother. There are people who stand to gain a lot in the way of money and power if the Medinas are wiped off the planet.”

Her heart ached for all he had lost. Even now, she wanted to press her mouth to his and forget this whole insane mess. To grasp that shimmering connection she’d discovered with him the first time they’d made love in a frenzied tangle at his Galveston Bay mansion.

“Well, believe it, Shannon. There’s a big bad world outside your corner of Texas. Right now, some of the worst will start focusing on me, my family and anyone who’s close to us. Whether you like it or not, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and Kolby protected.”

Her son’s safety? Perspiration froze on her forehead, chilling her deeper. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Of course she’d barely wrapped her brain around Tony…Antonio. “Drive faster. Get me home now.”

“I completely agree. I’ve already sent bodyguards ahead of us.”

Bodyguards?

“When?” She’d barely been able to think, much less act. What kind of mother was she not to have considered the impact on Kolby? And what kind of man kept bodyguards on speed dial?

“I texted my people while we were leaving through the kitchen.”

Of course he had people. The man was not merely the billionaire shipping magnate she’d assumed, he was also the bearer of a surname generations old and a background of privilege she couldn’t begin to fathom.