The Making of a Princess

by Teresa Carpenter

  She snatched it from him. Picked up her purse. Headed for the door. “As far as I’m concerned all you’ve done is lie.”

  Xavier’s hand on her arm stopped her.

  She whirled on him. “Don’t touch me.”

  He immediately released her and threw both hands up in the universal sign of surrender.

  “I may be a fool,” she bit out, holding her purse and the envelope in front her like a shield. “But I’m not stupid. You used me. You—” Her throat closed, cutting off her words. Swallowing, taking a deep breath, she fought for control. “You stole a part of me. You lied. And you used my attraction for you to lull me along until the test results came in. You don’t get to touch me ever again.”

  “I did no—” He cut himself off to stand stoically silent. The only sign of agitation was the heavy rise and fall of his chest as if he exerted great control.

  What had he been going to say?

  What could he say?

  “Was any of it real?” She hated the plea, hated the need to validate a relationship that clearly existed only in her fantasies. Maybe she should have paid more attention to Grandmother. Because obviously she was right, Amanda was too naïve for her own good.

  “Don’t answer that. Of course it wasn’t. No wonder you never made the moves on me. You weren’t attracted to me. Oh Lord, yesterday.” Anguish gripped her. “You must have felt compelled to make love to me.”

  She wanted to hide in shame but forced her chin up. “I’m sorry—”

  “Do not!” Fire flashed in his eyes but only for an instant before he leashed his emotions once more. “You forced nothing. My feelings toward you are of no matter.”

  “It matters to me!”

  “I should not have touched you. It was inappropriate and I apologize.”

  Her heart broke a little more with every word he spoke.

  “You forbid me from expressing sorrow for forcing you into a difficult position, but it’s okay for you to dismiss what passed between us?” Her voice shook with the power of her emotions. “I get to say what is appropriate for me. I am not a citizen of Pasadonia. You are not responsible for me.”

  “I am a royal guard.” His shoulders straightened to sharp edges. “It is my duty to protect and serve the royal family. You are of royal blood. My duty is clear.”

  “Duty.” More than her voice broke on the word. “My grandparents have taught me all about the warmth of duty.”

  He slowly closed his eyes as if it took an effort to bank the mix of emotions that had risen to the surface. She imagined regret, sadness, anger but dismissed it as wishful thinking. Most likely it had been impatience.

  “You and your prince can keep your duty.” She stepped around him, turned the door handle. “I don’t need it. Or you.”

  This time he let her go.

  * * *

  “If you get on that plane, you are cutting all ties with your grandfather and me.” Grandmother sat ramrod straight on her cream sofa, her hands clenched in her lap.

  For the second time in as many hours Amanda sat stunned by news being directed at her. She’d gone directly from her interview with Xavier to her grandparents’ home to give them the news.

  She didn’t need to read the DNA report to realize he’d been telling her the truth. No, she wasn’t dense. But she’d read it anyway. All three pages of it, one with the Prince’s DNA graph, one with hers and the third page explaining the validation process.

  It wasn’t difficult to see the similar spikes on the graph. Besides what would the Prince gain by claiming a relationship with her if there wasn’t one?

  The Prince of Pasadonia was her father.

  She’d rushed to Sausalito to inform her grandparents, thinking they would want to know, hoping for some sympathy and guidance in the face of Xavier’s demand to leave on Tuesday for a command introduction to her royal father.

  She’d been wrong.

  Not only was Grandmother not sympathetic, she was outright hostile.

  “That man stole our daughter from us,” Grandmother denounced in frigid tones. “He can’t have you. Your grandfather and I have raised you as our own. You owe us your loyalty.”

  “That man?” Something in the way she said the words made Amanda go very still. “Grandmother, do you know who he is? Have you known who my father is all this time and kept if from me?”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady.” Grandmother looked sternly down her nose at Amanda. “There was no need for you to learn anything of your father. We have provided for your every need.”

  “It’s not a matter of needs. It’s a matter of identity. Of knowing who I am, of knowing what family I have and who they are.”

  “You are our daughter’s child. She should be enough for you.”

  “How can she be enough for me when you horde information about her like she’s gold mined from a depleted shaft? As if sharing with me diminishes her in some way?”

  “She died,” Grandmother said with great vehemence. “Because of you, she died.”

  “It was my fault.” Amanda’s shoulders slumped in defeat. She’d always known they blamed her for the loss of her mother and here was the confirmation. “So I didn’t deserve to know her?”

  Grandmother looked away. “Such a loss is difficult to talk about.”

  “Why?” Amanda pleaded. “Why was it so hard to tell me about her?”

  Silence greeted her query.

  “Do you hate me that much?” Amanda whispered.

  “Stop being so dramatic.” Grandmother leaned forward to minutely adjust the magazine atop the coffee table. “If you must know, she shamed us. Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to have her sashaying about campus pregnant and unwed? Hunt is a small, prestigious university with traditional values. Your grandfather and I suffered censure for months.”

  It was all too easy to see their reputations had meant more to them than their child’s happiness. How sad. And how familiar.

  “And my father?”

  “Of course we knew who he was. At first Haley refused to tell us, but when the complications developed after your birth, she told me everything.”

  “But you didn’t contact him?”

  “Why would we? He didn’t deserve you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, jutted her chin. “With Haley’s passing, sympathy replaced the disapproval around campus and we were able to put her indiscretion behind us. If you acknowledge Jean Claude Carrère now, the circumstances of your birth will be resurrected, and we’ll be forced to relive the mortifying scrutiny all over again.”

  “What about me? What about my opportunity to know my father?” She challenged her grandmother like never before.

  For Amanda it had always been about pleasing her grandparents, always seeking their approval. That ended now. The sense of betrayal, compounded by her grandmother’s lack of concern, was huge.

  “Have you ever thought about what would make me happy? Have you ever put my needs before your own even once?”

  “I let you go to that princess camp you carried on about.”

  “Once. You refused to let me go back even though I begged.”

  “Because it was a waste. And you were obsessed with all things princess.” She sniffed her disdain. “I was supposed to tell a child who mooned over every fairy tale and Disney princess that she was the daughter of a prince who didn’t know she existed? Not likely.”

  “I was eleven. I outgrew the fascination. You could have told when I got older.”

  “Stop this now.” Grandmother clearly disliked being questioned. “This emotional outburst is unbecoming on you. We did our duty. We raised you as our own, provided a good education for you. You should be grateful.”

  “Grateful?” Amanda asked appalled. “Family shouldn’t have to be grateful
for supporting each other. I love you and Grandfather. Do you love me?”

  She didn’t know where the question came from except when she stopped and thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time she heard either of her grandparents actually voice their affection for her.

  “Now you’re being silly.” Grandmother stood and smoothed her camp shirt over her linen pants. “You’re not going, so this discussion is over. We won’t speak of this again. It would distress your grandfather.”

  “I am going.”

  Grandmother froze, turned slowly to face Amanda. “You’re just saying that to be contrary.” Her icy tone made Xavier’s coolness seem warm and toasty. “I won’t succumb to emotional blackmail.”

  Amanda jumped to her feet.

  “Emotional blackmail? I simply asked you to admit you love me. Something you couldn’t do.” She paused. And still nothing. “Emotional blackmail is telling me by boarding the plane I’m cutting all ties with you and grandfather.”

  “It’s for the best.”

  “You would cut me out of your lives?”

  “You’re not going, so it’s not an issue.”

  “Oh, I’m going.”

  “I said no.” Grandmother’s tone held steel.

  “But you don’t make my decisions for me anymore. You kept the information about my father from me. Now he’s found me, and I choose to act on the invitation he’s issued.”

  Ingrid lifted her chin. “Then you’ve made your choice.”

  “Yes.”

  Amanda came here to find comfort and reassurance. Instead she received a large dose of truth she’d been unprepared to handle. But she wouldn’t accept the blame for the deterioration of her family. Not when she was simply trying to find her way. She grabbed her keys.

  “But remember this, you forced it.”

  * * *

  Xavier shifted gears allowing the tension to drain from his shoulders. He recognized the streets and realized Amanda was headed home.

  She’d been so upset earlier he’d felt compelled to follow her to ensure her safety. He knew from his report on her that the address she’d gone to belonged to her grandparents.

  If she’d hoped for sympathy, clearly she hadn’t found what she sought. From the body language he observed through the front window, her visit had been more confrontational than comforting.

  She looked paler and even more distressed after talking to her grandmother than she had when she left him.

  He wouldn’t have thought it possible.

  She found a parking spot on the street and he pulled into a loading zone to watch until he saw her safely inside and her lights go on. It took remarkable restraint not to go up and make sure she’d properly locked her door.

  And not because of any sense of duty.

  He felt disjointed, out of sync, at odds with himself when it came to Amanda. Her safety was the most important thing in the world to him, but not because his Prince had ordered it.

  He’d hurt her. It killed him knowing all the misery she’d borne today zeroed back on him. He’d never forgive himself for putting his desires before her welfare.

  Drawing his mobile phone out, he quickly dialed a number.

  “Yes,” Amanda answered, her tone cool as the night air on the other side of his window.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “You had much information to process today,” he added to keep her from guessing he’d been following her across the city. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  “There were only three pages.” No sign of a thaw in her voice. “It wasn’t that hard to follow.”

  “Of course.” So it had been a sad excuse for a question. His maman always said a poor excuse was better than no excuse at all. “I know you were upset.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Please do not let my mistakes influence you against the Prince. You deserve this opportunity to meet your father.”

  “Why does it have to be so soon?” she demanded. “It’s difficult to make arrangements on such short notice.”

  “Tell me what you need. I will make any arrangements necessary.”

  “I don’t need you to fix my problems.” She bristled. “When do you need an answer?”

  “I can hold the flight until eight o’clock Tuesday night.” Encouraged by the query he pushed back the flight plan by several hours to give her as much time to elect to travel with him as possible. “Call me...if you need anything.”

  “I won’t—” She stopped and he heard her suck in a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “Amanda—”

  “Xavier,” she broke in. “I can’t talk to you right now. I have to separate you from my father in my head or I won’t be able to think clearly. I’ll call you when I’ve made my decision.”

  Silence announced the call had ended.

  He sighed and stared up at her window until the light went out. He wanted to help her, to make this situation easier, but he didn’t know how.

  Finally he reached for the keys and then hesitated. Leaning back he checked the time, did a quick calculation in his head, and hit a new number. A few moments later a familiar voice answered.

  “Hello maman.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  We made love today. And it was as special as I’d hoped. He was gentle and caring, and oh so passionate. He stole my breath and my heart. I love him. And I can’t believe he could be so tender, so giving, without having feelings for me, too.

  The girls say it’s time for us to move on, but I don’t want to go. I want to spend every moment I can with my prince.

  I know we have no future. We’re from two different worlds. But I can have now. I can make the most of every day I do have with him. Build memories to sustain me when the time comes for me to leave him for good.

  AMANDA FLIPPED THE PAGE, but there was nothing more, just blank page after blank page. No! That couldn’t be all there was. She dug through the box but all the other journals were from earlier times.

  She set the book in the box, closed the flaps, carried the box to her closet, and thrust it into a back corner.

  In the dark, curled on her side, she let the tears fall. She knew her mother’s pain, felt it as her own. Both of them falling for men who could never be theirs, who were not who they claimed to be.

  Why hadn’t her mother finished her journal? Amanda had hoped to learn more about her father, the man who had summoned her to him. How had it ended? Had she left still loving him? Had she ever made an attempt to tell him about the baby they’d made?

  Had she ever found out who he really was? And if so, had she been able to forgive him? Or would the betrayal have hurt her so badly she’d given up on any notion of a happily ever after?

  * * *

  “You’re remarkably calm for all you’ve been through.” Michelle observed from her pedi massage chair. “If it were me, I’d be faceting a certain royal guard’s family jewels into a matching set of earrings.”

  “You mean cufflinks?” Amanda sat with her eyes closed, body humming due to the vibration of her own massage chair, and thanked the Lord for sending her best friend.

  After leaving Grandmother’s yesterday, Amanda retreated to the safety and comfort of her own little apartment, where she promptly fell apart. She spent the night crying over lost relationships and brooding about the possibility of new beginnings.

  She went over every moment of her time with Xavier wondering how she’d so tragically misread the chemistry between them.

  In the end she decided he was the world’s best actor, and Hollywood was missing a great talent.

  She ended the night pouring her hurt and betrayal, her hopes and newfound independence into an email to Michelle and Elle, before dropping into an exhausted slumber.

  Eight hours later a p
ounding on her door woke her. Michelle swept in, wrapped Amanda in a hug, declared Xavier a bastard, announced Amanda’s grandparents had never really appreciated her, and when nine o’clock rolled around she dragged Amanda out to her favorite nail shop for a massage pedicure.

  This early they had the place to themselves apart from the three youthful Vietnamese women who welcomed them. One stayed at the reception desk while the others led Amanda and Michelle to the massage chairs and cheerfully went to work.

  “No, I mean earrings. And I’d wear them proudly. He doesn’t deserve to keep them.”

  Conscious of the women working on their feet Amanda turned a wide-eyed stare on her friend. “You are scary.”

  “You bet.” She smiled evilly. “Better, I’m engaged to an ex-Army Ranger. You want him to beat up Xavier?”

  “Tempting. But I don’t think that’s a good idea. Nate is impressive, but Xavier is also a professional soldier.”

  “Nate could take him,” Michelle asserted confidently.

  “Maybe.” Amanda thought of the grace and controlled strength Xavier exhibited during his sword demonstration at the museum. Her nerves tingled at the memory. “But not without suffering damage. It’s not worth it.”

  “As if a beat down was actually an option.” Michelle reached out and socked Amanda in the arm. “You’re still stuck on the guy.”

  “I don’t want to be. I’d give anything to flip a switch and turn it off.” The Lord knows she’d tried every argument she could think of last night. “I’m angry. I’m hurt. I feel used. But, yeah, I’m still stuck on him.”

  “Dude.”

  “I know.” Amanda sighed. “Nothing about these feelings has been convenient. First they were a problem because he was leaving. Now they’re a problem because he wants me to go with him.”

  But she had her answer regarding his feelings, didn’t she.?And no, he definitely wasn’t enchanted.

  A trill of laughter ran through the room as the staff chattered away in Vietnamese. Glad the women were caught up in their own conversation, Amanda turned to Michelle.