The Irredeemable Prince, page 26
Damn her! He wished he could call her out on a dozen aspects of her management, but all reports indicated she was doing fabulous job. He shifted against the edge of the desk. Few people he’d come across had ever been so forthright or made him feel as though he was the one on the back foot as he launched an attack. ‘Miss Hamilton, I’m Patron of the foundation. I’m astonished that someone your age—and with no academic qualifications—’, not to mention one he knew to be in possession of few morals, ‘—holds such a responsible position.’
‘Yet, I’ve held this position for two years and this is the first time you’ve bothered to meet with me,’ she attacked.
Guilt stabbed through him. He should’ve paid more personal attention to his sister’s foundation, but his advice had been that it was running smoothly, and Eden had always had complete faith in her board of directors. With so many demands on his time, it’d been easy to accept that all was well with the charity and fix his attention on matters that were of more direct interest to the kingdom. His lack of scrutiny had also been a way of distancing himself and avoiding the guilt and raw loss he still felt when he thought of his sister.
‘And, as for being young,’ she continued with a slight toss of her shoulder-length hair, ‘weren’t you crowned and in charge of the kingdom at just twenty-one?’
His lips compressed. Despite her other less than savoury qualities, India Hamilton was sharp, confident and spirited. No wonder she’d impressed the board—but then, the best con artists generally possessed loads of confidence.
Ignoring the parallels she drew between them he continued his inquisition. ‘How were you employed prior to joining the foundation as a volunteer?’
Her jaw clenched, making her high cheekbones even more prominent. ‘I didn’t have any paid employment prior to signing up for volunteer work.’
His eyebrows shot up. ‘None whatsoever?’
‘No.’ There was no apology in her tone, but there was plenty of antagonism in her eyes and the set of her mouth.
Gabe’s thoughts shot back to the woman he’d married and his gut roiled. Angelique had been a completely self-absorbed princess who’d never had to lift a finger in her life. The only responsibilities she’d held were in the order of making sure she saw a manicurist as soon as she chipped one of her polished fingernails.
Flicking a contemptuous look at the woman who sat before him, he likened her to his former wife. Perhaps Miss Hamilton enjoyed the prestige of her position, and the fact that she would rub shoulders with the upper echelons of society as she organised the fund-raising for the foundation. ‘You were twenty when you began your volunteer work, but with no previous employment and no tertiary education?’ he hammered.
‘That’s right,’ she confirmed stonily.
‘What did you do prior to that?’
Her eyes were still hard, but she sent him a forced smile. ‘I travelled.’
Of course she had. It was just as he thought. She’d no doubt flitted from one party spot to another—one ski slope or beach to another. And now that he’d called her to account for her idle lifestyle, she had the temerity to look affronted. Well, he’d be damned if he’d apologise for upsetting her. No way would she have been his sister’s friend. India Hamilton was more likely to have been a kindred spirit for his late wife.
‘You come from a wealthy background which afforded you the luxury of not having to seek paid employment?’
‘My family was not as wealthy as yours, Your Majesty.’
Very few families were. Still, she hadn’t answered his question.
Khalid and Marco had been told by an acquaintance of theirs from Eton days that the masquerade ball was to be one for the upper echelons of society—old money and the nouveau riche—with an exclusive and confidential guest list. India’s family must be wealthy for her to have been invited, and to afford her the rich, travelling lifestyle without having had to lift a finger to earn her own income.
‘What do your parents do?’
‘Both my parents have passed away, but they did a lot of voluntary work, too.’
Which, again, told him nothing. ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ he muttered.
She’d belonged to London’s idle, rich set. Had the money dried up when her parents had died? Now, she had access to millions of dollars annually through the foundation.
She’d lied to him at the ball in saying she’d return when she’d obviously had no intention of doing so. He was certain she was lying about her relationship with his sister. She might be lying about a whole lot of other things. Was she using her position to skim money from the foundation to fund her social life, or had she taken the position in order to find rich lovers?
‘What made you change your circumstances to obtain paid employment?’
‘My reasons are personal, however I will point out that the money I earn from the foundation is donated straight back to the charity.’
He made a mental note to have Michael check that detail.
She bit down on her lip for a second before a couple of fine lines became evident on her forehead. ‘I can’t help feeling I’m facing a rather antagonistic inquisition here and I don’t understand why.’
Damned right she was, but the reason for the antagonistic inquisition was personal and he wasn’t about to elaborate.
‘Your circumstances of going from being a volunteer to Managing Director are quite impressive.’ He allowed his tone to imply he was more suspicious than impressed.
‘There’s no mystery about it, Your Majesty.’ She stood up abruptly and flags of red appeared along her cheeks. ‘I worked my way up through the ranks in the office for five years and knew every aspect of the organisation first hand. Eventually, I received a directorship. Once I was on the board, the directors voted unanimously that I become the Managing Director,’ she told him with a touch of pride. Her mouth tightened before she challenged, ‘Tell me, Your Majesty, what degree do you think I should have obtained to be qualified for my position? In fact, what degree did you obtain to make you qualified for the running of a kingdom?’
Of all the disrespectful, impertinent…
The previously veiled antagonism was right out in the open now.
Gabriel thought about pulling her close and kissing those lush lips into silence. Shocked at his reaction, he told her coldly, ‘I was trained for my position from birth.’
The sound which emerged from her mouth couldn’t be classified as a laugh. It was more of a scoffing noise. ‘As was I,’ she said cryptically.
‘Really?’ Bullshit! ‘How is one trained from birth to run an international charity foundation?’
‘In a way that someone born to your position would never relate to nor understand.’
Gabe bit back his retort as the door opened and Michael entered, wheeling a tea trolley. The PA hesitated for a moment, probably noting the hostility in the atmosphere and wondering what he’d interrupted. Gabriel was renowned for his diplomacy, yet he stood glaring at this woman while she glared right back at him, neither of them acknowledging Michael.
No wonder his PA was perplexed. It was even difficult for Gabriel to understand or accept that this official meeting had degenerated into a barbed, personal slanging match. In all his years as monarch, he’d never behaved with such a lack of diplomacy. India Hamilton brought out a side of him that he didn’t recognise. Why?
His conscience berated him. You know very well you despise her for making a fool of you at the ball and leaving you in favour of the sultan’s son. And, you despise her because you’re still attracted to her. Even knowing she lied to you back then and she’s still lying to you, you’re attracted to her. Despite the crowd she socialises with, you still want her…
No! He didn’t still want her. He simply wanted to expose her for who she was—an individual who had no business running his late sister’s charity.
Despite the haughty way she held her head and the fire shooting from her eyes, her long, elegant fingers fidgeted with the straps of her briefcase. The brilliant sparkle of a huge, solitaire diamond ring on the ring finger of her left hand flashed at him.
Inexplicably, his chest cramped.
A diamond.
A huge diamond.
A huge diamond, but no band of gold.
So the party-loving playgirl was engaged but not yet married. The little tease must’ve found her pot of gold.
Why the hell does that matter? He asked himself. Your encounter with her was six years ago and all too brief. There are other more pressing issues here that require investigation. What does it matter if she’s engaged to be married?
It mattered.
It shouldn’t, but it did.
It mattered because she’d caused extreme turmoil in his life. In the brief hours they’d been together at the ball, she’d played with his emotions—made him believe she was something special—someone for whom it was worth abandoning all his principles of honour and getting to know in private. Hell! He’d contemplated getting to know her and reneging on his betrothal to Angelique! Worse, he hadn’t even been able to put her out of his head even when he had uttered his vows.
It also mattered because some other poor fool had obviously been taken in by her and had no idea she wasn’t what she seemed.
A muscle ticked in his cheek as he made a decision.
Never mind she was engaged.
Never mind that their encounter had been years ago.
India Hamilton needed to be taught a lesson and her true colours needed to be exposed.
The ultimate lesson would be to lure her with the pot of gold, enjoy a torrid affair with her, have her burn her bridges with her fiancé, then snatch the gold away from her and leave her out in the cold—just as she’d left him.
If he got close to her he could also find out what her motivation was behind her directorship of the Princess Eden Foundation. If there was the slightest hint of her misappropriating funds or mismanaging the charity, she’d find herself out of her position as well.
Was his plan honourable?
It was honourable to expose her to her fiancé if she was a gold-digger. Besides, he had a moral obligation to the Princess Eden Foundation to ensure it wasn’t being mismanaged.
Just for a moment, his conscience stung as he realised that the end result might be warranted, but that the vengeful motivation wasn’t principled. As for having an affair with her—there was nothing admirable about his desire.
Tension and uncertainty coiled in his gut.
This wasn’t how he behaved.
Honour was the very code he lived by and his plan wasn’t honourable. India Hamilton was a woman who was engaged to be married. There was a slight chance he was judging her on pieces of circumstantial evidence that didn’t paint the whole picture.
Possibly. But, if she’s truly in love with her fiancé and not a gold-digger, she’ll never consider having an affair. If she can be swayed away from the man she’s consented to marry by a larger fortune and the possibility of a title, I’ll be doing her fiancé a favour.
And, if she’s honest and has no hidden agenda in being Managing Director of the Princess Eden Foundation, she won’t have anything to fear.
Out of nowhere, a ruthlessness he’d never known raised its sharp blade and with one savage swipe, it struck and wounded his conscience, inciting him to indulge in a steamy affair with India and to take what he’d wanted six years ago.
His conscience lay bleeding. It stirred, pleading with him to forget his need for revenge. The glint of steel from the blade sliced again, cutting off the last remnants of his indecision. From what he knew of her, India Hamilton didn’t deserve his honour, and he would expose her true colours to the world.
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