Pretend Princess (Cordillera Royals Book 1)

by Carolyn Rae

  She turned to meet his gaze. He pulled her closer. Then his lips were on hers. His mouth roved over her face and returned to kiss her fiercely. “My Patricia, I’m not sure what you’ve done to me, but I don’t want you to leave.”

  “I have to go back, to finish my doctorate.”

  “Could we at least spend one night together? I know a cabin deep in the woods.”

  Her heart yearned to be with him again, to enjoy his wonderful caresses and feel his marvelous, sexy body entwined with hers. She wished she could, but she wouldn’t do that again without some promise of a future with him. That was as about as likely as a flower surviving a hailstorm.

  Taking his hand, she met his gaze. “What happened before—I was carried away. Sex should mean something. It should be an act of two people who want to share each other’s company because they care deeply for each other.”

  He frowned. “What do you really want?”

  “I want a man who would be faithful despite invitations from other women.”

  He smiled. “There are always lovely maidens seeking my attention.”

  “That’s because you are a prince. How many like you for yourself, as a man? Serena claims none of the women who chase after you really care about the person you are.”

  “Ah Serena. She is how do you say it, a bit bashful, but passionate about . . . life.”

  Tricia swallowed. She couldn’t help herself. The signs were all there. No wonder Serena had spoken so strongly about him. It hurt to think of Lawrence and Serena together . . . perhaps when Allysa was away on a goodwill tour. “Did you and she?”

  “A gentleman never breathes a word of scandal about a lady, but no, I brought her a trinket once after a trip, but I never shared her bed.”

  “Lawrence, you and I would never work out. We’re from different worlds. We can never be more than friends. You never listen to my pleas for improving the conditions for women in your country.

  Whom was she trying to fool? Arrogant or not, she couldn’t stay away from him. But all he wanted were a few nights between the sheets. Thank goodness, she was leaving tomorrow.

  Lawrence smiled beguilingly. “And what is your taste, my dear?”

  “A man who is interested in a woman as a person, not a man who just drools over her figure.”

  “Ah, but your figure is definitely one to watch. And I don’t drool. I enjoy. But I do love to touch.” He caressed her shoulder and ran his hand down over her breast, causing familiar tingles. Lifting her chin with his fingers, he brushed her lips with his. “What else do you look for in a lover?”

  Tricia took a step back. Standing this close made it hard to concentrate on what to say. “I want a man who asks me where I’d like to go on a date and listens to my ideas.”

  “Most women seem to like a man who is masterful, who plans events for her. What else do you like?”

  She thought a moment. “I want someone who shares the same values and wants to spend the rest of his life with me.”

  At his surprised look, she could tell he didn’t feel anywhere near that way about her. She sighed. “We’re different people with different values. We’re like oil and water—we don’t go together.”

  “It’s getting late. We need to get back before it gets light.” Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her gently. His kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, then fiercely ravenous as if he couldn’t get enough of her. “Tricia, please let me love you. My cabin isn’t far. We could be back long before dawn.”

  “No,” she whispered. She couldn’t help wishing she could, but she didn’t dare allow it. That would make it twice as hard to leave him. She sighed. Already, she felt the pain of his loss. Tonight was bittersweet. How long would it take before these days became only nostalgic memories of what could never be? Her hand strayed to his. She loved the feel of his warm fingers, loved his touch on her skin. His gaze met hers. “Having second thoughts, my love?”

  She shook her head. This was the way it had to be. “Take me back to the city.”

  He kissed her once more, long and leisurely. He looked in her eyes. “That will have to last me until I see you again.”

  Would that ever happen?

  The next afternoon at the airport, as she entered the gate to walk to the plane, she waved to her family. Her mother said, “You can’t believe how energized I feel after the conference we went to. There’s something really satisfying about throwing yourself into a cause,” her mother added. “You ought to consider it.”

  Tricia frowned. She’d had a cause, but the prince wasn’t interested. She looked around. He had told her he wouldn’t come. At least he was honest. But now she wondered why. Well, he had been interested in her, but was it only for sex? Was he ashamed of being seen with a commoner?

  Cindy kept saying she couldn’t wait to tell her friends back in the states about living in the palace. Becky had grumbled about having to make her bed and tidy up her room. Tricia would miss her family, but she’d really miss seeing Lawrence every day. He’d kissed her masterfully last night. She’d have to be content with that.

  * * *

  Back in Arlington, Texas, at the university, Tricia trudged into the office of Professor Albert Brooks for whom she worked as a graduate assistant. She had always looked up to him and thought him rather distinguished looking when he wore a suit. In casual clothes, his lanky frame appeared a bit bony. Although he was older, probably pushing forty from the gray at his temples, she’d enjoyed his wry wit.

  In the classroom, he was scrupulously careful not to sound disrespectful of those suffering from mental illness, but after class, his descriptions of his late aunt with Alzheimer’s running around the house naked and saying, “Don’t you like my birthday suit?” cracked Tricia up.

  He smiled at her now, seeming oblivious to the fact that his wavy hair was too long, even for an eccentric professor. “It’s good to have you back. I need your help in planning a new course for the next semester. I’d like to share my ideas with you over dinner. It’s Friday. Is it too much to hope that you’re free tonight?”

  “I’d be honored.” Why didn’t that thrill her as much as it would have before—before Prince Lawrence?

  Two hours later, she opened the door of her apartment to him. His admiring gaze warmed her. He smiled. “You look nice. You seem different somehow since you returned from Europe. You must have had a great experience.”

  She smiled. “I did. I was a stand-in for a princess who was indisposed and got to stay in the royal palace in Cordillera several days.”

  “Hmmm. Interesting.”

  She nodded. It had been more than interesting. It had been thrilling. Okay, so it was Prince Lawrence who thrilled her, who made her wish she had never left. She wondered what he was doing now—if he were whispering sweet nothings into some simpering maiden’s ear. Was he even now taking another woman out? She hoped not.

  She looked up to see Brooks staring at her. He must think she’d spaced out. She picked up a sweater. “The sights and the sounds of a small country that cheers its royal family on every occasion were stimulating. Nothing in the states can compare.”

  Later, at the Steak and Ale Restaurant, stuffed after visiting a bountiful salad bar and eating a thick juicy filet mignon and cheese-topped baked potato, she glanced at the old-fashioned bed-warming pan mounted on the wall. Somehow, it reminded her of the palace and all she’d left behind, especially Prince Lawrence.

  Professor Brooks leaned back in the wooden chair. “I want to explain the purpose of my study. It concentrates on the psychology of normal people and how far they can vary from the norm before they are considered by their society—let’s say well past oddball and on the way to abnormal.”

  “But where can you draw the line? Who is qualified to judge whether someone’s Aunt Susie is a bit eccentric or descending into mental illness?”

  “It’s very subjective like the legal guidelines for obscenity. We don’t use the local sense of what’s appropriate, but rather the resu
lts of a study of how people view those who are, let’s say, different.”

  “I see.” She wondered what he’d think of the way the king of Cordillera insisted on keeping married women from working. However, if Professor Brooks took a mistress that would not seem abnormal here. While she’d be disappointed if the professor had a mistress, the idea of Prince Lawrence having one bothered her . . . a lot.

  Face it, she told herself, if you can’t have him, why should you care whom he sleeps with? She felt a pain, somewhere in the area of her heart. Why couldn’t he see the way his country treated women was holding them back? And why, as Serena pointed out, should he have to marry a cold-spirited noble lady or princess, just to keep the royal blood pure? Serena would give him the adoration he wanted, but he couldn’t marry her either.

  Tricia gritted her teeth. Why did she care so much what happened to him? She was half a world away, with her own life to lead. The professor might even consider keeping her on as his associate after she obtained her doctor’s degree.

  The Professor leaned forward. “I want you with me on this.”

  Had she missed something? What exactly did he mean by that?

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Tricia met Professor Brooks’ gaze. “You want me with you on what . . . your new study?”

  He smiled and reached for her hand. “You have always been my best student and most helpful as my graduate assistant. It’s late. I’d better take you home.” He laid some bills down by the check and rose.

  She stood and reached for the sweater she’d brought.

  He held the sweater so she could slip into it, then brushed a kiss on the back of her neck. He’d never done that before. She couldn’t help wishing she felt Lawrence’s warm mouth on her neck instead. What was wrong with her? Lawrence wasn’t part of her world. He never could be.

  She looked at him questioningly.

  “I think it’s time I settled down.” He took her hand in his. “Let’s go.”

  As they walked out of the restaurant, she said, ““But you’ve been here at UTA for five years. You have a house and you’ve qualified for tenure. What more do you need?”

  “I’m not talking about work, although I’d appreciate your support and assistance. I want to get married, have a family and take an active part in the community.”

  “So, what’s stopping you?” She pulled her hand away from his. “Any woman should be proud to become your wife.”

  “I don’t want any woman. I want you.”

  Dumfounded, she stared at him. “You want to marry me?”

  He grinned. “Is that so surprising? We work well together. You’re dependable, have an even temper despite having strong opinions on things.”

  He hadn’t said anything about how she looked or even that he liked her. Was this the best she could hope for? “I don’t know what to say.”

  He leaned forward and took her hand again. His touch didn’t feel the same as Lawrence’s, didn’t make her feel anything. “Say yes. I know we could make a great team.”

  “I can’t give you an answer now, Professor Brooks.”

  “Please, call me Albert.”

  She took a deep breath, remembering the students called him “Old AB” behind his back. She’d have to be careful not to slip and let that out. “Uh, Albert, I need to think about it.”

  What she needed to think about was the impossibility of marrying Lawrence. She needed to forget how his smile lit up his face, how she felt so alive in his arms, and how much she wanted to kiss him again. And she needed to stop thinking about how he might warm some other pretty woman’s bed.

  Later, as Albert walked her to her door, she decided she should try to have an open mind about him. Let him kiss her goodnight and see how that made her feel. She didn’t have time to date much, and she did want to marry . . . some day.

  At her doorstep, Albert wrapped his long arms around her and pulled her to him. His narrow lips touched hers, tentative at first, and then more demanding. His long fingers gripped her shoulders so tightly, she wondered if she could break away. Of course, all she had to do was say the word, and he’d let go. But she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, at least not until she’d made up her mind what to tell him.

  He broke the kiss and dropped his arms. She could tell by the intense look on his face, that he was serious. “You’re a fine woman, one I’d be proud to introduce as my wife at faculty get togethers. It’s Friday. Suppose you think about my proposition over the weekend and tell me your decision next week.”

  “Uh, sure.” What else could she say? She’d be thinking about it all weekend instead of working on her dissertation. “Goodnight, Albert,” she said, hoping her tone sounded at least a bit warm and friendly.

  Quickly, she unlocked the door and slid inside. She waved, then closed the door firmly.

  Well, that didn’t leave her much choice. Since she couldn’t have Prince Lawrence, and Albert Brooks didn’t thrill her, maybe she should plan to enjoy being single and in control of her own destiny. Or she could go looking for another man here in the states, one who measured closer to Lawrence than Albert. But for now, she needed to finish her dissertation, and get her degree.

  The next morning, she started reading the replies to questionnaires she’d sent out. Somehow, she didn’t seem as enthused about that as she used to be. She had to stop thinking about Lawrence. Chalk him down as a pleasant interlude, nothing more.

  She immersed herself in devouring the latest studies comparable to hers, tabulated all the replies to the questionnaires and began writing. This was dull. She could hardly keep her eyes open. Why did she have to get drowsy when she had so much to do? With no classes to teach, after lunch, she decided she could afford a quick nap.

  She lay down, but couldn’t stop thinking about that marvelous time she and Lawrence had made love in that cave. She couldn’t make herself marry Albert.

  Life wasn’t fair. But now she needed to finish her project and start working with live people and document what made them culturally different. At least she wouldn’t have to travel far to study more of the Caribbean cultures. She didn’t dare include Cordillera. Someone would find out and tell the king, the queen, and worst of all, Prince Lawrence. He’d feel insulted, like she’d been studying his people like she would a colony of ants. No. Cordillera was interesting and different, but it would not be part of her study.

  After supper, she worked on it some more. At nine o’clock she was ready to call it a night when the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” she called.

  “I bring flowers for the lady,” said a deep voice that sounded familiar. It couldn’t be, could it?

  She looked through the peephole in the door. What she saw made her mouth drop open.

  Lawrence’s grin met her gaze. He was indeed holding a bouquet of yellow roses wrapped in green tissue paper.

  “Aren’t you going to let me in?” he asked in his deep velvet voice.

  Shocked, she yanked the door open, then remembered she was wearing an old sweatshirt and jeans. Her bare toes wriggled in her cinnamon colored carpet. “You should have called and told me you were coming.”

  “But I knew you’d want to see me, so I came right from the hotel.” He held his arms open. Like a dream, she floated into them.

  His exuberant kiss sent delicious shivers throughout her. Nothing could come of this, but she’d enjoy it while she could. She inhaled the aroma of his spicy aftershave and the scent of roses.

  When he finally broke the kiss, she became conscious of something soft tickling her neck. Must be the roses.

  He pulled his arm away and held them out to her. “Put these in a vase.”

  “You could at least suggest I might want to put them in a vase.”

  “Well, that’s what I meant. What difference does it make how I say it?”

  Tricia sighed. Telling others what to do was part of his nature. It shouldn’t matter since she wouldn’t have to deal with him on a regular basis. She squeezed her eyes shut. She nee
ded to forget all those dreams and just enjoy his presence for now. He had to marry royalty. At least she’d have this time with him and memories of him to keep.

  Lawrence kept on talking. “They treated me nicely at the hotel, but it wasn’t the same as in the palace. They just smiled and said, ‘right this way, sir’ and led me to my room.”

  “You can’t expect people to bow and scrape for you in the United States. Titles don’t mean anything here. But I bet the staff will go home and say they were lucky to wait on a prince.”

  He shrugged. “I thought the manager might at least suggest a parade for me.”

  Tricia tried not to laugh. “The Dallas Cowboys are the ones who get parades here.”

  “Cowboys? You mean the men who herd cows?”

  Tricia laughed. “No, silly. I mean the football team when they win a championship.”

  “You called me silly.” He laughed. “I see people here are definitely not awed by my presence. In Cordillera, they have parades when a noted professor wins an honor or a famous musician has won a competition.”

  Tricia patted his arm. “Now that’s where your country does something better than ours. I’m afraid the athletes get much more attention than those who excel in knowledge, music or art.”

  Lawrence grasped her hand and pulled her toward him. Laying the flowers down on a walnut end table, he said, “Let me hold you once more, and then you can do something with those flowers.”

  His arms warmed her sides and her back. She felt heavenly, just being in his arms. He kissed her softly. “I’d like to take you somewhere. What would you like? Dancing, dinner, a late movie?”

  She smiled. “See, it’s nice when a man asks me what I’d like to do. I know a night club where we can dance, and they have a show, but I’ll have to change clothes.”

  Holding the bouquet, with the tissue paper making crinkling noises, she walked past her brown and gold velvet couch into her tiny kitchen and put the roses in a vase.

  Fifteen minutes later, after changing into a russet silk dress that bared most of her shoulders, clung to her breasts, and flowed smoothly over her hips, she stepped into the living room. The look on his face warmed her body and sent shivers down her spine. He held out his arm. She took it, marveling again at the strength in his forearm.