Suddenly he was there lifting her chin with gentle fingers, cupping her face in his hands.
“You are my l—” He stopped, closing his eyes on the searing emotions roiling within him. When he reopened them his amber eyes were more focused but still intense. “You are special. I cannot risk you.”
“What does that mean, Xavier?” She pulled away from his touch and immediately missed it. Nothing new, she’d been missing his touch, his nearness, him ever since he revealed the truth four days ago. “Are you saying what was between us was real, because it doesn’t feel like it.”
“It was very real.” He sank into the seat beside her.
Too close, and not close enough. How was it possible to be so angry at him and still long for him at the same time?
Objection, her psyche protested. Asked and answered. She’d put the question to Michelle two days ago. Her friend had shrugged and said, “It can only be love.” Amanda hadn’t liked the answer then and she didn’t like it now.
“But wrong.”
“Yes.”
“You regret the time we spent together.” How many ways did he have to say the words for her to finally get the picture? Why did she persist in tearing herself up by questioning him?
“No.” The denial held a bite. “Never.”
And there was her answer. Because he was as clear as mud. He said one thing, but his manner inferred another, and now he contradicted himself.
“Isn’t that what wrong means?” she whispered.
“No. This is not the right term. Perhaps my English is not so good.”
“Your English is excellent. Just talk to me, Xavier.” She half turned toward him, her arm braced on the armrest, almost but not quite touching his.
He sighed and moved his arm the scant half inch so his arm touched hers. And when he turned his head, it was her Xavier who looked at her.
“It is not meant to be. I should never have let my personal feelings rule my actions. I noticed you at the opening, and I was attracted to your soft beauty long before you stood beneath the portrait and I saw the resemblance. Of course I knew my duty. I would have kept my distance, but you asked me out. I convinced myself that the chance of your being related to the Prince was unlikely, but perhaps it would be a good thing to keep close just in case. Surely a cup of coffee could not hurt.”
She remembered thinking the same thing.
“You were enchanting. My orders to engage you and learn what you knew were a blessing and a curse. It was just what I wanted to do, but for the wrong reason. After that—” his jaw clenched tightly “—the soldier stepped aside and the man took over. Our time together felt so natural. I gave in to feelings I should not have allowed.”
“Because duty comes first.” It was a statement squeezed through a tight throat. He’d told her, hadn’t he, that a woman had never come between him and his career.
“Yes.”
Something in the way he said the one word reminded Amanda of a tension she’d noted before, the first time he’d talked about his family’s service.
“You didn’t want to be a soldier,” she guessed.
“What?” His shields immediately went up, closing off all show of emotion. “I am a soldier.”
His reaction only made her more certain of her conclusion. “Yes, but it’s not what you would have chosen for yourself. You wanted to be an engineer. You’re only a soldier because it’s the way of your family. For six generations a son has joined the militia. Did you ever tell your parents you didn’t want to serve?”
“There was nothing to tell. I have always known I would serve. I have done my duty with pride.”
“This explains so much,” she muttered, speaking her thoughts aloud. “No wonder duty is so important to you. It’s what drives you. Duty to your family put you in a career you didn’t want, which only compounded your need to excel as a soldier, increasing your sense of duty to your country and your Prince.”
“Amanda, I do not know where this is coming from.” There was helplessness in his voice unlike anything she’d ever heard. “Being a soldier is all I have ever known.”
She just shook her head.
He didn’t even see it, the vicious circle motivated by love, fueled by pride, and propelled by accomplishment. Being a soldier wasn’t what he would have chosen, but that only made him more determined to succeed, to be the best.
And their relationship was a casualty of his devotion.
He slid his fingers under hers. “I am sorry.”
She should pull back, but this time she couldn’t. She believed him. The ache in his voice revealed a depth of emotion his stoic features kept hidden. “I will cherish my memories of our time together.”
“So what all this means is it was real, but now it’s over.”
“Yes.”
“Because I have royal blood and you are a royal guard?”
“It is the way of our people,” he said simply.
She frowned and then shook her head. Building a relationship with her father wouldn’t work if she didn’t keep an open mind. But at the same time, she couldn’t help feeling resentment against archaic customs designed to keep her from the man she loved.
This was all her fault. She’d known all along they had no future together, so there was no use crying now her expectations had proved true. It hurt more than she ever dreamed, but that didn’t change the outcome.
Time to deal and move on.
“Right. It’s over.” She made it a firm statement as she sank back into her seat, disengaging contact with him. “Thank you for explaining.”
“I, too, am glad we had this talk. Under the circumstances it is best we are both clear on the state of our relationship.”
“Don’t worry,” she said stiffly. “I will not be telling anyone about our brief association.”
“I will, of course, report my inappropriate actions.” He was equally stiff. “But that is not what I was talk—”
“Hold it.” Snapping forward in her chair, she sat on the edge and turned to face him. “You are not to tell anyone anything.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I AM NOT going to start my relationship with my father with this hanging over my head.” Bad enough it was hanging over her heart.
“I must report to my superiors. You have done nothing wrong. It will not affect you.”
“Your superiors include my father. I don’t want him knowing about this. Regardless of what you say, it will be a strain on our meeting. Promise me you won’t tell anyone anything.”
“Amanda—”
“No. You said it was not the soldier that spent time with me, so the soldier has nothing to report.”
“Separating the two is what got me into trouble in the first place.”
“Xavier, you owe me.” Unable to sit still she hopped to her feet and began to pace. “I get it, we’re over. But I don’t want my father and half the country knowing about our failed fling. I’d like to be able to look people in the face with some dignity.”
“You are overreacting. The reports are confidential.”
“Not from my father!” She swung around almost tripping over the boots she’d kicked off. “Not from the generals or colonels or whatever. Your superiors are the people I’ll be meeting. I put my life on hold for this trip. Don’t make me regret it before we even reach Pasadonia. Promise me you’ll say nothing.”
He continued to hesitate.
And into the silence Calli arrived with their meal. She rolled in a cart, pushed a button that raised a table between the four console seats, and quickly dressed it with linens and fine china. From a warming tray she pulled domed plates and placed one at each setting.
“Bon appétit,” she said with a smile.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Amanda aske
d, fighting off the mortification she felt when Calli came into the room. She worried what people in Pasadonia would think, but hadn’t given a thought to the woman in the next room.
“Merci, I have already dined. Now I must see to the crew’s dinner.”
“Of course.” Amanda sighed in relief. “Thank you, this looks lovely.”
“It is my pleasure. Please enjoy.” With a shallow bow of her head the woman rolled her cart from the room.
Amanda dropped into her chair, bent double, and buried her face in her hands. “Just kill me now.”
A moment later she felt Xavier’s hand smooth over her head and two tears leaked past the control she was barely holding onto.
“It is not like you to be so dramatic.” His voice was as soft as his delicate touch. “All these rooms are soundproofed to protect the Prince’s privacy.”
“Thank you God.” She uttered the small prayer with total gratitude, slowly straightening in her seat. He was right, it wasn’t like her to be dramatic, but she felt so out of her depth. She turned pleading eyes to him. “Xavier?”
“This is important to you.”
She gave a frustrated laugh. “Have I not made that clear?”
“It is a difficult thing you ask. A matter of honor.”
“It doesn’t have to be. What happened between us is nobody’s business but ours. I would understand if it was a matter of national security, but it was personal. Not the Prince’s daughter and his guard, just a man and a woman. From the moment my identity was confirmed you have been the picture of propriety. Can’t that be enough?” She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Meeting a father I’ve never known is hard enough. Don’t make me wonder if everyone I meet is judging me, or worse, pitying me.”
He sighed and stood to slide past her and walk around the table to take the seat opposite. He lifted the domed lids from the plates and set them aside. The scent of roast chicken hit her stomach like a brick, heavy and unwanted.
“Perhaps I could delay my report until after you have returned home.”
It took a moment for the words to register. When they did, it seemed the perfect solution. She began to slump in relief but stopped. “Perhaps? Does that mean you will or you won’t?”
“It means I will, but there is more I must tell you. First you should eat.”
Not liking the sound of that, she crossed her arms over her chest. “What more?”
He shook his head and gestured to her plate. “Please eat. You’ll feel better.”
Nothing she said would dissuade him so she reached for her fork and reluctantly took a bite of the succulent chicken. Excellent. Suddenly starved, she attacked the meal with gusto, mostly managing to ignore the controlling, aggravating, totally gorgeous man across from her.
Surprisingly after the turmoil of their post-takeoff argument, the meal passed in companionable silence. And finally it was over. After wiping her mouth, she put the question to him.
“Okay, I’ve eaten.” And she did feel better but wouldn’t admit that to him. “Tell me more.”
Xavier went still and then deliberately pushed his plate aside. Running an assessing gaze over her, he saw the meal had done its job in helping to alleviate the tension surrounding her. Good, because she wasn’t going to care for this next part.
“You asked if we had a plan to account for your time in Pasadonia. The Prince agrees that it would be best for the two of you to have time to get to know each other outside the scrutiny of the people or the press. This is not easily arranged.”
“Of course.” She nodded her understanding even as her eyes remained wary. “The Prince is a public figure.”
“Exactly so.” He appreciated her intelligence, her ability to read the situation. He disliked seeing her in distress, hated he was the one to cause her pain. He very much feared his news would do both.
“It has been known that I would be returning home for the Festival of Arms to see my father honored. You will be accompanying me as my lady friend.”
“Lady friend,” she repeated, then the light dawned. “You mean girlfriend?” Clearly appalled she shook her head. “No. That’s not a good idea.”
“It has already been decided. My quarters are in the palace. You will be given a room nearby. Your protection is also an issue. The cover will allow me to stay close without causing undue attention.”
“It sounds like you have it all worked out.”
Oh yeah. Distress, pain, and a healthy dose of totally pissed.
He could not let her emotions sway him. He was not allowed that luxury.
“The arrangements have been made.”
“Without discussing it with me first? Without giving me the courtesy of having a say?” She slowly stood and gathered her personal items, purse, boots, jacket. Her dignity she wrapped around her like a cloak. At the door to the hall leading to the back of the plane she turned. “I’ll be taking the bedroom. Next time you communicate with my father tell him so far I’m not impressed.”
He winced as the door slammed behind her. Fury clearly had the upper hand.
Bon. He’d rather see rage in her eyes than the hurt that had haunted them, and him, for the past week.
As for her message to her father? He’d be sure to pass that along.
* * *
Amanda fumed, pacing the length of the bed and back trying to work off excess energy.
The men of Pasadonia needed to stop treating her like a child. She was an adult and she was past the point of giving up control to anyone else. A lesson probably well learned before she met her father the Prince.
Finally fatigue caught up with her. Deciding not to bother Calli for a change of clothes, Amanda just stretched out across the queen bed in her jeans and sweater and within moments dropped into a deep sleep.
It surprised her how well and how long she slept. And the best part was she managed to avoid Xavier for most of the trip. Where he slept she had no idea, and she didn’t care.
If he could so easily put her behind him, then she could put him behind her, too.
By the time she woke they’d already refueled in Baltimore and were half way across the Atlantic. After breakfast, Xavier schooled her in palace protocol and then they were landing in Barcelona where they transferred to a helicopter for the last leg of the trip.
Nearly twenty-three hours after leaving San Francisco, Amanda touched down in Pasadonia. They flew in as day gave way to night. The city sprawled from harbor side to hillside to the beautiful white stone palace overlooking both. Lights were beginning to twinkle on throughout the city so the landscape appeared to glitter. Amanda’s breath caught at the magical impact.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed.
“Yes.” Xavier’s voice came through the earphones she’d been given. “Welcome to Pasadonia.”
And then they were flying over the palace turrets and she had impressions of lush grounds threaded with walkways guarded by statues. And the sparkle of water. “Is that a moat?”
“Once a upon a time it was. Now it is just a pond.”
Just. As if everyone had a pond in their yard. But then this wasn’t just a home; it was the heart of Pasadonia, the abode of the royal family and the governing bodies of the Principality.
Moments later the heliport loomed below them and the craft began the descent sending a sinking feeling to her stomach. Her heart beat a wild tattoo both at the landing and at the prospect of meeting her father.
Xavier assisted her in disembarking and kept hold of her hand. She gave him a look at the odd behavior, then remembered their cover and let her hand go limp in his.
Two people were waiting to assist them, a dignified man with a bald head dressed in full livery and a lovely dark-haired woman in a designer suit. Xavier introduced the man as Armand, head porter, and the woman as Elay
na Josef, assistant to the Social Secretary.
“Welcome mademoiselle,” Armand stated formally. “You have been given a room in the palace. Your luggage will be delivered to your room, if you will follow me.”
“Of course.” A little loopy from fatigue Amanda fell into step behind the man, wondering why the name Elayna sounded familiar. She slowed her pace falling behind a bit and Xavier matched his stride to hers.
“Social Secretary?” she questioned him. “I thought my presence was to be low key.”
“Do not worry. The Social Secretary has no interest in your arrival.” He cleared his throat. “Elayna is here more for me. I am involved in several of the festivities this week.”
“Oh. Oh! Elayna, your old girlfriend. The one you wouldn’t give up your career for.” Perfect. Just the person she wanted to meet upon arrival. Someone up in the cosmos had a cruel sense of humor. “Maybe we can form a club.”
“Behave yourself.” He took her elbow and hurried her along. But she saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
She bit her lips to hide a smile. Sometimes you had to laugh or you’d cry.
As they drew closer to the others, Elayna latched onto Xavier and started talking in a mix of English and French about people and events Amanda knew nothing about and only half understood. Too tired to care, she fixed her gaze on the porter’s back and put one foot in front of the other.
Once inside, she followed Armand through wide hallways dressed in quiet elegance. The art was museum quality and warranted a closer look but that was for another time.
“Mademoiselle Carn will be staying in the Champagne Suite.” Armand opened the door on a beautiful sitting room in cream and gold, the décor traditional elegance.
“I will leave you here, chéri.” The brunette interrupted in order to break away. Her brown eyes ate Xavier up, but cooled considerably when she turned to Amanda. “Welcome Ms. Carn. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
“You’re so kind.” Amanda wrapped her arm around Xavier’s waist and leaned against him. “I know Xavier was happy to see a friend here to greet us. He’s so worried I’ll feel like an outsider, he insists on spending every minute he can with me.”
The Making of a Princess Page 11
