“How can something as positive as love hurt so much?”
“Don’t ask me. I’m bemused by this love business more than half the time. If Nate weren’t the most dogged man in the world, we wouldn’t be together.”
“That doesn’t surprise me considering your trust issues. The fact you fell for a sheriff, now that was a shock. But you definitely look happy together.”
“We are. I can’t believe how much I love him, how much it grows day by day. You know the best part? I like who I am when I’m with him. I’m stronger, kinder, more open. I’m just a better person. But you’re right, if someone told me I’d marry a lawman after playing second fiddle to my dad’s career in law enforcement my whole life, I’d have laughed my head off and advised them to get a brain scan.”
“But here you are looking at wedding dresses.” Amanda nodded to the bridal magazine poking out of Michelle’s tote.
Her friend scowled at the errant magazine and pushed it further down in the bag. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to rub my happiness in your face.”
“You’re not,” Amanda assured her. “My life may be a shambles, but I’m genuinely happy to see my friends in loving relationships.” Did it hurt? Yeah. She’d live through it. “Any advice for me?”
Michelle reached for her hand, squeezed. “Give yourself time. I almost lost Nate because my knee-jerk reaction was to run away. I saw Xavier with you the other night. He’s not as detached as he claims. Nobody is that good an actor.”
“Yeah, I’m thinking he missed his calling in Hollywood.”
“Or he really cares about you.”
“It was pretty clear he doesn’t.” Amanda smiled sadly. “He’s a royal guard. He protects the royal family and I have royal blood. A sense of duty is all he feels for me.”
“So you don’t think he may be hiding his true feelings?”
She couldn’t allow herself that fantasy. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think.”
“And are you going to go with him? You told your grandmother you were.”
“That’s because she was so dead set against the idea. And I wasn’t putting up with that ultimatum.” She grimaced. “Look at me, finally rebelling at twenty-five.”
“Better late than never,” Michelle cheered. “And I really mean that. So you’re not going?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not going to be manipulated one way or the other. I have to do what’s right for me.”
“You’ve always wondered about your father. This is your chance to get the answers to all your questions.”
“Yes, but how do I go all that way and spend all that time with Xavier knowing I’m nothing more than an assignment to him?”
* * *
Amanda didn’t know what to do with her hands. She sat in the lounge of the Prince’s—her father’s—private jet, waiting for takeoff. Resting her hands in her lap seemed too missish. On the armrests seemed too confrontational. Which was ridiculous—what were armrests for but to rest your arms on?
Michelle brought Amanda to the airport, saw her off at the gate, giving Xavier the evil eye as only a righteous BFF could. Michelle’s support meant the world to Amanda. She’d even offered to accompany Amanda to Pasadonia, which nearly brought her to tears. Elle had made the same offer, and Amanda had been tempted, but she couldn’t disrupt their lives just because hers was in total chaos. So she’d hugged her friend goodbye and boarded the plane alone.
Now she sat not knowing what to do with her hands.
The problem came from the fact this seat was more like an armchair than the regular airline seats, and the sides were higher. When she propped her arms up she felt rather arrogant, so she took them down and felt too submissive. Better arrogant than submissive, she decided, and went with that.
Where was Xavier?
He’d seen her seated and then promptly disappeared. Leaving her alone with her thoughts, her worries, her growing nerves.
Not about whether to go, she’d made her peace with that decision. Especially after the Prince—her father, as she had to keep reminding herself—called to talk to her. He’d apologized for inconveniencing her by making her come to him but he was unable to get away at this time and he felt an urgency to meet her. He told her of his wife and twin two-year-old sons, saying they were excited to meet their sister.
Sister! It was a shock to hear the word. Of course she’d already learned about the boys from the web search she’d done on Prince Jean Claude Carrère. But it was still unreal. And she hadn’t quite related it to having siblings.
Baby brothers, how cool was that?
But she couldn’t really claim them, could she?
That’s what had her stomach in knots, the uncertainty of her position in Pasadonia. The call with her father had been brief and didn’t include any specifics of her visit other than the request to come. She’d asked Xavier, but he’d put her off, which left her to speculate.
Surely they had a plan beyond a broadcast message to the masses that she was the Prince’s bastard daughter. The press would have a field day with that. Yeah, she could see the headlines now:
PRINCE WELCOMES LOVE CHILD FROM AMERICA
She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to deal with the press. The scrutiny would be worse than the anything she’d ever known on campus. Still, it was better to concentrate on the paparazzi than think of Xavier. And she couldn’t think about the call from her father without speculating that Xavier had something to do with the sudden contact.
“Miss Carn?” A voice with a lovely French accent called her name. Early in their relationship Xavier had informed her French and English were the two main languages of Pasadonia.
Amanda opened her eyes to a petite woman in a white and burgundy uniform. Her brown hair was swept up in a sleek twist and her gaze was warm and genuine.
“I am Calli, I will be serving you on the trip. May I offer you something to drink?” the woman asked softly. “Champagne? Or perhaps coffee?”
“If you have it, hot tea would be nice.”
“Of course. It would be my pleasure. First, may I show you the amenities on board?”
Amanda followed Calli on a brief tour of the luxury jet. Besides the well-appointed lounge, there was a conference area, a full sized restroom including a shower, and a bedroom with a queen bed. Decorated in soothing cream, gold, and browns, the amenities offered high quality comfort at thirty-five thousand feet.
One good thing about the spaciousness, she wouldn’t have to be near Xavier once she had their game plan for touchdown in Pasadonia.
“Your baggage is stored in the closet for your use during the flight.” Calli released a latch and opened the dark wood door to show Amanda her luggage. “Please allow me to assist you in accessing the bags when you are ready.”
“You’ve been very helpful.” Amanda smiled at the other woman. “I’ve never flown in such luxury. I feel like a—” Princess. But no, she couldn’t say that. “A celebrity.”
Calli’s eyes sparkled as she nodded. “Let me know if I can do anything to make your trip more enjoyable.”
Just knowing where the restrooms were was a help. Amanda needed to talk to Xavier about the protocol and strategy for when they reached Pasadonia. The rest of the time, not so much. Ignoring him worked for her, so not having to ask for directions to the bathroom made her happy.
“May I say I am very pleased to meet you.” Calli flashed a friendly smile.
Amanda’s enthusiasm in the moment dimmed. Had her identity already been announced to the people of Pasadonia?
“Xavier is a good man.”
“Oh. Yes.” Amanda relaxed. The woman had mistakenly linked her to Xavier. Her mind applauded the reprieve even as her heart winced missing the closeness she’d shared with him less than a week ago. Except the closeness had been a mirage, mad
e up of wishful thinking and a deliberate charade.
His betrayal stung. How could she trust anything he told her? He was such a private man that she’d cherished every personal revelation he’d given her, especially the stories of his family.
Now she wondered if any of it had been true. Had he made up stories just to keep her hooked? She must have seemed so needy.
“Thank you, Calli.” Xavier’s deep voice came from the doorway. “Please strap in, we are ready for takeoff.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AMANDA FROZE. Her reprieve was over.
“Of course.” Calli glanced at Amanda. “I will prepare your tea as soon as the Capitan allows.”
“Thank you.” She watched the woman leave rather than look at Xavier. “Amanda.” He held out a hand. “It is time to take our seats.”
Ignoring his gesture, she walked past without touching him. In the lounge, she resumed her seat and strapped her seat belt.
He settled in the chair across from her and clicked in.
“Are you a nervous flier?” Xavier asked.
She realized her hands had found their perch, clenched tightly around the ends of the armrests.
“I don’t know,” she confessed reluctantly. Though tempted to prevaricate rather than show weakness, she chose the truth. Best to keep her own integrity intact. “I’ve never flown before.”
“In that case, we shall endeavor to make it a memorable flight.”
She made a conscious effort to relax, but her body was working independently of her mind and refused to give up its hold on her seat.
“The plane is memorable enough,” she said with a glance around the elegantly appointed cabin. “I’ll settle for uneventful for the flight.”
“A point well made.” He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankle, the very picture of a man at ease.
The soles of his shoes ended mere inches from her black suede boots. She refused to acknowledge the comfort the nearness brought her. Instead she looked out her window and tensed as the plane began to move. She watched, fascinated, as they slowly made their way to the runway and then came to a stop, waiting their turn.
“Our Capitan is Rod Varela.” Xavier chose that moment to begin outlining the details of the trip, including the names of the crew, the flight path, refueling points, time changes and meal options. He talked right through the rush of acceleration and the weightlessness of liftoff.
She looked out again to see San Francisco whizzing by, growing smaller as they rose higher. Enthralled, she sent Xavier an excited glance. He smiled back, then looked out his own window. Biting her lip, she kept her gaze on the tiny pinpoints of lights until San Francisco disappeared into darkness.
Calli appeared with Amanda’s tea. The tray included a cup for Xavier and a small a plate of cookies and a selection of crackers, cheese, and fruit. Calli wished them enjoyment and returned to her galley domain.
“Thank you,” she said when they were alone. Because of course he’d done it on purpose, overwhelming her with details to distract her from being nervous during takeoff. Between his chatter and the newness of the experience she forgot her anxiety, allowing her to enjoy the moment.
He inclined his head. “I am glad you are enjoying yourself.”
“I’ll admit it was iffy there at the beginning.” She drew circles over the creamy leather of her armrest. She was still angry at him, but his kindness touched her, loosening her reserve. “I keep expecting to wake up at any moment.”
He set his tea aside and leaned forward in his chair. His amber eyes searched her features forcing her gaze down.
“I am sure the speed of events has added to the sense of unreality.”
“Yes, I barely feel I’ve had time to think.”
“I am sorry. I wish it could have been different, that you could have had more time. However, the Prince has a very full schedule. He has only these two weeks before he attends a diplomatic conference.”
Her life seemed insubstantial next to the Prince’s. But it was her life, modest as it may be, and in two weeks she’d be coming back to it. This little trip was just a blip in the bigger scheme of things.
He reached out, his hand hovering over hers in an obvious desire to touch, but she stiffened and he pulled back.
“I know what you have sacrificed for this opportunity.”
She frowned and looked at him through her lashes. “What do you mean?” He couldn’t possibly know what she’d given up to meet her father.
“I know about your grandmother’s ultimatum. I know you may lose your job.”
She shrank back. Why would he continue to keep tabs on her? Was that what she had to look forward to in the future? Would being the Prince’s daughter result in the loss of all privacy? She shook her head. That was one sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make.
“Michelle made sure I knew. She promised me much pain if I hurt you.”
She swallowed against a lump in her throat. That was so like Michelle.
“It’s just a job.” She dismissed as if she didn’t love her position at the museum. “And they’ll take me back if they haven’t replaced me before my return.”
Her boss hadn’t been thrilled with her request for a two-week vacation. She’d only been with the museum for a year and wouldn’t earn a second week for another year. But he would have worked with her.
It was the Director who feared her family emergency might leak into more time and leave them understaffed. She authorized one week’s vacation, after which time they would advertise the position. If they didn’t hire anyone before Amanda returned, she could have her job back, less a week without pay.
“I can make a call,” he offered.
“No thank you.” She wanted no favors from him. “I thought you might be spying on me again.”
He scowled at the accusation, then sighed and settled back in his chair obviously making himself comfortable for the coming discussion.
“I would not call it spying,” he said.
She lifted a skeptical brow.
“I withheld a few things, but I have not lied to you Amanda, and I never will. Yes, I received a slim report of your vital statistics and I had one of my men follow you home the night I met you, but that is the extent of our spying. Except—” He cleared his throat.
“Except?” she prompted.
“I did follow you the day I revealed your father’s identity. You were so upset I was worried for you.”
She stared at him, torn between hurt, anger, exasperation, and embarrassment. “Your definitions for lying and spying differ from mine. Withholding information I have the right to know is lying. Pretending emotions you don’t feel is lying. Following me anywhere for any reason is spying.”
His jaw clenched and she knew he wanted to issue a protest, to defend his actions, but he simply nodded.
“Noted.”
His capitulation just added to the hurt.
If he felt something for her, why didn’t he tell her? Why didn’t he fight for her? The answer was obvious. Because he cared more for his career than he did for her.
Calli reappeared to take their dinner order. Amanda had no appetite, but Calli waited so patiently that she finally requested grilled chicken with steamed vegetables. Xavier ordered a steak.
Silence fell, upon Calli’s retreat.
Their relationship, sham that it may be, was over. No good could be gained by rehashing faulty memories of the unfortunate affair.
“Was anything you told me true?” she challenged him. “The stories about your family, your career? Any of it?”
“You ask me this when I just told you I have not lied to you?” His brusque tone inferred a strong emotion, but was it anger at her daring to question him or hurt at not being taken at his word?
One of t
he things she cherished most about their relationship was being able to talk to him. His compassion and wisdom, the warmth he shared from his family experiences helped her reconcile some issues.
It was because of him that she’d fought for her mother’s diaries, that she’d been able to learn who her mother was beyond her grandmother’s revelations. His steadiness and belief in Amanda gave her the strength to stand up for herself, to truly exert her independence from her grandparents.
And because of him she may have severed her connection to the only family she’d ever known.
No, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t to blame for her grandmother’s ultimatum, or for the fact her father was a prince in the habit of making royal summons.
But he was here, and he wasn’t without fault.
She’d trusted him with her inner most secrets. She’d given herself to him body and soul. Learning she’d been nothing more to him than the next assignment cut her to the core.
He hadn’t lied? Please.
His betrayal put her grandmother’s antics to shame. At least she never pretended an affection she didn’t feel.
“And I just told you how you have,” she reminded him, crossing her arms in front of herself, a shield against further pain. “I don’t know what to believe.”
He pushed to his feet and began to pace the small space. Clearly agitated, he appeared to be struggling with himself.
“Mon Dieu. I am a soldier, Amanda. What I am is what you see. I am not such a good actor to be faking things I do not feel. The problem is I was not always the soldier with you. And that was wrong. I should not have allowed our acquaintance to become personal.”
“Acquaintance?” She narrowed her eyes at him.
“You twist my words because you are angry. Can you not see it is my duty to protect you? I cannot do so effectively if I am engaged emotionally. It is best for our closer association to end.”
“And now I’m an associate.” She bowed her head. She’d been right; no good was coming from rehashing the past. What had meant so much to her was disintegrating right before her eyes.
The Making of a Princess Page 10
