Prince's Proposal (The Exiled Royals 1) (2 page)

Jesus. She’s beautiful
.

That was the thought that struck Raymond Kharmin like a bolt of lightning as he watched the cocktail waitress trade looks with her compatriot at the bar. He was no stranger to gorgeous women. Hell, his taste for beauties from around the world was what had landed him in exile in the first place.

His mother, Queen Natasha of Yagovia, had convinced his father that he needed to be disinherited. He’d apparently “behaved unbecoming of his royal heritage” and was now no one at all. His younger sister, Serena, was set to become queen after their father died. Personally Ray thought she’d make a fine queen, but that didn’t mean he was willing to relinquish his throne to her. Besides, he knew the 18
th
century sensibilities of his family: a female ruler was not their first choice. 

The exile could have been worse. He’d stashed some cash in accounts in his own name across the globe for emergencies – perhaps some bit of trouble he might get into that would be best if there was no paper trail for his parents or their accountants to follow. It was still a comedown from the billions in wealth he’d had access to before. And he’d actually have to pay attention to how much he spent since these funds would have to last him for what might be a very long time – maybe a lifetime.

Fortunately his cousin Alexander had taught him the finer points of gambling, so he was hoping to parlay his dwindling funds into a positive cash flow that way. That was how he came to find himself in Vegas. He would have preferred Monte Carlo, of course, but he couldn’t afford that lifestyle now. Vegas would have to do.

But, unfortunately, Lady Luck was fickle. His one saving grace was that he still had permission to use the homes his family had all over the world – except in Yagovia, of course. As disappointed as his parents were in him, they didn’t want to see him living on the street. Still, he wasn’t welcome back in his homeland, and he was stripped of the real power he deserved.

The power he’d
waited
for his whole life.

Ray sighed. The women he’d tried losing himself in the last six months were beyond beautiful – models or debutantes who were drawn to the money he flaunted everywhere he went. There’d been a United Nations of beauties, but they were vapid and uninteresting and left him painfully bored.

He wanted to go home, wanted his throne, but he had no idea how to get it back.

Ray’s thoughts evaporated when the waitress made her way out to the balcony. She was short, yet she had delicious curves in all the right places, she was an enticing sight. She was also blessed with long, chocolate brown hair that fell to her waist and doe eyes that he could lose himself in for centuries if he had such good fortune. Add in her heart-shaped face and round, full lips, and Ray honestly didn’t understand why she wasn’t headlining a show on the strip instead of serving the drunk and hopeless at two a.m.

“I believe this is your phone, you left it at the craps table and I wasn’t sure you’d be back,” she said and handed him the phone. He had just borrowed a man’s phone to ring it, hoping that luck would be with him one more time, and that she would be the one to bring it to him. For the first time in months, he began to feel that things might finally be going his way.

“You’re still going to play, aren’t you?” She leaned against the balcony railing on his right. Those earnest coffee-colored eyes bore into his, making him want to confess everything to this lovely stranger, to be vulnerable for once.

Ray dismissed the thought. He’d already lost too much, and he’d never shared with a woman before. Women were just for fun, especially when no strings were attached. No one needed to hear his sob story. He seriously doubted anyone would even fucking believe it.

How many bad movies started with the tale of a lost prince? This delectable waitress would assume he was just giving her a line. 

“It’s really alright, miss,” he said, his breeding always with him, even in exile.

“Mel,” she said.

He blinked, confused. Surely he’d misheard. That was a man’s name, unless he was even more behind on American trends than he realized. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mel…short for Melissa. It’s okay. You’re the client, and I have to call you sir.”

He laughed and took his long dark hair out from its ponytail. Shaking his head, he let his hair fall easily over his shoulders. “Then let’s make a rule. I’ll call you Mel and you call me Ray. There’s no need to stand on ceremony here.”

“I guess not,” she said, “but I…need to know you’re really okay.”

“You needn’t worry. I plan to spend far more money at your fine establishment tonight. If losing a few thousand dollars bothered me, I wouldn’t be playing.”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. The waitress,
Mel¸
bristled and began to pace. “It must be nice.”

“How so?”

“You lost more than I make in a month working here. I can’t imagine being so rich that losing that much money would roll off my back.”

He wanted to say that it was still quite a lot of money, and his loss bothered him more than it would have just a year ago. After all, he’d once bet his cousin Alexander a million dollars on the outcome of a football match between their countries. A few grand was nothing to him, or at least it never had been before. But Ray knew that wasn’t going to calm her.

Let alone woo her.

Wait, she’s just a cocktail waitress. Why do I even care?

“You’ve seen big spenders before. High-rollers are the people who keep
The Lucky Seven
going, and loyalty to a place like yours, with such discreet and excellent service, is a plus.”

“I just wonder how bored you must be,” she said, then slammed her open palm over her mouth. “Oh God, that’s not what I meant at all. I’m so incredibly sorry!”

“No, I don’t think you really are,” he said, chuckling a little. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Mel, but you definitely came out here to tell me the truth. So, I may as well ask: what else do you think of me?”

She stopped pacing and looked out at the brilliant twinkling neon of the strip. Maybe she was avoiding meeting his eyes; Ray wasn’t sure. “That’s not why I came out here. It’s none of my business, or the casino’s, how much money you have or anything else. As long as you’re good for it, we’re supposed to keep promising liquor, scantily clad women, and fun times.”

He eyed her short black skirt, fishnet tights, and stilettos. Oh, yes. It turned out that Alexander’s praise of
The Lucky Seven
was correct. It wasn’t a billion dollar experience like
The Bellagio
or
The Venetian,
but it was still pleasant. His cousin swore that what the resort lacked in top of the line amenities was made up for by the lovely women it kept on staff. And he was right.

“And you have. Quite expertly, in fact. Apparently scantily clad is not the only job requirement, ‘beautiful’ is obviously another,” he said, giving her an appreciative once over. 

Mel tipped her head slightly, acknowledging his compliment. 

So, you’ve given me my phone,” he said as he slid it into his pocket. “Yet you’re still here with me; why did you really come out here?” he asked, hoping the attraction he instantly felt for her was mutual.

She sighed and gave a mirthless laugh. “Because I’m a fool.”

“I can’t imagine that foolishness would be wrapped in such an exquisite package,” he said, his voice quiet and soft. Mel was an odd girl, but lovely and spirited. She was far more interesting than any woman he’d met in the six months he’d been exiled. For now, at least, he’d play along and see what she was about – or up to. 

“Why are you here?” he asked again. “Truthfully.”

“It’s dumb.”

“Let me judge that for myself. The worst that can happen is we will share a laugh,” he smiled and took a step closer toward her and looked deeply into her eyes. “Or, perhaps, you’ll find it isn’t dumb after all. I can hardly believe that would be the case.”

“Oh, it is,” she said, her brown eyes somber. “I feel guilty. I think I broke your streak – jinxed you somehow by delivering your drink during your roll.”

Ray burst out laughing. Gambling was rife with superstition; he knew that from Alexander’s odd rituals. Even so, this beautiful creature couldn’t possibly believe she’d ruined anything for him. “Is that so?” he said. “I don’t know that I quite believe you.” 

Her brown eyes quickly turned from concern to anger. He raised his eyebrows. 

“I’m serious! It’s silly enough to admit. I know the house is supposed to win, but I still feel like I messed everything up for you.”

Noticing her change in demeanor, he leaned closer – close enough to be enticed by her intoxicating scent – and softly said, “You’ve done nothing of the kind, my dear. Besides, did it occur to you that things were messed up even before I got to Vegas; that maybe I came here to try and forget my problems?”

“No, it didn’t, or… I don’t know. I don’t usually speak this much with clients.”

“And why am I different?”

Mel blushed. That was certainly interesting. Ray was flattered to know she didn’t have this sort of tête-à-tête with just any high roller who happened into the casino. He’d have been disappointed if this was all a ruse to keep him continuously parting with his money at the tables.

“You just are. Maybe I sensed something about you, that you’re struggling, and I wanted to make sure I hadn’t added to whatever your troubles are.” 

Ray smiled and patted her shoulder; grateful that she didn’t draw back or take offense at his touch. He’d done it without thinking, but it felt natural, as if something meaningful had just passed between them, something real after being stranded in a hall of mirrors, unable to tell fiction from truth.

“You’ve done nothing but make my day,” he said. He’d put his phone back in his pocket before he’d even asked for her number.
You are really off your game tonight, Raymond,
he thought to himself. He reached in to retrieve it again, to rectify that situation. Maybe she was someone he could actually talk to while he was staying in town. His eyes widened in horror when the large platinum ring fell from his pocket. “Damn it!”

Mel bent to retrieve the ring, but in a flash, Ray dropped to one knee and caught it before it rolled through the pillars of the low balcony wall. He held it up to her with a triumphant smile. 

When she saw the antique wedding ring in his hand, Mel’s cheeks turned a vivid red. She must not have realized what he had dropped. 

Then she gave him an enigmatic smile, raising her eyebrows. “I’m confused. I only came out to return your phone and apologize for cooling your luck. The last thing I expected was for you to propose. I have no intention of getting married, especially to someone like you.” 

He closed his hand over the ring and stood. He tried not to let on that she’d wounded him. Her little joke was charming at first, but the dig at the end took him aback. But why should it? They were only strangers on a balcony; the rich patron and the waitress who had to be nice to him to keep her job and her tips. How foolish he’d been to think there might have been a spark of something more.

“It’s a good luck charm,” he said evenly. “It was my mother’s.”

Mel’s face softened. “I’m sorry. Is she…?”

“No, she’s alive, but it’s hard to get back to Yagovia to visit her as often as I’d like.”

“Ha! I knew you were Eastern European.”

He smiled sadly back at her. “I was. I’m more of an ex-pat now. Anyway, since it’s too complicated for me to return to my homeland, I carry her ring for luck. It makes me feel as if my family isn’t so far away.” Ray held the ring out to her so she could see its jewels. “My mother’s mother had it in her family. It’s over two hundred years old.”

“And you just carry it around?”

“Homesickness does strange things to all of us,” he replied. He bent his elbow and offered his arm to her. “I’d love to get a drink with you for real once you’re off duty. Or you can have that redhead cover for you and come with me now.” 

“I couldn’t.”

“I’ll give your manager all the incentive he needs.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not a whore. I know this is Vegas, but you can’t rent a cocktail waitress for a night.”

“I had no such thought. I’d just like to enjoy your company now, without having to wait until four in the morning, or whenever it is you get off work.” He took a step closer to her and was relieved when she slipped her arm through his. “Well? Will you change my luck and be my real date for the evening?”

Mel grinned at him, a look that made her face go from pretty to downright angelic. “Okay, but I’m still not marrying you.”

Mel’s head ached.

No, that was an understatement. Her head was on fire and swirling in chaos. It felt like a family of rabid possums had decided to settle there, but not before they’d tried to fight each other to the death with claws and fangs flying. 

Everything hurt; a migraine raged in her skull and her mouth was dry as cotton. Mel sat up very slowly and struggled to remember anything about the night before. Her first clue came when she eyed the room around her.

It was the presidential suite at
The Lucky Seven
.

While this room wasn’t as massive as the same kinds of suites at the big name hotels in the center of the strip, the accommodations were still gorgeous. Mel was sitting in a king-sized bed with petal-soft silk charmeuse sheets. Everything was accented in marble, and the large dining table she could see across the expanse of the room was trimmed in gold leaf. The ceiling arched in a twenty-foot-high dome, and frescos meant to remind the occupants of Renaissance paintings covered the ceiling.

It was a gorgeous view.

But not nearly as gorgeous as the man sprawled out beside her in bed.

Mel’s throat was still dry, but part of that was from the dawning realization that she and Ray had obviously enjoyed quite a night. It was a shame she couldn’t remember any of it. There were champagne bottles scattered everywhere and at least one empty bottle of Grey Goose vodka. Try as she might, Mel couldn’t remember anything from last night, nothing after they’d gone back inside to the craps table. Every minute of it was a complete blank.

The night’s drinks had certainly done the trick.

But even if she had to hightail it out soon to avoid the awkward morning after, Mel felt that she could at least enjoy the view for just a few more minutes. If she couldn’t remember having sex with Ray, then at least she could remember what an amazing specimen of masculinity he was.

His shoulders were broad and his arms muscular. He wasn’t huge like a football player or someone who lived at the gym on a diet of steroid cocktails. He wasn’t in-his-prime Schwarzenegger. No, he was long and lean like a swimmer and gifted with abs that wouldn’t quit. He definitely had an eight-pack going. His hips were lean and curved into an inviting dip. If he weren’t sleeping, she’d have had the largest urge to lick every inch of him.

Actually, asleep, there was an innocence to him that was lacking in the big spender who’d chatted her up yesterday and flirted with the women at the tables. His face seemed less lined and his hair, soft and black as coal, fanned out gently over the pillow.

Ray was certainly something else.

But he wouldn’t want her.

That just wasn’t the type of life she led. Her life, since she’d set out for Vegas at eighteen, had been about self-sufficiency. It wasn’t as though she was rolling in wealth, but she had a stable – if dull – job, a place of her own, and the occasional fun time with Brandy or with a guy.

She didn’t get attached. Connections, relationships…they all led to heartache. The key to Mel was her independence, and even if Ray were a normal guy, she wasn’t one to scratch an itch more often than once in a great while.

She’d had a boyfriend once, that great love of a lifetime in high school.

She knew better now.

And a player like Ray, who had women dripping off of him? It’d never happen. The best she could do was sneak out before he had time to let her down easy and spin a painful lie that would sound hollow to both of them.

Sighing, Mel stood and stretched her arms over her head. She looked down and rolled her eyes. She was wearing a black teddy that she’d never seen before. It was a bit much. They must have picked it up somewhere last night. Okay, this was Vegas. It wasn’t hard to imagine any number of places they might have gotten this. Vegas was the land of twenty-four-hour
everything
to anyone who could pay the right price.

If she could just find her clothes, that would be nice. There was no way she was going to try hailing a cab dressed like this.

Or, more accurately,
barely
dressed like this. 

A hot shower also sounded good. After that she could hunt for her clothes. She’d leave a note on the complimentary stationary and file this away in her great stories bank. Granted, she couldn’t remember the most memorable parts, but she’d be able to eke out enough details to make Brandy green with jealousy tomorrow at work. She headed for the bathroom and was just reaching for the knob on the faucet when she noticed it. 

The mirror reflected back the gleaming ring on her left hand. 

Shocked, she looked down and saw the platinum band – Ray’s “lucky charm.” She was even more stunned to see it wasn’t alone. Oh, no. Next to it, on the same finger, was a thicker platinum circle, one accented by a Celtic knot.

A wedding band.

“Holy shit!” she blurted before rushing back to the bedroom.

Nothing mattered now. The pounding in her head was suddenly much better, and her vision clear. Her head wasn’t swimming. The only thing that was clear in her mind was that she was either married or this was the biggest practical joke of all time. So where was the candid camera, or Ashton Kutcher, or whoever, to tell her what she’d actually won?

“Ray!” she said, shaking his shoulders. “Ray, wake up!”

“What?” He roused, finally, blinking his confused powder-blue eyes back at her. “What’s wrong?”

Mel held up her hand. “THIS!”