Free Waking Up in Vegas by Romy Sommer Page B

switched off his bloody phone.
    He knew where she worked. If he’d truly cared he could have told her face-to-face before he left, but no, he’d left a three line note and cash.
    She removed the cash and flicked through it. Enough for a plane ticket out of here. She didn’t really care where she was going as long as it was far away from Vegas. There were memories here now that she didn’t want to re-visit.
    There was still something stuck inside the envelope. She gave it a shake and Max’s ring fell out onto her palm. A keepsake, how nice. At least the ring made her feel a little less like a whore being paid for services rendered.
    She rolled the ring over and over between her fingers. She’d keep it. She’d keep it real close where it could serve as a reminder of what happened when you let people close, when you let them into your heart.
    She was never going to be suckered into that again.
    Stuffing the cash back into the envelope, she grabbed the key and headed for the door. It was after normal working hours but in this town there was guaranteed to be a travel agent somewhere who could advise her how far away she could get on three thousand dollars.
    There was no point in looking back. It was time to move forward.

Chapter Five
    Max’s gaze drifted out the tall arched windows of the council room. Rain battered against the windows. God, but he missed the clear blue Californian sky.
    He refused to think of the other things he missed. He’d only drive himself crazy.
    “If that’s all gentlemen, then I’ll see you all at the coronation?” Albert’s dry voice cut through the fog of his thoughts. The other members of the cabinet murmured their assent and the meeting drew to a close. Papers rustled and chairs scraped on the hardwood floors.
    Max stretched and rose from his chair, knotted muscles protesting, and turned to Albert, seated on his right. “May I have a private word?”
    “Of course, Your Highness.”
    He still wasn’t used to being addressed this way. ‘Your Highness’ had been his father. In Napa, even the migrant farm workers had called him Max. ‘Your Highness’ made him feel old. He felt old a lot these days.
    “I want to make a slight change to the coronation plans.”
    Albert nodded, not quite able to hide his look of resignation. If he’d hoped Max would be a more pliable Arch Duke than Rik, he’d been sorely mistaken. In the two months they’d worked side by side, or more appropriately head to head, he’d had plenty of time to learn that while Max had not been raised to be the ruling Prince, he had strong ideas on what he wanted and a stubborn insistence on getting it.
    And what Max wanted right now, he knew Albert wasn’t going to like. “I’ve decided that the coronation should be held in Waldburg.”
    Albert choked. “You can’t be serious. Neustadt is our capital. The coronations always take place in the cathedral here.”
    “Not always.” Max smothered a smile. No-one knew their country’s history better than he did. They were more than bedtime tales for him. These were the stories of his ancestors. “Waldburg was the seat of Westerwald’s power for a thousand years. Until the nineteenth century, every coronation was held in the castle at Waldburg. I want to return to that tradition.”
    “But the church there will never hold all the dignitaries we’ve invited. And what about the public who will want to be there to celebrate the day?”
    He’d grown up in the small medieval walled town on the banks of the Wester River. Everyone there knew him and those were the people he wanted around him when he pledged his life away, not a bunch of strangers. “There’ll be TV cameras broadcasting live. And those people who want to can travel to Waldburg. We’ll lay on buses and boats.”
    Albert pressed his lips together. “I think this is a very bad idea. Your coronation is mere weeks away and the arrangements have all been made.”
    “Then unmake them.” Max drew in a deep