CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

Calvin Clement took immediate control of the situation.

'Please excuse us for having kept you waiting, Your Highness,' he said smoothly, 'but we did not expect you to arrive so early. There was no word from your Embassy.'

'I have not been in touch with them,' the Prince said crisply. 'I came here straight from the airport.'

'But you are staying at the Embassy?'

The broad shoulders lifted. 'It would create too many problems for security if I were to stay in a hotel.'

For a moment longer he continued to make conversation with the lawyer, aware that the man wished to give his client time to compose herself. She certainly needed to learn self-control, he thought dispassionately, remembering the temper which had blazed from her eyes when he had been shown into the room. No doubt she was trying to pretend that the marriage he had come to propose to her was unwelcome; it was a fact which he found impossible to credit. Too many women had shown their eagerness to be his wife for him to believe that this particular one would turn him down. No doubt she was pretending reluctance from an ill-conceived desire to show her independence.

His glance at her, though brief, showed him she was prettier than he had expected: a slender girl with a pale skin and a mass of brown hair. Beyond that he took no notice of her appearance, his mind's eye filled with the memory of Elise as he had last seen her in the early hours of this morning, warm and sensual beside him, listening to his avowal of love even though she knew he could not offer her the marriage she had set her heart on. How desperately she had pleaded with him not to sacrifice both their lives when there was another way out for him.

'Accept Krassky's help,' she had begged. 'He will give you all the money you need.'

'I cannot put myself under an obligation to the Slovenians. If I do, my country will never be free of them.'

'They are our neighbours,' Elise had retorted, her eyes, blue as his own, glittering with tears. 'We're far closer to them culturally than we are to the rest of Europe. I don't understand why you talk as if they are our enemies.'

'They would like to be our masters, Elise. Believe me, I know them better than you do.'

'You are quoting your grandmother's opinion, not your own. She is the one who wants to keep you tied to Britain!'

'My negotiations have nothing to do with the British Government. I will be dealing with the Benton Group and they are an international organisation.'

'They are British based and British owned.' Elise insisted.

'I would rather deal with them than with Krassky.'

'Even though it means the end of our happiness?'

'I have no choice, Elise.'

At this she had broken into a storm of weeping, and though he had finally managed to comfort her with kisses, he had been achingly aware of her hurt.

And she had every right to be hurt, he thought again, as he pretended to listen to what the Englishman was saying, for until last night she had believed she would become his wife. He bit back a sigh, remembering his first sight of her—a year ago —when she had been presented to him as the young bride of the wealthy and aged Count Breen. Almost at once she had reigned supreme at the Court, and though the sudden death of her husband from a heart attack had temporarily sent her into mourning, it had also meant that Louis no longer had to hide his feelings for her.

Neither of them had guessed that when freedom came to her it would then be taken away from him; for within a few weeks of the Count's death, Louis had realised his country's dangerous economic position and had known he must make his decision to marry for the Benton money.

And now here he was, reluctantly offering his hand to this unknown girl. He forced himself to look at her again and saw she was still staring at him with unconcealed dislike.

'I hope Mr. Clement has told you the reason for my visit?' he asked formally.

'He was in the middle of doing so when you arrived,' the girl replied, and half turned away.

'Melissa!'

Calvin Clement's voice was so pained that Melissa felt a stirring of compunction. Her natural good manners came to her aid and, though still angry at being put in this embarrassing situation, she gave a slight but unmistakable curtsey to her visitor. Not that she felt like bending the knee to this haughty young man, but he was, after all, the head of his country and, as such, merited a certain deference. Indeed from what she knew of royalty, the less their importance the more store they set by protocol.

'Please forgive me for being upset, Your Highness, but I am sure you appreciate why.'

The cold look he bestowed on her showed he did not appreciate it at all. Then his lids half masked his astonishingly blue eyes and it was not longer possible to read their expression. He stepped back a pace and seated himself in a chair.

'From the remark which I could not help hearing as I came in,' he said, 'I gather you are displeased at what I have come to say?'

He had given her the opening she wanted and she took it. 'Yes, Your Highness. It would be better if you did not proceed.'

'I must do so,' he said flatly, and turned his head in the direction of the lawyer. 'I wish to speak to Miss Benton alone.'

At once Calvin Clement went to the door. 'I'll be in my office if you want me, Melissa.'

She nodded at him without smiling, and as the door closed she looked once more at the man seated opposite her. Prince Louis of Motavia. It was a fairy-tale title evoking thoughts of a Ruritanian kingdom in the best Ivor Novello and Franz Lehar tradition. Yet there was nothing fanciful about the man himself. Had she not known who he was, she would have thought him to be a mountaineer or a yachtsman, for he exuded a vitality that increased his already preposterous good looks. Preposterous, she repeated silently, noting the thick golden-blond hair atop his classical Greek features and the effeminately long lashes that framed vivid blue eyes. Though he was well over six feet in height, his leanness stopped him from being overpowering; as did the casual ease with which he moved. It indicated the perfect co-ordination of a superb athlete. Hadn't she read somewhere that he had represented his country in the last Olympic Games?

Aware that he was looking at her, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her dress and waited for him to speak, forcing herself to remember that, much as she disliked what he had come here to say, he was after all a reigning Prince and as such had to be treated with respect.

'You know why I am here.' He spoke in a light, quick tone as if he found it embarrassing to begin. 'If I could have had the opportunity of getting to know you first—of leading up to my proposition— but unfortunately time is short and a decision had to be made at once.'

'Even if there had been all the time in the world,' Melissa said, 'you would still have found this moment an unpleasant one. We are worlds apart, Your Highness.'

'Surely not in this day and age?'

'Even in this day and age,' she insisted. 'Your way of life is totally different from mine.'

'Not as much as you think. We both have heavy obligations and are duty bound to fulfil them. Yours are concerned with responsibility to your employees; mine are to my country and its people. We are neither of us free agents and must do what we have been brought up to do.'

She longed to disagree with him, but there was too much truth in what he said. Several years ago she had tried to fight her heritage and had painfully learned that it was not possible to run away from the obligations that came with being the head of a vast empire; as this man could not run away from the obligations of his kingdom. Yet how could he be willing to sell himself for it? Surely that was one sacrifice a human being should never be expected to make?

'I have no choice, Miss Benton,' he said, as though divining her thoughts. 'My Ministers believe there is vast, untapped wealth in our mountains—deposits of minerals that can restore us to a glory we haven't known for centuries. Unfortunately their excavation is costly and we do not have the money. The agreement my grandfather made with your uncle requires our family either to put up half the amount required or to offer marriage instead. I am—as you are aware—forced to comply with the latter part of the contract.'

'And offer yourself as a sacrifice?'

'I would not put it that way, Miss Benton.'

'From your expression I think you feel it!'

'You cannot expect me to be pleased at having to marry a woman I do not know.'

'It cuts both ways,' she said tartly, and then added hastily: 'Your Highness.'

He acknowledged her remark with a nod, though once again his expression implied that he could see no sacrifice in anyone having to marry him.

How arrogant he was, she thought with irritation, sitting so easily in the high-backed chair, looking at her down the length of his finely chiselled nose as if she were one of his minions put there to do his bidding.

'The whole thing is out of the question,' she said, and jumped to her feet. 'What is the total cost of the mining operation?'

'It depends whether we strike a find immediately. We will also need money to lay down roads— there is no transport in the mountains at the moment—and to build houses for the workers on the sites.'

'How much money in all?'

'A hundred million pounds—possibly more.'

Arched brows rose. It was a far larger amount than she had expected, but even so it was well within the resources of her company. Yet she could not make a commitment without discussing it with the Board, who would certainly want to see all the latest surveys that the Motavian geologists had made. She frowned. It was odd that they should suddenly decide there was sufficient exploitable minerals in the mountains when, for years, they had made no move to suggest that this was the case.

She looked at the Prince and saw he was watching her with the same curiosity she had shown towards him.

'What makes you think we won't be wasting our money?' she asked. 'Earlier surveys showed nothing.'

'There are different techniques these days. The geologists are convinced that ‑'

'Which geologists?' she intervened. 'American or English?'

'Various nationalities,' he murmured. 'Some from the East.'

'Slovenians!'

'Krassky's country borders mine,' the Prince said. 'He has shown great interest in our affairs and would willingly let us have all the finance we require.'

'I'm not sure we'd be willing to have his country as our partner!'

'You could not prevent it if you turned down my proposal. According to the agreement, I would then be free to find our share of the money from any source I liked.'

'Would, you accept their help?'

He hesitated. 'There are many reasons why I would prefer not to do so. I do not know if you are aware of the political situation in Eastern Europe?'

'I know that small countries are always scared of being overrun by big ones.'

'And we are particularly vulnerable,' he said. 'Our economic position is poor and many of my countrymen see revolution as their only solution.'

'Do you?'

Again he hesitated. 'No. And my grandmother is very much against it too.'

'You would lose your throne, of course.'

'We would not.'

He did not elaborate, but she sensed the anger in him. How much he hated having to explain himself in this way, and how he hated having to offer himself in marriage. It was a sacrificial act that could only have come from someone who had been brought up to believe that their heritage was more important than their personal pride. The determination of it appalled her. Not for one moment did she believe his assertion that if the Slovenians took over his country he would retain his throne. Like so many of his illustrious relations he would become yet another deposed and exiled monarch, living in rich obscurity. Possibly poor obscurity.

'I appreciate the honour you are doing me, Your Highness,' she said slowly, 'but I cannot marry you.'

'You are refusing me?' Astonishment made his jaw slacken. 'I never expected this.'

'I dare say most girls would jump at the chance of being a princess,' Melissa agreed. 'But titles have never rated high on my list of priorities.' She perched on the arm of the settee. 'And now you are free to raise the money anywhere you like?'

'Yes.'

'My company may still be able to help you. I would like the Board to see the latest surveys. If they show what you say they do, we will put up your share of the finance as well as our own.'

Astonishment widened his eyes. 'Would you require a larger percentage? I fear my Government would not give away any more of our rights.'

'We would be prepared to leave the agreement as it stands,' she said immediately. 'If there really are enormous mineral deposits in the mountains, we'll get back our investment a hundred times over.'

'You need have no fear of that. The land is rich in gold and uranium. There may be other finds too.'

'In that case I'm sure there won't be any problems.'

He stood up, bracing his shoulders as though they were suddenly relieved of a weight. 'For the first time in weeks, I am beginning to have renewed hope.'

'You should have come to me sooner.'

'I would have done, if I had known what your reaction would be.' He stopped, embarrassed.

'Even now I find it difficult to believe you have turned me down. My grandmother—who is very practical and forthright—was convinced you would accept my proposal.'

'What would have happened if you had already been married?' she asked curiously. 'How would you have complied with the agreement then?'

'My cousin—who is next in line to the throne— would have proposed instead.'

She burst out laughing. 'An assembly belt of Royal Princes!'

His smile was constrained and she wondered if his sense of humour was limited or if he was so full of himself that he could not tolerate any remark that smacked—however slight—of teasing.

'Thank goodness you don't have to sacrifice yourself,' she said with as much gravity as she could muster. 'So you can stop looking scared to death! '

He stood up at once, military in bearing. 'A man would not consider it a sacrifice to be married to you, Miss Benton. I am sure many men must love you.'

'Many,' she agreed. 'I have a great deal to offer!' Her smile was sly. 'But not enough for you, Your Highness.'

His eyes were shadowed. 'A happy marriage needs love.'

'And you are already in love?'

His surprise was so patent that she knew no one ever asked him such personal questions. Probably he had been brought up to believe in the Divine Right of Kings and Princes!

'There is someone I wish to marry,' he murmured, 'but until this moment I had not thought it possible.'

'Is she Motavian?'

'Of course.'

His reply—terse and simple—put Melissa in her place. Who else but a compatriot would be considered suitable to take the Motavian throne beside him! Or didn't princesses have thrones of their own?

'How soon can you let me have the geological reports, Your Highness?'

'I will get them for you at once. My equerry has them.'

He went into the hall and she noticed he did not close the door behind. Obviously he was used to having doors opened and shut for him. She heard his voice, low and lilting as he spoke in a language she did not understand, then he returned with a short plump man, dapper in the uniform of a Major.

'Miss Benton, I would like to present my equerry, Major Alexi Vernov.'

Melissa's hand was bowed over, while small black eyes twinkled into hers, making her realise how cold Prince Louis's blue eyes had been—and still were—she thought as she gazed into their cool depths, knowing that if a girl's face was ever close enough to be reflected in them, it would be a Motavian one.

Major Vernov took several documents from a briefcase and handed them to her, together with a typed report which a quick glance showed her was written in Motavian, though she saw an English translation appended to it.

'His Royal Highness will be staying at our Embassy,' the Major said. 'If you will tell us when it is convenient for us to call upon you again...

'I will telephone you. It depends how quickly I can put this before my directors.'

'His Highness appreciates that.'

Melissa glanced at Prince Louis. He barely seemed to be listening to the conversation, and there was a withdrawn expression on his face, as though now his equerry was here he had abandoned the pretence of maintaining a rapport with someone he considered in a world outside of his own.

With a little flash of irritability she said: 'I will try to get Board approval, but I hope you realise that nothing is a hundred per cent certain?'

Only then did Prince Louis give her his full attention again. 'From what you said earlier I thought it was a fait accompli.'

'Not quite. I can only suggest. I cannot give orders to my directors.'

'I see.' He gave a bow. 'We will await your call, Miss Benton.' He strode out, the equerry hurrying ahead to open the door for him.

Melissa followed more slowly, and reached the front door in time to see the two men disappear into the back of a dark, discreet limousine. Its side and rear windows were of tinted glass, but the smoky hue only partially dimmed the startling blond of Prince Louis's hair, and a picture of him remained with her as she returned to the drawing room and telephoned Calvin Clement's office to say she was coming to see him.

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