The Reckless Prince (Royal Billionaires of Mondragón Book 4) Read online

  Coach Quinn put a hand on my shoulder. “Good luck.”

  I flicked a quizzical glance at him. “Do you know something I don’t?”

  “No,” he said in a hurry, but the way he glanced at his shoes made me wonder.

  I took a deep breath and opened the doors. My brothers sat around a gigantic table in the middle that could seat a good twenty-five people. My oldest brother, Jay, sat at the head like he usually did. On one side of him sat Alvaro and Felipe, and Armando on the other. All suited up for a board meeting.

  Glaringly absent was Mateo.

  I took the seat next to Felipe, who had a nice deep tan.

  “How’s Italy?” I asked him, envious he could visit his wife’s country, check out their jewelry artisan sites, and have it count as a work trip.

  “Very nice, thank you. We just got back from the sea last week.”

  “Lucky dog.” I turned to Alvaro, who also had a nice deep tan, but his reason couldn’t be more different. “How is Lake Powell?”

  Alvaro’s eyes sparkled. “Beautiful.”

  I’d been to his wife’s desert town in Utah, and Alvaro must be truly in love if he thought that sand and sagebrush were “beautiful.” It was, in its own way, but I didn’t understand why he didn’t miss the lush green hills of Mondragón. I knew I would.

  Jay knew about green hills, spending some of his time in Kentucky, where our family still owned a premier racing stable. But he and his wife, Talia, had slowly been shifting their time to Mondragón. Especially now that they were expecting their first baby.

  “How’s that lovely wife of yours?” I asked Jay.

  “She’s having to take it easy now that she’s eight months along.” Jay’s eyes crinkled at the edges. “No horseback riding, and it’s driving her nuts.”

  Armando was smiling to himself.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Well,” came his sheepish reply, “Talia finally gave me permission to tell you all…she’s expecting too.” He grinned. “And I’m sure she’ll be complaining about not being able to ride in the Mondragón Wild Horse Race.”

  Everyone offered their congratulations coupled with their condolences on the riding restrictions. We all knew how much their wives loved the sport. We shared some small talk for a few more minutes, until Jay’s expression turned serious.

  “Thank you, everyone, for coming today at such short notice.” He looked straight at me. “You’re probably wondering why I called the meeting.”

  I didn’t say anything. I knew why he’d called the meeting. I was just waiting for him to confirm the reason. He would lecture me on why my behavior was unbecoming of a prince of Mondragón.

  Jay continued. “I got this yesterday.” He opened the leather portfolio in front of him and pulled out an envelope, tossing it my way.

  I could see its return address clearly. Some long lawyerly name of a company.

  “The fan whose arm you broke is suing our family for ten million euros.”

  I gaped at him for a moment. “Ridiculous.” I gestured with my hand. “His bandage doesn’t cost anywhere near that.”

  “He has to have his arm pinned. There will be surgery and physical therapy.” Jay’s eyes narrowed. “Diego, just shut up and own up.”

  I swallowed back the hot words I wanted to fling at my brother, but I knew he was right. If it came down to a misbehaving fan and a royal athlete with deep pockets, everyone always sided with the fan.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered.

  Jay leaned forward and clasped his hands together on the heavy table. “’I’m sorry’ isn’t enough.”

  My shoulder muscles tightened. “What would you have me do?”

  “That’s a good start. But overall, a repentant attitude would go a long way.” He tapped his fingers on the papers. “I also got a notice from La Liga. They wanted me to pass on the message to you. You’ve been suspended the next five games.”

  “Five!” I sputtered. “What, for every bone I broke in that fan’s arm?”

  Jay’s expression turned more stern. “It could’ve been worse. He could have busted his head on the concrete, or—”

  I held my hand up. “I get the picture. They could have contacted me out of courtesy,” I grumbled.

  “They said they did. By email.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Who checks their email nowadays?”

  “Someone who knows they’re in trouble?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Why didn’t they call?”

  “I have no idea!” Jay thundered. He stood and loomed over the table like he was capable of punching someone. I knew he wouldn’t shy away from that, either, if it came down to it. “So I’ve had to make a decision, as the patriarch of the family…”

  Now that Father is gone came the unspoken qualifier.

  “…we will settle the legal matter from our family fund, but you will pay it back with your own money.”

  I waved away his concern. Father’s diamond holdings in Mondragón’s mines had left me and my brothers multi-billionaires.

  Jay continued, “The only reason I’m even fighting the lawsuit is that the amount is farfetched, and I don’t want to set a costly precedent for future lawsuits.”

  “Fine. I’m all right with that.” I stood. “If there’s nothing else then, I will go and pack. I have five weeks of furlough, and I intend to spend it somewhere warm.”

  “Yes, you should pack, indeed. But not for some beach resort.”

  I looked from him to our other brothers, catching their pitying expressions. “What’s going on?”

  Jay folded his arms. “For you to rehabilitate your image, you will go to America and do a service project.”

  “America!”

  “Yes. Where you can be fairly anonymous. It will make Brigid’s job easier.”

  “So this is all about Brigid?” I taunted.

  “Well, it certainly isn’t about you.”

  I glowered.

  “Don’t be a jerk, Diego,” Felipe chimed in. “If I were you, I’d accept the lifeline Jay is offering.”

  I thought I was being reasonable. I rearranged my face so I wouldn’t show my disgust for everyone ganging up on me. “I’ll start making calls in the morning to find my service project.”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Jay said. “We have you covered.”

  “Oh?” My skin prickled with worry.

  “Through one of Talia’s friends,” he explained, “we found out about a soccer camp for children in Colorado. You will be teaching there for five weeks, until this all blows over.”

  I made an impatient sound. “Is this camp even legit?”

  “I’ve seen pictures of Sunnyridge,” Felipe crowed. “Small, quiet town. Out of media radar. Mother has gone over to check out the place.”

  “Mother!” I raised my hands in surrender. “I knew it.”

  “You’re the only one left unmarried,” Armando said, “so of course she would take the matter into her hands.”

  I scowled. “We do have one more brother—”

  “Who has practically given up his family for dead,” Jay scoffed.

  The room fell silent. I was sure we were all thinking of Mateo, who’d been estranged from the family the past five years.

  “Anyway.” Jay cleared his throat. “My point is that she wanted to be hands-on with this. Wipe that scowl off your face, Diego.”

  “Can you blame me? We all know how Mother almost derailed your romance with Talia.” I looked at the others. “Really, all of yours.”

  “Yes, I won’t deny that.” Jay rested his hands on the table. “But we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about managing a public-relations nightmare before it blows up even more. Mother just messaged me that they are amenable to you helping them out for five weeks.”

  My heart pounded. This was getting real. “Where is this again?”

  “With Lindall Soccer Training Camp. In Sunnyridge, Colorado.”

  Chapter Four

  Gemma


  The door to Jason’s office opened. I tried to act like it didn’t matter, but, as usual, Jason was cutting me out of decisions. Basically, these women had shown up and he’d kept me outside waiting while he talked to them about who-knew-what.

  Jason had a fake smile plastered on his face, which made me uneasy.

  “I’m so glad we could work out an agreement,” Princess Nina said. “We expect him to come over in a day or two. It’s a private jet, so he can fly quickly.” She made a little gesture with her shoulders. It would have been kind of charming, except that it only made her sound like one of those rich and famous housewives able to buy anything and everything. A private jet, huh?

  Him? Who was she referring to?

  Jason’s fawning expression intensified. Like a wolf licking his chops. “Good. We should have everything ready for his arrival.”

  Princess Nina glanced at me, as though wondering why I even took up space in the hallway, and nodded before walking past, followed by Brigid the Security Head.

  “See you in two days,” Brigid said. To my surprise, she was looking at me.

  “See you,” I said, lost in confusion. Once they exited the building, I turned to Jason. “Okay, what gives?”

  Jason beamed. “The princess owns the Mondragón soccer team, which is a contender for the championship in La Liga. As you know, it’s one of the most prestigious soccer leagues in the world.”

  I resisted making an impatient sound. Of course I knew that. “Okay, but why were they here?”

  “Her son is Prince Diego of the Mondragón Flames.”

  The name sounded familiar. “Diego…I’ve heard that name.”

  “He nearly jerked a fan over a railing and broke his arm.”

  “Oh, that Prince Diego.” I made a dismissive gesture. I’d heard about his antics the past couple of games. So distracting from what the league was all about. He was like any other overrated spoiled athlete. Probably made worse by his royal title. “Okay. So…?”

  “He needs a service project. We have our Disadvantaged Youth camps. Voila. A match made in heaven.”

  “What?” I was sure my cheeks turned red. Angry waves coursed through me. “You aren’t seriously hosting His Royal Hothead…here?”

  “Yes, I am.” Jason’s mouth twisted like it did when he didn’t get his way. “And I told them I’m putting you in charge of him.”

  I had no words. I was spitting mad. I wanted to claw Jason’s eyes out. To yank the bulletin board in the hallway off the wall and stomp on it. I didn’t come here to train kids so I could babysit His Royal Pain. I wanted to put my notice in right then and there.

  If it weren’t for the kids.

  I tried to keep my voice even. “I can’t believe you’re just ramming this down my throat without asking me.”

  “I own this training center.” Jason’s eyes turned cold. “I can do what I want without your permission.” But as he said that, I caught a flicker of fear.

  “Without me,” I fed his fear, “you would have nothing.”

  “You think too highly of yourself, Gemma. Go. Walk out right now, and I’ll make sure no one hires you. I have friends everywhere, and you know it.”

  I stood there with tears threatening to spill over, but I knew I couldn’t cry. Not in front of this so-called man.

  “So it’s settled, then.” His statement was not a question.

  When I didn’t answer, Jason took it to mean my agreement. “Good.”

  But my silence just meant I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  As soon as I could, I would quit this joint and start my own camps. So help me. This royal prince had better stay out of my way.

  Chapter Five

  Diego

  Brigid had arranged for a hired limo at the Denver airport, but I talked her into downscaling to an SUV. I wanted to get off on the right foot with the locals. Coming in with a fancy car could derail all that.

  It was eight o’clock in the morning. We’d be arriving in time for camp midway through the morning drills.

  A bodyguard drove me, Brigid, and another bodyguard down the interstate away from Denver. I glanced at the high-rise skyline we were leaving behind. “What’s Sunnyridge like?” I asked Brigid.

  “Small. A few restaurants. Nothing flashy.”

  I thought back to the big European cities we’d been traveling to throughout the season. “Going to a quiet place actually sounds nice.”

  “That’s what I told your Mother. It might offset other things she considered as downsides of the place.”

  “Downsides?” I frowned.

  Brigid pursed her lips. “I’d better not say anymore.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  Brigid snorted. We knew each other really well. Over the ten years she’d worked for the Mondragón royal family, she’d saved my hide. Other times, she’d threatened to tan my hide for making her job more difficult. We could speak freely to each other.

  “Sorry this is going to cut short your vacation to St. Moritz,” I teased her.

  “It’s okay. I get to sit in a lawn chair and watch you try to corral little kids. I’m sure it’ll be entertaining.”

  The thought of me presiding over kids in herd ball made me smile. “No doubt. I might be a little bored with teaching basics, but at least it’s only five weeks.”

  “Oh, I doubt you’ll be bored.”

  I cocked my head at her cryptic comment. “Mmm, why not?”

  She hesitated. “There’s a spitfire on the premises. You might have heard of her before. Gemma Garcia.”

  I turned that name over in my head. “Actually, no. Why should I?”

  “She’s probably about your age, twenty-four, and was playing pro when she was injured. She never played again after that. Anyway, she was a great defensive player.”

  “Defensive, huh?” That piqued my interest because the defense and the goalie tended to stick together.

  Brigid nodded. “She seems real prickly. The one time I met her, she hardly smiled. Too bad because she’s a stunner.”

  That was a delicious detail. “Really?”

  Brigid allowed herself a little smile. “Her scowl might be the only thing that convinced your mother she’s not going to be an, ahem, distraction to you.”

  Once we slowed into a driveway, I watched ahead in anticipation of this stunning spitfire. The paved lane led to an empty gravel parking lot. Across this acreage in the middle of nowhere stretched fields and fields of soccer turf.

  I noted a complex of buildings on the side. “Where are we lodging, Brigid?”

  “Jason—that’s the owner—said there are quarters for staff and volunteers here.”

  “Thanks so much for arranging all this. I could have done it, you know.”

  “Don’t thank me.” Brigid chuckled as she killed the engine. “It was your mother’s idea. Now, I know I told you about Ms. Spitfire. But don’t forget…your mother’s still holding a flame for you and Princess Adele.”

  “Ah,” I sighed. “The beautiful Princess Adele.”

  “Great pedigree,” Brigid rattled off. “Impeccable credentials. A rising broadcasting star but a serious journalist, so understands the working-man’s plight. To quote your mother, ‘Don’t blow it.’”

  “Agreed. Personally, I like the idea of dating Adele. Too bad the whole fan blowup scared her off.”

  “You were hardly in the position to be dating her after the brouhaha.”

  I noticed a man and woman heading our direction. The woman claimed my complete attention. Adele receded to the back of my mind.

  The woman was petite and slender with a long mane of hair gathered in a ponytail away from her face. Her deep tan rivaled my brothers’. Her exotic features hinted at Spanish ancestry.

  I whistled. “Let me guess. That’s Gemma Garcia?”

  “What did I tell you?” Brigid said with a knowing smirk.

  “She’s exquisite,” I conceded.

  “Prince Diego,” Brigid chastised me. But there was a smile in
her voice. I suspected she liked upending Mother’s well-laid plans. Especially when it came to royal romances.

  Gemma couldn’t be more of an opposite of Adele. Where Adele was blonde, Gemma was brunette. Where Adele wore lipstick, Gemma didn’t wear makeup. Not that she needed to. She’d received a generous portion of beauty genes when God was distributing it among us lowly mortals.

  She walked easily with a ball tucked under her arm. Like she did this every day. She probably did. The thought of a beautiful woman sharing my passion for the sport stirred my blood.

  Adele told me once she didn’t play sports because she didn’t want to break a nail. She may have been joking, but I gathered that she only reported sports and hadn’t played any.

  Gemma stopped and caught me observing her. A wariness came over her features. The man with her gave me a cool glance.

  I got out of the SUV, as did Brigid.

  Up close, Gemma looked even more breathtakingly lovely. Her lips were full and naturally rosy. A faint blush accented her cheekbones.

  “Hello again,” she greeted Brigid. Then she turned a quick assessing gaze onto me.

  I shut the car door and walked over to her. I put a hand out. “Diego Assante.”

  She glanced at my hand and put hers in it. My brain went into a fritz. I couldn’t think of what to say. Not while I was holding her hand and feeling that little buzz of electricity up and down my arm between us.

  She snatched her hand back as if she’d been scalded. Probably felt the same way I did. I hoped so anyway. If so, this would be…interesting.

  She studied me, her nostrils flaring like a suspicious mare. “Gemma Garcia.”

  “I know.”

  She raised surprised eyes to mine, again putting up that wall. I hadn’t meant to sound cocky or flirtatious, and I wondered if she thought I was being both.

  “I told him about you,” Brigid said, looking sheepish.

  Gemma’s forehead creased in confusion. “I’m sorry, but why would you be talking about me?”

  “I told him about your former pro career.”