The Wicked Prince

by Nicole Burnham

  “Even if he’s a year behind Tehani in school, he’ll be a good sounding board.”

  Frannie nodded. Despite their unique circumstances, the teens at the shelter had the same emotional wiring as adolescents everywhere. They often felt more comfortable working through problems with each other than turning to adults.

  Once the older children had their food, the adults took turns serving themselves. The teachers and dining hall staff elbowed each other and joked around as they filled their plates. Tommy stood at the far end of the line from Frannie and Chloe, manning the grill, laughing with everyone as they complimented him on his pork and chicken. Across from the gazebo, Irene set up a speaker and encouraged the kids to dance once they finished eating, then joined the adults in line, swaying her hips in time with the music as she walked. It was as joyous as Frannie had seen the adults in a long time.

  Finally, Frannie’s eyes lit on Alessandro. He stood behind Tommy, deep in conversation with Remy. She couldn’t tell what the discussion entailed, but Remy’s mouth was going a mile a minute. Alessandro seemed transfixed, leaning in to ensure he caught every word. His hair gleamed with dampness, as if he’d showered before joining the party.

  “Wonder if he can cook?” Chloe whispered, her gaze following Frannie’s. “Not that it’d matter. Alessandro has other attributes.”

  “Tommy and Alessandro? Your hormones have officially gone into overdrive.”

  “That’s never been in doubt, but you misunderstand. I was wondering about Alessandro for you.”

  Frannie waved off the idea. “Forget it.”

  “You haven’t seen the way he looks at you.”

  “Since I locked up his Scotch, you mean?”

  Chloe pulled another packet of napkins from under the table and unwrapped them for the adults who were coming through the line. “Surely he’s over that by now.”

  “I imagine it crosses his mind every time he sees one of us walking from the shower house to our bunks wearing a white, fluffy robe.”

  Chloe tipped her head, conceding the point. “I do love my robe. I’ve never felt as self-indulgent as when I’m wrapped up in it, and that includes when I’m home in Melbourne, cuddled in a blanket in my favorite chair.”

  “Bet the shower is better at home, though.”

  “Even with those fancy soaps Alessandro gave us, it’s no contest.”

  Tommy waved for Frannie and Chloe to fill their plates now that everyone had gone through the line at least once. Frannie nearly groaned aloud at her first bite of the pork. Chloe was right; Tommy was a master.

  “Told you,” Chloe said as she took a seat next to Frannie on one of the gazebo benches.

  “Was Frannie wrong about something? Please, share.”

  Frannie jumped as Alessandro’s rich voice came from behind them. He had a paper plate balanced on one hand and held a fork in the other, a chunk of potato lanced by its tines. His soft gray shirt skimmed his chest and arms, highlighting his tight, muscular build. She’d started to think of the shirt as her favorite, specifically for its fit. Today he’d tucked it into crisp black shorts, a pair she’d never seen before. She wondered if he’d saved them for a special occasion.

  “She’s never wrong,” Chloe said, then shifted away from Frannie to make a spot for Alessandro between them on the gazebo bench. “I just told her that Tommy’s a miracle worker with chicken and pork.”

  “He’s a miracle worker, period,” Alessandro said. “That grill looks professionally manufactured. No one would guess that it’s cobbled together from recovered metal parts. As long as the shelter has food worth grilling, that will do the job.”

  Frannie and Chloe murmured their agreement around bites of chicken. Two nights prior, while the kids were occupied playing board games in the dining hall, the adults had taken turns walking to the area behind the gazebo to admire the finished product. They’d been shocked by how much Tommy had accomplished. Pearl instantly declared that she’d do her best to find the ingredients to make banana cake because no party on Kilakuru was complete without it.

  Walter had whimpered aloud at the words banana cake, earning him a ribbing from everyone gathered around the new grill. He’d told them that he could take the teasing as long as it meant he got the first slice. Pearl had promised it to him on the spot. In exchange, Walter called in favors from friends to secure the necessary ingredients.

  “Tommy told me you put in a lot of work, too,” Chloe told Alessandro. “I’m sure he appreciated the help.”

  “I liked talking with him. He’s a fascinating guy. I can see why his auto shop did great business.” Alessandro leaned forward. Keeping his voice pitched so only Frannie and Chloe could hear, he said, “I also had a helper of my own. Last week, the day you two set up the volleyball net, Tommy left me to work alone so he could join the game. Naomi wandered behind the gazebo and saw what I was doing. I put her to work cleaning the grill grates.”

  “She knew about the grill? That little stinker,” Chloe said, then frowned. “How did I not notice she was missing?”

  “You had two kids in the nurse’s station, so it wasn’t on your watch,” Frannie assured her. “Tommy saw Naomi walk that direction and told me. I kept waiting for her to come back to play volleyball, but she didn’t show up until dinner.”

  “She helped on two other days after that,” Alessandro said. “I didn’t want to say anything. I got the impression she didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “I wish she wouldn’t sneak away,” Frannie said, “but it’s good for her to feel like she’s contributing.”

  Alessandro opened his mouth to comment, but his gaze shuttered and he merely nodded.

  Before Frannie could think much of it, Chloe polished off her chicken, then stood. “I’m going back for seconds. Any requests?”

  “No, thank you,” Alessandro said, while Frannie shook her head no.

  It took only seconds for Frannie to realize that Chloe wasn’t coming back. After she helped herself to more chicken, Chloe filled a plate for Tommy and insisted he sit and eat with her in the gazebo, which left Frannie alone with Alessandro for the first time since they opened the boxes together in her office.

  Alessandro’s forehead creased in thought as he watched Chloe and Tommy. “I imagine, being Australian, that Chloe’s used to cookouts. Did you do anything like this when you were a child?”

  Frannie shifted to face Alessandro. She wondered if he sensed the same tension between them that she did whenever they spoke one-on-one. “With my Sarcaccian mother? Never. Even if she’d wanted to, we never lived where there was the space for it. What about you?”

  “With my Sarcaccian mother? Never.”

  His rolling laugh had her smiling in response. “No, I can’t picture your Sarcaccian mother eating barbecue from a paper plate.”

  “Queen Fabrizia standing behind the palace holding a paper plate full of potato salad would be a sight,” he admitted. “Though she’s missing out. The first time I attended a cookout, I was as an adult. It was in Tanzania, during my trip to climb Kilimanjaro. I loved it. There’s something about eating outdoors that makes food taste better.”

  Frannie took another bite of chicken and nodded her agreement.

  “Where were you raised?” he asked. “At Sophia’s party, you mentioned that your parents divorced when you were eight. You never said where you lived before attending the Sorbonne.”

  She couldn’t put a finger on why, but he wasn’t asking to be polite. He was genuinely interested.

  “I was born in New York, just outside the city, and lived there until my parents divorced. My mother moved back to Sarcaccia and my sister and I went with her.”

  His brows lifted. “I didn’t realize you grew up in Sarcaccia.”

  “I was only in Cateri for third and fourth grade. But before that, we always spent our summers in Sarcaccia, visiting my mother’s side of the family. Even though my father’s family is scattered throughout New York, Sarcaccia always felt more like home to me than t
he States.”

  “As it should…and I say that with no bias whatsoever.” Alessandro stretched one arm along the back of the bench. “What about after that?”

  “It was difficult for my father to visit us regularly when we were in Sarcaccia. Not many direct flights from New York, limited time off work…you can imagine the challenges. My sister and I missed him terribly. The summer before I started fifth grade, he requested a transfer to his firm’s London office. My mother agreed to buy a flat a block from his. My sister and I had rooms at both our parents’ places and went back and forth all the time. My sister was starting tenth grade then, so she was old enough to take me to school on the Tube. London was an adventure. We felt so independent.”

  “You must’ve loved that.”

  “I did.” Frannie couldn’t help but smile at the memory of those days. “Whenever my mother was in town, she tried to walk us to the station, which horrified my sister. She didn’t want her new friends to see her mother walking with her to the Tube, even if it was because of me. For the first week or two, my mother stayed about fifty meters behind us. When she finally realized my sister and I would be safe as long as we stuck together, she let us go. I suspect she watched from the window, though.”

  “I can understand that.” After a bite of papaya, he frowned. “You said whenever your mother was in town. She wasn’t there all the time?”

  “She was at first, but she never acclimated to life in London. She had as hard a time there as she did living in the New York suburbs.”

  “She missed Sarcaccia?”

  “I’m sure that contributed. Truthfully, though she’s never been one to settle. When she met my father, she was working at the United Nations as part of the Sarcaccian delegation. The pace of the job and the travel made her happy. She continued to work there after my sister was born, but by the time there were two of us, it was too difficult. It didn’t take long for her to realize that life with two kids in a three-bedroom house in the suburbs wasn’t for her. She needed outside engagement to keep her mind active. About a year after we moved to London, she accepted a job escorting study abroad students around Europe. She’d travel for a few weeks at a time and sit in on some of their classes. It made all the difference in her mental health. When she returned to London at the end of those trips, she was always so much happier.”

  “It had to be difficult for you and your sister.”

  Frannie shook her head. “My dad was great when she was away. He was always so organized, so reliable. Everything you’d expect of a finance guy. The stability he offered made the divorce much easier for my sister and me. He was our safety net. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to understand my mother, too.”

  She’d never before uttered those words; saying them brought her a sense of wonder. How had it taken her so long to realize this? “In fact, it was my mother’s example that gave me the confidence to leave Jack Gladwell to come work here. From the time my sister and I were young, she told us that no matter how comfortable or secure life may be, a person can’t grow without embracing change. And what’s life if one doesn’t grow?”

  Frannie took another bite of her chicken, then realized Alessandro hadn’t responded. She paused to study him. His mind seemed a thousand miles away.

  “And now I’ve officially bored you.”

  “Not at all. You’ve made me think.” His gaze sharpened, as if he’d ferreted out the answer to a puzzle. “You never felt abandoned while she was away? Or when your father was busy with work?”

  “Not at all. They made sure we knew we were loved. It wasn’t a traditional upbringing, but it worked for me.”

  Alessandro said nothing, but his expression was one of skepticism.

  “It wasn’t so different from your upbringing,” she pointed out. “You might have lived in a palace, surrounded by hundreds of staff members and government officials, but I mean in regard to your parents. Their positions require a great deal of travel. When you were a child, did it ever make you feel abandoned?”

  “No, it never did.” Surprise edged his voice. “It’s who they are. I never knew anything else.”

  “Neither did I.” She couldn’t help but smile at him. “I imagine it’s why you like to travel. It helps you understand how others live. Their traditions, their unique perspective on the world, what they hold sacred. I’m sure you’ve learned a lot about yourself and your capabilities over the years.”

  The dancing ramped up behind them as everyone finished eating. Toddlers paired up with the older kids, and the result was heartwarming. A few of the teenagers followed Tommy and Chloe to the volleyball net for a game. Walter and Pearl chatted as they covered the leftovers and handed off the food to two of the teachers, who carried the pans to the dining hall.

  “I should go help,” Frannie said. She started to stand, but Alessandro put his hand on her forearm, gently pressuring her to sit.

  “Stay.”

  “But—”

  “You set up. It’s all right to relax every so often, you know.” He aimed a look at her plate. “You don’t want to offend Irene by throwing away that coleslaw, do you?”

  She tried to ignore the warm strength of his fingers. “Whenever you and I have a moment alone, you tell me to relax. Why is that?”

  “You’re heard the saying about all work and no play?” A devilish grin lifted the edges of his mouth. “I have the play part of life mastered. I need more of the work if I’m to grow. You, on the other hand, need more of the play. It’s good for your mental health.”

  Her heartbeat picked up when he didn’t move his hand. She wondered if anyone else noticed the touch—Chloe in particular had sharp eyes—but Frannie didn’t dare look around to find out.

  “You’ve done plenty of work,” she assured him. “In fact, I owe you an apology for my attitude on your first day. I couldn’t figure out why you were here. I still don’t really know why you’re here. But you’ve made a big difference to the shelter. Not just by lending muscle, but by building relationships with the kids.”

  “You don’t need to apologize.”

  “I didn’t think you’d make it this long. In fact, I bet myself you wouldn’t make it a week.”

  He withdrew his hand, but only to cover his heart. “Ouch.”

  “See? I owe you an apology. So here you go: I’m sorry. I should have looked for the best in you instead of the worst.”

  “You had every right to be suspicious of my motives for being here.” His gaze fell to her mouth for a long beat, then he met her eyes again. “Given my behavior at the palace, you might’ve attributed it to attraction rather than altruism.”

  She laughed, but looked at her plate and scooped up the last of the coleslaw. She couldn’t let him see the truth…that she had wondered, if only for a brief moment. When she finished eating, she dropped her napkin on the plate and said, “My ego’s not so big I’d assume you’d fly halfway around the world for me.”

  He didn’t respond, but she could feel him watching her. Before she could carry her plate to the trash, he took it from her. “Come on. You’re not on cleanup duty today. You’re dancing.”

  Chapter 12

  “Alessandro—”

  “No arguments.” He walked to a garbage can that’d been placed to the side of the gazebo, tossed their plates, then strode back and grabbed Frannie’s hand, pulling her to her feet. “I happen to know that you’re an excellent dancer.”

  “You’re judging based on what you saw in a ballroom.” She glanced at the mass of dancing children, then to him. “This is as far from a ballroom as you can get.”

  “I’m well aware. Now I’ll get to see the full extent of your talent. If you dare.” He swung Frannie to the area where Irene, Walter, Pearl, and most of the kids danced and sang along to boisterous pop music. Several of the teenagers whistled and cheered, happy to see more adults joining the party.

  The infectious mood of the children and the thumping, rowdy tune sparked a light in Frannie’s eyes. “Oh, fine.
If that’s the way you’re going to be…I dare.”

  Alessandro stepped back in surprise as she whooped, raised her hands over her head, and started singing along with the kids, much to their delight. High-cheeked grins of genuine happiness surrounded him, a stark contrast to the polite smiles characteristic of palace functions or the thinly masked social desperation he witnessed in most dance clubs.

  He preferred this. He raised his arms and spun, dancing with the whirling pack of kids.

  “Now it’s a party!” Johnny called as he, Tehani, and three other teens joined the crowd. “Go, Miss Frannie, go!”

  Behind them, Julie’s dancing consisted of deep knee bends, which made her shiny black bun bounce on top of her head. She clapped her hands and smiled up at the teenagers as she imitated Johnny, saying, “Go, Miss Fwannie, go!”

  “Go, Julie, go!” Johnny called to the little girl.

  Ebullient laughter erupted from the toddler as her gaze met his and she grabbed the edges of her sundress to swirl it around her. “I’m go-go-going!”

  One by one, kids and adults alike peeled off from other activities to join the dancers, until the entire center of the compound was full. Even Tommy joined in, hoisting one of the toddlers on his shoulders, much to the little boy’s delight. Alessandro found himself in the midst of the middle-school-aged boys and girls, singing along as the music transitioned from pop to an edgy, alternative dance tune.

  Several songs later, as the adults began to tire, Alessandro found himself face-to-face with Frannie. She’d piled her hair into a messy knot on top of her head and her forehead shone from the exertion of dancing under the bright sunshine.

  He’d never seen her look sexier.

  “Bet that deep down, you didn’t believe I could dance outside a ballroom,” she accused, her voice all tease. “Assumed I was all uptight and no let loose, didn’t you? Miss Economics….that was so wrong.”