The Princess and the Pauper

by Nancy Bush

  “Princess,” he muttered furiously against her lips. But even hearing the revulsion in his tone, April wasn’t about to let him stop now. She wanted too much. She wanted him. Her chest heaved. She wrapped her arms around his neck. If she could have, she would have wriggled until his hand was forced to cover her breast.

  The moment spun out. Breathing fast and wanting more, April clung to him. But it was as if he’d turned to stone. She realized distantly that he was fighting for control.

  Suddenly he pulled back, his fingers accidentally brushing the underside of her breasts. Her nipples actually pulsed and tingled. April was too bemused to do more than stare up at him, her lips parted and her breathing unsteady. Her whole body throbbed with unfulfilled longing. She saw Jesse thrust a hand through his blond hair and regard her through fierce eyes. “You’re playing with fire,” he said softly, a muscle working in his jaw.

  She didn’t answer. What was there to say? He was right. But he’d shown her something she hadn’t believe existed. Oh, sure, Carrie rhapsodized about Phillip and the way he made her feel, but April had sincerely thought that sex was highly overrated. She’d never felt any desire to continue past a kiss. Until tonight.

  “I’m going,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. He strode off toward the entrance.

  As soon as he was twenty feet away, April felt the ominous silence of the deserted park. She hurried after him across the cool grass and caught up with him at the rhododendron bushes. “Would you have really left me there?” she asked breathlessly, following him across the road to his motorcycle.

  “Yes, if I had any sense.”

  “That’s not what you said earlier.”

  He half-laughed, flinging a leg over the leather seat, then he kick-started the engine until it popped and roared. The noise filled the quiet streets.

  “Your coat,” April reminded him, slipping her arms out of the sleeves and handing it to him.

  Jesse tossed it on without a word, tightened the strap of his helmet and sped away from her, but he watched in his rearview mirror, needing to be assured she was safely inside before he could leave Windsor Estates.

  April ran quietly up the brick walk and stone portico steps. The massive, ten-foot-doors were locked. She bit her lip. Her key was in her purse – in Lance’s car. Silent as a wraith, she circled the house to the side door. It, too, was locked, and April had to search through the ceramic planters until she found the one with the spare key.

  The house was cool and quiet. April grimaced when the door shut with a loud click. Tiptoeing hurriedly, she made her way down the tiled corridor, around the corner into the foot of the stairs. Her hand was curved around the polished banister when she felt someone’s eyes on her. Turning swiftly, she caught sight of her father sitting motionlessly on one of the dining room chairs.

  “It’s two-thirty,” Peter Hollis said in a tone that sent warnings dancing up and down April’s spine.

  “I know. I’m late.” She swallowed. “I was… at the park.” What did she look like? she wondered fearfully. What did he see?

  “Lance didn’t bring you home.”

  April inwardly winced. Had her father been looking out the dining room window the whole time? “No, I left him at a party. We had a, er, disagreement.”

  “Why didn’t you let yourself in the front door?”

  “I left my purse in Lance’s car.”

  “And your shoes?”

  “Dad, can we talk about this tomorrow?” April burst out. “Nothing happened to me. I’m just tired and disappointed. Tasha got Pink Carnation Ball Queen.”

  Her father rose to his feet and came to stand beside her. “You know I don’t like you riding on motorcycles,” he said. “No matter if you and Lance had a fight or not.”

  “It won’t happen again,” April assured him, easing up another step.

  His gaze swept her filthy dress and wind-tangled hair, and his brow furrowed with concern. “April, are you sure you’re all right? Who was that young man who brought you home?”

  “Nobody. Believe me, dad, it’s nothing to worry about.”

  But later as she lay in bed, her head cradled on one arm, her eyes staring at the high ceiling above her, April asked herself what could have possessed her to take off on a motorcycle with a man she barely knew. Jesse Cawthorne. The name itself sent off warning bells. Who was he? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?

  Groaning, April buried her face in her pillow, blocking out the memory of his hard muscles and mocking smile.

  Jesse’s motorcycle shifted down into a protesting whine as he once again pulled into the rutted driveway. He still had time to kill before he had to be at work. Angry at himself for reasons he didn’t quite understand, he thrust open the screen door and strode inside the run-down but tidy house. His mother was asleep on the couch, one arm tossed over her face.

  “Jesse?” she asked, lifting her arm. “Jordan with you?”

  Jordan. A stab of guilt pierced his thick shell. “No, I left him at a party on the river.”

  She struggled to her elbows. “He’s not home yet,” she declared with rising panic. “You don’t think he’s in more trouble, do you?”

  “Calm down. He was passed out cold the last I saw him.”

  “Jesse!”

  “I am not his babysitter!” he exploded with unusual lack of control. Then, seeing the regret in his mother’s lined face, he muttered “Oh, to hell with it. I’ll go find him.” Furious, he kicked open the door, striding back to the motorcycle.

  He drove with a rage way out of proportion to the circumstances. When he arrived at Three Bears the party was little more than a memory. Trash littered the area and one lone soul was staggering around, picking it up. Jordan, Jesse realized. Behind him stood two burly men whom Jesse recognized as nearby landowners. They were putting Jordan to work.

  Some of Jesse’s anger subsided. He laughed inwardly at his younger brother’s plight. Maybe it would knock some sense into him. If things didn’t change soon, Jordan wouldn’t make it to graduation. Jesse, who had traveled a similar path, was intent on saving Jordan from the mistakes he’d made. Smiling, he stood on the ridge where he’d encountered April scant hours before, and watched Jordan clean up the remains of the party, grumbling all the time that it wasn’t his responsibility alone. The two neighbors didn’t much care.

  A familiar scent wafted to Jesse’s nostrils. April’s scent. His pulse accelerating, he turned quickly, half expecting to see her. But then he realized the scent was on his jacket. He just hadn’t noticed before.

  His gut tightened, and he banked down the smoldering images that leapt into his mind. He could still see her creamy flesh. Sucking his breath through his teeth, he scrambled and slid down the path to the riverbank.

  “Jesse?” Jordan asked in surprise, weaving on his feet as he squinted at his brother.

  “Shut up and pick up. I’ll help.”

  “What’sa matter with you?”

  “Nothing.” Jesse grabbed the plastic sack from his brother’s slack fingers and began tossing beer bottles inside. By the time he was finished, Jordan was sitting on a rock, his head nodding. Jesse nudged his shoulder and strode back up to his motorcycle with Jordan trailing behind.

  “Put this on and don’t let go,” Jesse ordered while handing Jordan a helmet.

  A thousand stars glittered in the sky now swept clean by a soft spring wind. But still he could smell April’s tantalizing perfume.

  A bad sign, he decided, kick-starting the motorcycle. A very bad sign.

  Chapter Three

  The blast of a familiar horn awakened April. Rolling over, she squinted one eye at the clock. Eleven o’clock. Lance was up and around awfully early for him.

  An incredible weariness stole over her as she recalled last night’s events. She didn’t want to see Lance. She didn’t want to face what this meant for their future.

  Tossing on a robe, she ran her fingers through her hair, grimacing at the nasty tangles
, which refused to uncoil. The wind had done its job well. She doubted one brushing would resolve the problem.

  The doorbell chimed as she ran barefoot down the thickly carpeted stairs. “I’ll get it!” she hollered, before her mother could appear.

  “Hi.” Lance smiled sheepishly as April opened the door a crack.

  “Hi.”

  “Can I come in?” he asked holding out her purse as a peace offering.

  She pulled the door open, just wide enough for Lance to squeeze inside and hand off the clutch. He hovered in the entry hall, a hulk out of place amongst the delicate Queen Anne furniture.

  “Could we, er, talk?” he asked uncomfortably.

  April led the way into the living room. Her mother would frown at her appearance, but she didn’t much care. She wanted to punish Lance, and indifference seemed as good a way to reveal her feelings as any other.

  “Sorry about last night,” he mumbled. “You just… ran off.”

  “I ran off?” And what did you do? Or should I say, what did you and Tasha do?”

  A brick-red flush climbed up his neck, but before he could answer, April’s cell phone chirped. She pulled it out of her clutch and murmured, “It’s Carrie.”

  Standing up from the table April casually walked away from Lance toward the sun room before answering her cell.

  “Hey,” she answered.

  “April, have you seen Lance yet?” Carrie demanded without preamble.

  “Uh… yeah.”

  “Is he there? Are you talking to him?”

  She hesitated. “Well, yeah. Shouldn’t I be?”

  “You know what happened between him and Tasha? I already heard from Phillip. You do know, don’t you?”

  April heart began to beat heavily. She wanted to clap her hands over her ears. “I think so,” she said unevenly.

  “Has he told you? I can’t believe they were together. I mean together. Where were you? I looked all over for you.”

  April’s head spun. “Look, Carrie, I’ll talk you later, okay? It’s kind of hard right now.”

  “Okay… ” she said slowly. “Call me later.”

  “Yeah.”

  Lance’s dark eyes were worried when April returned to the living room and perched herself on the edge of the couch. “What did Carrie say?”

  Drawing a breath, April looked down at her hands. What did she feel? Anger. Humiliation. It didn’t take a mind reader to figure out what had happened between Lance and Tasha. She just couldn’t believe it. How could he? How could he just leave her and –?

  “April, it just happened,” Lance burst out. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again. I don’t want to be with her. I want you.”

  April asked tonelessly, “You slept with her, didn’t you?”

  He looked pained, his gaze sweeping down to center on the tips of his scuffed sneakers. April was so incredibly furious that she could hardly see straight.

  “Get out of here,” she said through her teeth, brushing past him.

  “April—”

  “Get out!”

  They glared at each other for several moments, but Lance was the first to avert his eyes. Then, assuming a belligerent air, he stalked to the front door, slamming it in his wake.

  April covered her face with her hands. She thought about Jesse’s kisses, and misery welled up inside her. How had things become so crazy? It was terrible. Nothing was ever going to be the same again!

  With a cry of anguish she ran upstairs and flung herself across her bed, beating a pillow until her arms ached.

  Graduation day dawned gray and overcast, the air thick and heavy with moisture. By the time April was slipping her arms into the sleeves of her black graduation gown and fixing the mortarboard atop her hair, rain was misting the air, covering the windows with a soft curtain.

  “Hurry up, it’s time to go,” her father called. April scurried down the stairs and into the Mercedes sedan.

  Her younger sister Nicole eyed her appearance critically. “Caps and gowns are ugly.”

  April turned away and looked out the window. Soon it would be over. High school would be a memory. The sweet vista of college loomed on the horizon. She couldn’t wait to shake the dust of Rock Springs off her shoes.

  The auditorium was packed with parents and students. The background noise was a dull, fuzzy roar, like the static on a radio station. April lined up with the rest of her class and filed in to her seat; the obligatory graduation march played in the background. Two rows up and one seat over, Lance sat down beside Kristy Kramer. He glanced back, and April met his eyes for one brief instant.

  It was the least she could do. He’d tried a dozen different ways in the past few weeks to try and see her.

  He smiled and winked at her, and April looked away, uneasy. The truth was, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Lance to be her boyfriend again. She didn’t know what she wanted.

  Two hours later, she had her diploma in hand and was being hugged and kissed by all her friends and family. Euphoria filled her. She’d made it! It was over!

  Suddenly Jordan Taylor was swooping her into a big hug. “April Hollis!” he exclaimed, grabbing her and spinning her around.

  “Jordan Taylor,” she responded, laughing. “So they let you graduate.”

  “Only because none of the teachers could stand having me around for another year. Are you going to the party at Tasha’s tonight?”

  Her look was cool. “Are you serious?”

  The faint smile that touched his lips reminded her so much of Jesse that she caught her breath. She stared at his mouth. She couldn’t help herself. “Come on, April,” he said in a serious tone she wouldn’t have expected of the class clown. “The whole senior class will be.”

  “Lance will be there.”

  He nodded. “He’s yours, y’know. If you want him.”

  April wasn’t sure what amazed her most – his advice or his resemblance to Jesse. Before she could decide, he was yanked by the arm toward a crowd of jubilant graduates near the front door.

  Which left April standing face-to-face with Jesse Cawthorne.

  He’d deigned to give up the jeans and leather jacket for gray slacks and an open-throated, white shirt. She glimpsed a flash of surprise in his amber eyes the moment before it was extinguished.

  “Well, hello,” April said shyly.

  “Hi, Princess.”

  He glanced away, seeming as uncomfortable as she. Searching for something clever and witty to say, she remarked, “Looks like your brother and I made it. Graduated, I mean.” Heat flooded her face as she heard her innocent double entendre.

  But Jesse didn’t embarrass her by pointing out her little slip. “I was just looking for Jordan, but he disappeared.”

  “He went thataway.” April pointed to the open doors.

  “Thanks.”

  Jesse started to walk away. Unable to help yourself, April trailed behind him, her eyes fixed on his wide shoulders. He possessed a grace of movement she hadn’t noticed before, a strong, purposeful step that made him seem to glide.

  “Jesse…” He glanced over his shoulder and April moved up beside him, buffeted by the crush of people pouring from the auditorium. “Jordan said he’s going to Tasha’s party tonight. I just wondered if… you were.”

  “Me?” He swept her look of disbelief.

  “Well, you were at the last party.”

  “Not by my own making.”

  “Would you go with me?”

  The words were blurted out before she could think them over. The searching stare Jesse sent her made her wither inside. “No,” he said at length.

  April waited, feeling so small that she thought she might be able to crawl beneath the mat. He offered no explanation. No words of reassurance. Humiliated beyond belief, she turned away, just as Lance’s hand stole around her waist.

  “April, my love, come away with me tonight,” he said in a stage whisper into her ear. “It’s time to celebrate!”

  A chant began. �
�Celebrate! Celebrate! Celebrate!” April twisted around to see Jesse tap Jordan on the shoulder, say something that made Jordan laugh, then melt into the mass of people. She watched his blond head for a long time, but he was swallowed up by the crowd long before he reached the outer gate to the parking lot.

  Evening shadows were creeping over the stone steps of the Bennington’s front porch as April leaned good-naturedly against Lance’s shoulder. A driving beat sounded from an immense stereo system inside the house; even the stone slabs beneath her feet seemed to be throbbing. Lance, who had only consumed alcohol once before, at Three Bears, was making up for lost time. He was working on his fourth beer.

  “You’re not driving me home,” April pointed out.

  “Okay, you can drive me.” He was apparently as eager to oblige as she was. “But let’s not go home.”

  A rain-laden breeze swept across April’s cheek. “What do you have in mind?” she asked carefully.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he murmured, turning her to face him. A sloppy kiss missed her mouth and landed somewhere on her chin. April wrinkled her nose. “How about Mill Road?”

  “Is that where you took Tasha?” She smiled thinly. “And I do mean that literally.”

  “April, don’t be like that. It was a stupid, stupid…” He waved one arm, as if he couldn’t remember how to finish. “How can I make it up to you?” He leaned down to meet her eye-to-eye, grinning like a lascivious oaf. “Remember, we gotta celebrate.” He yanked lightly on her long, dark hair, and kissed her forehead.

  Unfortunately he stumbled and nearly knocked April off her feet. She righted him with an effort. “Why don’t we go somewhere and eat?” she suggested. “I’ll get Carrie and Philip.”