The smile slid off her face, and she frowned. “I know. I’m not Alisa anymore. I’m someone else, someone I don’t know, but I’m going to have to figure out.”
“That’s a tough one.”
“It is. Let’s get some ice cream. I know an all-night place.”
“Sounds awesome.” I’d prolong my last night with her even if it meant neither of us got any sleep tonight. This was it for us. We were over. Done. Finished.
She was a fucking princess of England. I was just a farmer’s son clinging to my dreams of playing professional football. I was not worthy. I was a nobody. They would never accept me, and I would never fit in. Alisa would resent my presence dragging her down eventually.
Yeah, it was over.
She would go to London and rub elbows with people who wouldn’t even hire me to be their servant. I’d stay here and fight for a spot on a pro team. Maybe, just maybe, a few years down the road, I’d have money and fame, and maybe then, we’d stand a chance.
I was grasping at straws and dreaming of a future I’d most likely be denied, but a guy had to have hope. If Alisa and I were meant to be, love would find a way.
Assuming she loved me as much as I loved her.
Chapter 12—Dumped for Good
Morning came too soon. Gage and I had finally drifted off to sleep about five a.m. I woke at six and took a quick shower. I had an early-afternoon flight and people to see before I left.
Gage was dressed and sitting on the edge of my bed by the time I came out of my shower. He looked me up and down, as if disappointed. He’d probably hoped for a quickie before I left. There wasn’t any time for that. I had a tight schedule, and I was running late already.
“I’ll drive you,” he said. “And I’ll take your car to your mom’s later today if that works.”
We’d both avoided talking about my plans for this morning, but there was no avoiding it now.
“Thank you, but I’m meeting my mother at the barn, where I’ll leave my car. Tiff will take it to my mom’s later. I have to say goodbye to everyone at the barn, then Mom and I are having an early lunch before I board the plane.”
“Okay, I’ll help you load your luggage.” His face fell, and I knew what he was thinking. I’d left no room for him on my last day in the United States.
“I don’t have much. My father’s people are picking up the bulk of it later today.” I pointed toward the pink suitcase sitting on my bed. “That’s all I’ll need until the rest of it arrives tomorrow.”
I glanced at my watch, and Gage took the hint, grabbing my suitcase. He grimaced at the weight of it, and I had to laugh. I needed to laugh.
Together we trudged out to my car. He put my suitcase in the trunk. As if on cue, the rain started to come down, gathering steam until huge drops splattered on the ground. We took refuge on the covered porch.
Gage turned to me with luminous blue eyes. I moved into him, and he put his hands on my hips and tugged me close. I melted into him, wishing for all the world I didn’t have to go. He brought his hand up to my face. With one finger, he traced my jawline and cupped the back of my neck. His touch was featherlight and in direct contrast to the raging emotions reflected in his eyes. He leaned down. Forehead to forehead, we gazed into each other’s eyes, as if committing every little nuance to memory.
His mouth touched mine, soft and gentle, so different than our usual passionate kisses but just as powerful. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, and I kissed him back, letting the world spin around us until we were lost in each other and this one last kiss.
Reluctantly, I broke off the kiss and gave Gage a gentle push. “I really have to go.”
“I know.” He glanced down at his feet and back up at me. My heart was breaking, and if I stayed much longer, I’d be crying my ass off.
“Goodbye, Alisa,” Gage said simply in a husky voice raw with sorrow.
“Goodbye, Gage.” I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep. I had no idea what the future held for either of us. I didn’t know if I’d be back. I didn’t know if there was a place in my new life for Gage or if there’d be a place for me in his. If he made it in the pros, he’d have his pick of women, from supermodels to movie stars to celebrities. He didn’t need me or my baggage. I kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Don’t wait for me.” I had to set him free. I couldn’t promise a future.
Before I lost it in front of him, I ran through the rain to my car and backed out of the driveway. My last image of Gage was of him standing on the sidewalk, looking devastated as the driving rain drenched him to the bone.
A half hour later, I was inside a dry barn, hugging Buford, my prized show horse, and crying my eyes out. My father had volunteered to have Bue shipped to Europe, but I’d declined. Shipping was uber-stressful for a horse, and I wouldn’t put Bue through that until I knew I was staying in the country. He’d be well taken care of in this barn, and the assistant trainer would be riding him almost every day.
I’d already said my goodbyes to Tiff. She’d been waiting for me when I’d arrived at the barn. My mom should be here anytime. She was notorious for being late, and I always padded any timeframe I gave her to account for that.
“Lis?”
Sniffling and wiping my eyes, I turned toward my mom. She leaned on the stall door. Her gray eyes studied me with the understanding only a mother had. “I’m going to miss him.”
“Him the horse or him as in Gage?” She smiled gently at me.
“Both,” I admitted. I hadn’t told my mother much about Gage, but she had a sixth sense about her only child that served her well. “And you and all my friends.”
“You don’t have to do this, honey. You have no obligation to him or the royal family.” She opened the stall door for me as I approached. Together we walked down the aisle as I took in the familiar sights and smells one last time.
“But I do, Mom. I do have to do this. This is one half of my genetics. I have to explore who and what I am.”
My mother sighed. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted you raised in a normal household, doing normal things, and not worrying about duty or protocol.”
“I’m grateful to you and Dad for raising me as you did. I miss him.”
“So do I.” My mom dabbed at her eyes, causing me to realize with a twinge of guilt how lonely she was without him. He shouldn’t have died so young. They’d made all these plans for retirement and were never able to do any of them. You never knew when your life would end. That was one of the reasons I had to do this. I didn’t want to regret never knowing the royal side of my family.
“Mom, I’m sorry. I know how hard it must be for you.”
“I’m fine. Let’s not talk about it. Let’s talk about you. This is really what you want?”
“Yes,” I said with conviction. “All little girls dream of being a princess. It’s hard to give up that dream when you find out you can live it.”
“Alisa, just remember, once you start living that life, it’ll be next to impossible to go back to being a commoner. It’ll consume you, own you, and control your every move.”
“Is that why you didn’t tell him?”
She nodded. “Partially. We were both young. It’d been a summer fling. He didn’t want to be tied down to me, an American, without a thimble of blue blood flowing in my veins.” She glanced at her watch. “We need to get going.”
I followed her to the car, and we drove to the airport. We stopped at a nearby coffee shop and had a quick bite to eat. Our conversation consisted of small talk instead of the heavy stuff we’d been discussing back at the barn.
Mom finished her coffee and sandwich and regarded me with those eyes. I was about to be lectured. “Alisa, you’re young, and I know this seems like such an ending for you. Gage means more than you want to admit. Life is full of such endings and new beginnings. Sometimes those endings have a way of circling around and coming back to you. I’m a strong believer if it’s meant to be, love will find a way. You do
what you need to do and know that you can go home again. If Gage loves you, he’ll still be here.”
Only I’d told him not to wait for me. My mother was a hopeless romantic. I was more practical. Gage would move on. There would be other women. I would do the same.
We pulled up to the airport, and this was it. The end of my familiar life and the beginning of a new adventure.
My mom gave me an encouraging smile, always my cheerleader. “You’ll do fine, honey. Call me as soon as you get settled. I want to hear all about it.”
“I promise, I will.” I got out of the car and heaved my suitcase from the trunk. My mom had gotten out, too, and gave me a big hug.
“I love you, Alisa.”
“I love you, Mom.” Blinking back tears, I stumbled into the terminal. This time, I didn’t look back. I already knew I’d see my mom crying and my heart couldn’t handle that.
~~Gage~~
All my roommates but Easton had taken off for winter break. Easton had hockey games to play, so he was sticking around. Riley came over under the guise of being bored, as Tiff was busy on a girls’ night out. In reality, he was checking on me. At least he showed up with a pizza in hand. Now Easton was watching an NHL game on TV, while Riley lounged on the couch and pretended interest in the hockey game. The Steelheads had a bye, so Riley was off this weekend.
“When are you going home for Christmas?” Riley asked.
“I’m not.”
“Don’t your parents miss you?”
I nodded, not interested in saying much more on the subject.
Riley watched me for a very long time. “Did you see Alisa off this morning?”
“Yeah, she’s gone.” A lump formed in my throat, and the last few words came out in a jumbled mess of emotions. Easton dragged his gaze from the game to me.
“What’re you doing next?” Riley already knew I’d dropped out of college.
“Looking for a job. Got any ideas?”
“Yeah, I might. You’re a charismatic guy. Mom’s always looking for party crashers.” His adopted mom, Izzy, ran a successful party-crashing business. She had crews of people who would “crash” parties and make sure they were a success, not duds. The idea was quite popular.
“Yeah, I could do that. Just entertain people, dance with old ladies, and talk sports with the guys.”
“It’d be a bonus if you could sing or play an instrument.”
“Not this guy, but I can talk a dog out of his last bone.”
“I know. I’ll put a word in for you and get back to you.”
A little bit of the gloom surrounding me since Alisa left this morning lifted. Life did go on, and I would trudge through it until such a time as I was over her.
She wasn’t coming back. Don’t wait for me, she’d said. The pain her words elicited deep within my heart hurt worse than my season-ending injury last year. She’d never told me she loved me. She’d left me with those last words. If she wasn’t dumping me for good, I didn’t know what else she was doing.
Chapter 13—Royal Flush
I slept most of the trip on the plane after taking a sleeping pill. By the time we were ready to land, I checked my compact mirror. I looked like crap and that would never do. I refreshed my makeup, tried to straighten out the wrinkles in my conservative dress, and tamed my unruly hair.
I was met by a security detail as soon as I departed the plane. They were the same unsmiling types I’d had before, but I’d won those two over. I’d request having them back once I settled in and was more comfortable making such requests.
Starting this new life was scary as shit. The king and queen were daunting enough. My father was rigid and unyielding, all about service to his country—my country. The scariest of all was my stepmother. She’d barely spoken a dozen words to me last summer. Instead she’d looked down her nose and scowled a lot, making her disapproval more than obvious. My father ignored her, as did the rest of the family. She didn’t cause waves. Didn’t create any scandal. In fact, she could be perfectly charming when the occasion called for it. The rest of the time, she did nothing to endear people to her, especially me. I’d followed my father’s lead and steered clear of her. Obviously, theirs was not a love match.
A pleasant, matronly lady dressed in a sensible black dress with a high collar approached me and held out her hand. She was probably my mother’s age but seemed much older.
“Your Highness? I’m Fran, your personal secretary. It’s my job to help you acclimate to royal life and make sure you have what you need.”
I smiled at her and shook her hand. “Please call me Alisa. So pleased to meet you, Fran.”
“Oh, no, that would never do.” She actually curtsied while I watched uncomfortably. “We must hurry along. The prince is expecting you.”
She was a whirlwind. My little entourage was led by airport security through a maze of hallways and out a service door, where a limo was waiting. A uniformed chauffeur held out his hand and assisted me into the sumptuous interior. When I’d visited last summer, I hadn’t been given the royal treatment, but it was clear things had changed.
Fran sat primly beside me on the seat and offered me a cup of tea. Seriously? Tea? I’d rather have coffee, but it’d be improper to make such an American request.
“Yes, thank you.” I took the dainty teacup from her and prayed I didn’t spill it all over my pastel dress. Sipping from the cup, I hoped the warm liquid would give me the same buzz as a strong cup of Starbucks.
Fran opened a book and began to recite protocol and rules and all sorts of stuff that made my head swim. How I was to address the king and queen, address my father and stepmother, my cousins, then there were all the rules regarding lesser royals who were below me in the pecking order. I was completely confused by the time the limo pulled up in front of the imposing Buckingham Palace that was to be my new home.
Last summer, I’d only stayed at my father’s summer house and never been to this palace. They had more privacy in the country, I’d assumed.
Now I stared at this storied castle so full of history and English heritage. I couldn’t believe I would be living here. The immense size overwhelmed me, and the palace oozed old-world power and grace. A shiver of fear ran through me. I didn’t know if I could pull this off and be a proper princess. I had to try. I wouldn’t let my father down. This was my country as much as America was. This place made up half of my ancestry, and I was determined as ever to make the royal family proud.
Fran led me to a room larger than the entire downstairs of the house I’d been living in. Everything dripped luxury, wealth, and time-worn age, from the drapes to the ornate headboard to the French doors opening onto a balcony overlooking colorful yet ordered gardens.
I had ten minutes to prepare to meet the family once again. I worked as quickly as I could, thanks to the help of my lady’s maid, Zelda, a young, frightened thing about my age. She had a talent for makeup and hair. I had the feeling we would be fast friends, if protocol allowed us to be. Zelda presented me with a formal gown, classic in its cut. It fit me as if it were made for me, molding to my curves like a glove and dipping low in front to show an ample amount of cleavage, much to my surprise. I’d considered the royal family quite conservative, and I hoped to God they’d given approval for this particular gown.
Then I was ushered downstairs by the butler—I didn’t catch his name—and into the drawing room off the grand dining room. Several familiar and not-so-familiar people dressed in everyday finery were gathered about the room, drinking and conversing. When I hesitated in the doorway, all eyes turned to me, and a hush came over the room.
I felt like Cinderella entering the ballroom, and my stomach did some Olympic-level gymnastics. I plastered my most radiant smile on my face, thanks to years as a cheerleader, and strolled into the room.
My father stepped forward, and I remembered enough protocol from my previous visit to execute a clumsy curtsy. He bowed his head in response and took my hand, leading me around the room. I was introd
uced to distant and not-distant relatives and reintroduced to those I’d met over the summer. As we finished our circuit of the room, the king and queen entered, along with my stepmother.
My father brought me before them with more bowing and curtsying. I was living a Regency romance novel. Everything was so foreign. So overpowering. So insanely unbelievable.
My stepmother, Princess Abigale, looked me up and down and sniffed. She hadn’t warmed to the idea of me being around, but I was determined to win her over. I’d already come to realize she wasn’t a popular royal and most of the servants despised her.
My father’s younger brother, Prince Anton, insisted I sit with him and his lovely wife, Princess Amy, at the dinner table, for which I was grateful. I’d only met them briefly last summer, but they were the members of the royal family I was most excited about getting to know.
“How are you doing, dear?” Princess Amy lowered her voice conspiratorially, so only I could hear.
“I’m managing,” I said honestly.
“It’s difficult, but you’ll do fine. You have the refinement and manners to shine. Trust me.” She winked at me. “If you need anything, Anton and I are here for you.”
“Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
“Oh, but I do. I was once new to royalty and this family. It’s daunting, but you will do just fine.”
A man from across the table tried his best to catch my eye. “Princess Alisa. How are you enjoying our country so far?”
I racked my brain for his name, and Amy came to my rescue. “Richard, she just got in a few hours ago. Give the poor thing time to breathe.”
He studied me in a way that gave me the creeps. His gaze kept slipping to my breasts and his smile was more of a leer. He was younger than my father, probably in his mid-thirties. I recalled he was a duke or something, but not much more.
I ignored him as best I could, while aware he had a standing that didn’t allow me to dismiss him. Thank God I’d been a voracious reader of Regency romances, and I knew some protocol.
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