The Royal Elite: Mattias (2 page)

No, Mattias wouldn't ever lead any of the Morano daughters on. The first four were now happily married with children of their own, leaving Antonia the final one to find a husband. She'd made no secret of her interest in him over the years, expressing her willingness to get to know him better. Mattias avoided situations that brought them too close and had never pursued a real date, much to her chagrin.

It didn't mean he couldn't appreciate her spunk and sense of caustic humor.

“That's a good thing, because if my father found out—”

“He would approve,” Mattias interrupted. He was rewarded with Antonia's rich, throaty laugh.

“All right, all right. I'll give you that. He would,” she said, dark eyes sparkling with easy humor. A moment later, her gaze ticked past Mattias's shoulder, coming to rest on someone or something behind him.

Twisting at the shoulder, Mattias glanced back. He was met with the vision of the blonde he'd bedded the night before, exquisitely attired in a slinky dress of black with an expectant look on her face.

“Good evening, Prince Mattias,” the blonde cooed, coming to a stop at Mattias's elbow. She smiled at him, then at Antonia.

Mattias had the distinct impression that the women were sizing each other up like cats do before a squabble breaks out. He didn't bother with introductions. Antonia and Miss Bouchard of the Bouchard media empire were well acquainted.

“I'll be down shortly and then we'll have the dance I promised you, hm?” Mattias said to Katrina, indicating with the suggestion that he wanted a little more time to say his goodbyes to their hostess.

“Of course. Miss Morano.” Katrina crooned a farewell to Antonia, kissed Mattias possessively on the cheek, and sashayed to the stairwell. She descended as if she knew Mattias couldn't take his eyes off the exposed length of her spine in the very revealing dress.

When he met Antonia's gaze again, Mattias arched a brow at the blatant look of disbelief on her face. “Yes?”

“Really?” Antonia demanded, as if the mere thought of Mattias with the blonde was an affront.

As much as he enjoyed Antonia's company, Mattias wasn't about to allow her—or any woman—to pass judgment on who he did and did not sleep with.

“Really. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” He withdrew his hands from his pockets and stepped past for the stairwell.

“Mattias, I just think you can do better,” Antonia said with a brazen lift of her chin. One hand lifted to flip back a long length of hair from her shoulder, dark eyes steady on the Prince.

Mattias paused to look back, mouth quirked at the corners. He admired Antonia's boldness, despite himself. “And when I want to, I will.”

“
Oh,
” Antonia said when she realized it wasn't a serious relationship but more of
a one night stand scenario.

Mattias dropped the woman a wink and continued to the main floor. The large great room stretched an impossible distance, the space filled with elegantly clad bodies. Now that he was down here among them, Mattias put on his game face. Keeping a lookout for Miss Astbury, he greeted debutantes and the well-to-do with quiet greetings and firm handshakes. A few women who caught his eye received the brush of his lips across their delicate knuckles. He knew who the single ones were and took greater pains to give them a little more attention than the others.

Miss Bouchard might have been the flavor last evening, but that didn't mean she had to be this one, too.

A light touch to his elbow brought Mattias's attention swinging around. Tray of tumblers and wine glasses balanced on a palm, the waiter asked, “Drink, Señor?”

“Gracias,” Mattias said, dropping the equivalent to a twenty dollar bill down next to the tumbler he claimed for his own. He didn't intend to actually drink the contents, but he pretended just the same. Mattias always took care when and where he accepted drinks. Open, unprotected glasses on the waitstaff's tray were susceptible to all manner of tampering. Mattias preferred to have his liquor poured from a bottle he could see, or delivered from one of his trusted security members. Appearances were everything at events like this, however, so he played the game along with everyone else.

The waiter, attired like all the other waitstaff in black slacks, white button down and skinny black tie, bowed his head and moved on.

“It's a good thing I can anticipate your every move,” Leander said from his other side, producing a tumbler of amber liquid that he offered over with a wry expression.

Mattias exchanged the glasses in the guise of shaking hands. Whatever liquor the tumbler contained, Mattias could be positive it wasn't poisoned or tainted with sedative. “Thank you. As ever, you have impeccable timing.”

“Of course I do.”
Leander set Mattias's original glass back down on a passing waitresses tray. Only someone with an eagle eye who'd been watching the entire interaction would know one drink had been traded for another.

“By the way. I haven't located Miss Astbury yet. Do you have any idea where she might be?” Mattias asked before the conversation could derail further.

Leander gestured with his chin, a favorite habit, toward the opposite side of the room. Many people stood between their position and the area Leander indicated.

It took Mattias three tries to find the woman he thought Leander meant. She blended so well with the background, Mattias kept passing her over. Standing with her head bowed, the tawny haired woman appeared either excruciatingly shy or suffering some sort of extreme embarrassment. She looked nothing like the vivacious woman depicted in the photos on Leander's cell phone. Dressed in a cocktail gown with a white halter style top and knee length black skirt, Alannah Astbury appeared to do everything in her power
not
to be noticed.

“Are you sure?” Mattias asked, switching back to his native tongue.

“Absolutely. It took me a while the first time I went looking because she doesn't resemble the woman in the photos much. Either she's dodging an ex-lover who also happens to be here, or the public image her family presents of her is vastly altered from reality,” Leander replied in the same language.

Mattias grunted, perplexed.
“Does she have a bodyguard?”

“Just one that I can tell. He's the brooding fellow about ten feet to her left.”

Mattias picked out the bodyguard a moment later after a shift in the crowd. Standing just under six foot, with dark hair and even features, the man looked capable and unfriendly.

“All right. I'm going to see if she's amenable to conversation. It'll be easier to watch her if I can stay close.” Mattias tipped back a swallow of the potent liquor, then handed the tumbler to Leander.

“Good luck.” Leander accepted the glass and disappeared into the crowd.

Mattias angled his way through the throng of guests. Once or twice he stopped to greet this man or that woman, careful not to linger too long. Otherwise, he might find himself cornered into topics that he couldn't easily extract himself from.

The familiar scent of floral perfume and a brush of a body against his back informed Mattias well before Katrina Bouchard spoke near his ear that he had company.

“You seem to have gotten lost, Prince Mattias. And you
did
promise me a dance,” Katrina reminded him.

Mattias stopped ten feet from Alannah, well short of his goal, and faced Katrina. Rather than give her reason to pout and sulk, he spun the blonde into his arms. The sooner he got their dance over with, the sooner he would be free to see to business.

“You're distracted this evening,” Katrina said, using a turn to move her body closer.

“Yes, I am. There are several people I've arranged to speak with during my stay and I was hoping to catch up with at least one of them tonight.” Mattias chose a version of the truth to present to Katrina. He really didn't owe her anything, but he made it a point to be honest when he could.

Katrina smoothed a fingertip coyly around the shell of his ear. “And what about later?”

Mattias hadn't had enough time yet to decide whether he would be taking the blonde back to his bed for a third time. She was willing, however, so he decided not to close the avenue off completely. “I'll tell you what. Once I'm through with business, then we'll see.”

“Excellent. They're having a big breakfast in the morning on the south terrace. You should join me.” Katrina put her mouth close to the corner of Mattias's. “Or, we can just go together after we wake up.”

“Why don't we decide that in the morning.” Mattias elegantly brought their dance to an end. Lifting her fingers, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles.

“I'll look for you later, lover,” Katrina whispered. Her eyes followed his every move.

Mattias departed from Katrina after walking her to the edge of the dance floor. Giving the edge of his tuxedo jacket a tug to straighten it across his shoulders, Mattias resumed his trek toward his original destination, slicing his way through the crowd with sleek twists and turns of his body. Arriving at the place Alannah had been, Mattias found nothing but empty space. Miss Astbury was gone.

Concern flickered across Mattias's brow. He didn't see Miss Astbury in the immediate vicinity, and her bodyguard wasn't standing where he had been ten short minutes before.

“You just missed her. She went out onto the terrace,” Leander said near Mattias's ear. “Her bodyguard disappeared, so I'm going to take the second entrance and lurk around the shadows as back up.”

“Excellent.” Mattias split off from Leander, taking the opposite direction toward a set of double doors. There was no time to inquire what the contact had to say.

Stepping onto the balcony, Mattias scanned the length, taking note of all the niches and crevices a person might hide. Concrete urns and other heavy pots filled with foliage sat between clusters of outdoor seating, offering a modicum of privacy to those who wished it. Leander was there somewhere, making himself invisible in the darkness.

Muggy and humid, the night promised rain in the near future.

A lone figure stood at the thick stone railing overlooking an acre of manicured gardens. Mattias had no trouble discerning Miss Astbury even in the weak spill of light from the ballroom behind him. The white of her top practically glowed against the black landscape, a beacon for all to see.

Closing the distance at a sedate pace, Mattias arrived at the railing a few feet away. In periphery, he saw Miss Astbury glance his way, then duck her head in a clear attempt to dissuade attention. She even scooted down a few inches.

“If I'm not mistaken, that is an elephant shaped hedge down there,” Mattias said, hoping to initiate dialogue.

“Mhm.”

Mattias arched his brows at the mumbled response. He tried again. “And a giraffe, too.”

Alannah looked the other direction, the styled layers of her hair obscuring her profile.

Well then. Mattias eased closer by a half foot, careful not to scuff his shoes on the concrete. Alerting her to his movements might result in total retreat. “Do you think that's a lion next to the giraffe?”

“It could be. Then again, it could be a really big dog. Perhaps you should go down and find out.”

Mattias accustomed himself to the pretty Australian accent and the warm timbre of her voice. Feminine but not
too
feminine. Any other time, he might have been amused at the cautious way she tried to get rid of him.

“Miss Astbury, is that correct?” he asked, attempting a more direct route into her good graces.

Alannah stiffened, then faced him. “Yes, yes, you're correct. I'm Alannah. And you are...?”

Struck by the beauty of her skin—flawless, like porcelain—Mattias, in a distracted voice, said, “I'm Mattias--”

With a sudden lift of her hand, Alannah covered her lips with three fingers, unable to muffle the surprised, “Oh!” that slipped out between them.

Not only did she have striking skin, Miss Astbury had striking eyes to match. Gray like ashes, but lighter. Mattias observed the way her expression shifted from wary curiosity to recognition.

“I didn't recognize you out here in the dark, forgive me,” she said a moment later.

“No apologies necessary. Mattias Ahtissari, at your service.” He extended a hand, uncertain whether the woman would deign to return the gesture.

Alannah glanced at his hand, then slid hers into his for a quick two-pump shake. “Miss Alannah Astbury, as you're already aware. Pleased to meet you, your Highness.”

Mattias laughed quietly and brought her hand to his mouth for a warm press of his lips to her knuckles. She snatched her fingers back before his mouth quite made contact. “I...it's just Mattias.”

Was that a snicker somewhere in the gloom? Mattias refused to glance that direction. Leander was getting an eyeful and an earful.

“Just Mattias, then.” Alannah cleared her throat and looked out over the balcony toward the gardens. She rocked forward and back on her high heels, a faint motion that nevertheless made her hair settle more closely around her features. Using a thumb, she adjusted the halter style strap of her top, giving Mattias a glimpse of her collarbone.

“Would you like to get a closer view of the gardens? I'm sure Mister Morano wouldn't mind his guests appreciating what he's worked so hard to make pleasant.” And it would allow him to remain in her presence, Mattias thought, which was his main goal. It didn't appear anyone else was out here with her besides himself and Leander, but he would feel better if the woman made the eventual transition back to the house under his care.

“Miss Astbury, there you are,” a masculine voice said.

Mattias snapped a look toward the double doors, sizing up Alannah's bodyguard as the man closed the distance with quick strides. He appeared determined to steer Miss Astbury back inside, going so far as to scoop an arm around her back as a guide.

“Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I stepped out for a moment.” Alannah drifted away from the banister. She glanced at Mattias. “Perhaps another time for the gardens.”