Prince's Proposition (The Exiled Royals #3) by Ivy Iverson Page A

it?”
    “It’s a business arrangement, Raymond. Don’t be daft enough to think it means any more than it does,” Xavier said. His cousin had no right to judge him this way. Or psycho-analyze him. “Who are you, Dr. Phil?”
    His cousin shook his head and started into a much faster run. “No, but I think I could be. Think about what I’m telling you, Xavier. Someday, you’re going to look back and realize what you thought meant success was nothing but a smokescreen for what’s really important.”
    And with that, he started to fully race off, a dot on the growing horizon.
     

Chapter Nine
     
    The heat was stifling but Paula didn’t allow it to affect her mission to get through this evening, and keep Syliva McCorkle happy as she and Xavier attended the mass soiree at her private estate in Mumbai.
    Dressed in a flowy sari of bright orange, she resolved to look cool even if the air was as humid as a shower room. She’d even put a veil over her hair which she’d done up in a bun for the event.
    Xavier, dressed in a light seersucker suit, looked like he’d be at home with a mint julep or bit of bourbon in his hand. Smiling up at Xavier, she slipped her arm through his crooked elbow. “You’re amazing.”
    He grinned back at her, that ego and bravado still evident on his face. To be fair, it wasn’t bravado if you could back it up, and Xavier had been everything so far they could have hoped for in a spokesman and fundraiser.
    He was the miracle she’d needed and, okay, maybe his advice and coaching had put her in the right mindset to apply her business mind even more thoroughly and with laser precision to the needs of Lillian’s Fund .
    “I know I’m amazing, P, but what brought out the inevitable honesty from you?”
     
     
    “Because this last month has been everything that Lillian’s Fund needed… Hell that I needed. I mean, you still work eighteen hour days but I’m glad you turned that energy to my side. Mrs. McCorkle’s yearly gift has kept us afloat the last few years.  But because of your help with wining and dining her here in India, what she gives us will help us to open an actual therapy center. Think of the cancer suffers and their families who will benefit from it! It will really make a change in their lives.” She squeezed his arm. “Thank you.”
    “Uh huh.” He sighed as he fished out the embossed invitations for the guard at the gatehouse of Sylvia McCorkle’s estate. The guard read through them and gave them both a curt nod, then let them in with a wave and a polite, “Have a great time!”
    Paula nodded but looked back to Xavier, who seemed to have a pall cast over him. How could giving him a genuine compliment leave him feeling so upset? That confused her. “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”
    “I just wish that you’d take a chance on me again, Paula…on us . I can bring that passion to us again, and I can be what you need.”
    “No, you’re a great businessman, and that’s what I need. But what I don’t need are canceled dates and you making more eye contact with a phone screen than with me. What I need is the efficiency.”
    “I suppose,” he said, pulling out of her grasp.
    Sadness swept over her, and the warmth she’d felt for him suddenly disappearing. She watched as he moved away across the expansive back lawn, winding between the dowagers and high society of India easily, with that royal fluidity and grace that defined him. She started after him, then stopped herself. Her focus couldn’t be on Xavier. It had to be on Sylvia.
    Sighing, Paula turned and started looking for the widow.
    She shouldn’t have bothered trying to squint into the crowd. Sylvia always knew how to make an entrance. So when she came in literally riding a massive Asian elephant---one festooned in large golden chains and other opulent decorations---Paula wasn’t surprised.
    Sylvia was too genuine and forthright to hate and, yes, the woman had managed to outlive two husbands and was