The Playboy Prince's Baby - Ana Sparks Page 0,21

know what to tell his brother. The king.”

I threw that last bit in without even thinking about it. Because she might not respect the fact that I was working for a prince, but it seemed like anyone would respect the idea that I was going to be passing messages right to a king.

If a personal secretary even got to do that sort of thing.

Shit. Would a personal secretary to the prince even have access to the prince’s brother, if the prince’s brother was king? I suddenly realized that I had no idea, never having been a personal secretary to a prince before.

But the story must have flown, because the next thing I heard was the receptionist asking, “And how do I know you are who you say you are?”

Okay, another easy one.

“Ask Francisco,” I said calmly. “Tell him that Erika Saunders is on the phone and needs to know how long he’s going to be there so I can inform his brother of his whereabouts.”

“Hold, please.”

And then I got that generic hold music that seems to be the same whether you’re on the phone with a lingerie store or your bank—or, it turned out, the Chicago Police Department.

It went on long enough that I started to get really nervous that I’d done something wrong. And after that, I started to wonder what exactly the punishment was for calling the police department and lying to them about who you were.

Shit.

I was just about to hang up, having completely freaked myself out, when I heard someone come back on the line.

“Erika?”

Oh God, it was Francisco.

I hadn’t even realized how keen I was to hear his voice again—to know that he was still okay—until he said my name and everything in me literally felt like it started to melt.

“Francisco,” I returned. “Or do I have to call you Prince Francisco, now?”

“Please don’t,” he groaned, though I could tell there was a smile behind it. “I hate when people call me that. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry about getting arrested out of your apartment this morning.”

“Be sorry the cops woke me up, while you’re at it,” I said. “And sorry that you left without explaining anything. Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

There was a part of me that understood how strange this entire conversation was. I was talking to a freaking prince—who I’d slept with—and he was in jail for the fight he’d had in my bar. And I was giving him a hard time about having left my apartment with the cops without explaining things to me.

But it was what it was, honestly. And I wanted to know. Like I said, something about the guy had grabbed me, and that meant I was at least somewhat concerned about his well-being.

I shook my head and went back to paying attention to what he was saying.

“I’m afraid not,” he said.

And then he launched into an even more insane story about his brother and how they weren’t on the best of terms and how Francisco wasn’t supposed to travel by himself (probably because of all the trouble he seemed to get into, I added silently) and had raised a big red flag by firing Roger.

“The guy who wanted you to go home and go to bed?” I asked, confused. “Yeah, speaking of him. What, exactly, does he have to do with all this?”

Francisco paused for a moment. “He is my brother’s employee, and it was his job to keep me in line. So when I fired him, I assume the first thing he did was call Javier and turn me in. Javier, in turn, called the cops. And they came to your apartment to collect me.”

Well, that made sense, sort of, but it was also missing some very important steps.

“And how did they know you were at my house?” I asked. “Since I forgot to put out the sign advertising your presence.”

I heard a long sigh on the other end of the line. “Tarana is a small nation, but it is still a nation. Javier has access to resources that you don’t know even exist. Regardless, the end result is that I was arrested, and have now been reclaimed by the throne.”

“Reclaimed?” I asked, confused. “What are you, a lost bracelet?”

“In a manner of speaking,” he replied, the smile evident again. But his next words were serious. “Unfortunately, it means I’m going home. This afternoon.”

I felt my entire body go cold at those words. And yeah, I’d only known the

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