Spring Romance: NINE Happily Ever Afters

by Tessa Bailey

  “It sounds like you picked this date special for me. What if someone else had won you?”

  “Then I would’ve had a candlelit dinner in the royal dining room and invited everyone—my brothers, sister, and the other guests—up here for a party. Very little alone time.”

  She gives me a small pleased smile and sips her wine.

  I sip mine too. I don’t mind that I’ve shown my hand, and she knows I’m into her. I want her to know. I want to treat her special. “So after that, we could go dancing at a club, or we could come back here and relax on the rooftop garden. Or walk on the beach. Really up to you. I want you to experience everything you’re interested in here as a newcomer.”

  She smiles. “That’s a nice way to say I’m a tourist. I’d like dinner, dancing, and then back here to the rooftop garden.” She looks off in the distance and sighs. “You’re not like the guys I usually meet.”

  “I suppose I’m your first royal.”

  She laughs. “Yes, but I mean, you just seem more direct, more expressive than most guys.”

  I look off in the distance before confiding, “I wasn’t always the playboy prince. I did commit once. It ended in a very public breakup. So maybe I was happy with my scandalous reputation. My ex could see I was doing just fine without her.” I turn to her. “Lately, though, I’m really starting to hate it. I wanted my charitable work to help clean up my image for the sake of my family, but now I want to change it just as much for me.”

  She gives me a sympathetic look. “I heard about Lana.”

  I take a swallow of wine to ease the tightness in my throat. “Yes, well, everyone did.”

  My breakup with Lana was extremely public, covered by all the gossip rags, all over the internet, so I’m sure Ruby knows the basics. Lana and I were the golden couple for five years and then she dumped me by text for a Greek billionaire, whom she said she loved. They were plastered all over the gossip rags too. Now, a little over a year later, I hear she’s single and I get a sick satisfaction out of knowing that. I hope he dumped her as callously as she dumped me. I guess I haven’t completely gotten over it if I’m still bitter. I’m not that evolved.

  We’re quiet for a few minutes, but it’s not awkward. Lana fades from my mind as I find peace again, sitting next to Ruby, cozy and warm, gazing at the sea.

  “I feel like a different person sitting up here on this peaceful island,” she says, breaking the silence. “Like I’m not just buffeted by forces beyond my control. Like I’m in control. Maybe it’s because I’ve been working on my first big solo project here. I like working for myself.”

  “You’re great at your job.”

  “Thanks. Anna did me a huge favor calling me for it. Plus she bragged about me to all her friends when she gave them the tour. They all want me to do projects for them when I get back to Tampa. It’ll really get my business off the ground.”

  “That’s fantastic!”

  “It is. Things are finally looking up.”

  I look over at her and she turns, our gazes locking for a charged moment.

  She looks away and takes a big swallow of wine. “What was it like growing up here?”

  I take a sip of wine and then set it down. No one wants to hear a prince complain about duty, obligation, and public scrutiny. I was born into wealth and never wanted for anything. “It was great. I know I’m blessed.”

  She leans in. “That sounds like a canned answer for the press. Tell me what it was really like.”

  “I appreciate everything I have. My brothers and I had fun running around the island, exploring the dunes and caves, swimming and surfing in the waves.”

  “Don’t forget cruising around on the yacht.”

  I grin. “That was more of a launching pad to dive into the sea. Of course, we took out the jet skis too.”

  “Of course!”

  “See, it sounds like luxury. It was. Like I said—”

  “I know, I know, you appreciate what you have. What’s it like to have no privacy? To have your every move documented and commented on?”

  “I learned to embrace it. I’m a people person and, while it’s intrusive at times, for the most part I don’t mind.”

  “Even with your ex?”

  “I loved being part of the golden couple. It seemed everyone loved us together as much as I did. I thought we’d marry, and then we didn’t.” My voice chokes. “I seem to pick beautiful, vain, shallow women. Maybe so I won’t be tempted to commit.” I pause, surprising myself with the insight. I never proposed to Lana, and I set up everything for maximum sabotage with other women for more than a year now. I press my lips together before admitting the truth. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for commitment.”

  She gives my hand a squeeze. “Anyone would take a breather from commitment after her. I know she dumped you for a really old guy, so guess what? You’re better off. She sounds like a gold digger, and maybe she knew your kingdom wasn’t doing so well economically.”

  “She did know that. And I’m glad they broke up.”

  “Ha-ha. Sweet revenge. I wish bad things for my ex too, even though I feel guilty because he’s about to be a father to triplets with his wife.”

  I straighten. “His wife?”

  “Yup. I was the other woman, though I didn’t know it. We lived together for a year. A whole year, Phillip, where I was stupidly, ignorantly happy.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too.” She sits up and says fiercely, “When he told me he was leaving me because his wife was expecting triplets, he wanted me to be happy for him! I’m just standing there, stunned, and then he says, ‘By the way, you have to move out. This is my parents’ vacation condo and they’re coming for a visit because of the triplets. We’re all so excited!’” She downs her wine in one long swallow. “Well, I was not excited. I was devastated.”

  My heart aches for her. I feel her pain. I know that kind of pain. “Shit. That sounds awful.”

  She sighs and relaxes into her chair again. “Yeah, it was. I lost my job because I just couldn’t function. I moved back in with my parents, trying to get a freelance career going—mostly recovering—and now here I am two months later in a completely different headspace. At last, the cloud has lifted. I have a real chance at a cool career on my terms. I’ll be able to get my own place, and they’ll have my room for the baby. Everything is working out just as I hoped.”

  I take a deep breath. “It seems we met at the wrong time.”

  She studies me for a long moment, and I get a bad feeling that she’s about to stomp on my heart. “I really like you.”

  “I like you too.”

  “But I think you had the right idea before. Neither of us is up for more devastation. We’re still recovering. At least I am. And I know I said let’s go for it for a one-week happy memory, but that was lust talking.” Her gaze searches mine. “We can be smarter than that. I mean, you’re still recovering from Lana, right?”

  “Yes.” I must be if I’m so spitefully glad Lana was dumped.

  “And we’re going our separate ways soon.”

  I exhale sharply. Why couldn’t I have met Ruby a year ago? Except I’m just kidding myself. I couldn’t have committed a year ago any more than I could now. I’d sabotage it in some way and end up hurting her. Maybe I’m only drawn to her because I know we have no future.

  Silence falls. We both gaze out at the sea. There’s nothing more to be said. There is no us and there never will be.

  I turn to her. “Tell me what it was like growing up in Tampa.”

  She smiles and takes my hand, clasping it warmly on top of the blanket as she tells me of her orange trees, the warm waters of the Gulf, and her visits to the happiest place on earth, which inspired her love of interior design.

  We end up talking all night, sitting side by side in the moonlight, holding hands.

  We watch the sunrise together, and it’s the best night of my life.

  She stands and stretches as the sun finishes its rise in the
sky. “I can’t believe we talked until sunrise! You should’ve told me to shut up.”

  I stand and fold the blankets. “Never. I loved hearing all your stories.”

  “Thank you. I loved hearing yours too. And now I need sleep.”

  I walk her to the door, holding it open for her, and then walk her to her room. She stops just outside her door and tips her face up, smiling at me. “Thanks for a wonderful night.”

  I can barely breathe, so enthralled with her. “Thank you.” I lean down to kiss her cheek, and she shifts, her lips meeting mine in a soft kiss.

  I pull back in surprise. We agreed to be just friends.

  She grabs my head and kisses me again. The blood rushes through my veins. I pin her against the door in a flash, the building tension finally having an outlet. Her lips are soft, her taste like wine and sex; it’s a potent combination. She’s gripping my hair, her nails digging into my shoulder, her tongue tangling with mine.

  “Walk of shame, huh?” a feminine voice calls in a teasing voice.

  I break the kiss and glare at one of Anna’s friends in a jacket, yoga leggings, and sneakers, probably going out for an early run.

  “I wish,” Ruby says with a laugh.

  My heart thunders in my chest, adrenaline pumping, all of me ready to move forward with this. Forget what we said before. I want her now.

  The woman laughs and continues on her way.

  Ruby holds up a palm to me, holding me off. “Good night and good morning.” She slips inside and shuts the door behind her.

  I consider following her in. I don’t think she’d resist if I kissed her again. It would naturally lead to her bed. And then what? We screw our brains out for one week, getting in deeper and deeper, and then cut each other loose?

  I turn away, heading to my suite. Neither of us is up for the devastation. She was right about that. I rub my aching chest. Maybe it’s already too late. My body is denied, but my heart is out there, still with Ruby.

  Chapter Nine

  Ruby

  Phillip has been a dream. After our all-night rooftop talk, we spent the rest of the week together, exploring the island and talking, talking, talking. It wasn’t exactly private. He has two guards with him whenever he goes out, on the king’s orders, not because he wants them. He swears the islanders would never hurt him. I got used to his guards, Henry and Rafe, once Phillip assured me they would never repeat anything they heard us say unless our lives were in danger. After a while, I forgot they were there and spoke freely. Being with Phillip is almost like hanging with a close friend, except for the sexual tension. It’s always there, a subtle current running between us.

  Now we’re on the jet on the way to Paris for the date I won in the bachelor auction. Phillip is chatting with the flight attendant, asking after her family. I look out the window at the island fading in the distance. It’s beautiful, a jewel of purple heather meadows, dunes, grassy slopes, and rugged cliffs in a sapphire sea setting. Amalie Palace looks enchanting—sandstone with copper roofs, multiple towers, and spires—perched on a hill in the center of the island. Cute cottages dot the long winding palace road. Soon this will all be like something I dreamed. I leave in two days. Phillip leaves the day after.

  He turns to me, his blue-green eyes warm on mine. “It’s a short flight. Just under an hour. There’s a driver waiting for us. We’ll do dinner and dancing and then head back. Does that all sound good?”

  I search his features, hardly believing how familiar he feels to me after just two weeks. His thick dark brown hair with a natural wave to it, his sharp cheekbones and jawline, straight nose, his sensual full lower lip. God, he’s a good kisser. We haven’t kissed since our all-night talk and I miss it terribly. I tried and he gently explained I’m too tempting to open that door again. I don’t care what anyone says, he is not some jerk manwhore only looking out for number one. Not with me. His rep is more a consequence of his bad breakup than who he really is. He even said he was starting to hate that rep. Deep down, he’s a romantic at heart. Just look at how he planned this date around what I would like. He’s so warm and attentive with me. That can’t possibly be an act put on for seduction. He hasn’t pushed for anything physical. In fact, just the opposite. And I know our lives are heading in different directions, but I simply can’t deny myself any longer.

  He leans close. “What’s wrong?”

  I worry my lower lip. “What if we skipped the dancing?”

  “Oh. Okay. I’ll have to call the club. I booked a private area for us.” He pulls out his phone. “Is there something else you want to do?”

  I nod.

  He punches a few buttons on his phone. “What?”

  “You.”

  His head jerks up. “You want to do…” Understanding dawns. He smirks and then shakes his head. “Ruby, I thought we—”

  “I don’t care,” I whisper. “I’m leaving in two days. I can’t leave never knowing what it’s like to be with you.”

  He gives me a cocky smile. “It’s fantastic.”

  I laugh. “I don’t doubt that for a moment.”

  He gazes into my eyes. “Be sure. I don’t want you to have regrets.”

  “No regrets. Paris is our little bubble. We can do whatever we want there, and when we leave, it’s only with good memories.”

  “We’ll always have Paris.”

  “Extra points for the Casablanca reference.”

  He smooths a lock of hair behind my ear. “If I knew we were going to have a Paris bubble, I would’ve brought you here days ago instead of playing tour guide on Villroy.”

  “One night. That’s what makes it a bubble. A onetime thing.”

  “One night, not one time.” He holds me by the chin and kisses me gently and then nips my lower lip. “Done.” Then he gets on the phone, punches a few buttons, and speaks in rapid French, arranging what is no doubt going to be a primo hotel. All I care about is finally letting go with him. No more holding back.

  * * *

  The restaurant is everything Phillip described from the moment I step through the arcade at Place des Voges to entering the restaurant with its elegant decor. It’s like I stepped back in time to mingle in the parlor with high society. I’m so glad I brought my little black dress. This place is high class. No detail is overlooked, and I try to take it all in without gawking—gold-framed silk tapestries, gilded mirrors, crystal drop chandeliers, marble flooring with artfully placed Persian rugs. Each table is set elegantly with a white tablecloth, crystal wineglasses, china dishes, an abundance of silverware, and a small crystal vase of fresh flowers. I take Phillip’s lead for what silverware goes with which dish. He was born to this; I’m just along for the ride.

  What Phillip left out of his restaurant description is that the food is a frigging work of art! I didn’t know food could look so stylish. It’s almost too gorgeous to eat! My appetizer is scallops arranged in a circle in a spring pea soup with some fresh herbs and a purple flower in the center. I take a picture of it before I ruin the arrangement, which makes Phillip laugh.

  I love absolutely everything, and Phillip is kind enough to share samples of his dishes. He ordered rack of lamb and I ordered the sole. And how cute is this? My potato pancake had little baby asparagus heads popping out of it! My absolute favorite is dessert. Mine looks like a cream puff cut in half, but in the center is a two-layer chocolate cake with a thick layer of sweet mango cream. Phillip’s dark chocolate tart is also to die for. I probably could’ve finished off both desserts myself because, while the dishes were the highest quality, they were not big portions. This is food to savor.

  The chef, a man in his seventies, even came out of the kitchen to see how we were enjoying our dinner. He and Phillip chatted for a bit in French. I wish I knew something to say beyond bonjour and merci beaucoup.

  After dinner, we take a walk through the city with his guards. I’ve never been here before, and it’s a lot to take in, but my mind keeps skipping ahead to later—the hotel, the bed, a naked Philli
p. I’m not nervous like I normally would be going to bed with a guy for the first time. I just feel excited. We’ve gotten to know each other well over the last two weeks. He’s a good man and my gut says to trust him.

  He’s playing tour guide now, and I try to remember to say “cool” and “oh, really” at regular intervals.

  He stops suddenly and turns me toward him, his hands gripping my upper arms. “Ruby, where are you? Am I boring you with the tour?”

  I glance at his guards standing behind him. They discreetly look away.

  I go on tiptoe and whisper, “I keep thinking about the hotel. Will Henry and Rafe be joining us there?”

  He grins. “Yes, but they’ll be posted outside the room, near the access points.”

  I keep my voice low. “Will they be able to hear us?”

  His eyes dance with amusement. “Depends on how noisy you are.”

  “Me? What about you?”

  “They’re used to me.”

  I park a hand on my hip. “So this is like a regular thing for you?”

  He cocks his head. “Now see, this is a trick question. If I say yes, you’ll be pissed. If I say no, I’m lying to you. I don’t want to lie to you, Ruby.”

  I press my lips together, irritated, but then a laugh escapes. “I know your rep.”

  He tips my chin up and kisses the end of my nose. “And you know I want to tone it down.”

  “Okay. Just take me to the hotel.”

  He turns to the guards. Henry nods once. “The car is already on its way.”

  I shake my head at Henry and Rafe. “How much you must know. You’re very good at being discreet.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Henry says, still stone-faced.

  “It’s our job, ma’am,” Rafe says flatly.

  “Okay, then.” I turn to Phillip and whisper, “If I get loud, feel free to do one of these.” I put my hand over my mouth.

  He laughs and scoops me up in a hug, lifting me right off the ground. “It’s our bubble, Ruby, do whatever you want.”

  A short while later, we arrive at the Ritz. Naturally. See, this Paris bubble will be a snap. It already feels like I’m moving through a dream. So different from my life back home I can’t even wrap my brain around it.