by Erika Kelly
Chapter Twelve
In full princess regalia—her beaded evening gown and royal jewels—Rosalina panned the audience at the Jubilee. She hadn’t looked at her notes once. She didn’t need to.
“If it weren’t for the summers I spent apprenticing in my family’s business, I would never have uncovered my passion for chemistry and perfuming. And, so, I would like to change the world for the children of St. Christophe in the same way. The Villeneuve Apprenticeship Program will be open to all secondary school students and will enable them to choose from a comprehensive list of jobs in all fields, from agriculture to government to the arts, so that each student can experience a job before committing to careers and university majors.”
Encouraged by the enthusiastic response, she continued. “In addition to the list of participating companies, the students will be able to submit wish lists of the specific types of careers they’re interested in, and we’ll approach the appropriate businesses to encourage their participation in our program.”
Applause broke out, and when it didn’t subside, she realized she’d said enough. “Thank you. Thank you so much. More details to come soon.” With a dignified nod, she turned to step away from the podium and bumped into Marcel, who grasped her wrist and linked her arm through his. Together, they walked off the stage.
The moment she stepped onto the ballroom floor, the press swarmed her. Ignoring their microphones and trying not to squint from the blinding lights of their cameras, Rosalina said, “We’ll hold a press conference later. Tonight, it’s the Jubilee. Let’s celebrate.”
“Marcel.” One of the reporters lunged forward. “What’s the timeframe? When will this apprenticeship begin?”
“Our program will be up and running by next summer.”
Our? She shouldn’t care that he was taking the credit. This appearance is about the vote, nothing more.
“What about the students who can’t afford to participate?” another one asked him. “Children from farm families work during the summer. Isn’t your program skewed toward wealthy people like yourselves? Isn’t a summer internship a luxury?”
“We’re going to provide—” Rosalina began, but Marcel touched her hand to silence her.
Rage sparked, coloring her vision the same shade her cheeks must have been. It took everything she had not to shove him aside.
“We appreciate your concerns,” Marcel said. “And to that point, the royal family will not only provide a stipend for the participants, but we’ll offer scholarships, as well. We want this opportunity to be available to every student in the country.”
Who the hell did he think he was speaking on behalf of the royal family? Shaking with the effort to keep her emotions in check, she said, “Participants will also have the option to choose part-time work, in case they have to—”
A reporter shoved a microphone in her face. “Princess, who made your gown?”
She looked the woman square in the eye and didn’t miss a beat. “Work in their family’s businesses. To a teenager, a job is nothing more than an idea. The program will give them a glimpse into the actual work, so they can determine if it’s right for them. It will also provide references and potential job leads—”
“Princess, have you and Marcel set a wedding date?”
“We have—” Marcel began.
This time, she was the one to reach for his wrist. She gave it a hard squeeze. Don’t you dare.
“We’ll hold a press conference soon,” Rosalina said. “And answer all your questions then. Tonight, we’re celebrating the six-hundred-year history of our country. Let’s all raise a glass of champagne together.”
With a hand at the small of her back, Marcel tried to move her deeper into the ballroom, but she jerked away from him.
“Rosalina.” His voice held warning.
Yes, she knew the attention was on her. And the whole point was to present the image of a happy couple. For God’s sake, I’m doing the best I can. But it was her sister’s look of alarm from a few feet away that told her she wasn’t doing a convincing job. Get me out of here, she mouthed. Immediately, Genevieve, with her unusual gown and pink-streaked hair, handed her champagne glass to her date and pushed her way through the crowd.
“Please excuse me,” her sister said. “Mama would like to speak with us.”
Clutching her hand, her sister led her out the ballroom doors, where they bumped into their parents.
“Well done, Rosalina,” her father said.
“That was a lovely speech.” Her mother’s eyes narrowed on her, obviously picking up on her agitation. She abruptly turned, forcing the three of them to follow her into the parlor. She nodded to Genevieve to close the door. “You’ve got the devil in your eyes, Rosalina. You must get yourself under control.”
“And this is why she’s in Calamity this summer,” Genevieve said. “Instead of pretending to be happily engaged to that asshole.”
Her mother cut her a glance, but Genevieve didn’t back down.
Exasperated, Rosalina said, “They addressed all their questions to Marcel, as though he’s leading this project. As if the program were his idea. And do you know what they asked me? Who designed my dress.”
Her father reached out and cupped the back of her head. “That’s the way of things—not just in St. Christophe, but in the world, and you know that. Now, listen to me, in my role as Head of State, I am bombarded every day by absurd issues and affronts that make me want to go running, screaming into the dead of night. But, as a leader, I don’t have the time nor the energy to waste on petty issues. I must stay focused on the good work we’re doing.”
“We can stomach being mannequins in designer gowns, because we know the important work we’re doing behind the scenes,” her mother said. “And the times are changing. You will have more of a voice than I’ve had. You’ll just have to find a way to gently assert it. Give it some time, darling.”
“What’s important,” Genevieve said. “Is that you’ve got a winning idea, and you’re going to help so many teenagers find their path in life.”
“What’s most important,” her father said. “Is that you’ve reminded the voters about the compassion and decency of the royal house. Once the monarchy is secure, then we will take on each issue, one at a time. Of course, you’ll soon learn, change moves at a glacial pace in politics.”
Nothing they said calmed her. She felt restless, agitated. And it didn’t make sense, because none of what she’d experienced tonight was new. “You’re right. I’ll learn to handle it better.” But it actually did make sense. Because, in her very short time in Calamity, she’d changed. Her dutiful way of life no longer seemed acceptable. “For now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to my room to freshen up.”
“Of course, darling.” Her mother bussed her cheek.
“You want me to come with you?” her sister asked.
“No, thank you. I won’t be long.” She tried to smile, but all she wanted was to get out of this room. Constrained by the sheath of silk around her legs, she made her way along the hallway, but it felt like a pack of dogs chased her. Almost panicked, the hairs at the back of her neck stood on end, and she wanted to break into a run.
I am bombarded by ridiculous issues and affronts that make me want to go running, screaming into the dead of night.
Ha. Right there with you, Dad. She didn’t know where she wanted to go, only that she needed to get out of the castle. She needed to breathe. As soon as she reached the kitchen, she kicked off her heels and padded toward the back door.
Once outside, the cool grass tickled the soles of her feet, and she filled her lungs with clean, fragrant mountain air. Pulling her phone out of her clutch, she knew there was only one person she wanted to talk to.
He answered on the third ring. “Princess? Everything all right?”
In the background, she heard laughter and conversation. “I called at a bad time. We can talk later.”
“Hang on. Don’t go anywhere.” He must’ve pulled the
phone away from his mouth, because his shouted, “Give me five,” sounded muffled. “Okay, talk to me. How’s it going? You give your speech at the gala?”
“I did. What am I interrupting?”
“I’m helping out at the training center. What’s going on?”
Glancing around, she realized she couldn’t speak out in the open like this, so she headed for her lab. In her tight gown, she had to, basically, do a squat in order to pull the key from under a potted lemon tree. She let herself in, her whole body giving a sigh of relief at the familiar scents of Nocturne, shea butter, and chemicals. “I gave my speech, and I think they like my idea.”
“That’s good. Then, why do you sound like you want to put in a mouth guard and go a couple rounds in the cage?”
She smiled. “Because, instead of asking me questions about the program, they wanted to know which designer made my dress.”
“And which one is it?”
“Shut up.” She laughed, and he might as well have peeled three layers of winter clothing off her for all the relief he gave just by being himself. “My idiot ex answered the hard questions, and I got, Have you set a date for the wedding?”
“I’m not hearing anything new. What’s got your panties in a twist, exactly?”
“It makes me sick that I have no agency here. I mean, some of those reporters are women. Can you imagine how they’d react if I interrupted their questions to ask what color lipstick they wore?” She tipped her head back, taking in the glittering array of stars through her skylight. “But you’re right. It’s nothing new. It’s just the way it is here.”
“It’s the way it is a lot of places, but that doesn’t stop women from kicking ass.”
Pretty much what her parents had said. “I’m overreacting. I know that.”
“I didn’t say you’re overreacting. There’s no right or wrong way to react. It’s a shit situation. I guess you just have to sort out what’s important. Did you accomplish what you set out to do?”
“Yes. I did.”
“Then maybe that’ll take the sting out of the douchenozzle taking credit for your idea.”
“It’s not just that. I started to answer a question, and Marcel put his hand on me in front of everyone to shut me up.”
“You keep your sights on the day after the vote, when you kick him to the curb. From that moment on, it’ll be all about your philanthropy. Never about him again.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” She perched on the edge of her stool. “I want to come back. To Calamity.” To you.
“Your room’s waiting.”
Do you miss me as much as I miss you?
Do you have a hard time falling asleep, because every time you close your eyes you remember that kiss in the dressing room?
Because I do.
“Hurry back, Princess.”
“Where are you off to so early?” Rosalina called from the kitchen.
Damn. He’d hoped to sneak off before she woke up. “Got some things to do.” Because, as much as he hadn’t liked living here without her, having her back felt dangerous.
Brodie set his gear by the front door.
As soon as she’d come home yesterday afternoon, she’d gotten to work. When he’d heard her whispering calculations in the kitchen, he’d itched to trot in there, see what she was working on. Later, before dinner, he’d heard her in the shower, and he imagined the water hitting her naked body.
They’d both agreed not to act on this attraction, but how the hell was he supposed to do that when she was sleeping right down the hall, and he knew what she looked like with her hair spread all over her pillow?
What she sounded like when she kissed him?
The way it felt when she ground against his cock?
Well, he couldn’t avoid her. Heading into the kitchen, he smelled the coffee. She must’ve been up a while. “You still on St. Christophe time?”
“I don’t sleep much.” The pale green of her pajama shorts and top matched her sea glass eyes. Cupping a mug with both hands, she leaned against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle.
He’d gotten a handful of her tits, cupped her ass, but he’d yet to skim his hands over the curve of her calf, the back of her knee, and the soft skin on the inside of her thigh.
And he wanted that more than just about anything.
“It’s when I close my eyes at night that the gears start cranking.” Behind her, she had different colored petals in plastic bags. She set down her mug and picked one up, started kneading it. “If I add the ceramides…if I use less shea butter…and then I’m just dying to get up and try out the adjustments.”
He grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator. “And what had you up this morning?”
“While I’m waiting for my supplies, I thought I’d play around with another project.”
“Something that requires you to abuse those pretty petals?”
Her smile and the mischief in her eyes were exactly what he’d wanted to avoid this morning. He’d even considered moving in with one of his brothers, just to escape the temptation.
“Bruising them releases the scent.”
Except that’s exactly what I want. Her temptation. It surprised the hell out of him, but he liked how she got him so worked up he couldn’t think. It was bizarre, this need to be around her all the time. Made no sense.
She’s just a woman. Yeah, she’s pretty. She smells nice. She’s smart and interesting.
But she’s just a woman.
As he twisted off the cap, an uncomfortable thought stirred in his mind. His brothers thought he didn’t follow through. Callie had called him a dumbass for thinking he wasn’t dating Vanessa.
Even Rosalina, who barely knew him, thought he might be putting off Vanessa because he wouldn’t commit. Didn’t want his expectations dashed.
So, then, was Rosie a distraction? A way for him to not go too deep with the woman he’d already started a relationship with?
Vanessa’s pretty, smart. She lived here, and she was just as focused on work as he was. She didn’t need flowers and romantic shit. And yet here he was getting all worked up over a woman he couldn’t have, instead of seeing if what he and Vanessa had could develop into something more.
I don’t even want a relationship, so why am I thinking about this crap?
He tipped the bottle and drank. “What’s the project?”
“You mentioned using other indigenous plants to add products for our store, so I took a long hike this morning and explored a bit of your property.” She gestured to the baggies. “Found some really interesting flowers.” She caught sight of his gear. “You’re snowboarding today?”
“I’m going up in the heli to scout a new house location. But, also, my brothers and I were talking about ideas for Owl Hoot, and we came up with a pretty obvious one.”
“And what’s that?”
“A triathlon.”
“Sponsored by world-class athletes? Oh, that’s brilliant. You’ve got the terrain, and if you make the pot big enough, you’ll be successful right from the start.”
“Sounds like you know your stuff.”
“Philanthropy is a big part of my life, so I’ve spent a lot of time organizing events.” She grinned. “I think it’s cute that you’re going up for business, but you just happened to bring along a snowboard. Like, just in case there’s a slope that needs your attention.”
“Might as well get in a ride.”
“You’re going alone?”
He’d wanted to make sure he was gone the whole damn day. “It was a spur of the moment idea, so I haven’t really asked anybody.”
“Would you like some company?”
It took him a minute to figure out she meant her. And then…ah, hell. He was trying to keep his distance, but he knew she wanted some experiences. “You’re welcome to come for a ride on the helicopter. After he drops me off, he can just take you back with him.”
Damn, the woman couldn’t hide a single emotion. Her disappoint
ment was clear.
“Okay, sure.” She set the bag down. “I’ll change my clothes.” As she started out of the kitchen, she said, “Is it safe, though, for you to freeride alone?”
“What’re you asking, princess?” He’d planned on dropping in on the glacier, but he supposed he could choose an easier slope. “You want to board with me?”
“I’d love to, but I obviously don’t have any of my gear here.”
“Let me make some calls. Between Callie, Delilah, and Knox, I’m sure we can find some things in your size.”
Who was he kidding? It wasn’t about giving her experiences. It was about spending time with her.
Because he was a sucker for this woman.
He should’ve given her the window seat, that way she wouldn’t be leaning across him. Between his jeans and long sleeve T-shirt, he might not be able to feel all that silky hair on his skin, but he could smell her shampoo.
She pressed against his arm, but not like a woman trying to get a man’s attention. Like a scientist taking in all the geologic and topographic features. Her nearness gave him a strange feeling, kind of like how he felt at the entry ramp, right before approaching the rails on the halfpipe. And it was really starting to piss him off that he couldn’t get a hold of himself around this woman.
She pointed. “What’re those?”
“Antelope.”
“They’re so graceful.” She gazed up at him, probably hoping to share her delight, but all he felt was supremely uncomfortable, because the promise in her green eyes made him want to get naked with her.
Not cool. Since the whole point of the trip was to scout a new building site, he forced himself to look out the window. It was just that, every time he focused on the terrain, his mind wandered to her mouth. Those lush, pink lips that had kissed him like…like he was the one she’d been waiting for. Like, now that she’d finally found him, she had to make up for a lifetime of missed kisses.
That’s it right there. He sat up a little straighter. When he hooked up with a woman, it might be good, might be fun, but it wasn’t anything special.
