A Princess Next Door (Rothman Royals Book 1)

by Noelle Adams

  “Amalie!” he called again, something intense on his face that I could see even across the distance and the commotion.

  I made a funny little noise in my throat as I saw him try to get through the procession. I could even see him muttering something in frustration. Maybe, “Damn it. What the hell is going on?”

  “Your young man seems to have something to say to you,” my father said, perfectly calm as he always was, with just the slightest note of amusement in his tone.

  “He’s…he’s…” There was no way I could finish the sentence. Deep emotion ached, rose in my chest as I watched Jack try to get around the Guards to reach me.

  “He looks like he might explode at any moment,” Edward murmured.

  I could barely even register surprise that Edward had spoken, had noticed someone else, because I couldn’t look away from Jack. He did look like he was going to explode with some sort powerful urgency that compelled him.

  Finally, he made a wordless sound so loud I could hear it from the platform and pushed his way through the row of guards. All of the gathered tourists were staring at him, but he didn’t appear aware of them at all.

  He strode toward me and had almost reached the steps to the platform when he was stopped by the extended swords of two guards who were positioned in front of my father.

  For a moment, I thought Jack would actually try to fight the guards, but my father said mildly, “Let him through,” and the guards returned their swords to their upright, ceremonial position.

  I stared at Jack dazedly as he approached me. He reached to take both of my hands. “Amalie,” he said hoarsely. “Baby, please don’t do anything stupid. I know I’ve been selfish and close-minded and that you’re really upset about everything, but you can’t marry this asshole. You can’t.”

  My mouth dropped open, and my eyes moved briefly to Edward, who was blinking in surprise.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

  “I’m not going to marry her,” Edward said after a minute, when I still couldn’t speak and it looked like Jack might just drag me away. “I’m going to marry Victoria, and I’d never marry a woman who was in love with someone else.”

  It was Jack’s turn to blink. He looked from me to Edward and then to me again. “Oh. Good. I’d thought so, but then I saw Amalie up here, and I thought…I was afraid…” He trailed off. “You’re not going to marry him?”

  “Of course not,” I rasped, my hands trembling in his. “But I thought you didn’t believe in applying pressure.”

  “I don’t.”

  “You just made a huge scene in front of all these people. You called Edward an asshole. You called me baby in front of my father. This feels like pressure.”

  Jack’s mouth twisted slightly. “Well, maybe I’m desperate enough to apply a little pressure. But only when absolutely necessary.” He glanced over at my father self-consciously. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

  I was too confused and excited and thrilling with something like hope to be of much help in this situation. But my father looked like he was trying not to laugh. “I think you’d better, young man.”

  “Thank you, sir. I mean, your Highness.” Jack glanced at me quickly and muttered, “Is that right?”

  “Close enough,” my father said, looking in amusement toward Edward.

  If I’d been in better shape to notice such things, I would have been shocked that it looked like Edward was almost—almost—smiling back.

  “You’ve interrupted proceedings here enough,” my father continued. “You may be excused for the time being.”

  I gave a foolish little giggle as Jack and I walked down the platform. Everyone was still watching us, and I didn’t relax until we’d reentered the palace.

  Jack took my hand as we walked up the stairs.

  We went to my bedroom. As soon as he’d closed the door, I sat down onto the chaise and covered my face with my hands, letting go of the tension for a moment.

  Jack strode over and sank down onto his knees in front of me, taking both of my hands in his again.

  “I’m so sorry about the hoopla out there,” he said hoarsely. “I just couldn’t wait to talk to you anymore, and I guess I kind of lost it.”

  “What was it all ab—”

  “I needed to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “For expecting you to sacrifice everything when I had to sacrifice nothing. For assuming there was an easy answer for you, just because it was easy for me. You were right all along. I was wrong. I was selfish. I was an asshole without even knowing it.”

  “No, you weren’t—”

  “Yes, I was. I wanted you so much that I refused to understand what all of this means to you. But I heard you yesterday morning, when you were talking about all the kings. I heard how proud you were, how much you loved them, how much a part of you this place, this history really is. And I heard you with your sister earlier. How much you love her, and how it’s breaking you apart to have this distance from her. And I heard you with your mother just now. You’re right. You’re entirely right. You should be able to be you and still be a princess. And I should love all of you. I do love all of you. And I’ll give up anything I need to if it means we can be together.”

  I stared down at him speechlessly, hardly believing he was saying what he was saying, even though his actions earlier should have showed me it was coming. A shudder of excitement started in my chest and slowly radiated out through my body.

  “I don’t know if you were even aware of what you said earlier to your mother,” Jack went on, his face twisting with emotion in a way I’d never seen from him before. “But you said you would love me if you wanted to. I hope you meant that, Amalie. I really hope you did. Because I love you more than anything, and I hope you’ll let me love you the way you deserve.”

  I was almost choking on emotion, but I managed to force out something stupid. “But you said it was casual between us.”

  “I just said that to give you a way out. So you wouldn’t be scared to give in. It was never casual for me.”

  “Truly?”

  “Truly.” He gave me a broken smile. “I love all of you, Amalie. And I want you to be a princess, if that’s what you want.” His eyes lowered for just a moment before he added, “But I also want you to be my princess.”

  I burst into tears and threw my arms around his neck, and we hugged urgently—and rather awkwardly—for a long time, half on and half off the chaise.

  When we finally recovered, Jack got up and sat beside me, pulling me into a gentle hug. “Was that a yes?”

  “Yes. It was a yes. I want to be your princess.”

  His arms tightened briefly. “And you love me?”

  “Yes. I love you. It was never truly casual for me either.”

  I could hear and feel him let out a long breath. “So you think we can work things out? We can do the long-distance thing for a while, if you need to. Or I can look into ways of working remotely for part of the year. I’ll go to fancy parties as much as is required, and I’ll play nice with anyone you need me to. I want to do right by you, Amalie Rothman. Because I love you and you deserve it.”

  “I want to go to graduate school in Minneapolis,” I told him.

  He smiled. “That’s good then.”

  “But maybe I could spend summers and holidays here, and then after I graduate we could figure out another arrangement. I don’t want you to give up the things in your life that are important to you either.”

  “I’m sure we can make it work. If we both agree that both of our lives are equally valuable, then we can figure out something.”

  I nodded. “Good.”

  “Good.”

  I smiled at him, soaking in the return of the dry amusement between us. Then, overwhelmed with emotion, I pulled his head down into a kiss.

  We spent the next half-hour tangled up together on my bed, our clothes littering the floor, doing some things
my mother definitely wouldn’t approve of.

  But neither of us seemed to care.

  ***

  Two weeks later, I was coming back from my art history seminar at five-thirty in the evening. I only had two more days of the seminar left, and part of me was relieved.

  It had been an amazing learning experience, and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. But spending all day in one class, for two whole weeks, was absolutely exhausting.

  Plus, I was still dealing with the lingering notoriety from my mother’s meddling a couple of weeks ago. It wasn’t uncommon for a few photographers to show up where I was, snapping pictures. Hans had had to step up his security and act like a real bodyguard.

  It was unavoidable, though, and Jack and I were getting used to it. I was also hopeful that pretty soon another story would drown out the interest in the princess of a tiny country no one had heard of who was going to school in Minnesota.

  There were definitely some annoyances with being a princess and living the life I did. I was in a good mood now, though, as I knocked on Jack’s door.

  “Come in,” he called out, his voice slightly muffled.

  I opened his door and stepped in, finding him coming out of his bedroom. He’d obviously just gotten home and had changed clothes. He wore a pair of workout shorts and was pulling on a T-shirt.

  He smiled when he saw me, reaching out to pull me into a kiss. “You look tired,” he murmured.

  “I am tired.”

  “How about we order pizza?”

  “We had pizza a few days ago.”

  “What’s your point?”

  I giggled. “Okay. We can order pizza, as long as you eat a salad I’ll make with it.”

  He made a face but nodded in agreement. “I was going to work out first. Do you want to join me?”

  I didn’t really want to exercise this evening, but I knew it would be a good idea and I’d feel better if I did. So I agreed reluctantly. “Just let me change clothes.”

  “I’ll come with you,” he said, grabbing his keys and his shoes.

  “Why?”

  “So I can watch. Why did you think?” He gave me a teasing, smoldering look.

  Laughing again, I told him, “Well, don’t get any ideas. Working out is going to take all the energy I have this evening.”

  When we got to my apartment, Jack sat down on my bed while I pulled out my workout clothes. “You look happy,” he murmured, his eyes resting on my face.

  “I am. Victoria called me this afternoon. My phone was off, but I called her back on the way home.”

  “So it was a good talk?”

  “Y-yes. It was pretty good. Not like we used to talk, but much better than nothing. She’s getting married this summer.”

  Jack shook his head. “That sounds pretty dubious to me.”

  “I know. I hope she’ll be all right. But she’s absolutely set on it, and she seems to think they’ll manage all right.”

  “Does that man ever say more than a few words at a time?”

  “I don’t think so. The most I’ve ever heard him speak was at that scene you made at the processional. He must think he’s too good for idle conversation. I don’t know. I certainly wouldn’t want to marry him.” I sighed, fighting that shiver of worry. “Well, if it’s bad, she can always divorce him. I’ll keep checking up on her so she doesn’t feel trapped.”

  “Yes. That’s important.”

  I’d taken off my clothes and was starting to pull on a T-shirt when I noticed Jack’s eyes were focused hotly on the vicinity of my chest. “Jack,” I said, feigning sharpness. “We’re having a conversation.”

  “You better put on your shirt then.”

  I did just that—as well as my shorts, shoes, and socks—and was smiling fondly as I walked over to the bed to kiss him. He dragged me down with him, but when the kiss got too urgent, I pulled away. “I thought you wanted to work out.”

  Jack groaned. “I do.”

  “So work out first. Then pizza and salad. Then maybe sex, if I still have the energy.”

  Jack chuckled and put his arm around me as we left the room.

  Just as we were stepping out of my apartment, a delivery man arrived with a bouquet of flowers for me.

  They were gorgeous—silver and purple and green—and I stared at them in wonder in the doorway.

  “Who the hell sent you those?” Jack grumbled. “You better not have a secret admirer.”

  “It’s not a secret admirer,” I said, my voice wobbling slightly.

  Jack’s expression sobered as he peered at my face and then studied the bouquet. “They’re like those flowers from the painting you showed me—in the Villemont colors.”

  “Yes.”

  Then enlightenment dawned. “They’re from your mom.”

  “Yes. They’re from her.”

  There was no card, but I didn’t need one. My mother would always be who she was, but this was her gesture of peace.

  I was still part of the Rothman family. I was still a princess.

  But I was also Amalie, graduate student in art history, who was crazy in love with Jack Watson.

  And maybe the world was truly big enough to let me be both.

  Epilogue

  Two months later, I was waiting anxiously at the airport in Geneva for Jack’s plane to deboard.

  Hans was standing a short distance away, but otherwise I’d come to the airport alone. There was going to be people and hassle and hoopla enough this week—as Victoria and Edward got married. I figured I could greet Jack alone and in peace.

  I hadn’t seen him in almost a month, since I’d spent the past few weeks in Villemont helping with preparations for the wedding and reconnecting with my family.

  My graduate coursework would start up again in a couple of weeks, and I’d return to Minneapolis and Jack. But first we had to get through the wedding.

  My whole body jerked in excitement when I saw Jack’s big, familiar body striding through the crowd of other passengers on their way to ground transportation or baggage claim. He saw me and grinned, his stride accelerating.

  He dropped his bag and scooped me into a hug when he’d reached me.

  After more of a kiss than I’d been expecting—and one that left me flushed and panting—I smiled up at him and said, “I missed you!”

  “Not as much as I missed you.”

  The summer hadn’t been without its stresses and complexities—as Jack and I had navigated a relationship between two entirely different worlds—but it had been the best summer of my life, and I wouldn’t have gone back to the way things were before for anything.

  And the best thing was I knew Jack felt exactly the same way.

  “You’re even dressed up,” I said, my eyes running up and down his slightly wrinkled dress shirt and dark gray-brown trousers.

  He grinned at me. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just stared as he put down his bag on an empty seat and unzipped it. As I watched, he pulled out a jacket that matched his trousers and put it on.

  He held up a hand when I opened my mouth to exclaim at his wearing the suit coat. “Not yet,” he murmured.

  Then he pulled a tie out of his bag—a green, purple, and silver striped tie, the Villemont colors—and he wrapped it around his neck and under his collar before he tied it off.

  I stared at him, awed and filled with emotion that threatened to choke me. “You wore a suit and tie!” I breathed, when I could finally form words.

  He gave a sheepish nod and tried to brush out a couple of wrinkles from his shirt.

  “For me?”

  “Of course, for you. And your family.”

  There was no way to properly respond to this except by throwing myself back in his arms.

  I might have been a slightly spoiled princess, but Jack’s little gesture was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

  And not for the world would I mention that his tie didn’t really matc
h his suit.

  ***

  The next story in the Rothman Royals series is A Princess for a Bride, about Victoria and Edward. Because of scheduling conflicts, I can’t release it until February, but you can be looking out for it then. In the meantime, I’ll have Christmas in Eden Manor coming out in early October, and Trophy Wife coming out in December. An excerpt from Trophy Wife follows.

  If you want to keep up with my new releases and sales, you can sign up for my newsletter through this link.

  Excerpt from Trophy Wife

  Two hours later, Allison pulled her father’s old tank of an Oldsmobile back into her driveway. She’d tried to be careful at the store, but her trunk was filled and she’d spent way too much money.

  Plus, the Walmart had been packed out on a Sunday.

  It was four in the afternoon, and she was exhausted. It was just early May, but the air was hot and humid today, and she was sweating, even in her sleeveless top.

  She was leaning over into the trunk to gather up as many bags as she could carry when a voice behind her surprised her. “You need some help?”

  She straightened up with a jerk, turning to see a man beside her wearing faded jeans and a white T-shirt. He looked to be in his thirties. He needed to shave and his brown hair was too long, and he had the rough look of a man who worked with his hands. He’d startled her so much she just stared at him. “What?”

  “Do you need some help?” he asked again, gesturing toward her trunk. “Carrying all that in?”

  She frowned. Who the hell was this guy? And did she really look so helpless that she couldn’t unload her own trunk by herself. “Oh. No. I’ll be okay. Thank you.” Several bags were already hooked over her arms, so she gave him an absent smile and turned to walk up the steps to the front door.

  She had some trouble getting her key into the door with the bags on her hand, but she’d almost gotten the door unlocked when she suddenly felt someone behind her, swinging open the storm door that had been propped against her back.

  She gave a little squeal of surprise as she turned to see the man she’d thought she’d dismissed. He had twice as many bags hooked over his arms as she was able to carry.