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The Princess Finds Her Match

Page 13

by de Borja, Suzette


  First Walkden, now Nic telling her that what she felt for him was just sex?

  She should have just dropped the issue, but she was still smarting from his avoidance of her after the photo shoot. “That something else you were just saying, Nic?”

  His posture stiffened and he sensed danger. His blue eyes were wary.

  She decided to take a chance. “That something else is how I feel about you.”

  The total silence after her declaration was oppressive. There were no sounds coming from outside the house to break it.

  Then suddenly he shattered it. “Just promise me,” Nic said in a rough, low voice. “Promise me you’ll let me know if there are consequences.” His voice shifted to impersonal, as if she hadn’t said anything of consequence a few minutes ago. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 7 for Butler’s party.”

  Not waiting for her to reply, he quickly walked out of the kitchen, leaving her to deal with feelings that were sadly and humiliatingly unreciprocated.

  * * *

  Lexie’s strapless bottle-green silk dress stole his breath away, but it wasn’t until they were at the foyer of Butler’s Beverly Hills mansion where he got hit by the full effect. She was a few steps ahead of him as she eased the cashmere wrap off her shoulders and let it drop to her arms. Fuck! On her creamy shoulder blade, he caught a glimpse of the tattoo of his name. Damn if it didn’t make him go hard in seconds.

  Up ahead, Tansy Butler was welcoming other guests, but her smile grew sly when she spotted them hovering a few feet from the front door.

  “Lexie, wait up.” Nic didn’t exactly know why, but he didn’t want other people seeing the tattoo. It felt very personal and private and so intertwined with his memories of the way she was that night that he wanted no one else to see it but him.

  She halted, lifting her head to him questioningly.

  He none too gently grabbed the shawl and lifted it higher around her shoulders. Seeing her surprise, he said the first thing that came to mind. “You might get cold.”

  She frowned. “No, I won’t,” and shrugged the shawl off. He pulled it up once more.

  Her next attempt to push it down was aborted by Tansy, who approached them tottering in skyscraper-high stilettos. She appeared halfway pissed and in real danger of spraining her ankle.

  “Good evenin’, Your Highness.” Her cloud of heavy perfume assaulted Nic’s nostrils. “You’re lookin’ very lovely. Are you wearin’ Valentino?”

  Lexie smiled, and Nic felt some perverse satisfaction in the fake one she flashed Tansy. “It’s an old gown, but thank you. You look lovely as well.”

  Tansy preened, puffing her big hair with a hand. She then turned to him. “And here’s our naughty Nicky.” Her tone was light but her eyes were hard. “Sweepin’ the Princess off her glass-slippered feet. A girl could just bawl her eyes out at how romantic it all is. ”

  Lexie slipped an arm through his. “Yes, he is quite the romantic.” Tilting her head up, she gazed smilingly at him. Nic smiled back and then frowned. Her lovely lips were tilted up at the corners, but there was something different about it. It didn’t reach all the way to her cat eyes. For a second, he couldn’t believe he was actually on the receiving end of it. Fuck! She was giving him the same artificial smile she had just flashed Tansy. Remorse and hurt tightened his chest but he convinced himself it was better this way. When it was time to part, there would be no messy emotional confrontations to clean up. But if she was pregnant−

  A gasp snapped him back to the present. Tansy’s gaze was fixed with something akin to fascination and horror on the area of Lexie’s shoulder. The shawl must have dropped when she had tilted her head to look at him, and there was no guessing why Tansy was reacting with shock. The tattoo was clearly visible on Lexie’s smooth, fair skin.

  A society matron hailing Tansy from across the foyer distracted her enough so they were able to make their escape. She shot Nic a virulent look, and he knew it wasn’t over.

  It wasn’t the polo crowd this time as it was not polo season in Los Angeles. Nic recognized a few A-list celebrities and a handful of model types and executives as they made their way across the foyer to the garden where tables and chairs were set up. On a platform, a woman in a slinky gown was crooning an Ella Fitzgerald song. A makeshift dance floor on the lawn had several couples dancing to the music. Fairy lights were strung to the shrubs and trees, lending a romantic glow to the evening. Nic noted the barely concealed interest that was being thrown their way. Even Hollywood wasn’t immune to the charms of a real life princess. And Princess Alexandria had plenty of them.

  Nic gritted his teeth as Rupert Butler swooped down and introduced Lexie to his business cronies, leaving him standing all alone, feeling like a fool. No way was he going to let those balding lechers anywhere near enough to touch her. He caught sight of her two bodyguards, their eyes trained on Lexie as Butler held court and showed her off like a prized pony.

  A polo enthusiast, a woman who appeared in her thirties, started chatting him up. Nic could barely keep up with the conversation as he struggled to hear what was being said, as the men around Lexie laughed at something she must have said. Mercifully, after a few minutes of trying to engage him in conversation, the woman picked up on his distraction and walked away to get herself a drink. A tap on his shoulder got his attention.

  “Priscilla!” Nic was pleasantly surprised to see the celebrity photographer. She was alone and holding a drink with an olive. “How are you?”

  “Not working tonight, thank God,” she replied drily, her short bob swinging jauntily as she took a sip of her drink. “I’m done working the party scene. There is nothing as boring as taking photos of people getting drunk. Horses make better subjects.”

  “You took photos of Butler’s horses?”

  “He brought them in yesterday. Horse and Hound is doing an article on him. Guess who they picked to be the lucky photographer? The pay sucked, but I’m hoping for some private commissions after from other filthy-rich horse enthusiasts.” Noting Nic’s focus was elsewhere, she followed the direction of his gaze and remarked, “Looks like the Princess needs some rescuing.”

  Indeed, Lexie’s smiles were becoming tighter. Nic was just about to step in and extract her with a made-up excuse when, to his surprise, he saw her shake hands with the group of men, turn away, and firmly, with head held high, march towards him. She must have forgotten she was mad at him because this time, her smile made it all the way to her lovely cat eyes and Nic felt something tight squeeze in the area of his chest.

  He barely registered Priscilla’s bemused sideways glance at him and her amused comment. “You have it really bad, Nic.”

  “I know.” It was no use denying it. He had been done for the moment he had laid eyes on her. Now if he could only be strong enough to hide it from her.

  Nic saw her smile freeze when she realized he was not alone, and then it broke out like sunshine when she recognized who it was. “Miss Dux!”

  “It’s always lovely to see you, Your Highness.”

  “I’m truly sorry I wasn’t able to stay longer and have a chat with you that last time in your studio.” She colored guiltily and stole a quick glance at Nic. “We had− we had−” she floundered, and this time Nic rescued her.

  “We were running late for an appointment,” he interjected smoothly. God knew why he was fibbing. It surely wasn’t for Priscilla’s benefit. She had seen them sneaking out of the dressing room, their clothes in disarray, and had winked at Nic mischievously. Anyone who had seen them would surely know what they had been up to. Pris was now biting her lip to keep from grinning at Lexie’s adorable embarrassment.

  “Yes,” Lexie said, rather too quickly. “Very important appointment.”

  Thankfully, Priscilla changed the subject to photography. Nic learned that Lexie had really wanted to be a photojournalist.

  “I used to go around Seirenada doing street photography. I loved freezing a moment in time of that way of life.” She had a wistful
smile on her face. “With the changes in our principality, pretty soon it will be gone.”

  “Why did you stop?” Nic asked because the answer was important.

  “Stop what?” She had a faraway look in her eyes.

  “Doing street photography.”

  Lexie laughed self-consciously. “It was driving my brother crazy. Stefan deemed it too dangerous. I was recognized once and the local paparazzi outed me. I couldn’t go out in the streets undetected with my bodyguards tagging along,” she mused wryly. “And now I’m hiding from photographers all the time. How ironic. Present company exempted, of course,” she teased Priscilla, her eyes twinkling.

  The photographer smiled in turn. “Hence, you turned to landscapes,” Priscilla astutely remarked.

  “At least the rock formations don’t care who I am,” she said self-deprecatingly, and they laughed. At least Nic had to or else he wouldn’t be able to stop from taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless to wipe that look of brief sadness in her eyes.

  Attracted by their laughter, Nic saw Butler turn in their direction and disengage himself from his cronies. He strode to where they were, his boots buffed and shiny and his diamond-buckled belt glinting as hard as his eyes.

  After greeting the ladies, he said, “May I have a quick word with you, Nic?” He flashed Lexie a smarmy smile. “Polo business, Your Highness.”

  Lexie just nodded. Nic had a bad feeling about it.

  * * *

  Lexie was glad Priscilla was there to keep her company. They had moved to a corner far back from the stage, near some rose bushes, and she was content to watch the beautiful men and women from afar. Too near and she saw far too much.

  “The women are all starting to look the same.” Priscilla’s eyes roved over the glamorous crowd. “That’s what you get for going to the same plastic surgeon. I’m sure the men would use that as an excuse to conduct affairs. They could say, ’Hey, I thought I was banging my wife. In the dark I couldn’t tell it wasn’t my wife’s puffed-up lips that was sucking my cock.’”

  Lexie coughed.

  Priscilla grimaced. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. Sometimes, I talk before I think.”

  Lexie had recovered enough to say, “It’s Lexie. And don’t worry. I’m worse. I act before I think.”

  “Shit!’ Priscilla’s expletive rent the air. She was looking at a small commotion by the sliding door leading to the garden where a blonde woman with pixie-cut hair had just arrived. Tansy Butler was hovering by her side. “Speaking of acting, Melissa Rathborn just made her entrance.”

  Lexie’s blood pooled to her feet. Melissa Osgoode−Rathborn. The one and only long-term relationship Nic had had before the long string of women linked to his name.

  “That bitch!” Priscilla exclaimed, but she was looking at Tansy. “Since she can’t have Nic, she’s out to make trouble for him.”

  “Trouble?” Lexie managed to say.

  “Tansy knows Nic has been avoiding Melissa for years. When Melissa dumped Nic for her congressman, there were rumors she was pregnant and got rid of the baby,” Priscilla said grimly.

  “Oh my God.” That was why he was so insistent she tell him if there were any consequences from their unprotected sex. Lexie saw Tansy furtively scanning the partygoers. She knew he was looking for Nic. She had to warn him.

  Chapter Nine

  “I haven’t got a thing,” Nic had answered curtly at the patron’s query on the activities of the royal family. Butler had led him down a long hallway and inside a study. He sat behind a big desk and gestured for Nic to take the seat in front of it. He remained standing.

  “Seems you’re not giving it a hundred percent, Nic,” Butler drawled mockingly, lighting a cigar. “You’re not on top of your game. How about I give you a little tidbit that might liven things up a bit? Show you how much of a team player I am and that I do my own research.”

  Nic kept his mouth shut but felt foreboding. The way Butler was stretching this out, he knew it was going to be bad.

  “We look out for each other on the team, Nic,” Butler said with as much sincerity as the wolf to Little Red Riding Hood. “I don’t want you getting hurt and convincing yourself you’re in love with the Princess when she’s engaged to Walkden.” He paused after he detonated that little bomb. “Oops. I hope they’ve told you about the secret arrangement the old Duke and the Prince had for their son and daughter. That old fart Prince Horatio really knew how to make sure the deal falls through even after his death.”

  Nic kept his face deliberately blank, refusing to let Butler see how this information affected him.

  “The Princess will be stripped of her title and wealth if she doesn’t marry Walkden.”

  “Is that it?” Nic managed a fucking laugh. “That’s the information you have? You could have saved yourself the trouble, mate. Lexie and I understand each other. We have nothing but a pretend affair resulting from her brother’s tendency towards the dramatic.”

  “You forget, Fernandez, how easy it is for people to believe what they want to believe. For instance, some polo enthusiasts might catch whispers of a certain horse-breeding farm faking some papers to pass off their ponies as champion pedigrees.”

  Nic assumed his poker face. He wanted his fists to fly, but he knew that was Butler wanted. For him to lose control. A horse-breeder’s reputation can make or break his business, and in the polo world where people moved in the same rarefied circles, rumors quickly spread. His father and his grandfather had established the estancia as one of the world’s best breeding farms, producing champion polo ponies for royalty and the elite, and he’d be damned if he let this prick let it all go to waste.

  “When I want something, Nic, I don’t play fair. Following rules is for losers.” Butler’s tone was nonchalant, but his eyes were hard as flint. “I’m a winner, and I want that alledramite contract.”

  “You must be crazy if you think the Prince is going to deal with you, let alone hand you that contract when he knows how you conduct your businesses.”

  Butler laughed, a sound that grated on Nic’s nerves. “That’s why you’re here, Fernandez. I’m going to make sure after you give me what I want, he will begging me to take the contract.”

  “I told you I have nothing to give to you, Butler,” he reiterated forcefully.

  “You don’t, but his sister does.” At Nic’s uncomprehending look, Butler added with malicious enjoyment, ”Oh, be creative for once, dear boy. I see how you look at her. And Her Highness acts like a mare in heat around you,” he added crudely. “Give her what she fucking wants and then give me the video after.” He named a staggering amount. “I’m prepared to be generous. It’s a win-win situation for everyone all around.”

  “You bastard!” Nic’s control snapped and it was as if some devil had suddenly possessed him. Leaping over the desk, he grabbed the collar of Butler’s shirt and hauled him up from his chair. He shoved him to the nearest wall and said in a dangerously low voice, “If you ever do anything to hurt the Princess, I will kill you. That is a promise. Stay away from her!” He stepped back from him in disgust. “Good luck finding yourself a captain for the Argentine Open,” he added with relish, naming the most prestigious polo tournament in the world, “because I quit.” He added for good measure, “I’m pretty sure Walkden and his team will win again this year.”

  Leaving Butler in an apoplexy of rage and spitting invectives, he walked out of the study to find Lexie so they could depart with haste.

  The party was still in full swing when he stepped out onto the lawn, scanning past the couples on the dance floor and to the tables surrounding it, flickering with tea candles and throwing flattering light on Botoxed foreheads and injected lips. Lexie was nowhere in sight. A glance at his mobile revealed no missed calls. She must have gone to the ladies’ room. He was already pulling out his mobile to call her to meet up at the foyer when he saw a familiar face staring at him from the other side of the dance floor. He froze. It was Melissa.

  �
�Lookin’ for someone?” a slurred voice asked. Dragging his gaze from his ex-lover, Nic was confronted by Tansy’s slightly unfocused eyes.

  “Did you invite Melissa?” Nic demanded in a low growl.

  Tansy shrugged, a thin strap of her dress sliding down a shoulder. “Oops,” she giggled, not doing anything to pull it back up. “It’s a free country, Nic,” she said, surging towards him drunkenly. Nic straightened her with barely veiled distaste.

  “Sober up, Tansy,” he said sharply, and he thought he saw a fleeting second of calculating lucidity, but he must have imagined it because in a blink, she was back to her vapid self.

  “Her Highness is by the poolside.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Behin’ the stage,” she gestured vaguely. “Have to keep it hidden away or people who have had too much bubbly might be fallin’ into it by accident,” she giggled again.

  Nic was off before she even finished talking, his long strides eating up the several yards to reach the pool, dodging waiters with their trays, uncaring if he cut across groups of chatting men and women. The Olympic-size pool was glittering in the moonlight and was dimly lit. Lexie was nowhere to be seen.

  “Fuck!” he swore for falling for the bitch’s trick.

  “You read my mind exactly.” Tansy had approached from behind him, and before Nic could move, she had wrapped her arms around his waist. With an abrupt movement, Nic flung his arms out to break free.

  Tansy shrieked as she tottered on her heels, her hands flailing as she tried to break her fall by grabbing the nearest object to her, which was Nic. Her handbag shot an arc through the air and into the pool with a splash.

  “My fuckin’ Judith Leiber bag,” she shrieked, running to the edge of the pool and dropping on her knees in anguish. “Oh shit,” she wailed. “Oh shit!”

  Exhaling a sigh of exasperation and annoyance, Nic grasped her elbow and hauled her up onto her ridiculous heels to prevent her from going over the edge of the pool. He sure didn’t give a shit if she went over the edge of insanity over a purse! What he did care about was not getting involved in a search-and-rescue mission at this time of night and in this unusually cool fall weather for one drunk, ditzy blonde.

 

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