The Playboy Prince by Nora Roberts Read Free Book Online

Too many extensions made it a risk that even a casual, coded conversation could be overheard. She’d briefly considered smuggling in a transmitter, then had rejected the notion. Transmissions could be traced. She hadn’t spent two years of her life to get to this point to see it all wiped away because of some electronic foul-up. In any case, she preferred meetings of such importance to be face-to-face.
    Two days after she arrived in Cordina, she mailed a letter. It was addressed to an old family friend in Sussex who didn’t exist. Its destination was one of Deboque’s many branches throughout Europe. If for any reason the letter was intercepted and opened, the reader would find nothing more interesting than a chatty note describing Cordina and the weather.
    Once the letter reached its destination and was decoded, it would read differently. Hannah had given her name, her rank in the organization and had requested a meeting, detailing the time, date and place. The information would be fed back to the Cordina contact. All she had to do was get there, alone.
    One week, Hannah thought once the letter was on its way. In one week she would well and truly begin what had been started so long ago. She had plenty to do to keep her busy in the meantime.
    Princess Gabriella and her family were visiting the palace that evening. The staff had been in an uproar for the better part of the day, more, Hannah guessed, because the children were descending than for any other reason. Hannah had heard that the priceless collection of Fabergé eggs was to be put out of reach.
    She spent the day quietly enough, visiting Eve and Marissa in the nursery, lunching with several members of the Historical Society, and in the lull of late afternoon, exploring the cellars for vulnerabilities.
    Now, she clipped on her pearls and prepared to join the family in the main drawing room. It would be interesting to see them all together, she thought. In that way she could judge the interactions as well as the individuals. Before too much time had passed, she had to know them all as well as she knew herself. One mistake, one bad judgment call, and all could be lost.
    “Come back here, you little demon!”
    Hannah heard a loud laugh, a thud, then rushing feet. Before she had a chance to open the door to see for herself, it burst open. Barreling through it was a small boy with a thatch of dark hair that may or may not have been combed in the last week. He gave her an amazing grin, showing more than one gap before he scooted under her bed.
    “Cachez-moi, s’il vous plaît!”
His voice was muffled by the skirt of the spread before he disappeared.
    Hannah opened her mouth again only to see Bennett filling the doorway.
    “Did you see a small, miserably mannered boy?”
    “I, ah—no,” she decided on the spot and folded her hands. “I did think I heard someone go running past. What are you—”
    “Thanks. If you see him, lock him in a closet or something.” He started off down the hall. “Dorian, you nasty little thief, you can’t hide forever.”
    Hannah walked to the door and looked out to see Bennett turning the corner before she closed it. Moving back to the bed, she crouched down and lifted the skirt. “I think it’s safe now,” Hannah told him in French.
    The dark hair poked out first, then a sturdy little body dressed in short pants and a white linen shirt that were streaked with dirt. If Hannah hadn’t already seen his picture, she would have taken him for one of the servants’ offspring. But he was royal.
    “You are English. I speak excellent English.”
    “So you do.”
    “Thank you for hiding me from my uncle.” Young Prince Dorian bowed. Though he wasn’t yet five, he executed it perfectly. “He was angry, but he doesn’t stay that way long. I’m Prince Dorian.”
    “Your Highness.” Hannah curtsied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lady Hannah Rothchild.” Then unable to resist, she bent down to his level. “What did you