Summer Fling with a Prince

by Katrina Cudmore

  A single small diamond around her neck swung as she waited for his answer. The top three buttons of her yellow dress were undone, her pale yellow bra beneath visible. Her perfume hadn’t changed—it was still that light, floral scent. He inhaled an irritated breath, admitting to himself that ever since Luis’s wedding he had been subconsciously keeping tabs on her life, alert to any conversations Kara and Alice had about her, lingering over the media reporting of her split with her ex, newsworthy because he was a famous and much in demand TV historian.

  Frowning, as though wondering just when he’d answer her question, she pushed her long brown hair back behind one ear. It was the same light chestnut colour as her eyes. Her nose was pert, her lips full. Her skin lightly tanned. At Luis and Alice’s wedding she had worn a gold sequinned bridesmaid dress that emphasised the swell of her breasts, the curve of her narrow waist, and when she had walked down the aisle, her hair tied up, tears in her eyes despite her wide smile, he had been unable to tear his gaze away from her. She had a soft, gentle beauty that was utterly captivating. He had told himself that he followed any news on Toni with just the same interest and concern he would have for anyone who had an association with the family. But some nights, alone in the silence of his finca, the idea of contacting her would bubble inside of him...but that idea had never become more than a fleeting thought, as he had never been sure of what purpose it would serve, and anyway, the complications of contacting her were too great, considering her ties with both of his sisters-in-law.

  But now she was back in his life...and he wanted to end all of this. Now. He had zero interest in talking about his life...or sharing his home and privacy with anyone.

  But Kara had pleaded with him to do this interview and deep down he knew it was the right thing to do for the charity. He would take part in the interview but he would control it at all times. And shut it down whenever he wanted to. He would only talk about the things he was comfortable discussing—his sporting and financial careers. There was plenty of material and life lessons in both. Enough to fill the hour-long podcast. ‘Before we start I think I should make it clear that I’m not given to overthinking or self-inspection—I will answer your questions but please don’t expect any great insights.’

  She sat down, still frowning. Went to speak, stopped, studied him some more, but then with the slightest of shrugs said, ‘How about we just give it a go? People are sometimes surprised at how much they learn about themselves by taking part in the interview.’

  He made a disbelieving sound. Her response was yet another shrug and with a hopeful smile she said, ‘Here we go,’ before pressing the ‘record’ button.

  ‘Hi and welcome back to the YA Together, Person Unknown podcast, where we meet the person behind the fame and explore their life lessons. I’m your host, Toni Clarke.

  ‘So guys, this week I am beyond thrilled with who I’m getting to interview. But before I introduce you, let me give you some teasers to see if you can work out who it is. I’m on a Mediterranean island that I reckon should be famous for its three Bs: beauty, beaches and banging cocktails. Right now, I’m sitting in the coolest office I have ever visited, a brilliant blue summer sky visible out the window, and we’re surrounded by art galleries and bars and restaurants. It’s Friday evening and people are out partying. The vibe here is amazing. And across from me is my interviewee. An international gold medallist and now successful CEO. I think it’s fair to say that we all know of him, but not many of us know him, the real man. Oh, and did I mention that he’s also royalty? Can you guess who it is? Yes, it’s Prince Ivo of Monrosa. Welcome to my podcast, Your Highness.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Her style was upbeat, intimately chatty, and he guessed well suited to her young audience. It left him dreading what was to come. He had to hand it to Kara. She was a master at picking her moments in persuading people to commit to things. Last night she had brought Gabriela to visit him in his apartment in the palace, on the pretence of discussing his role as Gabriela’s godfather at her christening on Sunday. But as he held Gabriela, terrified but in awe of just how perfect every tiny detail of her was, Kara had asked him once again to take part in this podcast, arguing that people would be inspired by the struggles he had faced to achieve sporting success. For a while he had wavered, knowing he should provide more support to the charity, given that he hadn’t been able to commit fully to his role as its ambassador in recent years as he’d built up the business and taken over his role as special advisor to the treasury, at Edwin’s request. But then Kara had admitted that it would entail the interviewer, Toni Clarke, moving in with him for four days. The thought of being all alone with the beautiful Toni Clarke for four days had been a tempting proposition...but his home was his sanctuary. Sharing that with anyone was a step too far. He had been about to say no but then Gabriela had started to cry. And, as she paced his apartment with a fretful Gabriela, Kara had described her concern for Toni.

  At Luis’s wedding, Toni had been an exhausting, exuberant and excitable chatterbox. But when they had danced he had seen a different side to her. A more vulnerable, troubled side.

  ‘Of course, this isn’t the first time that we’ve met—as some of you know, my best friend is Alice O’Connor, who is married to Prince Luis. When they married, I was bridesmaid and Prince Ivo the best man.’ She met his eyes, her cheeks growing warm. ‘The wedding day was incredible, wasn’t it? But we didn’t get to spend much time getting acquainted.’

  ‘No.’

  She waited for him to say something else. But what was he supposed to say? That in fact when they had danced, thrown by her silence, he had attempted to make conversation with her and asked her if she was enjoying herself. She had answered, ‘I’m trying to,’ and her eyes had held such a sadness that he had without thought murmured, ‘Everything will be okay.’ He had followed her when she had bolted away. Horrified that he had somehow upset her. And when he had apologised out in the palace gardens, she had sobbed, soaking his shirtfront in the process. Not able to get any sense from her what the matter was and at a loss how to help her, he had simply held her until she said she needed to go and call her boyfriend. He hadn’t realised that she was in a relationship given that she didn’t have a partner attend the wedding with her.

  ‘It was an emotional day. Gosh, I think I cried more in that one day than I did in my entire life. They were all tears of joy of course. Weddings are such moving affairs and Alice was such a beautiful bride.’ Pausing to draw a deep breath as though to say that drew a line on what had happened between them at the wedding, she tilted her head to the side and continued, ‘You’re variously described as being the youngest of the three Monrosian Royal Princes and an international rower. But if you were to describe yourself, what would you say?’

  See, it was questions like this that he hated. How was he supposed to answer it?

  I keep to myself. I don’t overthink things. I get on with life and I don’t spend too much time navel-gazing.

  ‘I like to work hard.’

  ‘And outside of work?’

  ‘I have my royal duties and in particular my advisory role to the Treasury.’

  Shifting back in her chair, she frowned and silence fell between them. Raúl, the Director of Royal Communications, had attempted several times to counsel him on the art of interviews, but Ivo couldn’t see what was wrong with a blunt approach. It avoided wasting time. He had zero interest in the personal lives of others, so he never understood why anyone would have an interest in his.

  ‘Your company Pacolore Investments has become incredibly successful in a very short space of time. What do you think is behind that success?’

  At last. A question he was comfortable answering. ‘I set up Pacolore before I retired from rowing, so I had a clear view of what my business plan would be from the very start. But the key I believe to our success is that I recruit a wide diversity of people. I want people who think differently, who come from di
fferent backgrounds and life experiences. We see opportunities that other investment companies miss.’

  ‘Where does that policy come from?’

  He knew the odds stacked against those who operated outside the usual social norms and expectations. It was a bugbear of his that the confident talkers, those from a certain background, those who followed a conventional path in life were snapped up by employers. Those who were different left behind. Which was why he never followed the normal process of interviewing but instead made his recruitment decisions based on past performance and their completion of an online skills assessment. He judged people on their actual skills, not on how well they could sell themselves. ‘I studied Financial Maths at university and after graduating I heard about how some of my brightest classmates didn’t thrive in the more conventional investment firms—if they managed to get in the door, many didn’t even get beyond the interview stage. I ran Pacolore for many years on my own while I rowed, investing my own money, making mistakes and learning from them. Through that work, I joined online investment discussion groups and I realised the wealth of talent out there...hugely intelligent and lateral-thinking people who just because of the fact that they didn’t go to the right university or lived on the other side of the world, never got the opportunity to work in an investment firm. I was determined to recruit as diverse a group as possible. I like difference.’

  Her expression intrigued, she asked, ‘Why?’

  ‘Because it is those who are different, who don’t fit the mould, who often live on the periphery of groups and wider society, who are the true innovators and change makers.’

  ‘Do you see yourself as being different?’

  He heard it in her tone, the suggestion that he couldn’t be different. How could a person born into such privilege, class themselves as being outside the norm? But in truth he had always felt separate from those around him. ‘In ways.’

  She waited for him to expand, her expression growing more quizzical but when she grew tired of waiting, she asked, ‘Before university, where did you go to school? What was your childhood like?’

  Confusing and lonely. Terrifying at times. Not that he’d admit that to anyone. ‘I was sent to boarding school in England when I was ten.’

  ‘Did you like it there?’

  ‘I grew to like it.’

  Her eyes took on a softness that made him shift in his seat. ‘You went to boarding soon after your mother, Princess Cristina, died. It must have been a tough time for you.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  IVO PUSHED BACK in his chair. ‘I don’t remember a lot about that time.’ He waited in dread for her to ask about his mother, to describe her, to talk about her death. It was well documented in the press that he was alone with her when she died. Would she ask him to recall that day and the nightmare that unravelled in the days that followed?

  His father’s initial shock at her death had almost instantly morphed into fury—he had raged against the stable staff, the bodyguards who hadn’t accompanied them on the trek even though he knew his mother always insisted on trekking with the horses alone. Sick with guilt, unable to process what had happened, Ivo had tried to tell his father how he had begged her to go riding with him even though she had said she wasn’t feeling well, how he panicked and ran for help when he should have stayed with her so that she didn’t die alone, but his father had shut him down, too angry to listen. In his grief, Ivo had ached for the safety and comfort of his family but it was as though everything he knew and understood in his life had imploded. His family had changed out of all recognition. His father had been furious with the world, Edwin constantly preoccupied and trying to act like a buffer against that anger, while Luis had found refuge with his friends, disappearing from the palace for days on end. His mother had understood him, his innate quietness and need for time alone, but when she had died that understanding had disappeared from his life and, though he had so desperately wanted privacy to grieve, had wanted to keep a low profile throughout her state funeral, his father had insisted he play a central role in the proceedings. And as he faced the other mourners’ stares he had wanted so desperately to cry himself but knew to do so would be unacceptable. To survive he had closed himself off not only from the outside world but also from his own family. And that detachment had become even more necessary when he had been thrown into the bewildering world of boarding school, where there was no escape from others, where the only way to survive was to single-mindedly pursue the challenge of getting onto the school’s first rowing eight, where he had little time to think. Rowing had given his life structure...and the perfect excuse to avoid the emotional entanglement of friendships. The rowing team had accepted him, making no demands on him other than wanting his physical skills and unrelenting drive to win. They never questioned his silence. Unlike his own family, who could never hide their bafflement and disappointment with him. He never measured up to what they thought he should be. They never accepted that he had little interest in socialising, in indulging in small talk and that he abhorred being in the limelight.

  But instead of asking any further questions Toni pointed to the microphone and said, ‘I need you to stay close to the mike. I should have explained that before we started. And don’t worry about any of these asides, I can edit them out...and of course I will edit out any questions or answers you aren’t happy with. This is your podcast... I won’t release anything you or the Palace aren’t happy with.’ Pausing, she gave him a quick smile before asking, ‘What are your ambitions for the future?’

  Her change of tack away from the topic of his mother and childhood was deliberate. Why had she done that? A lifetime of knowing people wished you to be different had made him wary of what lay behind even the most innocuous of actions. His father’s bribes and threats when he spent too long in his bedroom. The summer camps he had been forced to attend, the camp leaders watching his every move, no doubt under instruction to do so by his father. Edwin’s poorly disguised suggestions that he socialise more. Luis’s visits to him at university and later on at rowing training camps, insisting they go to the most crowded and noisiest bars and clubs in town. Luis, who thrived on chaos, could never fathom his preference for more private bars and restaurants. ‘For the immediate future I want to embed Pacolore’s success.’

  ‘You don’t want to expand the business?’

  ‘Perhaps, but now isn’t the time.’

  ‘I had thought, given how successful you have been, you’d be keen to have the business grow. Are you a risk-taker or cautious by nature?’

  ‘I’m a calculated risk-taker. And rapid growth isn’t my motivator.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘Obviously a certain level of financial gain is paramount, but it’s the analysis, reading the markets and making the right call that gives me the greatest buzz. I like seeing my team thrive and develop.’

  She nodded several times as though considering his answer, before she asked, ‘And what are your ambitions for your private life?’

  ‘In what sense?’

  For a moment, a shadow of annoyance flittered in her eyes. If she was hoping for a free-flowing conversation she was interviewing the wrong person. With a shrug, as though it weren’t a significant question and she didn’t particularly care what his answer would be, she asked, ‘Do you want to marry? Have children?’

  ‘I have no plans to do so.’

  ‘Are you in a relationship now?’

  He had dated in the past, but it never worked out. He wasn’t blind to the fact that women were attracted to him because they thought he offered a world of glamour and success. But few were prepared to accept the reality. That he worked as hard as he had trained as a rower, that he had no interest in partying or having a high profile. He inhaled a deep breath, now irritated with this questioning. ‘No, I’m not in a relationship.’ He glanced out into the main office. All of the others had left for the weekend. They were now alone. A
nd would be until Sunday when they travelled to Gabriela’s christening. He really did not know if he could do this.

  ‘Why have you agreed to this interview?’ The tone of her question was curious but, meeting her gaze, he saw uncertainty and doubt. She leant towards him, resting an arm on the desk, her eyes taking on a soft gentleness as though imploring him to trust her.

  ‘To support Kara and her work with YA Together. I am a goodwill ambassador for the charity but, due to my work in recent years, I’ve not been able to work as closely with the charity as I would have liked. This interview is part of my contribution to make up for that.’ He hadn’t needed the tiredness in Kara’s eyes last night or the short and pointed phone call from Edwin today to know that Kara needed extra support now that Gabriela had arrived. He knew how important the charity was to Kara and though he was a reluctant participant he could see how impactful and wide-reaching this podcast could be.

  She frowned, as though uncertain what her next question would be. ‘Have you ever personally had mental health issues?’

  He knew the answer he should give—the one he had settled on overnight, knowing that the issue would eventually come up. But something about the softness of her voice, the gentle enquiry in her eyes, stole his answer away. And for the briefest of moments he was tempted to admit how separate he felt from the world...until good sense and the need to protect himself kicked back in. ‘Being an athlete is as much about psychological strength as it is physical. There have been times when I’ve struggled with injuries, been dropped from the team and of course lost races. I have learnt to accept where I am at the moment, not project negativity into the future, and try to be content with what I have already achieved.’

  Her nose wrinkled as though she was trying to unpack his answer...which even he had to admit was more ambiguous than he had intended. ‘Where’s your happy place...where do you feel most at home?’

  ‘I own a finca in the north of the island. I spend as much of my free time there as is possible.’ The last time he had brought someone to stay at the finca it had been an ex-girlfriend who had been unable to conceal her horror at its simple structure and remoteness. Was the same thing going to happen this weekend with Toni? Would she judge and criticise the life that made him happy? He picked up his phone. ‘I have calls I have to make before we leave.’