by Nikki Steele
Heck, I didn’t even know if I was allowed to tell my friends about him—I didn’t want to be the cause of a royal scandal!
I looked at him surreptitiously as I pulled the door keys from my purse. Eventually, he’d have to leave. Whatever we had started last night, as magical as it was, it ended when he got on that plane to go home. Could I do that to myself?
Baxter’s frenzied jumping dragged me from my musings. He leaped up; tail wagging like a madman, then zoomed down the path and back as soon as we’d opened the door. Xander laughed, bending down on one knee to tussle the hyperactive, excited ball of fluff. “I missed you too Baxter—I guess your mother stayed out later than intended!”
He looked up at me and winked as the dog began licking his hand. “We’re going to have to invest in a babysitter, so he doesn’t get lonely.”
My arms wrapped around myself. “So you want to see me again?” He hadn’t brought up the topic at breakfast.
“Of course I do,” he said, standing to kiss me on the lips.
I didn’t uncross my arms. “Are you even allowed to kiss me in public? You are a prince after all.”
His face settled. “Ah. Now I understand why you were so quiet this morning. Perhaps we should go inside and talk.”
* * *
“I apologize for not telling you sooner.”
“Were you embarrassed about me? Didn’t want your subjects finding out?”
Xander shook his head. Baxter wiggled in his lap. “Back home I’m surrounded by people that want me for false pretenses. I didn’t want that to happen here. I didn’t want… whatever it is we’ve got… to be tainted by that.”
“And what is it that we’ve got?”
“I’m still trying to work that out. Can I be honest?”
“Please. Finally.”
He looked at me, a stern expression crossing his face. “I didn’t lie to you Kate. Everything I’ve ever said was the truth; it always will be.”
“You said you were in politics!”
“I am.”
“You said you were an Ambassador!”
“I am… sort of.”
“Then you just forgot to mention you’re a prince?”
He winced. “I said I was honest, I didn’t say I was a fool. You would have treated me differently.”
“Oh, and how’s that your Majesty?”
He raised an eyebrow, his point made for him.
I quietened. “Are you going soon?”
He nodded. “I got the call this morning. I’m required back in Alonia two weeks from now. I won’t be able to return for some time.”
“So where does that leave us?”
“You’re the most interesting, caring, beautiful woman I’ve ever met,” Xander said. He covered Baxter’s ears with both hands. “And the sex is mind blowing, too.” He let the ears go. The little dog licked him. “I’d like to see you again—during the day and during the night.”
I stood, walking away from him. Last night had been wonderful. But more than that, every encounter before then had been wonderful too. Dinner, dress shopping, our walk around the lake—each time I met with Xander, it was the best part of my day. Only that first, horrible meeting when we both knelt in front of his car had been unpleasant.
In such a short time, Xander had become a part of my life. If I let it go on for two more weeks, how would I feel?
And then there was Baxter. The little tyke had already fallen head over heels for him. I’d heard single moms only let men get close to their kids when they knew they would hang around—it was too rough on the child otherwise. Did Baxter deserve any different?
Things had suddenly become real. It was time to make last night either a pleasant, no-strings-attached fling, or the start of a two week relationship that ended in heartbreak. It was time to look after me.
“I don’t think I can do it, Xander.”
His hand stilled on Baxter. “What do you mean?”
“A one night stand, I can handle. But a two week stand? That wouldn’t be a stand at all. Emotions would complicate things.”
His voice was quiet. “What if I told you emotions were already complicating things?”
“You said you would be honest with me. So answer me this—could it ever be more than two weeks?”
“… No.”
“Then why start? Things will only get worse.” Baxter looked up at the tone in my voice. He began to whine.
“But last night you said we could see each other again!”
“It's a woman's right to change her mind.”
“I’ll change it back. We’ll make the best of the time we have.”
I shook my head, eyes glistening. “It doesn’t work like that. Not with me. Every time I saw you, I’d also see you leaving.”
“I don’t want this to end. It feels like something wonderful is just beginning.”
“If you care about me even a little, it must end, Xander.” My voice choked. “Please, don’t make this any harder.” Baxter leapt from Xander’s lap, padding across the floor to nuzzle my leg, whining.
Xander looked as if he might protest, but his shoulders suddenly slumped. “You’re right of course. It’s for the best. In two weeks-time I’m going to have to leave, and when I do...” his fists clenched. “I can’t stay here, and I can’t take you with me.” He stood up. “Kate—maybe we could…”
His words trailed off as my head pointedly turned away from him. I didn’t want to hear it—I was fighting so hard not to cry already.
“I’ll let myself out then.”
At the door he stopped, turned and bowed. I found my eyes focusing on him once more. “It was truly a pleasure,” he said softly. “I value and will treasure each moment that I have known you. I only wish things could have been different.” He turned and walked stiffly down the path.
Baxter trotted to the door, watching him go. Then he sat down as the car door closed, and began to pine.
CHAPTER TWO
I sighed into my coffee. It was bland, just like the half eaten doughnut beside it. Had I ever enjoyed these things? In the week since I last saw Xander, nothing had tasted good; flavor just another of the many things it seemed was missing from my life.
Baxter hardly left the window these days. It was a fight to get him to go for walks. It had been a fight to take him to the vet this morning.
Cutting things off before they could start had been the right thing to do, I knew it. But if it was so right, why did I leap for the phone every time it rang? And why did we both race to the door every time there was a knock? If Xander was a prince, I was a damsel in a distress of my own making.
Work wasn’t the distraction I’d hoped for. The girls had noticed something was wrong—no-one just volunteered to empty bed pans when it was quiet. But I hadn’t wanted to talk.
I didn’t want to talk to anyone really. Anyone except him.
A text beeped—Baxter was ready to be picked up. The coffee was tasteless. My life was too. I left the warm liquid where it was and walked out the door.
* * *
Something felt different at the surgery when I arrived. The nurses were all looking at me, and I could swear they whispered when I walked past.
I ignored them. The first time I’d been in this hallway was the first time I’d met Xander. He’d been carrying Baxter like a fireman would a small child—protectively, his broad arms tender and caring. I’d been too worried about my little dog to notice him then. But after Baxter turned out okay? I think I’d fallen for him, right there and then.
Did everything have to remind me of-
My thoughts broke off as I turned into Baxter’s room. Someone was blocking my view. Someone I recognized. He’d been stroking Baxter, who was sitting on the operating table, but straightened at my drawn breath.
A million thoughts ran through my stunned mind. But as Xander stepped to the side, my first words were a puzzled question. “Is my dog wearing a bow tie?”
Baxter sat on his haunches proudly, a crisp
black tie around his neck, a single red rose in his mouth. He gave a muffled bark, tail thumping.
Xander’s eyes were still just as beautiful as I remembered. “Hi Kate.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Hi.”
“So don’t overreact, but I might have bribed the surgery to tell me when you were coming.”
“That… explains a lot,” I said, thinking of how long it had taken to get Baxter’s stitches removed. Why did I feel like crying? Was I happy to see Xander? Or scared at what he might say? “It’s… good to see you.”
Happy, I thought. But scared, too.
Baxter leapt adroitly from the table, trotting forward to drop the rose at my feet. I bent down to pick it up, patting him on the head. “What on earth have you done to my dog? Have you been teaching him tricks?”
“We had a chat. I said that if he wants me to start taking him for walks, he needs to start pulling his weight—get you onside.”
“So this is about Baxter now, is it?”
Xander nodded. “Totally, one hundred percent about Baxter. I haven’t been missing you at all—not even in the slightest.”
I smiled. “Really.”
He nodded again. “If you’re up for it, maybe you would consider giving me visitation rights. They’d have to be chaperoned of course, but I’d be amendable to that.”
“Really?” I said again. “And just who do you think would chaperone these visits?”
His eyes met mine. “You will.” He moved close. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve been missing you almost as much as I’ve missed Baxter.”
I stepped back. I wanted to. I wanted to so much, but… “You have to leave in a week.”
“I… pulled some strings. I’m here for another month. I’ll have to leave eventually, but not yet.”
“We can’t be an item Xander. Not if you’re going.”
He held up his hands. “And if all I can be is your friend, then so be it. Better I eat a little of love than not at all.”
“I don’t know if I can even do that.”
“Don’t you owe it to yourself—and Baxter—to try?”
Baxter barked at the sound of his name.
“So you’re using Baxter for your dirty work now?”
He laughed, a sound that made me go all warm and gooey inside. “Is it that obvious?” he asked. “I do miss him, you know. We could take him for walks together, maybe even go on picnics…”
Baxter’s tail was now thumping in agreement. He knew exactly what the word walk meant.
“I also have two tickets to the Opera tonight, if you’re free.”
This was the first time I’d seen Baxter’s tail wag all week. I hesitated, my resolve weakening.
Xander bent down to pick the little dog up, closing in for the kill. “Please Mom?” he said in a high pitched voice, holding the dog before his face. “Say yes, for me?” Baxter’s tongue lolled out, his bow tie crooked.
I burst out laughing. “Fine. Whatever, we can be friends. But only for the dog, okay? There will be absolutely, positively, no firetrucking.”
Xander leapt in the air with a shout, causing Baxter to wiggle from his arms. The dog began running circles around us both, yapping.
“Yes! Whatever you say. They’re your rules.” Then he grinned. “Come here. Give me a cuddle—as a friend, of course.” He wrapped his arms around me. I could feel his warmth. “I’ve been so miserable Kate. So miserable, thinking of you.”
I just stood there, enjoying his closeness. I’d been miserable too.
CHAPTER THREE
Richards dropped off a selection of Dior dresses that afternoon—it seemed my size was now on file at the store. I held up a particularly beautiful red evening gown. “What, are you his personal shopping assistant now too?”
“Ma’am, if it means he starts seeing you again, I’d even work for his mother! He’s been right cranky since you were gone.”
“Oh really, has he?”
The butler nodded. “Thank you for agreeing to this—on behalf of the entire staff.”
Baxter sniffed Richard’s leg and then sat expectantly beside the trunk of the limousine. “Sorry, no giant bone this time little Sir,” Richards said to the dog. “I’m afraid you’ll just have to put up with me, instead.”
He turned. “If it’s okay with you, when I pick you up for the Opera, Sire has asked me to look after the little one. We’ll take him with you in the car, and then when you leave I have a pooch pampering service booked. We’ll get him a manicure, then a haircut and a belly rub.”
“You hear that Baxter? We’re both being treated tonight!”
Baxter looked up at me, ears pricked, and wagged his tail.
* * *
It took me hours to get ready, but Xander’s wide eyes when I opened the door made it all worthwhile. “I know this is just as friends,” he said, drawing a deep breath, “but I have to say—you look ravishing.”
I gave a swirl in the doorway, secretly delighted. I’d dug up a pearl necklace to wear with the red Dior dress, and a pair of red heels as well. “This little thing? Just something I put together.”
He shook his head as we walked down the driveway, Baxter racing ahead to greet Richards once again. “I knew this was going to be hard, but…” his shoulders squared. “I’m just glad we chose a public place.”
I gave his arm a squeeze. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” I hesitated. “And thank for this morning, too. I can be stubborn sometimes—I appreciate your perseverance.”
We sat with Baxter between us in the car, our puppy chaperone, and fell quickly into familiar banter. I was only now beginning to realize how miserable I’d actually been this last week.
Baxter wanted to come with us when we left. It took putting him in the front seat next to Richards to get him to stay. His nose was pressed up against the window as they pulled out, and we waved goodbye like idiots until the car turned the corner.
“If only the opera allowed dogs,” Xander mused.
“You really do worry about him, don’t you?”
“Of course—he’s my little buddy. I want him to be happy.”
I laughed. “I’ll let you in on a little secret then. Baxter’s motivated by food, and I left a zip lock bag of dog treats with Richards. He’ll be fine.”
We walked inside the Palace Theatre, location of our not-quite-date for the evening; all huge marble columns and plush red carpets. “I guess this is what your home is like, right?” I asked. Then I grabbed his hand in excitement “Wait. Do you live in a castle?”
He laughed, drawing my hand to his lips and kissing it. “You’re radiant when you get excited.” He thought for a moment. “There are a few similarities. The throne room has almost as many columns, and twice as much red carpet.”
I pulled my hand from his with reluctance as an usher greeted us, showing us to the door of our private box. It was on the second level, just to the left of stage, luxuriously appointed in rich velvet brocade.
“Oh my goodness!” I said, walking inside then turning back to Xander. “Can you believe this?”
Sound echoed up from the seats of the vast auditorium below. There must be a thousand people below us! And above… my neck craned… the most beautiful fresco I had ever seen adorned the roof.
A private box! I felt like the queen in one of those British charity galas I sometimes saw—secluded from the masses in our own little viewing chamber, with deep seats and miniature binoculars on the ledges before us. Gold leaf angels fronted the walls to either side, as if protecting our privacy.
I turned to Xander suspiciously. “What did you do to get these tickets? They’re the best seats in the house!”
“Of course. It’s the royal box. It’s reserved for dignitaries and visiting heads of state.”
I shook my head. I was still having a difficult time thinking of Xander as a prince. It shouldn’t be hard, I knew. He was fabulously wealthy and looked so comfortable in a tuxedo I’d swear he was born with it. He’d just been talking abo
ut a throne room in a castle! But princes didn’t bend down to get their $2000 loafers dirty playing with a puppy. And princes certainly didn’t take me to the Opera.
I walked over to plant a kiss firmly on his cheek. “You are one hell of a guy, you know that?”
His hands moved to my waist, lips dipping to nuzzle my neck before he realized what he was doing. He stepped back, a wild look in his eyes. “I’m trying so hard to be good for you, Kate. But then you go and kiss me.”
“It was only on the cheek!”
He bit his lip with a smile. “I know. That’s the problem.”
The orchestra began to warm up. We took our seats. I allowed myself a guilty smile as the lights dimmed—I knew it was my idea to ‘just be friends’, but the thought of what I could still do to him sent tingles down my spine.
* * *
I’d thought opera was always rotund women with horns and braided hair singing high pitched songs in a foreign language. What Xander introduced me to was nothing like that at all. It was in another language, yes, but captions on a screen above the stage translated what was happening.
I was seeing the opera in a whole new light, and that light was contemporary, and glamorous, and sexy. Half-naked bodies writhed as the most beautiful music flowed over us. A woman sung about her lost lover. And then, to a dramatic clash of symbols, the lover reappeared. He ripped off his shirt, and the two embraced.
My hand went to Xander’s thigh before I realized what I’d done. His hand rested briefly on top, giving it a squeeze. It felt right for my hand to be there, so I let it stay. What harm was a hand on his thigh anyway?
His hand went to my thigh. It felt right for his hand to be there too. No harm in that either, right?
My hand slipped a little higher—an accident, I was almost sure. Just me leaning closer to the stage. We both kept staring at the opera.
