The Playboy Prince’s Pregnant American - Leslie North Page 0,1
his comfortable silk sheets. He’d shaved and dressed in this tragically dull and conservative—and uncomfortable—suit and prepared himself for what would surely be the most boring experience of his life.
Inside the boardroom, he slid into a chair at a long table that was filled with serious-looking individuals, each one studying a pile of papers in front of him or her. Marcus didn’t have papers to study. No one had bothered to send them to him.
He was about to lay his head on the table when a deep voice yanked him from his well of self-pity.
“Good morning, Prince Marcus.”
Marcus peered up into the face of Dr. James Meriter, president of the board. He stood from his chair and shook Meriter’s outstretched hand.
“Glad to be able to serve with you,” Marcus said, unsure of what to say. “This is a great project, a worthy cause.”
“Yes,” Meriter said tightly, his lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “This is a serious undertaking. We are quite committed to creating a positive space for women and children who have been through tough times.”
“Of course,” Marcus replied. “Me too… I mean I’m committed as well.”
Meriter eyed him suspiciously. “Prince Marcus, with all due respect, I have to be honest and tell you your father confided in me that it was his idea to place you on this board, a way to teach you some responsibility.”
Marcus nodded. What was Meriter getting at?
“I do hope you’re earnest in your efforts here and that you will avoid behaviors that might shed a negative light on our project.”
Marcus felt fingers of aggravation crawl up his neck and onto his face. His fists curled, and he had to stifle the urge to snap back with a sharp retort. It was galling to be scolded like a schoolboy, but throwing a tantrum over it would just confirm the man’s poor opinion of him.
“You don’t have to worry, Dr. Meriter,” Marcus replied with all the self-control he could muster. “I’m all business on this project.”
“Good,” Meriter said, but he continued to eye Marcus suspiciously. Marcus wanted to punch him. It was bad enough he was stuck on this damn project, but now he had to put up with Meriter’s arrogant ass all day?
“We’re about to get started, everyone,” Meriter announced. “Please take your seats.”
As Marcus slunk back into his chair, the office door swung opened. A striking, dark-skinned woman about his age sailed into the room.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said to Meriter. Marcus noticed she had an American accent. Sexy.
“Miss Rogers, welcome,” Meriter said. “We’re so happy to have you with us.” He looked at his watch. “Seems to me you’re right on time.”
Amen to that, Marcus thought.
“Team, I’d like to take a moment to introduce our newest consultant.” Meriter gestured to the beautiful and professional-looking woman. “Kyra Rogers is with us all the way from Atlanta, Georgia. She’s got an impressive resume in social work and has served on several strategic boards like ours to oversee the creation of crisis shelters in the states.”
“Thank you, Dr. Meriter,” Kyra said and took her seat.
Meriter rambled on for a little while after that, updating everyone on where the project stood. Marcus tried to pay attention, but it was all so dry that he noticed even the others around him couldn’t keep their attention fully focused. Marcus let his mind wander until he heard that intriguing American voice again.
“I have some ideas, including partnering with local nonprofits to receive clothing and toy donations, as well as working with the Women’s Business Stars Association to procure interviews for our residents—things that will help our residents become independent and re-establish themselves as community members once they are ready.”
Just hearing Kyra’s voice had him engrossed in a way he hadn’t been for the whole meeting. Her Southern accent exuded warmth and intelligence, and he couldn’t stop listening. Suddenly, this project had become much more interesting.
On a whim, he decided to jump into the conversation.
“I have a friend who works in fashion merchandizing,” Marcus said. Several board members looked at him as if he had three heads. He knew they weren’t taking him seriously, but he went on. “I’m sure she would be thrilled to come in and help the women put together interview attire.”
At first no one said anything, but Kyra piped up.
“That’s a fantastic idea.” She smiled broadly at him. “We do something back home like this. Our residents are given the opportunity to come into a partnering resale shop, and someone is assigned to help them choose the