The Princess Finds Her Match

by de Borja, Suzette

  He shoved her into a lawn chair while she tore her hair out over her handbag. Loath as he was to do it, he whipped out his mobile and dialed Butler’s number so he could collect his hysterical wife.

  “What are you doing?” She stopped wailing for a moment to question him suspiciously.

  “Butler, your wife−“ As soon as she realized who he had called, the mad woman jumped to her feet, surprisingly agile as a cat for someone as pissed as her, and snatched the mobile from him.

  “Oh, Rupie,” she cried, sounding sober enough.”Darlin’, where are you? The most horrible thing ‘appened.” She paused, fixing Nic a venomous glare. “My phone fell into the pool and I saw Nic passin’ by and borrowed his phone.”

  Nic couldn’t make out what was being said on the other end, but Tansy’s face whitened and her grip on the mobile became tighter. Before Nic could stop her, she started walking very fast towards a glass door panel to the interior of the mansion, nodding her head vigorously.

  He made a move to follow her, but a lilting voice stopped him in his tracks.

  “Nic?” Lexie’s face was puzzled. “Was that Tansy?”

  The moonlight kissed her pale, creamy skin with a pearly glow. A soft breeze carried that hint of lavender he would forever associate with her. He took his time looking his fill. She let him, not uttering a single sound. Perhaps she had sensed his strange mood.

  She belonged with Walkden, not with him. She might have convinced herself that she was in love with him but Nic knew all too well that love was not enough. After the rosy glow had faded, reality would reassert itself and Lexie would miss her way of life. He was comfortable enough that she would never want for anything, but she doubted she would be able to adjust to a ranch in Argentina or traveling like a nomad for half a year for tournaments. After the glow had faded, she would leave like Melissa did.

  As if by telepathy, she broke the silence first. “I saw her in the party. Melissa Rathborn.” She was watching for his reaction.

  He kept silent.

  “I thought I’d warn you,” she said. “That is, if you didn’t want to see her. Priscilla said you might not want to.”

  It warmed his soul and filled him with foolish yearning to know that Lexie was trying to look out for him, even if he made little of what she thought were her feelings for him last night. “Pris is a busybody,” he said without heat.

  “I like her.” There was a stout defensiveness in her voice for her new friend that Nic just had to smile. Her next words wiped it off. “Is it true, Nic ? Did she get rid of your baby?” she whispered starkly.

  He wanted to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come out. Some things were too painful to articulate.

  A heartbreaking “Oh, Nic,” was all she said as she reached up, stood on her toes, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Her softness yielded to the hardness inside him. He gently pried her off. He had to be tough for both of them. He saw the confusion in her eyes.

  “It was a long time ago,” he said, dismissing the matter and by doing so, trivializing the sympathy she was giving him.

  She lowered her lids, but not before he saw the hurt in their hazel depths.

  He took her hand firmly. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Avoiding eye contact, Nic wove their way through groups of people until they reached the foyer. His mobile rang and reaching into his coat, he simultaneously realized Tansy still had it at the same time a man beside him answered his device. They both had the same ring tone.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath.

  Lexie looked at him, startled by his expletive.

  “I left my phone inside,” he explained. “Just wait for me here.” He glanced at the marbled foyer where a few people were milling around. “Just pretend to talk on your mobile so nobody will bother you.”

  As his eyes scanned the room to make sure the bodyguards were present before leaving her on her own, he noticed Tansy and Butler making their way to them. He intercepted the couple before they got near Lexie.

  “Your forgot your phone.” A strangely subdued Tansy handed him his mobile while Butler looked on. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. Nic didn’t trust the sly, gloating expression on the patron’s face.

  “See you around, Nic,” Butler said, an odd gleam in his pale eyes. His glance briefly flicked behind him to where Nic knew Lexie was standing, waiting for him. A ghost of a smile played on his thin lips before he turned around, heading for the party once more. Tansy scurried after him nervously.

  Nic tracked their retreating figures thoughtfully until they walked through the French doors leading to the lawn. He expected Butler to be furious after their encounter. Something definitely didn’t add up.

  * * *

  Nic was in a grim mood on the drive back to the mansion. Lexie could see it in the tight set of his jaw. He did not speak to her at all. It allowed her some time to think about their relationship − the one he was bent on avoiding and she was determined on having.

  Lexie had three days left to convince him they were meant to be together. Now that she knew that he had been scarred by Melissa, she knew that she had to prove to Nic that she wasn’t that kind of woman.

  She deeply regretted walking out that morning in his hotel room in Vegas, but she knew in her heart if she could only convince Nic she was in for the long haul, he would let down his guard enough for him to see that they would be good for each other. He brought her to the front door, carefully avoiding any kind of contact.

  “Won’t you come in?”

  “I can’t,” he said starkly, his hands deep in his pockets.

  “Why not?” She felt like a petulant child, but she didn’t really care. All she cared about was he stay. Stay so that she could chip at his defenses and sneak into his heart.

  “Everything is just pretend, Lexie, and on my part, it still is.”

  She heard the words but she didn’t believe him. Wouldn’t believe him. As a child, she found out that a wound only hurt once you saw it was there.

  “I don’t think I’m the one who is pretending now, Nic. I can’t anymore. Not with you.” She stared into his heart-stoppingly beautiful blue eyes, willing him to take a chance.

  His eyes were stormy, and his hand shot out in front of him as if to ward off her words. “Don’t say it, Lexie.”

  But she wasn’t good at heeding him. “I’m yours, Nic.”

  “You are not mine,” he ground out each word harshly. “You are engaged to Walkden. You were never mine.”

  So he knew. It didn’t matter. She would make him believe. “I broke it off.”

  She was standing on the highest step leading to the front door, and it made her face level with his. He remained quiet, but Lexie knew he wasn’t unaffected as he tried to appear. He raked an unsteady hand through his dark, wavy hair. “All my life I’ve tried to be a proper princess, to fit the mold I was supposed to fit. It was not much of a sacrifice compared to what other people had to live with. I thought I was being so noble, being the martyr,” she gave a derisive laugh, “but that was just self-deception. The truth was I really had nothing I wanted to be improper for. There was nothing worth risking everything for. That is, until I met you.”

  She held her breath, waiting for him to hold her hand and jump off the tower with her. “You are lovely and sweet and all any man could hope for.” Her heart started fluttering erratically at his words. Lexie felt faint. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to be loved by this kind, strong man. She leapt off the precipice and was free-falling. “But I’m not the man for you, Lexie. It was just sex. Great chemistry. Don’t delude yourself into thinking it was more.” She crashed to the ground, splintering into broken heart and bones.

  Blessedly, she was still numb from the impact. How else could she still be standing in front of him while she listened to him deliver his next words with contempt? “We had a transaction. You save your reputation, I get the horse. Don’t make it complicated.”

  The numbness was wearing off, and Le
xie felt pain hovering in the fringes. “But I broke it off,” she repeated stupidly, her brain like a wind-up mechanical toy sputtering on its last wind of power. “I broke it off,” she whispered, stricken.

  Nic laughed harshly. “He’ll take you back. I’ll bloody well make sure of it.” His blue eyes were hard. “After this farce is over, we are going our separate ways. If you’re − if you’re pregnant, please let me know.” He seemed about to say something but changed his mind. “Just let me know,” he said bleakly.

  He took her bag from her limp grasp and dug out the key to the house. Once he had led her inside, he quickly turned around and with a click of the door, was gone as if he never had been.

  * * *

  Nic had to stop by the side of the road for several minutes so he would not be endangering other motorists. He had to get a grip. When he was sure he had overridden the howling, insane need to pull back and return to Lexie, he allowed himself to drive back to his place.

  Inside the apartment, he whipped out his mobile and dialed an unlisted number.

  “Yes?” the grouchy and imperious voice on the other end said after the fourth ring.

  In his frame of mind, he forgot the time difference between L.A. and Seirenada. “It’s Nic Fernandez.”

  There was a beat of silence, and Nic could just imagine the Prince on the other side of the world frowning. “Is something the matter with my sister?” Alarm wiped any trace of sleep from the autocratic tone.

  “Lexie is safe,” Nic pacified the Prince immediately. “I apologize for alarming you.” Theia had given Nic the Prince’s private number in case of any emergency, and he couldn’t blame Stefan for reacting with undue concern. “But there is something I think you need to know.”

  “Please speak freely, especially if it concerns my sister.”

  “It’s about Rupert Butler.”

  “Of Butler Mining Inc.?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go on please.”

  “Butler is obsessed with the alledramite contract.” As Nic relayed the patron’s willingness to do anything to get his hands on the mineral that was critical to manufacturing flexible glass and his loathsome plans to blackmail the royal family, he felt his rage filling him up again.

  The Prince uttered a foreign word that required no translation. “I do not deal with unscrupulous characters. I have had Butler investigated, and I am troubled by reports of shady dealings and unfair trade practices. We are announcing our partnership with another mining company on Monday. It just took some time to persuade the Council that business relations with Butler, though it might be profitable at the start, will not be good for the image of Seirenada in the long run.”

  Nic took a deep, shuddering breath. “Lexie has to leave Los Angeles immediately. I don’t want her anywhere near me and Butler.”

  “I’ll take care of it. The Princess will leave for Seirenada as soon as possible.” The Prince paused before continuing, “Thank you for agreeing to this unusual arrangement, Mr. Fernandez. I have seen some of the articles and photos, and the media are convinced that it is indeed a romantic relationship and not a tawdry affair.” The hesitation on the other line was evident. “The fallout from her previous−” he floundered uncharacteristically, seeming to find the right term, “assignation with that bastard Wainwright had been hard on her. I didn’t want her to get hurt again.”

  As if embarrassed by the emotional revelation, the Prince resumed his brisk, impersonal tone. “I will have Pygmalion transported to your ranch in Argentina. My staff will get in touch with you to handle all the pertinent details.”

  “I don’t want Pygmalion,” Nic said tonelessly, flopping on a couch, thinking he wanted to get drunk after this conversation was over.

  “It is yours, Mr. Fernandez. I do not renege on a deal, and you have delivered your side of the bargain satisfactorily.” Stefan was back to his imperial-sounding self.

  “With all due respect, Your Highness, I will not repeat myself. Thank you, but I don’t want that bloody horse.” He wanted nothing to remind him of Lexie. Better to make the cut clean and not let the wanting fester.

  “I see,” the Prince responded in an odd tone.

  Nic could imagine the Prince’s eyebrows drawing together as he puzzled over his behavior.

  “I see,” Stefan repeated more slowly as if he had solved the puzzle. “Very well. I will recompense you in a manner I see fit.”

  Nic sighed. “No recompense whatsoever needed, Your Highness. Just keep Lexie safe.” This time, he was the one who had to repeat himself. “Just keep her safe.”

  * * *

  Hung over, sleep deprived, and in need of a bath, Nic decided he had to see Lexie one last time before she was gone from his life forever. He was that much of a masochist. He pulled on his jeans, a rumpled shirt, and a cap before making his way to Beverly Hills.

  A bottle of whiskey for company illuminated some thoughts that Nic had tried to shove down a do-not-go-there mental compartment. The remembered hurt in her eyes tortured him. The alcohol allowed him to admit that he absolutely could not fucking bear it if Lexie’s feelings for him changed once she got hold of what real life with him had to offer her. He wasn’t poor, but only polo allowed him access to move in the rarefied circles of the likes of the Duke of Walkden. Melissa’s betrayal over choosing a wealthier, more powerful man had hurt his pride. Losing the baby he had not even had the chance to see or hold had gutted him. Lexie falling out of love would finish him. So, Nic reasoned in his alcohol-addled brain, not being with her was key to his survival.

  He had to explain this to her, make her see. It was him, not her. Last night he purposely bungled things up so bad to make her reject him. But he had to let her know this thing with her meant the fucking world to him. He was going away because she already meant too much to him. It was like a fever in him, and the only thing that would break it was confessing his soul to her one first and last time. Selfish bastard that he was, he wanted to leave her with a bloody good impression of him. What a laugh, he thought bitterly. What a fucking laugh.

  It was half past one when he drove through the wrought-iron gate of the mansion. He had a throbbing headache, and the time it took security to let him through seemed longer than the five minutes it actually was as evinced by his wristwatch. He must have looked a fright on the CCTV camera and the bodyguards probably hadn’t recognized him at first.

  He hadn’t even rung the doorbell when the massive door was thrown open by a livid-looking Blair. The contrast to her laid-back character was such that Nic was taken aback by the change.

  “You conniving bastard!” she yelled hysterically, her eyes filled with rage. “And to think I encouraged her to be with you because I thought you were different.” Her chest was heaving. “And all along you were in cahoots with that snake Butler!”

  Nic gazed at Blair as if she was talking in Greek because she wasn’t making sense. Or maybe, he was just really, really knackered.

  “Don’t play innocent, Nic. You have such nerve showing your face here.” She flung several pieces of paper at him that he hadn’t noticed she had been holding, hitting him squarely on the chest. It fell to the ground. He crouched down to pick them up the same time Blair banged the door shut with a loud thud.

  He gazed at the photo for several seconds before processing everything. It was several photos of Lexie. The first one he saw was of her lying on a bed, asleep. She was turned to her side, her hands pillowing her hair, a hint of cleavage. Her hair was swept off her shoulders, revealing her bare back, the tattoo on her right shoulder blade and her dress rumpled on her hips. The second one was a closer view of her profile in slumber. And the third was a shot of her from the back, apparently taken from a party. Butler’s party, he swore as he recognized her dress from last night. The fourth photo had zoomed in on the tattoo on her back, leaving no doubt that the first two photos in the series had indeed been of the Princess.

  The cliché was true. Nic’s blood turned to ice. He shoved the door ope
n, which mercifully Blair had left unlocked, almost tripping on the suitcases on the foyer, and bounded up the grand staircase, trying to recall which bedroom was Lexie’s. Not bothering to knock, he found her in the third room down the left wing seated on the foot of the bed. She was staring out of the window, her shoulders hunched in a gray jumper. She turned to look in the direction of the door when he flung it open. Nic almost fell to his knees at the expression or lack thereof in her cat eyes. She gazed at him with deadened eyes and he noted her drawn, pale face. Nic wanted to howl and break something, but he would deal with his rage later. Right now, Lexie was all that mattered.

  “Rojita,” he rasped, his voice sounding rough from lack of sleep and alcohol.

  She flinched and averted her gaze to look out of the window again.

  “Rojita,” he again started, registering the panic in his voice, “por favor.” He took several steps farther into the room until he was standing a few feet away from her. “You must listen to me. I have no idea how they got these photos. ” He reached out to her, his hands loosening their grip on the offending photos, and they fluttered to the carpeted floor. She shrank away from his touch.

  She spoke for the first time, but her voice was devoid of inflection. She turned to stare at him blankly. “That night in Vegas. Who took those photos while I was sleeping?”

  “Lexie, let me explain−“

  Her voice trembled slightly. “Who took them? Just answer my question.”

  He closed his eyes briefly in frustration. “I did,” Nic admitted baldly. “I swear to God it was a spur of the moment thing. You were so beautiful I just had to−“

  “How much did Butler pay you for them?”