“I think King Jozef made a power play, complete with careful staging, to stake his – and Bariavak’s claim — to you. And he did a damned good job of it.
“Not only the set-up, which spoke volumes. But also that speech. He intimated he appreciated they’d been willing to come to Bariavak when that seemed the only way to get you to come. But now you were here, where you belong. So they weren’t really necessary, which meant he’s not beholden to them, and yet he was gracious enough to welcome them anyway. As long as they didn’t interfere.”
“He didn’t—”
“Nope. Never said it directly. But everybody knew that’s what he was saying. If it hadn’t been for C.J. Draper invading no-man’s-land, that’s how it would have stayed, too.”
“So sending you along with me was a fall-back position for him when I refused to stay for dinner?”
“Guess so.” He grinned. “He has no idea my momma’s side of the family tree’s chock full of rebels.”
****
“One minute,” Katie said to the driver who held the car door for her. Karl was opening his own door on the far side of the vehicle and tossing in the abused sash and tie.
She started toward where Ashton’s players were loading onto a bus to take them to this evening’s game.
Brad had already boarded. There was surely cause and effect in action here, but she had no interest in unraveling whether he’d boarded because he’d seen her or whether she felt comfortable enough to approach the group because he’d already boarded.
“His Majesty would not like—”
Without turning, she raised her hand and the driver fell silent.
“C.J.,” Katie called to him.
He passed through players, managers, interns, and others lining up for the bus, one arm curved around Carolyn to buffer.
“There’s something I should tell you,” she said when they were close enough not to be overheard. “The facilities here are not going to be what you’re used to.”
“Figured that. No worries.”
“You might not say that when you see the castle gym you’ll be using for the youth clinics. They’ve cleaned, but it’s small and old and with all this rock …”
Prince Karl came up behind her. “If you can imagine where the Count of Monte Cristo would’ve played hoops in prison, you’ll start to get the idea.”
C.J. grinned. “It sounds a lot like the Ashton gym when I started coaching there. Can’t hurt to make us all appreciate what we have at home. Say, Katie, would you mind taking Carolyn with you in that Princess-mobile? She wants to talk to you. Privately.”
“Mr. Subtle,” Carolyn murmured.
“That’ll work great,” Karl said immediately, “because I was hoping to go on the team bus.”
“You’re a good man, Prince,” C.J. said, clapping him on the back as a means of steering him toward the bus. “A glutton for punishment, but a good man.”
Chuckling, Carolyn took Katie’s arm and they walked toward the car and the anxious driver. “Do you mind?” she asked.
“Of course not. In fact, I want you to know, that reception was not—”
“Oh, we know. Don’t worry.”
Once they were settled in the car, with the privacy barrier raised, Carolyn picked up. “But I do hope grabbing you this way didn’t intrude on time you wanted to spend with Prince Karl.”
“No. Not at all. I mean, he’s nice. Very nice. But—”
“And attractive.”
“Yes, attractive but—”
“And a prince.”
“A prince of pretence, according to him,” she said with a smile.
Carolyn added mildly, “And your grandfather’s choice.”
Katie did her best to sound as calm as her friend. “King Jozef knows Karl and I have just met.”
“Does King Jozef also know about you and Brad?”
“There’s nothing to—”
“Of course. That scene just now was a meeting between a couple of pals.”
“There was no scene. We didn’t say a word to each other.”
“Precisely.” Carolyn looked almost smug.
“It was a surprise. A shock. You told me Brad wasn’t coming.”
“He wasn’t. Not until the last minute.”
“You could have told me—”
“We weren’t sure we’d get him on the plane – or off it once it landed in Bariavak. So you can say you were surprised, but he knew he’d be seeing you today. And yet …” Carolyn gave her a searching look. “But what I actually meant when I asked if King Jozef knows about you and Brad was, uh, what the two of you did before we all met for that lovely dinner in Angelo’s back room with Frank and Thomas and Ellis.”
Katie stared. “You know—?”
Carolyn nodded. “Suspected initially. Then had it confirmed – oh, not by any of your co-conspirators. But some things are public record, you know.”
Of course. How on earth had neither she nor Brad thought of— “C.J. knows?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Anybody else?”
She didn’t answer directly. “Did you know Hunter’s partner came through Ashton the day after you left for Washington?”
“Why would —?” The passport. She’d been relieved Hunter delivered it unopened, but he might not have needed to open it to know of her new last name. “Do you think anyone else knows?”“Hunter made background checks before we were all cleared to come. He’s very thorough. After he’d been to see her I had a call from Andy.”
“Andy?” That would be as bad as King Jozef knowing. “Oh, no. She’ll hate me.”
“Why on earth would she hate you?”
“For the same reasons you should hate me. For taking advantage of Brad. For getting him to – when he didn’t… He’s never – I knew that. But we were friends and now – he wouldn’t even look at me. And I’m—” She swallowed hard. “—pitiful.”“You are not pitiful,” Carolyn said with absolute conviction. “You have never been pitiful when you had every right to be and you certainly aren’t now.”
“What could be more pitiful than pining after a man who wasn’t interested in you – pining for years? There’s no point in pretending otherwise to you now, Carolyn. Years.”
“I know. But, Katie—”
“You know? Oh, God, of course you know. Everybody probably knows.”
“So what if they do. Now, let me get my question in: Have you ever wondered why Brad hasn’t left Ashton?”
“What?” She felt like she had whiplash from the abrupt turn in the conversation. “You mean why he hasn’t gone after a head coaching job?”
“No, I mean he hasn’t taken a head coaching job. He’s had offers. He’s turned them down. Because of you.”
“Me? No way on earth. Have you heard what I said? Pining. Unrequited—”
“I’d wondered. Then the way he reacted when Hunter showed up, I was sure. Oh, I’m not saying he was jealous, exactly.”
“Of course he wasn’t jealous,” she said with scorn. “Me. Unrequited pining for him, remember? Pitiful. Dreaming with no hope of ever having it come true.”
“He wasn’t jealous because Hunter was so clearly not interested in you—”
Katie snorted.
“—or any other woman except April. As for dreaming with no hope of ever having it come true … you are married.”
“Gallantry. Pity. Genor—”
“Has it been consummated?”
“—osity. And that’s even more pitiful than all the rest –” A corner of her mind recognized a kind of cleansing in saying this out loud. “—taking advantage of his generosity and kindness and pity – yes, pity – to lure him into marriage. And then—”
“Lure? From what I heard it was Brad—”
“—binding him to it, because he’s an honorable man, by throwing myself at him in his hotel room.”
“Oh?”
Carolyn’s syllable stopped Katie. Because it was all wrong.
It should have
held censure, disappointment, dread because Carolyn and C.J. loved Brad.
Instead, it was bright, interested, even … delighted?
“It was despicable,” Katie said firmly.
“That good, huh?” Carolyn said with a chuckle. “So it was consummated.”
Katie felt heat surge up her throat. Oh, yes. That good and better.
“Looks like we’re here,” Carolyn said cheerfully. But then she turned to Katie, taking both her hands in hers. “Listen to me, Katie. You and Brad have to talk – really talk. And since you left him – especially the way you left him and when – you must be the one to go to him.”
The driver opened the door.
Carolyn said in a low, urgent voice, “Go see him, talk to him.”
****
According to the schedule, the clinic the next morning should have been over.
From her years working in the basketball office, Katie thought she had timed it perfectly so Brad – always last out of the gym and therefore the last one showered and dressed – would be about to leave. And he’d be alone.
Instead, as she edged into the gym so she could see around the bleachers without being seen, she realized he was still teaching a group of kids about middle school age.
A young man she’d noticed at last night’s game dogged Brad, calling out translations of whatever he said like a distorted echo.
T-shirts clung to their chests from exertion. Only Brad’s chest looked nothing like the kids’.
Her breath came faster. She wasn’t sure if it was from watching him so utterly focused on these kids or … from just watching him.
The kids formed two lines at half-court, about ten feet apart. Brad bounce-passed to the closer player. That player dribbled twice then passed to the first player in the other line, who’d also advanced. Player 2 dribbled twice and passed back. They continued that way to the basket, where Player 1 threw up what might have been meant as a layup.
Brad clapped. “That’s the way to do it. Good, good.” He bounce-passed a new ball to the next player and the scenario repeated, including the miss at the end. Again earning Brad’s praise.
The third pair was trouble. Katie saw that from their body language even before the first one received the ball. He dribbled four times instead of two and it took Brad’s “Pass it! Pass it!” to get him to give up the ball. Player 2 began dribbling toward the basket. At the third dribble, as Brad called “Pass it!”, Player 1 dove toward Player 2. Player 2 hugged the ball to his chest and raced toward the basket. Player 1 chased. But Player 2 was too fast.
Apparently he was also deaf, because he paid no heed to Brad’s shouts, to the translator, or to the whistle Brad blew with determination.Player 2 pulled up and shot. As the ball slid into the basket, Player 1 tackled him and other players swarmed around chattering loudly. Player 2 popped up, chanting something gloatingly. It had to be the Bariavakian version of “Nyah, nyah, nyah, nah-nyah-nyah.”
Brad was going to have to shout to be heard over them.
Instead, he stood still and silent.
A few of the kids looked at him. Then more. The noise level lowered, until the only sound was Player 2 chanting.
Player 1 snapped something, which had the tenor of “Shut up.”
One of the other players picked up the loose ball and handed it to Brad, who acknowledged the delivery with a small nod. Every player now focused on him.
Holding the basketball, he crouched down before the two players, with the others fanned out behind them. She couldn’t hear what he said and didn’t understand the few words she picked up from the translator. But she could see the tender way he turned the basketball in his hands.
She remembered him cooking. Thinking about those hands being so skilled with a basketball, in a kitchen.
Now she could think only of his hands on her. And their skills there.
Stop.
Stop remembering.
Stop feeling.
“Princess Josephine-Augusta.”
One voice – the translator, she thought – said her name, then a murmur picked it up.
She’d been so intent on watching Brad that she’d strayed from the shadow of the bleachers, and she’d been spotted.
Kids turned, gaping, then rushed over to her, “Princezha Katrina! Princezha Katrina!”
They hopped and bobbed, waving their arms, calling out things she couldn’t understand. She tried to shake hands as fast as they came at her. Left, right, whatever she could reach. The translator hurried up, “So happy. Great pleasure. Most wonderful.” She didn’t know if he was translating or they were his words.
With his reluctance so clear to her, Brad came last.
“I apologize for interrupting,” she said to him.
“Princesses don’t have to apologize.” He seemed to regret the harshness and added more easily, “You seem to be the hit of the session.”
“But you were doing so well with them—”
“We’re way over time. Okay, that’s enough. Pick up all the balls,” he ordered, and the kids appeared to understand the tone without needing translation. “Then hit the showers.”
The translator fumbled a few words, then barked one she thought meant wash.
Over the kids’ heads, Brad’s eyes met hers for an instant. Almost he smiled.
Almost.
The kids and translator loped toward the exit, still calling out. She waved after them.
Then it was only her and Brad and the echo of the young voices.
“I have to supervise these rug rats.” He jerked his head in the direction they’d gone. “See you later—”
“I’ll wait.”
“Is that an order?”
“It’s a… I’ll wait here.”
He glanced toward her, not making eye contact. “Suit yourself.” Then he jogged after the youngsters.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The practiced phrases fled her mind when he strode toward her in khakis and a white shirt.
He still wasn’t looking at her.
If he couldn’t even look at her… Oh, God, Carolyn was wrong. Completely and totally wrong …
Into a silence that had gone on too long he said gruffly, “You’re the one who called this meeting.”
“Don’t you think we should talk?”
He shrugged. The kids had missed a basketball. He stretched a leg and caught it with his toe, drawing it close.
“Don’t you want to talk?”
“What about?”
“About …” She swiped her upturned hand in the air between them.
“You left.” For a fragment of a second she thought he was going to add the word me. How different those words would have felt with that addition. “To find your future. What would I have to say?”
“I didn’t leave…” She stopped. Of course she’d left. She’d meant leaving hadn’t been her goal. Not entirely. “You gave me so much. You were so generous, so willing to protect me. You were right, I needed to find out… To get to know…” She hated she was stumbling through this. “To find out what my life would be like here.”
“Yeah, I gave you so much,” he said dryly. “Married in a courthouse. Reception at Angelo’s. What every girl dreams about.”
“That’s what … that’s what was bothering you at April and Hunter’s wedding?”
“Wasn’t it bothering you?”
“No.”
“The hell it wasn’t. The fancy wedding dress. The flowers and music. The reception with all your friends and family.”
“I don’t have – I didn’t have family. And you said you liked my dress.”
“I do like it. But women don’t want their wedding dress to be one they can wear again two weeks later. God, no wonder you’re nuts for all this fancy stuff.” He looked her over without the survey ever reaching her face. “Looks like your life here suits you fine.”
She was starting to get irked. “If you think I’ve changed beyond—”
“Not changed. Realized.�
��
“—clothes and— Realized what?”
“Who you are. Who you really are.”
“The DNA result doesn’t change—”
“It’s not DNA. It’s you. Not who the people who raised you tried to make you think you were. It’s not only about being a princess, either. It started before that. You realizing.” He was stumbling too. Was that good? Or bad? “Walt and Heath.”
“What?”
“That’s when I first saw it. With Walt and Heath. You realizing. You starting not to hide anymore. It wasn’t like their attention was water for a dying plant or anything. More like your handling the attention started bringing you to life. Sort of blooming.” His mouth twisted. “Fancy for a basketball jock, huh? You never looked like that when I flirted with you.”
“You?” She was stunned. “You never flirted with me. Ever. You—”
Now he looked at her. Glared at her. “The hell I didn’t.”
“—were always my friend.”
“The hell I was. Well, I was, I guess. But I didn’t want to be. But you were a kid. And—”
“I was not a kid. What I was—”
“—I’d’ve deserved to be horsewhipped if I’d gone after you.”
“—was ordinary. Completely, thoroughly ordinary. Not like the women you dated at all.”
“Dated? Dated? I’ve practically been a monk, working so hard to keep my hands off you.”
“Oh, yeah, wracked with lust for wanting me and—”
“Damn, I almost forgot.”
He grasped her hand. For a crazy instant she thought he was going to pull her to him …
She felt the silk against her palm before her eyes caught up.
“I got this out of your attic. Thought you should have it. Maybe give it to your grandfather.”
“Brad.”
He scooped up the basketball. “It’s good we had this talk. Wrapped things up. Finished things. Of course there’ll be legal stuff. Send a lawyer or a diplomat or something and I’ll sign whatever needs signing. But what’s important is now we both know. Now we can both move on. Forget …”
He pivoted, and in one motion slammed the ball against the floor in the direction of the carrier, the sound of the impact echoing from the stone walls.
The Surprise Princess Page 23
