The Bachelor Prince

by Debbie Macomber

  “Oh,” mother and daughter murmured together in sorry disappointment.

  Hope’s day had been hectic. From the moment the alarm sounded that morning until this very second, she’d been on the run. There seemed to be a million errands that had accumulated in the past few weeks. Errands she’d been putting off.

  This day had been perfect. Since she had a dentist appointment in the afternoon, she decided to make a day of it. To be fair, her motives weren’t pure. She needed an escape to mull over and savor the evening she’d spent with Prince Stefano.

  If she followed her usual schedule, she’d face countless questions. Although Hope hadn’t said anything to Lindy about the prince, she suspected her friend had heard him ask her to meet him at the ferry terminal. And then there was her mother.

  Hope wanted to avoid all the questions, all the curiosity, and so she’d used this day as a convenient excuse to disappear.

  Since she hadn’t taken time for lunch and now it was nearing the dinner hour, Hope was famished when she finally arrived home. Checking her watch, she saw that she wasn’t scheduled to meet Stefano for another three hours. Briefly she wondered if he was going to opt for the Elvis costume again this evening.

  The phone rang just as she opened the refrigerator door. She groped inside for a carrot and then reached for the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Hope, sweetheart.” It was her mother. “Are you all right?”

  Hope frowned at the apprehension in her mother’s voice. ‘Of course I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “Well…I just didn’t know how you’d feel after dating Prince Stefano and everything. You seemed quite taken with him.”

  “Mother, I thought we already went over this.” Hope hadn’t mentioned anything to her mother and the other self-appointed fairy godmothers about seeing Stefano again.

  “I know, it’s just that…well, I didn’t want you to be hurt.”

  Hope had to bite her lip to keep from commenting on the letter Doris had written the prince, asking him his intentions. But to do so would reveal that she’d been in contact with him herself.

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “You’re sure?”

  The line beeped, indicating that she had another call. “I have to go, Mom.”

  “All right, sweetie. I just wanted to be sure you weren’t upset.”

  “I’m not.” The line beeped again and she picked up the second call. “Hello.”

  A slight pause followed her greeting. “Hope?”

  “Stefano.” She said his name in a rush of happiness.

  “Where have you been all day? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

  “I was doing a bunch of errands I’ve been putting off for weeks. You wouldn’t believe all the red tape involved in operating a small business. Then I had a dentist appointment. You’ll be pleased to know I’m cavity-free.”

  “When did you arrive home?”

  “Just a few minutes ago.” It dawned on her then that there could only be one reason for his call. He couldn’t meet her as they’d arranged, and her heart sagged with disappointment. “You can’t come this evening.” She said it for him, because it was easier than to have him tell her.

  “Nothing could keep me from seeing you again. I swear this has been the longest day of my life.” His voice was low and sensual and it was almost as if she were in his arms again. Which is exactly where Hope longed to be.

  “It has for me, too,” she whispered.

  He seemed to hesitate. “I’m scheduled to dine with the mayor and his wife this evening.”

  “Yes, I know. You already explained why we can’t meet until later. I understand, Stefano. Don’t worry.”

  “I’ve decided to have my driver deliver me to your home directly following the dinner. You’ll be there?”

  “Of course, but…”

  “I’m sorry to be so rude, but I must go. I’m at the mayor’s home now and they tell me dinner is being served. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Of course.”

  With that, the telephone line went abruptly dead, and Hope was left to wonder at the purpose of Stefano’s call. It had all been rather odd. Yes, he’d changed their plans, but she had the sinking sensation that there was far more to this than he was letting on.

  Hope chewed down on the carrot as she walked back into her bedroom and sorted through her closet, reviewing her choice in outfits. She decided upon jeans and a shirt with a southwestern pattern.

  She was examining the contents of her freezer, looking for something appetizing to zap in her microwave when she remembered she hadn’t checked her messages on the answering machine.

  The first was from Lindy who sounded madder than hops about something. A long beep followed and Stefano’s voice came on the line, claiming she shouldn’t put any credence in the article in that morning’s paper.

  Newspaper article? She’d brought the paper in with the mail and hadn’t bothered to look at it. She went through the entire front page and didn’t find a single word printed about Stefano.

  Not until she reached for the society page did she see it. The photograph of the prince gazing longingly at another woman seemed to slap her across the face.

  For a moment, Hope actually thought she might be ill. The impact of learning the man she loved was involved with another woman quite literally made her sick to her stomach. The blood rushed out of her face so fast that she grew dizzy.

  Hope slumped into the kitchen chair and waited for the nausea to subside. Three times she attempted to read the article, and each time discovered that she couldn’t get past the first five paragraphs. In those few short lines she learned that it was widely believed that the heiress, Priscilla Rutherford, had captured the Bachelor Prince’s heart and that a marriage proposal couldn’t be far behind.

  Hope didn’t know how long she sat there staring into space while she attempted to calm herself.

  She was such a fool. The man was known around the world as a playboy. How could she have allowed this to happen? That was what plagued Hope the most. Within the space of two days, she’d handed this man her heart. A man who collected women’s hearts the way some do foreign stamps and coins.

  He was good—she had to grant him that. He’d had her believing that he actually cared for her. Perhaps because she wanted to believe it so desperately.

  She didn’t cry. This was a pain too deep for tears. A betrayal. The funny part of it was that she didn’t actually blame Stefano. From what she saw of Priscilla Rutherford, the other woman was quite lovely. A woman Hope would like for a friend.

  Hope had nothing to offer Stefano other than her heart. Unfortunately he was already in possession of that.

  Two hours later the doorbell chimed and she stared at the door for several moments.

  “Hope, please.” It was Stefano.

  “Go away,” she begged. “Just go away.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I’M NOT LEAVING UNTIL we speak,” Prince Stefano insisted from Hope’s porch.

  “I have no intention of opening this door,” Hope said with equal conviction. He didn’t know the meaning of the word stubborn until he’d crossed swords with her. “You played me for a fool!” she cried.

  “All I’m asking is five minutes of your time,” Stefano pleaded. “Hear me out and if you still don’t want to see me, then I’ll quietly leave.”

  It wasn’t Stefano Hope didn’t trust, it was herself. The prince made her vulnerable in ways no man had before. As much as she’d claimed otherwise, she’d inherited a romantic nature from her mother and her irrational heart had led her down a primrose path. What angered Hope the most was the way she’d obtusely followed. She was smarter than this. If she hadn’t been so blinded by her attraction, she would have realized much sooner that a man like Prince Stefano couldn’t possibly be serious about someone like her.

  “Hope,” he pleaded, “all I want is five minutes of your time.”

  “Answer me one thing,” she insi
sted, finding herself wavering despite her earlier resolve. “Do you or do you not intend to marry Priscilla Rutherford?” The answer to that question would be all she needed to know.

  The prince hesitated. “Let me explain.”

  “Answer the question.” She trusted him to be honest. In light of what she’d learned, perhaps she was an even greater fool to believe Prince Stefano was an honorable man.

  “Trust me, Priscilla has nothing to do with the way feel about you.”

  “Stefano, if you want me to open this door, then you’ll answer the question.”

  Once again he hesitated.

  Fool that she was, Hope unlocked the door. Carrying on a conversation in this manner, with them both shouting to be heard through the thick oak door, was ridiculous.

  The mesh screen door was solidly locked in place. She stood on one side and he on the other. The barrier was flimsy at best, but necessary.

  Stefano’s gaze held hers. She read the agony in his eyes, the pain of the truth.

  “There are many things you don’t understand,” he whispered.

  “I understand that you wine and dine Miss Rutherford and sneak away to meet me in a back alley. What you failed to realize, Stefano, is that I may be a nobody, but I have my pride, and frankly you’ve walked all over it.”

  By the time she finished, her voice was trembling. She stopped abruptly and swallowed in an effort to control her emotions, complicated by her considerable anger.

  Stefano had made a mistake if he believed she would allow him to treat her in such a shabby manner.

  Briefly Stefano closed his eyes. “I would rather die than hurt you.”

  Hope knew he spoke the truth, but why would he marry another woman if he cared so deeply for her? There could only be one explanation. He was ashamed of her. Her family wasn’t good enough for the likes of Prince Stefano. Jordan wasn’t a surname that brought instant recognition in the world of high society, whereas the Rutherford name was emblazoned across one of the finest shipping lines in the world.

  “Are you going to marry Priscilla Rutherford?” she demanded, her voice strong and sure.

  He hung his head and nodded. “Yes.”

  “That’s everything I need to know,” she whispered. With that she closed the door. For a moment, the pain of the truth was almost more than she could bear and she slumped against the wooden structure, letting it hold her upright.

  Taking in a deep breath, she moved away from the door and looked out the window. Stefano had returned to his limousine. He sat in the back seat for several tortuous moments before giving his driver the order to leave.

  The long, sleek automobile moved away from the curb. Prince Stefano was out of her life. He could have lied, she realized, could have glossed over the newspaper article as gossip. Instead he’d admitted the painful truth, unwilling to spare him or her with lies.

  It seemed impossible that she could still love him, but she did.

  Nestled on her sofa, Hope drew her knees up and rested her forehead there. It took her a while to sort through her emotions.

  At first she was steamy with resentment. She was hurt. Angry. She looked for someone to blame. Her mother was the first person who came to mind. If Doris hadn’t purchased that ridiculous ticket none of this would have happened.

  Lindy was the second name on her list. If her friend hadn’t fed her this line about romance, Hope might have seen through the smoke screen.

  But ultimately there was no one to blame but herself. She was the one who’d been foolish enough to believe in fairy tales. She was the one who’d sat in a ferry terminal at eleven o’clock at night, praying Stefano would show. She was the one who’d handed him her heart on a tarnished silver platter.

  Loving Stefano had seemed so right. Hope had been foolish enougþ to believe she had it all figured out. Him figured out. Just as if she were reading a recipe. She’d seen the look in his eyes, tasted his kisses, held him in her arms.

  For a few short days she’d believed in the impossible.

  It was over now. She’d made sure he understood that. All she had left were the memories, and try as she might, she couldn’t make herself regret having fallen in love with the Bachelor Prince.

  An hour and a half later, Hope decided against sitting inside her home on a bright, beautiful evening and brooding over her mistakes. She needed physical activity to help her out of the doldrums. With that thought in mind, she decided to water her front yard.

  A bundle of nervous energy, she changed into shorts and a sleeveless top and brought the hose around to the front of the yard. Her roses needed to be clipped, and she made a mental note to put that on her to-do list for the weekend.

  A roar of a motorcycle zooming down her street caused her to turn around and glare at the rider. This was a peaceful neighborhood, and the irritation of loud noises wasn’t appreciated.

  The rider wore a white T-shirt, blue jeans and black boots, and when he saw her, he roared his bike into her driveway.

  “Hope.”

  Not until that moment did Hope realize the rider was Stefano. Her mouth sagged open in surprise.

  “I can’t leave matters this way between us. Unfortunately, I fear I’ve been followed. Come with me. Please.”

  “But…”

  He held his hand out to her. “I will never ask anything more of you. If you feel anything for me, you’ll do as I ask without question. Hurry, please, before I’m found.”

  Dropping the hose, Hope leapt onto the back of the motorcycle as if she’d been born on the seat of a bike, and placed the helmet he had for her over her head.

  She wrapped her arms around Stefano’s middle and within seconds they were off.

  The prince expertly wove in and out of traffic. She saw him checking his rearview mirror several times, and when they stopped for a red light, he turned and looked over his shoulder.

  “Who’s after you?” Hope asked, fearing he might be in some kind of trouble.

  “My bodyguard,” Stefano explained.

  “But don’t you pay him to protect you?”

  “Yes, but there are times, such as these, when I need my privacy. Antonio doesn’t appreciate that, I fear.”

  “How often do you come up with these disguises and the sudden need to escape?”

  Stefano chuckled, but his laughter lacked any real amusement. “Only since I’ve met you.”

  “Me?”

  The light changed and Stefano revved the engine, drowning out her thoughts as they continued down the busy street. Hope hadn’t a clue of their destination, and she wasn’t sure Stefano did, either. By the time he pulled over and parked the bike at the Ballard locks, Hope was convinced it would take a lifetime to figure out this complicated man.

  Stefano removed his helmet, helped her off the motorcycle and held her hand. They walked over to the viewing point and gazed at the long line of motor-boats and sailboats awaiting their turn to travel through the locks that linked Lake Washington with Puget Sound.

  “Forgive me for being so demanding,” he said without looking at her. “You had every right to refuse to come with me.”

  That was true. “I was under the impression that if I didn’t come, you’d have kidnapped me.”

  “I was desperate enough to have considered that, although I’d like to think myself incapable of such a crime. After this evening, I’m no longer sure.”

  “This evening?”

  “When you closed the door on me.”

  It hadn’t occurred to Hope that this was probably the first time anyone had behaved so brusquely with His Highness. Generally, doors were opened for him, not slammed in his face.

  “I can’t bear the thought of leaving matters as they were between us,” he explained. His gaze studied the deep green waters as if he dared not turn and look into her eyes.

  “I don’t know that there’s anything left to say.”

  “Perhaps not, but I couldn’t leave without telling you the truth. I owe you that much.”

 
; Frankly, Hope had had just about all of that she could take for one day. “I know you’re going to marry Miss Rutherford. You told me that yourself.”

  “Yes, but you do not know why.”

  “I’m not stupid, Stefano. Priscilla Rutherford is far more socially acceptable than I am. I own a coffee shop, remember? Not a shipping line.” Although she tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, she feared she had little success.

  Stefano turned and looked at her for the first time. He framed her face in his hands and gazed deeply into her eyes. His own narrowed with an emotion she was sure she misread…love. A love so strong, it left her shaken.

  “No, my love, what you’re thinking couldn’t be further from the truth. I must marry Priscilla Rutherford because she’s an heiress.”

  Hope blinked. “I don’t understand. You’re one of the wealthiest men in the world…or so I’ve read. It doesn’t make any sense that you’d be forced to marry for money.”

  He hung his head as if deeply ashamed. “It’s true. My country is on the brink of bankruptcy. For the last year I’ve drained my family fortune in an effort to keep the economy stable. Other than a meager trust to cover my personal expenses, I’m nearly penniless.”

  “Oh, Stefano.”

  “Falling in love now is God’s joke on me. You see I never really believed in love until I met you. Isn’t it ironic that I should give my heart to one woman and be forced to marry another?”

  Hope blinked stunned by his confession.

  “I promised myself a week with you. It was selfish and thoughtless of me not to have told you the truth in the beginning. I love you, Hope. I’ll always love you, but within the next couple of days I’m going to walk away from you and never look back.”

  A tear blazed a trail down her face and she furiously wiped it aside, hating the weakness of emotion. “This is supposed to make me feel better?”

  He blinked with surprise at her anger. “I…I’ve hurt you again.”

  “You couldn’t leave matters the way they were? Oh, no, you had to be sure I knew you loved me. Well, that’s just fine and dandy.” More tears escaped, and she ran her forearm under her nose, and sniffled loudly. “This is just great.”