Prince's Proposition (The Exiled Royals #3) (8 page)

Xavier’s heart pounded. He hoped Paula hadn’t left, yet. The elevator climbed steadily to the penthouse, but it stopped on practically every floor, even when there was no one there to pick up. Finally, however, he made it, and he burst into their room, breathless.

“Paula!” He skidded to a stop.

She was sitting on the sofa in jeans and a t-shirt, comfortable clothing, and her luggage was packed and at her feet.

“I can explain everything. I really can,” he said, bursting through the door of the hotel room they’d shared so intimately the night before.

“I don’t care. I don’t need you to peddle me anything. You went off to charm an investor for yourself and humiliated me.”

“You don’t understand. Petrokov---”

“Could have waited, and you
promised
me. I know I am stupid to believe promises from you. I know better, but, damn it, I thought you could change.”

“I did,” he said, stepping to the sofa and flinching when she stood up and grabbed the handles of her bags. No. No! His heart fell at the dead look in her eyes. But he had to try to get her to understand. “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not leaving first this time, and you know that. This afternoon, you had a choice between being a success by your definition, and being with me and doing good in the world. God, I wanted you to choose better. I
needed
you to choose better. But you didn’t, and I’m not even shocked. Just mad.”

“I said I was sorry. I can explain. This is the investor I need! I can finally show my mom--”

“Then fine, put all your efforts into your mom then,” she murmured. “You know, Xavier, it’s always something with you. You always have an excuse why you have to put everything into work.
Your
work.”  She said, gritting her teeth. “I’m tired, Xavier. I’m not doing this anymore. You’re selfish, and you’ll never change.”

“Wait!” Desperate, he reached out, and he gripped her arm. “Please, you have to stay. P.—Paula! I love you.”

She stepped back and tears started to pour down her cheeks. “No you don’t. Don’t you ever say that. You have no right to say that. You really don’t. And if you actually did love me like you say, you wouldn’t have humiliated me.”

“But I wanted--”

“Exactly,” she said, stomping and racing for the door. “
You
wanted, Xavier. Well now,
Paula
wants something, and she wants to be left alone!”

***

It took a few hours before he checked out himself. Part of him wanted to run after Paula and stage some ‘80s era romantic comedy grand gesture, then race with her to the airport. But he knew that wouldn’t work. The way Paula had looked at him? He’d never seen hatred that intense burning in her sapphire eyes before. He’d finally pressed his luck too much. That was it, and he’d lost the love of his life.

Suddenly, what happened with the
Rostov Investments
didn’t feel as revolutionary as satisfying. It was what he had, and he’d cling to his job, but it would always haunt him that he’d earned its international reputation by embarrassing the woman he loved and by losing her forever. For the longest time, he sat on the couch, staring at the paintings on the walls and feeling the humid air against his cheeks.

Nothing felt real, but maybe loss never did.

Finally, as if in a trance, he packed up all his possessions and headed down the stairs. In the lobby, he was shocked to find Yuri, his family’s main business attorney, standing by the check-in desk, his mustache thick and dark as ever and his suit stained with a mystery spot near his breast pocket. He always had been a bit of a klutz and a slob.

But he had a razor sharp mind.

And that was something his mother valued in her business meetings and contracts. However, Yuri was also an oily little man, and someone who tended to have bite even far sharper than his bark. He was intimidating and scary as hell.

He was the  sent in for the killing blows at meetings, so that meant Queen Mina had quite the nasty bomb waiting to explode in Xavier’s face. After all, Mommy Dearest only sent the very best when she was stomping on him. It had been Yuri who came with the paperwork last year, to explain his trust fund rules and the terms of his exile from the throne.

“Yuri,” Xavier practically growled “I do not have time for your nonsense.”

“Then I will cut to the chase,” he said, pulling out a thick sheaf of papers from his briefcase. "You need to read this right away.”

“I don’t understand,” he said, beginning to sift through his information. The legalese wasn’t too oblique and he’d seen enough papers and documents to get the gist. “What is this? Are you fucking kidding me? This is a non-compete clause.”

“Yes.  We believe that you are demonstrably using the Rostov family name to build your brand and your power. Some of your current investors are already old investors to The Royal Bank of Ruminea, and you admit that you are using your cache and the Rostov name to build further.”

“I
am
a Rostov.”

“Yes, quite,” Yuri said. “However, we have a case, and you must cease and desist all financial transactions until a court hearing to be held in a year out of Krakava.”

“I can’t go back home! And a year? You did this on purpose! Mother won’t let me have a job, not the one I want at least, but she will crush all my efforts otherwise. What kind of bizarre game is this?”

“Nothing’s ever easy in business, is it, Master Rostov?” Yuri said, his tone far too self-satisfied. God, the awful little man was probably getting off on this. They’d never gotten along, and it had gotten worse over the year since his exile.

“But I can’t
not
work for a year. Even if the legal proceedings go well, we’ll be out of commission so long that it won’t matter if we can compete or not.”

“Yes, I imagine this will effectively end your upstart ways. Pity that,” Yuri agreed. “Good day.” With that, he turned around and heading out of the door.

Xavier’s options were few and far between. His flight left in eight hours, the one he’d paid through the nose to get to so he could return with his tail between his legs to see Raymond.

His cousin’s home was the only place Xavier had left to go and thank God that at least Raymond was there to help him and to support him in the invariable shit storm that had become his life. Still, he didn’t want to wait around at the airport as he had been planning before. Right now? God, he needed something to help fortify him, to offer him a spot of liquid courage.

He hustled his way through the lobby until he came to the bar. Hopping up on a stool, he pulled out his black American Express card and snapped for the bartender to hop to for him. “I’d like a shot of vodka please, make it a double.”

As she set the drink before him she asked, “Do you want to talk about it? It’s part of my job.”

He shook his head, and focused on the thick file in front of him. It was as big as a novel; Yuri and his mother had done their research and thought of every possible loophole to exploit.

The vodka burned down his throat, and he let it. He’d gone from the top of the world to the bottom in under an hour. How was this even possible?

He’d made love to the woman he adored just last night and all had been brimming with possibilities. Now he was drunk in the middle of Mumbai with not a clue of what he was going to do outside of moping around his cousin’s home.

There was nothing left, and he was so hollow inside that he almost didn’t care.

“You know,” Raymond said. “You’re going to wear out my carpet.”

Xavier glared at him. He heard the censure in his cousin’s tone. That was unusual. In the two months since he’d come home, Xavier had become a fixture over at Raymond’s place, even if he still maintained his own penthouse locally too.

Still, it was too lonely there. So he came to sit on Raymond’s couch, watch TV, read
The Wall Street Journal
and, frankly, do a whole lot of nothing. But after the first week of trying to alternately guilt and pep-talk him into action, Raymond and Melissa had promised not to harass him or to work harder on him to act differently.

He was the king of moping and as it was with anything he set out to do, Xavier excelled at it.

For good reason. Paula wouldn’t take his calls and had blocked his emails. After two weeks, he gave up trying to contact her at all. He’d been given a brilliant second chance ever since the 5k run, and he’d destroyed it.

Now, he really was learning to live without her. It was crushing.  Xavier realized that during the past three years, he’d always believed deep in his heart that he could win Paula back, and that they’d be together.

But he’d expected to be able to do that in his own time. When
he
wanted to do it.

Now he was learning differently. He had nothing but time, and he couldn’t do a thing to win Paula back.

“You know you should do something. Anything!” He glared back at Raymond. “Are you serious? What could I possibly do? My company is in shambles now since most of the investors have already pulled out. I don’t know what else I can do for work if it’s not finance.”

“So you’re going to retire to mostly my sofa in your early thirties, live off the trust fund and watch
The View
.”

“I don’t watch that,” he chided. “
Family Feud,
though. That grows on you.”

“I bet you would feel that way, considering everything else with Aunt Mina and Uncle Ivan and the disputes, but you can’t waste away.” Raymond shook his head. “But more importantly, what about Paula?”

“She’s gone,” Xavier shouted, throwing up his hands over his head. “What am I supposed to do? What do you want me to say? I’ve called and written and begged, and my life just feels pointless without her. ”

“No, you got it wrong. If you had truly respected Paula to begin with, then you would still have her no matter what the crowned heads of Rumania decided to do or not do. You had this amazing woman in love with you, and you turned her away.”

“I tried talking.”

“Exactly, cousin,” Raymond said, shaking his head. “You
talked
. But you need to
show
you mean things, and a big step would be doing
anything at all!
”

“I know. I feel like I can’t contribute right to society now. I have no work to focus on, no meaning. And without Paula…”

“Cousin, I’d never seen you happier than when you were working with Paula on Lillian’s
Fund
.  You were happiest working with our small non-profit and touching people’s lives. I think that means something.”

Xavier nodded and smiled. There was something about going to the events, meeting people, and hearing their stories that had deeply touched his heart. In the last two months, he had to admit that following the market in Asia late at night or trying to kiss banker and scion ass wasn’t what he missed. It just didn’t seem that important anymore. But what he thought about were the charity runs and the cocktail parties, meeting cancer survivors and learning from doctors. He thought about Paula’s smile after a successful event, and knowing that people’s lives would be changed for the better, because of the work he’d done.

“Yeah it was nice.”

Nice
was too small a word for it, too little and too insignificant. It hadn’t just been nice or pleasant. That feeling of working side-by-side with Paula for the common good had given him a sense of belonging. He wasn’t trying to compete or win, and he wasn’t filled with contempt or a desire for revenge. Instead, he’d felt at home, peaceful, comforted and secure in a way he’d never once felt in Ruminea. Working with Paula at the fund had felt right, and still, he’d turned away from it.

“You can work and have a sense of purpose, cousin. You can do a lot of good in this world, and it doesn’t have to be from money. You can help people, make their lives better.” Raymond finished.

Their thoughts were matching.

Maybe helping people, even if Paula was no longer with him, was exactly what he should be doing. Instead of serving wealth and his own ego, he would serve others.

It was time for a change, and Xavier was finally ready for it.

“Okay,” Paula said to the foreman. “You said that you would be done with the drywall today. We’re trying to stick to the schedule so that the center will be open by October. It’s important that we   pair it with breast cancer awareness month. You guys are already slowing your output, you know? It’s not like Vegas has rain.”

The foreman nodded. “Yes, but we had some foundation work we didn’t anticipate, ma’am.”

“Fine, but if this delays us be even a week, you’ll be the one fielding the calls from Mrs. McCorkle. Considering how much investment and building she does all over the city, I wouldn’t want to do that if I were you,” she said, grinning a little.

“Mrs. McCorkle?” The foreman frowned and Paula was gratified to see him rush back to the gang of workers enjoying a smoke break. He yelled at them; pretty soon they were marching back to work with furor and alacrity that would make the seven dwarves jealous of their work ethic.

Paula had to chuckle to herself. Sylvia McCorkle was like a guardian angel for
Lilian’s Fund
, but she could also be a cold, hard bitch and was distinctly not someone of whom to make an enemy. Turning back, she hurried to her car. There were extra copies of the blueprints that she wanted to go over with the foreman once he was done having his mini-heart attack and power work hour.

What she didn’t expect was to find Xavier Rostov waiting by her Pontiac, his head high and his mouth set in a grim, firm line.

Perfect. Just when my day couldn’t get worse…

She shook her head and stopped a few feet from him in the parking lot. “I made it clear over two months ago that I don’t want anything to do with you. The charity actually picked up quite a few donors at the Mumbai banquet in spite of your lack of effort, proving that you’re not needed. A few foreign investors preferred my moxie to your lack of commitment.”

“They should,” he said, nodding back at her. “I always said it was you, and look at this place. You’re creating something amazing.”

“Don’t flatter me. There were enough times that you insulted how I chose to run this charity. Quite frankly, I’m not interested in hearing what you have to say. So if you’re here to try and talk your way back into my pants, you can just forget about it, Xavier.”

“I’m not.”

“Then I have no idea what you do want from me,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. It didn’t matter that he made her heart pound faster in her chest. It didn’t matter that goosebumps were erupting all over her skin. It just didn’t matter. She was more than her desires, and she needed to keep her wits about her now. “There’s no more bank to try luring me back to either.”

“I want there to be.”

“Xavier, this is ridiculous,” she said, pulling out her keys and clicking open her car. “I need to go.”

“No, you misunderstand. I want to set up a special loan and investment brokerage that works specifically to helping non-profits find funding. I want to focus specifically on helping people with admirable dreams and make them come true so that they can do good things in the world.”

“What?” she asked, her voice small. She had to have misheard him. Xavier never cared about anyone but himself, and he was only interested in business when he was the one who would benefit from the bottom line.

“I’ve been talking to Raymond’s contacts and my own,” he said, then reached out and touched her cheek. Heat flared over her skin from his touch. Damn it. She never could resist him. “I wanted you to be an advisor for it. I don’t know anyone else who has as good a heart as you, who cares about charity more.”

“And if I said no? Is this another ploy?” She felt her defenses crumbling. Damn Xavier. She couldn’t resist him.

“No, I’m sick of only worrying about me. If all I ever do is donate yearly to
Lillian’s Fund
and never see you again after today, then the bank I’m building will go on. It’s the real deal. You can call and ask Raymond or Melissa, if you think I’m having you on.” He sighed. “I know I screwed up and I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I’d like you to. I’m building this bank either way, but I know with you onboard, it will succeed beyond our wildest expectations.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Paula studied him. Instead of the arrogant, overworked man she’d always known, she saw sincerity and dedication in his eyes. And something else.

Love. For her.

“Don’t say anything,” he told her. “Whatever you decide is fine. But there’s another venture I can’t make succeed unless you join me…I hope you do.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh? And which venture is that, Xavier?”

“Our relationship.”

She stared at him. “Really? You mean it, this time?”

“I’ve never meant anything more.” He stepped forward and kissed her. Despite everything he’d said and done—and not done, Paula relaxed in his grasp, feeling love and warmth. That warmth was a raging forest fire in her body and she wanted him back, knew that she’d take him too because he was everything she ever wanted.

“Say,” Xavier said, grinning back at her. “That we’ll work together, and really make this city great.”

“No. We’ll make it better than great.” she said, smiling back at him. “Together.”