Stranded

by Chance Carter

  She shrugged. “You said yourself. People have got marriage on the brain over here right now.”

  I took another bite of my sandwich, feeling much more relaxed. “Then what did you come for?”

  Svetlana reached for a sandwich herself and both of us slouched down further in our chairs.

  “It seems like we have a lot in common,” she said. “I’m planning to leave Sweden soon. Our public isn’t as obsessed as yours, but my family more than makes up for it by applying pressure of their own. I can’t take it anymore. Like I said, I don’t want to have children, I don’t think I want to get married. Imagine having to defend those choices every day to ten Edwards on crack.”

  I snorted. It made for an amusing visual.

  “I’d heard about you,” she continued. “The rebellious prince. I figured we would get along, and that you’d be a good friend to have when it came time for me to make my move—especially since my parents are more likely to accept my decision if they know I’m still fraternizing with royalty.”

  I finished my sandwich, absorbing her words.

  “Well,” I said, taking a sip of my prosecco. “Now I feel ridiculous.”

  Svetlana chuckled. “You should.”

  Her eyes twinkled with mirth. Cheeky.

  “I still want to help with your charity project, by the way,” she said. “I meant it when I said I thought it was an amazing idea.”

  “That’s kind of you.”

  She smiled. “What are friends for?”

  I returned her smile and raised my glass. “To friends.”

  “To friends.”

  We clinked glasses and drank, and suddenly the world didn’t seem as dark as it had an hour before. Fixing things with Svetlana was a far cry from fixing them with Tamara, but it felt good to know there was one more person in my corner.

  “You know,” I said, setting my drink down afterward. “If you’re looking to have a good time over here, I’ve got one person you simply must meet.”

  Svetlana raised a questioning brow. “Oh?”

  “My friend Teddy,” I explained. “He knows where all the best parties are and always has gossip on one person or another. He’s technically the son of a duke too, so you can tell your family that.”

  She nodded. “I would love to meet him. As long as you’re not trying to set me up.”

  I grinned. “Don’t worry. You’re not his type.”

  “And what about you?” Svetlana asked. “I imagine you’re in some pretty hot water over this actress scandal. What are you going to do?”

  I winced at the word scandal. I wouldn’t say things had escalated that far yet.

  “I need to make everything right,” I said. “And I suspect it won’t be easy.”

  Chapter 21

  Tamara

  I barreled through the press camped just off-set, round black-out shades complementing my scowl and making me feel very LA. The story broke a few days ago, but so far the paparazzi dogs showed no signs of retreat, and I didn’t blame them. Covering the royal pregnancy paled in comparison to the chance to get a juicy bit of gossip on the other prince, especially since according to them I was the first woman he’d shown a repeat interest in since before Edward and Clarissa were the ones being photographed on dates and mercilessly interrogated.

  I would feel special if I didn’t feel so goddamn attacked.

  Plus, the press weren’t the only ones trying to prod a reaction out of me. Alexander had been calling me since the day he showed up in my trailer, and I’d ignored every single one. I didn’t even listen to the voicemails he left. Too risky.

  My heart hurt. My head hurt. A giant weight seemed to crush my whole body every time I thought about his stupid handsome face or the way my heart flipped in somersaults every time he looked at me. It was easier to cut him off cold turkey, and I thought I’d done that when I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. Apparently, he could be quite resilient.

  I made it back to my flat without incident. So far, they’d left me alone at home. A blessing.

  I entered my flat with a great sigh, smiling when I saw Jo hovering in the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea. “Hey sis.”

  “Hey.” I dropped my back and accepted the mug. “What’s this for?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said, screwing up her face in a way that indicated it was definitely something. “I just thought you might like a nice cup of tea after a long day of work. Anyway. I’m going to go now.”

  She went to sidestep me and I grabbed her by the arm. “Jo? Why are you acting so...”

  I heard a noise from the living room and my gaze flicked over to where Alex now stood in the doorway.

  “What the hell, Jo?” I shot her an accusing glare.

  She carefully pried my fingers off her arm and winced. “What could I do? He’s a prince, man.”

  With that horrible excuse hanging in the air, Jo grabbed her purse form the counter and slipped out the door. My knuckles turned white from how hard I gripped the handle of the mug.

  I’d never seen Alex look so nervous. He wrung his hands together and walk toward me slowly, like I might sprint in the other direction or throw my tea in his face. I gritted my teeth and tried not to listen to the part of my body that lit up the second his smell hit my nostrils.

  “There’s a reason I didn’t return your calls,” I said. “I meant what I said so I hope you didn’t come here to change my mind.”

  I tried to make my tone as cold as possible but I forgot how his lips seemed to form an eternal smile, even when he was nowhere near smiling. I forgot that his eyes had little bits of gold in the green, and that when he looked at me I knew he saw only me.

  I needed to get my shit together fast, else dissolve into a puddle on the floor.

  “I know,” he said. “I wanted to apologize.”

  “Apology accepted.” I swung aside and gestured for the door.

  Alex chuckled.

  “It was worth a try,” I muttered.

  “I should have never told you to get a thicker skin,” he said. “I understand why you’re cut up about the press and I don’t want to cause you any further pain in that regard.”

  I shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot. I appreciated the apology, but his unfiltered criticism had been a bit of a wakeup call for me.

  Since my breakup with Michael, I’d burrowed into my fear of the media and let it control me. My continued desire to stay separate from Alex was because of more than just that, though. I still thought it for the best. After all, I was leaving soon and I already cared more about him than I should have. Why risk exposing myself to derision from the public and eventual heartbreak when I could just cut it off now?

  “You were right, by the way,” he continued. “I used you the same way I used partying, and that wasn’t fair on you or on my family. I need to be better. I want to be better.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “And I want to be better with you.”

  I sighed. “Alex—“

  He put up a hand to stop me. “Becoming the prince I need to be means no more secret relationships.” He grinned wickedly. “As fun as it was.”

  I frowned, confused. “Okay, so we’re on the same page then.” Why did I feel just a little bit disappointed? I needed to get my mood in check. I was going insane.

  “Not exactly,” he said. “I want you to come to the garden party with me. As my date.”

  My refusal was a knee-jerk reaction to the idea of exposing myself like that.

  “Absolutely not.”

  Alex stepped up until our chests brushed. I knew I should put some distance between us but couldn’t make my feet move, and when he laid his hand on my cheek I wondered if I’d ever be able to move again.

  “Kitty Kat,” he murmured. “The best way to deal with the press is to ride out the storm. We can do that together and come out on top. I know we can.”

  “But what’s the point?” My voice sounded small and I put a little more power in my next words. “I�
��m going to be leaving in a couple of months, Alex. Don’t you think it would be easier just to end things now? Why risk making it worse?”

  He smiled gently. His thumb caressed my cheek and I swallowed hard.

  “The point is,” he said, lowering his face toward mine, “that I can’t stay away from you, Tamara.” Our breath mingled in the small space and I tried to think about anything other than how much I wanted to kiss him. “And I don’t think you can stay away from me either.”

  His lips were so close. So inviting. I saw the sincerity in his eyes, and felt the responding answer in my chest.

  Alex was right. Whether I liked it or not, there was something about him that I wasn’t ready to let go of, even if I knew that I should. From the second he showed up in my flat I was a goner.

  I couldn’t help myself. I bridged the gap and kissed him.

  My broken heart mended in an explosion of heat and happiness, drowning all my worries as the sensation of Alex’s lips on mine swept through me. It was perfection. His hand tightened on my face and tilted my chin up while the other wrapped around my waist and pulled me tight to his body. I gripped the cool material of his shirt in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

  “Tamara,” he whispered against my mouth. A plea? A promise?

  I answered with a swipe of my tongue over his lips, and he moaned and deepened our kiss. I felt him harden against my hip. Fuck, just thinking about his dick made me wet. Fire bloomed deep in my core and sizzled through my veins, and I made desperate noises against his mouth as his lips crushed against mine.

  Alex grabbed my ass, hauling me tight against his bulge. I groaned and scrambled to pull him closer. My nails dug into his chest, his back, the hard curve of his ass. My desire had never diminished while I ignored him, had just sat dormant, growing. His kiss unleashed it and I thought I would die.

  “Bedroom,” I managed to mumble.

  Alex lifted me bridal style without breaking the kiss, carrying me on sure feet to my bedroom and dropping me onto the mattress.

  I started ripping off my clothes, pleased to see that he was doing the same. The air was electric. It burned my lungs on every breath and left me gasping. Alex watched me with dark eyes while I finished undressing, tossing my underwear across the room just as he pushed his boxers down his hips.

  That cock. Fuck.

  It jutted proudly between his legs, thick and swollen with desire. I scooted to the edge of the bed and wrapped my hand around the shaft, squeezing as my other hand massaged his balls.

  Alex’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. “Fuck, Tamara.”

  I stroked down his length, admiring the bulbous tip and pulsing vein. My pussy throbbed at the thought of him entering me, and I looked up with pleading eyes.

  Alex’s nostrils flared. He pushed me on my back, stretched out with my feet touching the floor, and reached to the floor for a second before coming back up with a condom.

  Once sheathed, he grasped a thigh in each hand and pulled me so my ass lined up with the edge of the bed. His eyes were hard, like chunks of granite. I matched his ferocity with some of my own and met his gaze.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said, leaning over me and pushing my knees to my chest.

  His cock speared into me, driving in to the hilt. He felt deeper than he’d ever been before and I cried out from the delicious mixture of pleasure and pain.

  “All I can think about,” he said, pulling out. “Is fucking you. All day. All night.”

  He slammed in again and I struggled to catch my breath.

  Alex’s mouth crashed into mine and he kissed me fiercely as he thrust in and out in smooth, powerful strokes. I felt every inch of him. Every stroke. My body swirled with perfect bliss, more sensation than woman.

  We bucked against each other, straining for release. It struck me that when people spoke of passion, they wanted this. It was bare. Raw. Primal in a way that nothing else in life could be in this age. No crown could civilize the way our bodies smashed together.

  Alex growled against my lips, signaling he was close. Fuck, I was close too. Each jerk of his hips shoved me closer and closer to the precipice, and I was mere seconds from crashing over. I couldn’t be sure that I would survive when I did.

  I scraped my nails down Alex’s back and he let out a mighty roar, slamming his hips against mine so hard I moved up the bed. A blast of lightning hit me in the core and I came hard, clamping down on his cock and milking him. He shuddered and held himself inside of me, cock spasming.

  It felt like hours before I could breathe normally but it was only a few minutes. Alex was in no hurry to move off me, and I was in no hurry for him to move. I missed the smell of his sweat, the feel of his hot skin sticking to mine in the moments after climax. I missed how his breath tickled the hairs on my neck and he always kissed me sweetly right before he moved away.

  Alex’s lips brushed over my neck and he rolled to the side, landing with a sigh on the mattress. He reached for my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles.

  “So,” he said. “Will you accompany me to the garden party?”

  “How you can speak so formally after fucking me like an animal, I’ll never know.”

  He shot me a cocky grin. “That’s a yes?”

  “Yes,” I said, rolling my eyes even as a smile dug into my cheeks.

  Alex kissed my hand again. “Excellent. There is one small matter to attend to first.”

  “Yeah? And what’s that?”

  “You’re going to have to meet my family.”

  Chapter 22

  Alexander

  In all the years I’d occupied this apartment, the carpet had never seen such abuse. Tamara’s quick strides took her from one end of my sitting room to the other, then back again. The electricity of her nervousness crackled through the air, and I struggled to think of ways to calm her down. I’d already tried alcohol.

  Hank, distressed both by Tamara’s mood and by the oddity of having someone else in my apartment, whimpered from his bed in the corner. Apparently, I was the only one able to keep a cool head.

  “Tamara,” I said softly. I stood by the fireplace, holding a glass of wine. Tamara clutched hers in a claw-like grip but hadn’t drank from it.

  “This is crazy,” she muttered. I wasn’t sure if she was talking to me. “I’m about to meet the king. The king! And your brother and sister...oh god. What if they don’t like me? What if they hate me? What if they have me deported?”

  She stopped on a dime and spun to face me. I thought that letting her chew through it on her own was the best way to go, but the look on her face said otherwise. I placed my glass down on the mantle and approached her, twining my arms around her back and nuzzling into the top of her head.

  “You’re going to do just fine,” I said. “They have no reason to dislike you.”

  “That’s not what the tabloids say.”

  I pulled back and guided her chin up so our eyes met. “Don’t listen to those cheap fluff pieces. The only thing they’re designed for is selling papers, not perpetuating truths.”

  Her lips turned down in a pout. I kissed them until they formed a smile.

  “We should go,” I said, checking my watch. “They’ll be waiting for us.”

  Tamara knocked back her wine in two gulps and then ran her hands down the front of her dress, smoothing the wrinkles. I tossed Hank a bone on our way out the door and led Tamara by the hand to the reception room.

  Edward, Clarissa, and Victoria were waiting there for us. My father always arrived exactly on time, not one second before or after, and Nana was going to meet us in the dining room after she finished up some work downstairs.

  Victoria bounced over to us, grinning like a madwoman. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

  “You as well,” Tamara said, extending a hand. She’d smoothed her expression into one of cultivated calm. “And thank you for having me for dinner.”

  “Are you kidding? There’s no way we’d skip out on a
chance to meet Alex’s first girlfriend.”

  Tamara glanced over questioningly.

  “Did I not mention you’re the first girl I’ve had over for dinner?” I asked.

  I would object to Tamara being my first girlfriend, except I couldn’t remember another woman in my life who’d fit the title. I’d gone out with a few girls, but none had ever met my family, nor had I discussed any sort of label with them. I suppose that did make Tamara my first girlfriend. Huh.

  “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or concerned,” she joked.

  Victoria giggled. “When it’s Alex, concerned is always a safe choice.”

  “Now, now,” said Edward, arriving beside Victoria. “It would be terribly bad form to scare her away before the first course.” He winked. “Wait until dessert, at least.”

  Clarissa stood beside him serenely, a polite smile on her lips. “I’m a fan of your work, Tamara,” she said. “I never miss an episode of your show.”

  Tamara blushed. “Thank you.”

  “That makes two Princess of Nowhere fanatics in this place,” I said. “Soon I’ll be outnumbered.”

  The carved double doors at the side of the room opened and my father entered in a pressed navy suit, regal even without his crown. He didn’t hide his initial inspection of Tamara, but thankfully he appeared to like what he saw.

  “Miss Callahan,” Father boomed, taking her hand.

  Tamara performed a small curtsey, just like we’d practiced. I’d insisted that a full-length bow was strictly unnecessary but she wouldn’t meet a king without at least doing a curtsey.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “Please, call me Henry,” he said.

  He released her hand and turned to me. “Shall we?”

  I nodded.

  Nana arrived in the dining room just as we all took our seats, and her face glowed the minute she set eyes on Tamara.

  “You are even more beautiful in real life!” she crooned.

  I chuckled. “Tamara, this is Violet, who I’ve told you about.”

  “Nobody calls me Violet,” Nana said with a dismissive hand gesture. “Call me Nana.”