by Lara Hunter
“We’re flying today, Marty,” the Prince said to the gardener, flashing him a smile. “Off to Miami.”
“Be safe, sir,” the gardener said back. “You have a lady with you this time.”
“She’s not a lady, Marty. She’s a model.” He turned to her and winked, and Kate nudged him hard with her elbow, making him wince.
“I hope I don’t have to put up with this attitude all the way to Miami,” she said.
“She’ll put you in your place, sir,” Marty said. Then he turned back to his flowerbed, his hands covered with soil.
The Prince walked Kate to a garage that was slightly hidden inside the forest. He opened the garage door to reveal an all-terrain Jeep. “We have to drive out to the airfield,” he told her, “but it’s not far.”
Kate sat in the passenger seat and crossed her ankles, feeling suddenly nervous. The Prince revved the engine and then backed out, whistling sharply. It felt strange to see him do such normal, everyday things.
They sat in companionable silence as they drove to the airfield. Kate couldn’t get enough of the scenery as they drove through the rainforest and then burst out into civilization once more. The place was brimming with such light and life. Even the city was colorful, the buildings painted in greens, blues and yellows. She wanted to pull out her tiny hidden camera and take more snapshots, but she thought better of it and kept it in her purse.
“How does Panama City compare to Monaco?” she asked him, breaking the silence.
“I’d say the people here are friendlier,” he said, turning down a side road. “In general, they don’t really know who I am. They just don’t read the tabloids like you Americans. But they still greet me with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. Every time I return here from Manhattan, I feel it especially. Manhattan is cold, and its people are even colder. But I suppose I don’t have to tell you that. You lived there for years.”
“Near the park,” Kate said, an image of her apartment flooding her mind. “Although I’d say when you’re young and beautiful, people are kind to you everywhere. Once I hit twenty-two, it was like the bottom dropped out on me. Manhattan turned on me. When before I’d been at the top of every guest list, I now couldn’t even find myself on one. It was disheartening to say the least. I suddenly remembered the diet plan my mother had gone on when she’d been in her forties and just hitting that wall of her metabolism. She felt that no one looked at her anymore.”
They were now in the country again, nearing a flat plot of land with a single airstrip down it. A plane sat upon it, waiting for them, its white nose pointed toward them.
“My mother went through something similar,” Francesco said, turning once more. “She was queen, but she knew she wasn’t as beautiful as she once was. I heard her weeping about it in the bathroom. I’ll never forget it—the realization that my mother would grow old, and so would I.”
“Oh, but it’s different,” Kate said. “You men get more interesting looking as you get older, but women just get droopy.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t know, I only surround myself with models,” Francesco winked, returning to his cocky persona. He stopped the Jeep near the airstrip and got out, not bothering to open Kate’s door for her. Sighing lightly, she joined him near the airstrip.
A man was preparing the jet for Francesco. He waved at them before stepping down, taking the stairs to the pavement. He removed his gloves and shook Francesco’s hand, hardly giving Kate a glance.
“She’s ready for you,” he said. “All gassed up. You going to Miami?”
“That’s right. This little lady has a predicament, and I’m just the man to solve it,” the Prince said. “Thanks for setting her up on such short notice.”
“Not a problem,” the man said. He gestured toward the plane, and Francesco walked swiftly toward the steps. Kate followed him, her breath catching in her throat as they entered the cabin. The plane was luxurious, if small, with several leather seats spread over the floor plan.
“Do you have people up with you often?” she asked.
“No,” the Prince said. “Too distracting. But once in a blue moon I’ll have a model or two up with me, and they like to make a ruckus back here. Popping champagne. Getting naked.” He smirked.
“I see,” Kate said, taking a seat beside the pilot’s chair. “Well I hope you don’t mind if that’s not the way I spend our hours together.”
The Prince grinned absently. He started the engine, his eyes suddenly looking far away. Kate strapped herself into the passenger seat, feeling the vibrations from the engine jiggle through her. She crossed her arms and watched as the Prince moved the plane into place on the runway, bringing the wheels to the center.
“Are you ready to roll, Kate?” he asked her, his voice deep. “Because once we’re up in the air, there’ll be no turning back.”
“Ready,” Kate declared, feeling the drama of the moment. Even the Prince seemed slightly on edge, as if every takeoff was a roll of the dice.
The plane careened down the runway, then, and ripped into the sky. As they left the runway, the Prince cried out gleefully, seeming freer than he had before.
Kate smiled, showing her teeth, and peered down at the ground as they left it. She placed her fingertips against the window and whispered a goodbye. Chances were, she wouldn’t see Panama again.
Stranded With The Prince is available on Amazon now.
Other books by Lara Hunter:
The Sheikh’s Captive Love
The Sheikh’s Green Card Bride
Auctioned To The Sheikh
I Want You For Christmas: The Prince’s Lost Princess
The Billionaire’s Christmas Bride
The Sheikh’s Tempted Protectress
The Brazilian Billionaire’s Blackmail Bargain
The Prince’s Cinderella Love
The Prince’s Triplet Baby Surprise