by Romy Sommer
world sees, this is what real princesses talk about - practical things like hair washing and lacquer?”
Anna laughs. “Yup, nothing is ever as glamorous as it seems. Now what about you?”
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“What about me?” I ask, immediately self-conscious. “I’m wearing flowers in my hair. No
tiara necessary.”
“But you’ll need earrings and a necklace,” she points out.
I’m so dumbstruck, that the other two ladies continue without me. Phoenix describes my
bridesmaid dress, and they pick out a pair of sapphire chandelier earrings for me to wear with my bridesmaid dress, and a delicate emerald necklace for the banquet.
“I can’t!” I whisper, but they ignore me.
The head of security takes meticulous notes of which items we’ll be wearing with each
outfit throughout the festivities. It’s his job to ensure the jewels are brought to our rooms in time for each event, and that they’re safely locked away again afterwards. I’m still shell-shocked when we finally leave the vault, and Anna hands Phoenix the ancient looking key. “It’s yours now,” she says simply.
#
The cathedral is closed to the general public until after the wedding, but the place is a hive of activity. TV people swarm all over, laying cables and rigging cameras and microphones. Church staff polish the candle sconces, and specialist window cleaners are up on scaffolding cleaning the stained glass windows. Security officers guard all the entrances, searching everyone who enters and exits.
Phoenix and I walk the long length of the uneven, flag-stoned nave, both wearing the same
shoes we’ll wear for the wedding in a couple of days. Up front, Max and Adam wait for us. Max
smiles at his bride as if no one else in the world exists, but it’s Adam I’m watching. A small smile curves his mouth as his gaze meets mine, and he no longer seems to have that bored air he usually wears.
The archbishop runs us through the ceremony, and when it’s all over we return to the palace
for afternoon tea.
“Where’s Adam?” I ask, when I notice he hasn’t joined us in the drawing room.
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“His uncle and aunt have arrived for the wedding. They’re staying at one of the hotels in
town, and Adam has gone to see them,” Rik answers.
An anxious knot tightens in my stomach. Has he made a decision yet whether to accept his
uncle’s offer? Could he be announcing his decision right now? Though I have no right to feel this way, I’m hurt he hasn’t told me any of this. Just friends, remember? Yet somehow I thought we’d become very good friends. The kind of friends who tell each other things.
He doesn’t join us for dinner either. Since tomorrow is the civil wedding, everyone heads to
bed early. I’m just stepping out of the shower ready to get into my pyjamas, when there’s a knock on the door.
“I have the chocolates ready, but you better not have cold feet,” I say as I swing open the
door. But it isn’t Phoenix come for a late night chocolate-binge. It’s Adam, dressed in a navy three piece suit and looking breathtakingly debonair.
“I’m not sure why I’d be getting cold feet, but I won’t say no to chocolate.”
“I was expecting someone else,” I stammer.
One dark eyebrow arches. “You were expecting someone else in your room at this hour,
dressed like that?”
He waves a hand at the towel which is the only thing covering my assets.
“Phoenix, but that doesn’t matter. Please get inside, before anyone sees you here.”
He grins and steps into the room. I quickly shut the door, but now I realize I’m practically
naked, and standing less than a few feet away from Adam. He seems to be thinking the same thing.
His eyes kindle.
So maybe he is still interested?
My heart hammers loud enough inside my chest I’m sure it’s audible.
“Give me a moment.” I rush to collect my pyjamas, and dash into the bathroom to change.
Plain grey sweatpants and a thin camisole top. Why didn’t I think to grab something sexier?
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My hair is still steamed-up from the shower, and untameable. Since I can’t hide in here all
night while I straighten it, I’ll simply have to leave it as it is. I brush my teeth, add a dash of lip gloss, and return to the main room.
Adam is seated on the sofa, flicking through the new novel I picked up in the library earlier, this time an Alisha Rai romance with a semi-naked man on the cover. I would blush, but Anna
recommended the book, and if it’s good enough for an Archduchess I’m not going to be
embarrassed to admit I’m enjoying it. Adam sets the book down when I draw close, and his eyes
darken. God, I wish he didn’t want to be just friends.
What are the chances that ‘friends with benefits’ could be an option?
“I had dinner with my uncle this evening,” he says, patting the sofa beside him. I fetch the
box of chocolates I had ready in case Phoenix showed up, before I sit on the sofa, carefully keeping distance between us.
“How did it go?”
“He suggested I visit Erdély before making a decision.”
I nod. “That’s sensible.”
“So I’m going to leave the day after the wedding to spend a few days there.”
My heart catches in my throat. The day after the wedding. That’s two days away. Just two
more sleeps before he leaves and I most likely never see him again. I don’t trust myself to speak, so I nod again.
Since I now need chocolate a great deal more than Phoenix will, I rip open the packaging
and open the box, offering Adam one before I blindly help myself.
The sweet-bitter taste of dark chocolate and strawberry liqueur hits my tongue. After the
wedding, I have just one more week here in Westerwald before I’m due to fly back to Nevada.
Phoenix and Max planned to take me to the castle in Waldburg which I’ve heard so much about. I was looking forward to seeing it, but without Adam there, it suddenly feels very unappealing. I
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can’t even imagine being here in Westerwald without Adam down the corridor, or holding my hand (metaphorically) through every event.
“Another?” I ask, offering up the chocolate box.
He takes one. I take two; hazelnut praline and something darker-flavoured, coffee perhaps. I
couldn’t be bothered to read the box.
He holds my gaze until my breath squeezes tight in my chest. I memorize every line of his
face, the slight crinkles that are developing at the corners of his eyes, the tiny gray flecks at his temples, the five o’clock shadow on his strong chin. His lips, full and tempting.
He leans forward, twining his fingers into my hair. “I like your hair like this, free and
unconstrained.”
I wrinkle my nose. “It’s a pain in the ass.”
He grins. “Just like you then.”
I can handle the flippant, easy banter. But his fingers are still in my hair. He tucks the
strands back behind my ears, his fingers brushing my cheek, and my eyes drift closed. This, I can’t handle. Why did he have to touch me?
Because now my body is coursing with the electricity of his touch. I know chemistry can’t
be trusted, but it’s impossible to ignore. I want him even more now than I did that first night in the library, before I knew who he was. I want him more than when I was drunk on cocktails.
And he’s leaving in two days.
“I should leave you to sleep.” His voice is a low hum, and I open my eyes. “I just wanted to
tell you that I’ll be leaving soon.”
He rises from the sofa and heads to the door, leaving me still seated, clutching the box of
chocolates.
“Sweet dreams,” he says from the door. Then he lets himself out.
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I switch out all the lights and climb into the enormous bed. Alone, still clutching the
chocolates. All I can hear is Elena’s voice, ‘he won’t stick around until morning’. I can’t even get him to stick around for the night.
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Chapter Nineteen
Adam
“This tie feels like a bloody noose.” Max runs his fingers inside his collar, as if to loosen the tie.
“Feeling nervous?”
“No, I just hate wearing ties.”
He is nervous, though. “Trust me, she won’t back out now,” I reassure him. Our
conversation is hushed, as the wood-panelled city hall chamber is rapidly filling with guests. Since this is only the civil wedding service, there’s no music, no pageantry, no bouquets or fancy floral arrangements, and no important dignitaries, just family. Admittedly, on Max’s side that family includes two heads of state and a good many titles. I’m probably one of the lowest ranking people in the room.
Max fidgets with his collar again. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m trapping her in
this life. It’s not the one I originally promised her.”
What the hell does that mean? I thought he met her in Waldburg when she was backpacking
around Europe. He was already Archduke by then, so what other life could he have offered her?
But Khara told me she was there when they met, so that must have been in…
I don’t have time to follow that line of thought through to its conclusion, as the guests are
rising, and everyone turns to face the door where the bride has just appeared. Phoenix is wearing a
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sleeveless, cream-coloured dress that looks more Marilyn Monroe than the dress of an Archduchess, but she’s easily one of the most beautiful brides I’ve ever seen. Probably because of the radiant glow on her face. Max finally stops fidgeting, mesmerised as his bride walks towards him. I glance at him, and he has honest-to-god tears in his eyes as he looks at her. My gaze slides past Phoenix, and my own chest squeezes tight.
I’d say that Khara cleans up well, except that she has always looked beautiful. That first
morning we met in the breakfast room, when she was dressed in ripped jeans and with her hair
loose, she was just as striking as she is now.
But something has changed. Maybe it’s because I know her better now. God, I wish I didn’t.
It would be so much easier to take her to bed if I didn’t know her. If I didn’t know that sleeping with her and walking away was only going to prove to her what dicks men like me are.
Just two more nights. I need to get through just two more nights without giving in to
temptation. How hard can that be?
Her hair is pulled back in a sophisticated French twist, and her dress is pink with grey
flowers, soft and floaty, the skirt ending just above the knee. My gaze trails down her bare legs then slowly moves back up to her face as she sits in the empty chair beside me. She’s glaring at me.
I’m relieved to see that flash of fire in her eyes. For a moment I’d wondered if this stylish, self-possessed woman was the same outspoken, wild waitress I’ve been fantasising about every
night.
“Focus!” she mouths, and with a rueful grin I turn my attention to the mayor of Neustadt who
is already greeting the assembled guests.
Max and Phoenix are seated at the table before the mayor. The ceremony is simple: bride
and groom affirm under oath who they are and that neither is married to anyone else. They
exchange vows and rings, Max moving her engagement ring from her left hand to her right in the Germanic custom, and Phoenix sliding onto his right hand a simple, engraved titanium band. Then it’s time to sign the register. Max and Phoenix sign first, then the mayor and her deputy, and finally
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Khara and I as witnesses. When Khara bends over the documents to sign, she glances up at the
bridal pair with a cheeky grin, and Max winks at her, as if they share a secret.
The guests precede us out the chamber, to wait below the city hall steps. Further back,
there’s a security cordon beyond which a horde of photographers and flag-waving well-wishers
have gathered. As we reach the main entrance, and the noise of the crowd hits us, Khara flinches. I take her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.
As we step out into the sunlight, I reluctantly let go. We take our places on either side of the entrance, and then Max and Phoenix step through. In a break from tradition, the guests throw
handfuls of eco-friendly bird seed instead of confetti, the cameras flash, the cheers rise to fever pitch, and the bridal couple smile and wave. Then there’s the anticipated kiss for the cameras, which is pretty tame by Max and Phoenix’s usual standards.
When they’re done, Max and Phoenix move towards the crowd to meet their fans, but before
they do, Max catches Khara’s hand and pulls her close. “Thanks for the dress,” he says, so low I’m only just able to catch the words. I raise an eyebrow in enquiry, but Khara merely shakes her head and smiles.
The cars are already waiting to take us back to the palace, a Rolls Royce Phantom for the
bride and groom, prosaic minibuses for the rest of us. I find myself squashed into the back seat of a bus with Khara on one side and a British Duke on the other. Up front, Teresa is sitting in Christian’s lap to make space for other passengers.
“Our lives are not always as glamorous as they seem,” I whisper to Khara, and she chuckles,
though she tries hard not to.
The drive is far too short for my liking. I rather enjoy having Khara’s thigh and arm pressed
up against mine. I itch to do something about it, the way I would have done a few short weeks ago, but I behave, even though it causes me actual physical pain.
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We pose for the official photographer on the grand staircase of the palace, first the bridal
party, then the family, then all forty plus invited guests. When we’re done, I look around for Khara, but she has disappeared. I frown.
I know we’re not joined at the hip or anything, but she usually wouldn’t leave without at
least acknowledging me.
After the photographs, we make our way onto the terrace for drinks. Late afternoon sunlight
angles down across the flower beds, and the scent of lavender and roses perfumes the air. The
guests mill around the garden, sipping champagne and being beautiful.
I catch a glimpse of Khara across the garden, talking to Teresa and Christian, and start to
make my way towards them, but I’m waylaid by Rik. “Not planning to leave the party early again?”
he teases. “Or are you still scouting for a likely candidate to leave with?”
“Neither. Haven’t you heard? I’m a reformed man these days.” I look again for Khara, but
she seems to have moved away.
He looks at me askance. “Is that code for ‘I’ve already slept with every available woman at
this party’, or does it mean you’re seriously considering your uncle’s offer?”
“I know for a fact I haven’t slept with every available woman at this party, and yes, I’m considering it.”
Rik grins. “Good for you. You’ll make a much better ruler than Mátyás, and for that matter,
a much better ruler than Nick.” He frowns. “Am I allowed to say that about the dead?”
I shrug. “Why not? Far worse has been said about him. I gather h
is death is something of a
relief in Erdély. His gambling habit was becoming very hard to keep under wraps. Do you know he was barred from two Vegas casinos last year? And in one of the seedier dives in the city, he started a bar brawl. It wasn’t pretty.”
“And I’ll bet you were there to bail him out.” Rik’s expression is serious now. “You’ve
always been a really good friend.”
Not always.
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“Where’s your wife?” I ask, which isn’t really a change of subject.
“Upstairs having a nap before dinner. I offered to stay with her, but she says I’m a
distraction.” Rik chuckles. He’s hardly the same man I remember from our uni days. He used to
take himself so seriously, but these days he’s more likely to be the one joining me in the grotto to drink illicitly.
And thinking of the grotto…I turn to search the garden again. Since there’s no sign of a pink
dress with grey flowers, I give up looking. “Let’s get a drink and get this party started.”
From the terrace, we move inside to the yellow drawing room for yet more drinks. It’s still
light outside, and all the tall sash windows are open, which is a relief as the room is getting very crowded and stuffy. More guests have arrived, mostly palace staff and representatives from some of the charities the royal family supports, who’ve been invited to join the evening banquet.
Phoenix and Max are at the entrance to the drawing room, greeting the new arrivals. I grab
two bottles of water from the temporary bar set up at one end of the room, and head over to them.
“You’re a lifesaver,” Phoenix says, popping open the bottle I hand to her.
“Have you seen Khara this evening?” I try to sound casual, but the look she gives me
suggests I’ve failed miserably.
“Last time I saw her, Teresa was introducing her to some people.”
That’s my job. Though admittedly, Teresa is probably related to even more people in this room than I am.