Valerie Parv - The Princess and the Playboy

Of all the reckless, foolhardy . . . Of all the reckless, foolhardy . . . Jase’s condemnation of himself was total as he paced the length of the living room at the Martine villa. From the start he had sensed that the woman wasn’t being honest with him. Letting himself kiss her before he had solved the mystery was the height of stupidity. Now “The Princess and the Playboy in Secret Love Tryst” was the national breakfast-time reading. “Secret Plot Against Playboy” was more like it, he fumed inwardly. He had fought some tangled corporate battles in his time, but they paled alongside this for deviousness. Talay’s denials had sounded convincing enough, but it was too neat a scheme for him to believe she hadn’t foreseen this outcome. About the Author Valerie Parv has been a successful journalist and nonfiction writer. She began writing for Harlequin Mills & Boon in 1982. Born in Shropshire, England, she grew up in Australia and now lives with her cartoonist husband and their cat—the office manager—in Sydney, New South Wales. She is a keen futurist, a Star Trek enthusiast, and her interests include traveling, restoring dollhouses and entertaining friends. Writing romance novels affirms her belief in love and happy endings. In The Princess and the Playboy, Valerie Parv has returned to the fictitious realm of Sapphan, which she created in one of her previous titles, A Royal Romance. Title Page The Princess and the Playboy Valerie Parv www.millsandboon.co.uk CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN EPILOGUE Copyright

Of all the reckless, foolhardy . . .

Jase’s condemnation of himself was total as he paced the length of the living room at the Martine villa.

From the start he had sensed that the woman wasn’t being honest with him. Letting himself kiss her before he had solved the mystery was the height of stupidity. Now “The Princess and the Playboy in Secret Love Tryst” was the national breakfast-time reading.

“Secret Plot Against Playboy” was more like it, he fumed inwardly. He had fought some tangled corporate battles in his time, but they paled alongside this for deviousness. Talay’s denials had sounded convincing enough, but it was too neat a scheme for him to believe she hadn’t foreseen this outcome.

Valerie Parv has been a successful journalist and nonfiction writer. She began writing for Harlequin Mills & Boon in 1982. Born in Shropshire, England, she grew up in Australia and now lives with her cartoonist husband and their cat—the office manager—in Sydney, New South Wales. She is a keen futurist, a Star Trek enthusiast, and her interests include traveling, restoring dollhouses and entertaining friends. Writing romance novels affirms her belief in love and happy endings.

In The Princess and the Playboy, Valerie Parv has returned to the fictitious realm of Sapphan, which she created in one of her previous titles, A Royal Romance.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

IT WASN’T always easy being a princess, Talay Rasada thought with a sigh. There were so many rules, things you could and couldn’t do, and endless protocol to be followed. ‘If I were an ordinary Sapphan woman I could arrange a meeting with this Jase Clendon and tell him all the reasons his plans are totally unacceptable.’

Her friend, Allie Martine, smiled understandingly. ‘But you are a princess, Talay. Your uncle is probably right. It isn’t good for your public image to be seen around a man with Jase’s reputation with women. What would Luc Armand think, for a start?’

Talay let her flashing eyes betray her opinion. ‘Luc Armand isn’t my keeper, no matter how attractive and highly suitable my uncle thinks he is.’

Allie grew serious. ‘It must be rough, having so many expectations heaped on you.’

‘It goes with being royal,’ Talay accepted, ‘although I’m so far away from the throne that I could be an old maid and nobody would notice.’

‘I’d notice,’ Allie said firmly. ‘This isn’t about being royal. It’s about you and marriage, isn’t it?’ When Talay nodded she went on, ‘When you lost your parents you lost more than anyone should have to bear, but denying yourself love for the rest of your life won’t change what happened.’

‘I know.’

‘So why not give Luc Armand a chance, instead of exhausting yourself fighting battles you can’t hope to win? From what Michael tells me, Jase Clendon does things his way so you’re unlikely to sway him with emotional arguments even if you do get to meet him, which you won’t.’

‘You get to meet him,’ Talay mocked.

Allie sighed. ‘In the first place I don’t belong to the royal family and, in the second, Michael has known Jase for years as they went to the same university in Australia.’

Talay was intrigued. ‘But you’ve not actually met him yet?’

‘No, and I wish I didn’t have to this time. Why must he come to Sapphan now, just when Michael has arranged a second honeymoon for us?’ She gave a dreamy sigh. ‘Paris, imagine. I’ve never been there and, with Jase coming next week, it looks as if it will be a long time before I do.’ She patted the soft curve of her stomach. ‘Once Michael junior arrives there won’t be much time for second honeymoons.’

‘Paris is glorious,’ Talay agreed. ‘I studied jewellery design there for a year and I never tired of the museums, the galleries, the open-air cafés. We have so much French heritage in Sapphan that I felt completely at home.’

‘I envy you. Instead of drinking café au lait at some open-air bistro next week, I’ll be playing hostess here while Michael and Jase discuss business endlessly. With them both. involved in the tourism industry, I probably shan’t get a word in edgewise.’

‘There must be a solution,’ Talay said slowly, but her mind was racing a mile a minute. ‘It’s crazy that you’re being forced to meet Jase Clendon and I can’t when I’m the one who wants to. He can’t possibly be allowed to open one of his three-ring-circus resorts along the Pearl Coast. I’m all for progress, but his plan is inappropriate for one of the most beautiful and unspoiled regions in our country.’

‘They aren’t exactly three-ring-circuses,’ Allie pointed out. ‘All right, they are attractive to the mega-rich, but only because they’re designed with exquisite taste. From what Michael tells me, Jase insists on the best of everything. He prefers locations like the Pearl Coast because they’re remote and exotic.’

‘And they appeal to the jaded tastes of people who’ve seen it all and done it all, like Jase Clendon himself, from what I read,’ Talay stated scornfully. ‘Since he announced his plans for Crystal Bay I keep seeing his picture everywhere.’ Usually on the arm of some stunningly beautiful woman, she recalled. She had even read something about an ex-wife in Australia. Jase’s playboy image was the main reason her ever-protective uncle, King Philippe, had thought it unwise for her to be seen in the man’s company. But maybe she didn’t have to be seen...

‘How much do you want to go to Paris with Michael?’ she asked.

Allie looked puzzled. ‘I’d give anything to go, but it isn’t possible.’

‘Perhaps it is. You say you haven’t actually met Jase Clendon face to face?’

Allie shook her head. ‘He and Michael went to college together then afterwards Michael came here for a holiday, married me and never went home to Australia. Jase has been here before but, for one reason or another, our paths haven’t crossed. He was supposed to attend our wedding, but became shipwrecked in mid-Pacific during an around-the-world yacht race and never made it to the ceremony. Although Michael is as disappointed as me about our second honeymoon, he likes the idea that I’ll finally meet his friend.’

She wandered to a cabinet on which was displayed an assortment of framed photographs. Talay’s graduation photo was among them. Allie picked up the one beside it and handed it to Talay. ‘This was taken last year when Michael and Jase competed in the Sydney to Hobart yacht race.’

The photo showed the two men hauling on ropes on the deck of an ocean-going yacht and Talay felt a jolt of reaction as she looked at the man beside Michael. Allie’s husband was almost six feet tall but Jase was half a head taller with a head of thick wavy hair the colour of burnt toast. Some of it fell across his forehead in a boyishly appealing look. Talay could imagine him constantly brushing it off his face but it would, no doubt, fall back again just as quickly.

Jase’s hair was the only remotely boyish thing about him. In the photo he was soaked to the skin and his crew shirt was plastered over shoulders that looked as if they could carry the weight of the world without flinching. The effect was enhanced by a deeply sculpted chest and muscular arms.

He had eyes the colour of a storm-tossed sea, she also noticed. They gazed out of the photograph right into her own with a familiarity that tugged at her. Had she met him somewhere before? Or was she reacting to the sensual appeal of the man which practically leapt out of the photograph at her?

- She blinked furiously to dispel the sensation. He was the enemy, the man who wanted to plunder her beloved Pearl Coast for commercial gain. How could she think of him in anything but disparaging terms? Still, it was hard to tear her eyes away from his mesmerising sea-green ones. Her throat dried as she imagined meeting him in the flesh. The thought was so overpowering that she put the photo down hastily.

‘Would Michael be put out if Jase Clendon were to change his plans, arriving maybe two weeks later, so you’d have time to go to Paris and return?’

Allie’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you scheming, Talay Rasada, and why do I get the feeling that what you’re about to suggest is conduct unbecoming a princess?’

‘Then I shan’t suggest it. Let’s say I have a strong feeling Jase is about to receive a message about the two-week delay.’

Allie laughed. ‘I get it, you’re going to pull some royal strings to delay him so he can’t get here until after we’ve been to Paris.’

Talay hadn’t thought of that but it was a good idea, and far less daring than what she actually had in mind. She smiled regally. ‘What’s the use of being royal if you can’t occasionally use it to your advantage?’ It was close enough to the truth that it didn’t alert Allie’s suspicions.

Her friend looked relieved. ‘Sometimes it’s great, having royal connections. Do you know, before I met you and we shared a room at boarding school I thought you would be stuck-up and horrible?’

‘And now?’

Allie enveloped her in a hug. ‘You’re one of the sweetest, most caring people I know. Doesn’t the king realise you’re only upset about the resort plans because you care so much about this country?’

‘He cares, too,’ Talay said soberly, ‘but he lives in the capital most of the time. And Andaman is a long way from the Pearl Coast. He’s so used to going everywhere with a great entourage that he doesn’t see what I see—a simple, traditional way of life which may not survive a huge influx of tourism.’

‘I suppose you’ve pointed this out to the king?’

Talay nodded. ‘Who listens to a twenty-six-year-old jewellery designer? I’m not a politician or a member of the cabinet.’