Sydney nodded painfully. The memories were still fresh and Christian’s lies were still hurtful- even though they had been overshadowed by everything else.
“Sydney, he lied. I never told him anything like that. You can ask my parents, if you don’t believe me. They were there during my interview with him. I told him the truth- that you and I had been dating for months and that I loved you, but I just wasn’t ready to be a dad.”
He stared pensively out the window.
“Do you think you can ever forgive me for that, Syd? For not wanting to be a dad?”
Sydney’s heart throbbed. At one time, she had wanted to strangle him for leaving her to face everything alone. But she could see now that he was still the same Christian- the one that she had fallen in love with. Loveable, playful Christian. And of course he hadn’t been ready to have a child. With his personality, he probably wouldn’t be ready until he was 40. She leaned over and squeezed his hand.
“Chris, I meant what I told you at the time. I didn’t hold it against you then and I still don’t. That was your decision and you had every right to make it. But I am very happy to hear that the detective was lying. It broke my heart at the time.”
He leaned over to hug her.
“Sydney, I haven’t been able to forget something you said once. You said that every girl remembers her first and that you wanted me to remember you, even though you weren’t mine.”
She nodded. She remembered that conversation clearly.
“I’ll always remember you. Everything about you—the way you twirl your hair when you are relaxed, the way you laugh when you are nervous, the way you drive much too fast… we’ve known each other a long time. And a piece of me will always love you. I’m really, really sorry about everything that happened. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
He leaned over and hugged her tightly again and she let him, closing her eyes at the familiarity of his scent. He had worn Hugo since they were in junior high. And it suited him.
“Christian, you’re a really good person. I’m glad I was with you and I wish you nothing but the best.” She kissed his cheek and sat back in her chair, studying him curiously.
“So, tell me. Who’s the new chick? Because I know you have one.”
He laughed as he allowed himself to be led into a lighter conversation.
“Well, obviously she isn’t you, but she’s still pretty great.”
And for the next fifteen minutes or so, he shared details of his life with Sydney and she listened with friendly interest.
“So, let me get this straight. You forgot to pick her up at a restaurant and she didn’t even get mad? You’d better keep her.” Sydney swirled her water around in the bottom of the bottle while she laughed.
Christian laughed too and glanced at his watch.
“Okay. As much as I hate to, I should probably get going. I’m supposed to have dinner with my parents.” He grimaced as he stood up.
“Well, by all means, give them my love.” Sydney smiled as she allowed Christian to pull her to her feet.
He wrinkled his brow. “I’m sorry about that, too, Syd. You know, about the way my mom treated you. She… has a temper sometimes.”
“Don’t worry about it.” And Sydney meant it. Christian’s mom had been worried about her son’s future. It was a natural reaction and she wasn’t going to hold it against her.
“Don’t be a stranger, Syd.” Christian leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Call me anytime and come up to a Princeton football game sometime. I could use a familiar face from home in the crowd.”
“Maybe I’ll do that. Good-bye, Christian. Drive safely.”
He looked back one time and then strode confidently down the hallway. Sydney watched his retreating back with a reminiscent smile. She had been speaking the truth. She was glad that they had been together. She had learned so much.
Digging through the couch cushions, she found the television remote and clicked the TV on. The local news channel was running yet another follow-up story on the whole Ross family scandal. It seemed that she would never be able to escape it.
The reporter dressed in a dark mauve suit matter-of-factly discussed the fall-out from the scandal.
“Yes, Maureen… today, Illinois Senator Randall Ross returned to Washington after a several month hiatus. He has been in seclusion in his Highland Park mansion for months after his wife conspired with an Illinois policeman to murder her own family.
“Luckily for Senator Ross and their daughter, Sydney, their devious plan wasn’t carried out, although several others lost their lives in the brutal attack, including Ohio senator Paul Hayes. Senator Ross returned from his hiatus only this week and says that he is feeling much better and is looking forward to once again serving his constituents.”
Sydney stared at the smiling picture of her father and sighed. She loved her father and was so happy that their relationship had taken on a healthy, new life. She was also thankful that Jillian and Harrison’s lies never saw the light of day.
But none of that changed the fact that she was probably never going to enjoy the political lifestyle. She hated living in a fishbowl. Even here, in the smallish town of South Bend, she was recognized where she went. The only place she had any privacy was in her apartment. It was her very own fortress of solitude.
She grabbed Stephen’s book and headed for the bathroom, intent on taking a hot bubble bath. She ran the water and tied her hair up before stepping into the bubbles. The apartment sized bath-tub certainly wasn’t her sunken marble tub back home, but it would work.
She didn’t even realize that she had fallen asleep until Stephen’s voice woke her up.
“So, do you come here often, beautiful?”
She opened her eyes to find Stephen bending down next to the bathtub, lifting the book off of her chest. It was a wonder that she hadn’t dropped it into the water.
“You know, I know that author. I could probably get him to autograph it for you. He’ll be so happy to know that you’re reading it for the millionth time.”
His warm, chocolate eyes were crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her. She leaned up to kiss him on his warm lips and wrapped her arms around his neck, enjoying the jolt of electricity that she received every single time their lips met. She was pretty sure that she would never tire of it.
A devious thought entered her mind and quickly before he could anticipate it, she pulled him down hard until he landed in the mountain of bubbles on top of her. Water sloshed out of the tub onto the floor, but she didn’t even notice. She was too busy laughing in self-satisfaction.
“Now was that really necessary?” Stephen laughed as he gazed directly into her eyes, wearing his love for her like a badge.
“I think it was. I’ve missed you. I never, ever want you to leave me again.”
“That’s something you don’t need to worry about, Syd. If I ever do have to leave you, it will always be brief. And I’ll always come right back.”
Pushing the bubbles out of his way, he pulled her to him and kissed her until she believed it. She finally broke away so that she could breathe and sighed contentedly. Money couldn’t buy happiness, but she had managed to find it anyway. She closed her eyes and smiled.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, I would like to thank my family for putting up with me. Trust me, it’s a full-time job. Thank you for being my biggest fans.
I also want to thank my friend and partner in crime, Wren Emerson. Thank you for all of the authorly advice. And all of the efforts to convert me into a Plotter. Thank you for the ranting sessions. And hand-holding. And for talking me down from 5 million ledges. And for making me laugh when I might cry otherwise.
Same goes to Michelle Leighton. Thank you for all the late night texting. And SOS emails . And brainstorming. And girl talk. And for Bo. Trust me, If I ever move closer to you, we’re going to get regular pedicures together. And Starbucks. And Girl’s Night out once a month.
Craig Ellis, thank you. You saw this ma
nuscript when it was just an unpolished piece of coal. You told me it was a diamond and you’ve been helping me polish it ever since. Thank you.
And a gigantic thank you to Tammy Luke, my goddess of a cover artist. Thank you for saving me from multiple panic attacks. Your work is awesome and speaks for itself.
If you enjoyed Princess, you might also enjoy The Bloodstone Saga by Courtney Cole
Except from Every Last Kiss (Book One of The Bloodstone Saga)
Prologue
Alexandria, Egypt
The Mausoleum of Queen Cleopatra and Marc Antony
30 BC
“Charmian! Is there any sign of her?”
I hurriedly rushed back from the outer room of the mausoleum, looking nervously over my shoulder as my bare feet padded lightly on the cool stone floor.
“No, my queen. Only the guards.”
Queen Cleopatra nodded solemnly, her golden armbands glistening in the lamplight. She rose from her perch on a jeweled chaise lounge and gazed sadly at the golden sarcophagus that glittered mutely in front of her. Ornate and beautiful, it held the remains of her husband. Lovingly, she slid her hands along the golden shell that would protect him for eternity.
From the open windows of the outer chambers, the tangy sea breeze blew softly into the inner rooms and I found myself wishing that it could carry me away, somewhere far from here. I fingered the birthmark on my wrist. It was not throbbing, not even an ache, and I knew that I would not be leaving this crypt.
A sudden, soft knock on the doors echoed in the quiet room, causing both of us to whip around. Tension immediately formed in my neck. This was it. It had to be. Cleopatra squared her shoulders, then bent to brush a soft kiss on the golden mask covering Marc Antony’s face.
“Forgive me, my love,” she murmured.
There was another low knock and I felt my shoulders ripple with the stress that they carried as Cleopatra reached out to grasp my hand.
“Iras, love… could you answer that?” Cleopatra whispered. She squeezed my hand tightly, but I barely noticed.
Cleopatra’s other handmaiden nodded obediently and slipped silently from the room to answer the door. She returned a scant moment later with a tiny shriveled woman who looked not a day younger than 200 years old. The glinting eyes that stared from under her brown hood were ageless, full of wisdom and I felt my heart begin to race. It was time. There was no doubt.
Cleopatra squared her shoulders, her face a perfect regal mask as she walked purposely toward the old woman.
“Do you have it?”
“Yes, your highness,” the old woman rasped throatily.
She held out a woven reed basket. I wouldn’t have thought it was big enough to conceal anything and apparently the Roman guards hadn’t either. Nowadays, they checked everything that came in for the queen.
I rushed to Cleopatra’s side and we peered into the interior of the basket together. It was full of plump figs and I inhaled their sweet, heavy scent. My eyes raised questioningly to the old healer.
She nodded at my unspoken question. “It is hidden under the figs.”
“How long will it take?” Cleopatra whispered, her voice not reflecting even a bit of the fear that raced through my veins.
“Only a few moments. No longer.” The healer’s faded eyes searched Cleopatra’s bright ones. “You must be certain, your highness. Once the poison enters your body, there can be no turning back.”
Cleopatra nodded. “No, there is no turning back, old woman.”
The healer nodded gravely and held out the basket as if it were an offering. Cleopatra took it and sank back into her chaise lounge, staring absently at the opulence surrounding her as she reached into the basket, withdrawing a fig. Slipping it into her mouth, she chewed it delicately, then smiled.
“Delicious,” she announced, swallowing calmly.
She eyed the basket again pensively. I sucked in my breath. It was time. I felt it coming, the air crackled with it. Death was an unseen presence in the room, waiting for our last breaths.
Reaching into the basket once again, Cleopatra withdrew a long, thin black snake. It draped itself along her arm and she stared into its black slitted eyes.
“You will take me to the afterlife,” she instructed it firmly. “And do it quickly.”
Leaning back into the silk cushions, she shook the snake lightly. It hissed, its large mouth yawning open ominously, revealing glistening fangs. As it stared at her, one drop of deadly venom dripped from its mouth. Nothing more. Impatient, Cleopatra shook it again. It struck her so quickly that I barely had time to register the movement before I heard her gasp.
“It is done then,” she murmured, dropping the snake once again into the basket. I flew to her side, my arms around her slender shoulders. Two drops of blood dripped from her breast.
“Cleopatra…” My voice broke as pain flooded through me.
“Charmian, do not fear. We have done what we must. All is well.”
Her obsidian eyes met mine and I saw peace in them. My breath caught in my throat just as she drew her last. Her lips quivered and then she was still, her dark eyes staring sightlessly at me. My heart shattered silently.
“All is well,” I whispered as I reached out and gently closed her eyes. “Is it? Is it well where you are now, my queen?”
Her face was peaceful and even in death, she was beautiful. I swallowed hard as I looked up at Iras. She was shaking her head in grief as she rocked back on her heels. The old woman watched me silently, waiting to see what I would do, waiting to see if I would follow our queen.
Shakily, I picked up the basket and reached inside. The snake’s body was surprisingly dry, not scaly in the slightest. It writhed beneath my hand, agitated already. My fingers closed around it determinedly, pulling it back out into the light.
Staring into its flat black eyes, I implored it softly.
“Please be quick.”
And it was.
Chapter One
Pasadena, California
Present Day
The country music singer’s spunky voice ripped through the silence in my room as she began singing loudly from my nightstand, causing my phone to vibrate against the espresso colored wood. I smiled. The lyrics about demolishing a cheating ex-boyfriend’s car with a baseball bat was tempting. Too tempting. I answered my phone before I got any more ideas.
“Stop obsessing.”
Jessa’s voice was authoritative and bossy. And so on the money that it was ridiculous, not that she needed to know that. Even as she spoke, my eyes were glued to my computer screen, where Derek’s face grinned at me. His perfectly mussed blonde hair draped just-so over his green eyes, and I shuddered. Cheater.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I sniffed, trying my best to sound both innocent and offended at the same time.
I could practically hear my best friend roll her eyes through the phone.
“Macy.” One word, perfectly conveyed disbelief. I sighed.
“Okay, fine. There might be a small amount of obsessive behavior going on. How did you know?”
“Because I’ve known you since kindergarten, that’s how. Mace, seriously. Anyone who would do what he did isn’t worth the time that it takes to obsess over him. Instead of wasting your time going over every detail, and yes, I know that’s what you are doing, you should be plotting your revenge. And I mean, in a big way.”
Apparently, she hadn’t heard my new ringtone. I was way ahead of her on that one.
“Yeah…I should totally get on that.” I tried to sound innocent again.
“Have you showered yet?”
I looked down at my unwashed body clad in old sweats and nodded.
“Yep. Why?”
Loud sigh, long pause.
“Macy, jump in the shower. I’ll be over in two.”
And she was gone. And since she only lived two streets over, I knew that I literally only had two minutes to shower before she arrived and saw for herself that I had lied. I dropped the phon
e and ran for the bathroom.
2.5 minutes later, I was still rinsing the conditioning balm out of my hair when her smug voice drifted through the steam.
“So, how’s that shower coming along?”
Did I mention that my BFF is a total snot?
“Does the word ‘annoying’ mean anything to you?” I shot over the shower wall.
“Yeah, um, I would think that after taking a pumice stone to yourself last night, that that hot water probably feels pretty annoying, doesn’t it?”
She was right again. Yesterday, after someone had ‘mistakenly’ texted me a video of my boyfriend Derek doing the nasty with Tara Wilson at Haley Beckman’s party last weekend, I had felt the urgent need to vigorously (and I mean vigorously!) wash every place that Derek had ever touched me.
It had taken a while.
I had stayed in the shower with my loofah, scrubbing myself until the water turned cold and my skin was bright pink, until I was certain that I had scrubbed away any memory of his touch. And Jess was right. My skin was a little sensitive (and still pink) today. The hot water was annoying right now, to say the least.
I turned it off and took the thick blue towel that Jess handed to me.
Toweling off, I stepped into a clean bra and undies and pivoted on the stone tile to face my friend. She tucked her light brown bob behind her ear as she watched me contemplatively with her lips pursed.
“Why are you here, anyway? I was perfectly happy obsessing alone. And don’t roll your eyes. They’re going to get stuck one of these days.” I tossed my wet towel in her face as I walked back into my room to get dressed.
“I came to plot revenge. I already told you that,” she reminded me as I dug through my drawers for a pair of jeans and my favorite comfy tee- the light purple one that said MAN EATER across the boobs. It was perfect for my mood.
Princess (The American Princess Series) Page 18
