A Royal Holiday (Royals of Valleria #5) by Marianne Knightly Page B

she got close enough and let her settle into his embrace. “Are you sure you want to come, darling?”
     
    She nodded against him. “Are you sure you don’t mind me there?”
     
    He tilted her chin up with his fingers. “Of course not. I just don’t want you to get hurt. She’s bound to lash out at you.”
     
    “Clearly, you’ve forgotten that I can give as good as I get.”
     
    Alex gave her a sly smile. “No, darling, that’s something I never forget.”
     
    “Stop that.”
     
    “Stop what?”
     
    “Stop being so charming. She,” Rebecca said as she gestured to the door behind them, “doesn’t deserve it.”
     
    Alex gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “No, she doesn’t.” Turning, he gestured to the agent guarding the door to open it, and he stepped inside first.
     
    Marcello had placed Portia in a small sitting room, far from the Royal Wing of the palace. The fire was lit and she was standing small and slim beside it in a fitted black dress. Her model’s figure had held up over time, though, as she turned to face him, he realized some surgical help may have been involved.
     
    Her hair was still the sharp, pin straight, raven black he remembered. Her height, barely half of Alex’s, was accentuated by a pair of very tall heels. Rebecca often wore ridiculous heels that turned him on in an instant; Portia and her heels, however, had never held that power. He had once been attracted to her, true, but had never once felt that consuming lust that Rebecca pulled from him.
     
    The corner of Portia’s mouth tilted slightly upwards in an awkward smile; he guessed that was her post-surgery version of a smile. “Alex. I’m so pleased to see you.”
     
    As she began to walk towards him, he held up one hand. “Please don’t bother coming any closer,” he said in a clipped tone. He stepped aside and Rebecca entered.
     
    “What’s she doing here?” Portia demanded.
     
    “You’ll show us both some respect, or you’ll be shown the door.”
     
    “Alex–.”
     
    “That’s His Royal Highness Prince Alexander to you,” Alex said without an ounce of guilt.
     
    “You’ve got to be kidding. We’ve made love. I’m not going to call you that. Unless,” Portia began in a sly voice, “you’d like me to call you that in a more intimate situation.”
     
    “Sit down and shut up,” Alex said, unapologetically. “Rebecca, darling, may I present Portia – well, I’ve forgotten what her last name is at the moment.”
     
    “Yes, it’s easy to forget, I’m sure,” Rebecca said to Alex, then turned to Portia’s seething face. “I could say it’s a pleasure to meet you. However, we both know that is not the case.”
     
    Alex and Rebecca took a place on the loveseat, leaving Portia to take a seat on a lone, cushy chair.
     
    “I had hoped to speak to you privately,” Portia said.
     
    “Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my fiancée. We have no secrets.”
     
    Portia crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you sure about that? Should I tell her about the times we made love? Perhaps detail the hours you spent worshipping my body?”
     
    Alex refused to respond to her baiting, but did put his hand casually on Rebecca’s thigh, for her support as well as his own. “Is that why you demanded a meeting with me? To relive old times? You cannot be naïve enough to think that I’d ever want to do that. Particularly with someone who violated my privacy so atrociously.”
     
    Portia’s posture faltered briefly, but she sat up straight again a moment later. “We were good together. I’d make a far better wife than she would,” Portia said as she gestured to Rebecca. “What does she know about proper protocol? You need a wife who was born into a higher societal class, as I was, not some common girl.”
     
    Anger glittered through Alex and, just as he was about to lash out, Rebecca intervened. “Why do you really want to sell the video, if it, in fact, exists? You