The Forgotten Prince by Patricia McLinn

Author:Patricia McLinn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9781939215581
Publisher: Craig Place Books
Published: 2019-10-31T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY

Harmon put down the half-full glass because her hands had the stupidest tendency to shake all of a sudden and holding the glass made it too obvious.

She’d been dressed down and ordered around by executives and taxi drivers. Shouted and screamed at in more languages than she knew. Called names and cursed. Not one of those events had made her shake.

Neither Jenny nor Tucker had used a harsh word or a raised voice. They’d simply conveyed how badly she’d hurt Karl.

She’d had no idea…

No, that wasn’t true. She had known he would be deeply hurt by her breaking up with him.

She hadn’t cared.

Okay, she’d cared. But it had been the only possible answer.

“The thing is,” she said with a smile that made her cheeks ache, “maybe I was doing the same thing in my way — protecting him from my worst instincts. I was so clearly not good enough for him. Everyone saw that except Karl.”

“Now, see, if you’d said that to Jenny, you might have had her on your side.”

Maybe it was his light tone that drew her into saying more. Possibly that western drawl that was similar to … other western drawls.

“That’s probably why I didn’t say it to her. I prefer not to be encumbered by allies. The need to think about them, keep them happy, avoid dragging them into a fight they don’t want.” Her tone was as light as his. Faster than his drawl, but relaxed, amused, disarming. Perfect. “Better to fight alone, be lean and nimble. That’s how I’ve run my business.”

“Life, too, I suspect.” Neither approving nor critical. More like a scientist looking at a bug.

She wasn’t enjoying this. She couldn’t get a gauge on him. She kept the smile going. “Of course.”

He slowly nodded. “Ah.”

“What does that mean?” she snapped, knowing she shouldn’t be drawn, knowing she should have let it lie until it died from lack of oxygen.

“Just means it’s another bit of confirmation that you’re self-destructive.”

Another bit. What the hell — And then the end of his sentence hit her.

“Self-destructive?” she repeated in astonished ire. “I am not self-destructive. If Karl Wethers said I’m—”

“Not Karl. He said you were your own worst enemy. Self-destructive’s all mine. Takes one to know one.” He reached up as if for a hat that wasn’t there, turned the gesture into an easy half-salute. “Be seeing you.”

*

Fresh air.

That’s what she needed. She turned quickly, almost colliding with Prince Vatche.

“The most enchanting Harmon Reed.” He tried to capture her hand. Probably aiming to kiss it.

She eluded him and the hand kiss.

“Excuse me, Prince Vatche, I need to—”

“But I shall not excuse you. You appear distressed. Was that disreputable person who was brought here by that … that cowboy who so laughably calls himself a prince accosting you? It is as well for you to experience this discomfort now, for you must see now what I have seen from the first moment, that you are too fine to be a part of this, this cabal of the others.

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