I stared at the ring on my left hand with an expression of horror.
“I didn’t get away scot free,” I said. “I stole his ring! Oh God, Jo, I stole from the prince!”
I jumped up from the couch and started pacing the room, pulling the ring off like it was burning me. Jo got up and tried to stop me, but when I started to pace there was no stopping me.
“I’m going to get deported,” I said. “They’re going to catch me, arrest me, and deport me, and everyone’s going to think I’m some sort of nasty thief. I didn’t mean to take it.” I looked to the door like somebody might knock it down at any moment. “What am I going to do, Jo?”
Jo leaned against the wall, smirking. I stopped and glared at her.
“This is serious, Jo!”
“No, this is awesome,” she corrected. “You’re serious. Too serious.” She pushed off from the wall and came to stand in front of me, taking the ring and examining it.
“Looks expensive.” She grinned. “You got to have sex with a prince and you got free jewelry out of it. That’s a win-win as far as I’m concerned.”
“Of course you’d think that,” I said, snatching the band back. “It didn’t happen to you.”
Her smile softened and she rubbed my shoulder affectionately. “I know that what happened with Michael sucked and it’s stuck with you, but you’ve got to relax a little. Whatever happens is going to happen. Worrying about it won’t help.”
The last thing I wanted to think about when I was already stressed to high hell was my asshole ex. It was hard enough that I still had to see him on set every day.
“I’m going to bed,” I announced. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for the evening. I just want to get some sleep.”
Jo nodded. “Fair enough. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
I doubted that.
I bid Jo goodnight and went into my room, changing out of my gown into a pair of comfy pjs and hopping into bed. Since I didn’t know what else to do with it, I placed the ring on my bedside table.
I turned on my side in bed and stared at it.
Tonight was amazing. Spectacular. I wished I could live it over and over again, even with the way it ended. I hadn’t had sex like that since...well, ever. I hadn’t connected with someone like that in a long time either. That was one of the things that made this all so hard.
I wished Alex wasn’t a prince. Specifically, I wished he wasn’t a prince with a playboy reputation and an intense media following.
It was just my luck to have one of the best nights of my life ruined because the man I’d felt a profound connection to was the least appropriate match for me on the planet.
I decided I would try to see the events of the evening in a good light, not a bad one. Jo was right in her way. Apart from the ring, which I would deal with another time, I’d gotten away scot free. Alexander had no idea who I was, where I lived, anything. I got to have an amazing night and I could just take it at face value.
I just wished it wouldn’t have to be just that. I hadn’t felt that amazing for a long time, and knowing that I wouldn’t again for a long time was a tough pill to swallow. I’d had a taste of the prince and now I craved him.
I just hoped the cravings wouldn’t last.
Chapter 5
Alexander
The door slammed closed. I swore.
I couldn’t run back out into the party until my mask was on, so I hurriedly affixed it and then bolted after Kat. Could I still call her Kat if the illusion was broken? Now wasn’t the time to wonder.
I jogged down the stairs, scouring the crowd of people heading toward the door. I didn’t recognize the familiar crown of dark hair anywhere. Where was she?
I pushed my way onto the front steps and stood, breathless, scanning the faces of everyone out there smoking or getting into cabs. Nothing. She was gone.
Teddy’s face swam into my vision, mouth lolling open in a drunken smile. His mask, red with little devil horns that were typically Teddy, was askew, just like his bow tie.
“There’s my little princeling,” Teddy crooned, hooking his arm through mine and dragging me down the steps. “I don’t know about you, but tonight has been a resounding success for me. I’ve got at least two new clients and three new boyfriends.”
I chuckled bitterly. “I’ve got a wife, but I can’t find her anywhere.”
We stopped at the bottom of the steps and Teddy lit up a smoke, sucking in with a lazy smile. “A wife, eh? Didn’t figure you for the marrying type.”
“Me neither.”
“What happened?”
I frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Well I’ve got just the thing to lift your spirits.” He patted me heartily on the shoulder. “We’re going to an after party. Real hush-hush scene, won’t even need the mask. There’s a couple girls going to be there who are very keen to meet you.” He winked, as if his meaning was in any way covert.
I shook my head. “Not tonight, Teddy. I just want to go home.”
“Home? That’s dull of you.”
“Married life will do that to a man.”
Teddy let out a barking laugh. He took another drag of his smoke.
“If you must go back to your gilded cage, fly free my birdie,” he said. “I’ll be around the next time you need someone to break you out.”
He hailed a cab and got inside, then was gone. I got in the next one, giving the driver directions to a place not far from my “gilded cage”.
Teddy loathed everything to do with the class system, including the concept of royalty. He was a new age bohemian, the son of an earl who threw off the shackles of family duty and went out into the world to cut hair and make his own way. He was blind to his own hypocrisy, but I didn’t fault him for it. If Teddy wanted to pretend he had no use for a title while still using his status and that of his best friend to get into the best clubs and parties, that was fine with me. I knew his aversion to class came more from his family’s aversion to his sexuality than anything else, and he was a good man. If he wanted to have the best of both worlds, more power to him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t so easy for me.
I snuck back into the palace without incident, going straight up to my room. I wouldn’t risk being caught tonight. Not when I’d already been exposed once.
Hank pounced on me when I came through the door, excitedly sniffling up all the strange scents on my clothes. I scratched behind his ears and we got into bed.
Hank fell asleep right away, snoring like he always did. It was like sleeping next to a cement mixer.
I didn’t fall asleep. I couldn’t. I lay awake for hours, thinking about the beautiful girl who’d enchanted me all evening. The beautiful girl who’d run from me.
Who was she? If my mask hadn’t come off, if I’d had some time to explain, maybe I would know right now. Maybe I would get to see her again. As it stood, however, my Cinderella left no slipper. I had no idea how I would find her in the churning pool of the city’s elite, and I doubted she would be reaching out to me anytime soon.
I had to find her, though. I needed to see her again. She might have been shocked by my identity, but I knew she felt everything that happened between us tonight. It was special. It was right.
I woke early in the morning. Rather, Sir Hank woke me. I took him out for a pee and headed to the staff kitchen for a cup of tea. I wasn’t the only one who had such an idea.
“Do you ever do anything but drink tea and watch your show?” I asked Nana, who was perched at her spot at the end of the island.
It had always been her spot. It was where she stood when we made cookies, where she sat with me over a warm cup of hot chocolate as a kid and talked me through the heartbreak of my mom’s death.
Mom had a spot too, one nobody sat in to this day. Right next to Nana. If ever I couldn’t find Mom when I was little, I’d come down here and find her and Nana engrossed in conversation, steaming mugs in their hands. I could almost see them there still.
“I do
a great deal other than drinking tea and watching my show,” Nana said impetuously. “Not that you’d know. You’re never around.”
“Words hurt, Nana.” I flicked on the kettle and rested against the counter, waiting for it to boil.
She continued staring at her laptop screen. Nana liked to focus on one thing at a time, and conversation never ranked high early in the morning.
I found a mug and a tea bag, and was rooting through the fridge for a piece of ham to offer Hank when I heard it.
A voice. Not just any voice—her voice.
It was Kat. She wasn’t using her American accent, but there was no mistaking it. I’d heard her voice enough last night to recognize it anywhere.
I dropped the slice of ham and Hank launched himself at it. Nana didn’t notice my alarm until I rounded the island and leaned close to the screen, pointing at the figure of a beautiful woman. Kat.
“Who’s that?”
Nana looked at me skeptically. “The actress?”
“Yes.”
“Tamara Callahan,” she said.
I knew it. My heart fluttered and a shot of adrenaline kicked me in the head. The kettle boiled but I ignored it, entranced by the action on screen.
“Tell me more about this show,” I said.
Nana chuckled. “Oh, now you want to talk about my show.”
“Nana. Please.”
“It’s called Princess of Nowhere,” she told me. “It’s set just after the dissolution of the Austrian nobility in 1919, and Miss Callahan plays an Austrian princess raised here who finds herself suddenly a commoner. They’re filming the second season now if I’m not mistaken.”
That made sense why Tamara would be in the country. I couldn’t believe my stroke of luck.
“Nana,” I said, kissing her on the top of the head. “You are the sun to my sky.”
She grunted. “Sure.”
I whistled to get Hank’s attention. “Come on, Hank.”
He trotted after me, keeping pace as I sped down the hall toward the stairs, then up to my apartment. My head was spinning at the realization that there was a way for me to see Kat again.
Even if she was called Tamara in real life, she would always be Kat to me. And now I knew how to find her.
I rounded a corner and spotted Edward ahead of me. I had only a second to consider turning around and taking another route to my apartment before he spotted me.
“Alex!” he said, striding toward me. “I came to look for you but you weren’t in.”
For once, I had a good reason. “I was having tea with Nana downstairs,” I said, even though in all the excitement I’d forgotten to make the tea.
Edward adjusted his shirt cuffs when he reached me, something he did when he had to have an uncomfortable conversation. Given the fact that Edward hadn’t relaxed since he first learned to stand, it was a wonder he wasn’t constantly adjusting his cuffs.
“Can this wait, Edward?” I asked. “I’m in the middle of something.”
“I thought you were just having tea with Nana?”
“Well, yes, but I’ve got something to do now.”
“What is it?” Suspicion shadowed his face.
It pissed me off. I could understand why Edward had little to no faith in me, but it still rankled every time he showed it.
I shoved my hands in my pockets. “None of your business.”
He nearly fought me on it, but he must’ve wanted me in a good mood for whatever he was about to say. He adopted a tight smile.
“Whatever floats your boat, as they say.”
The idiom sounded strange coming from him.
He continued. “I just wanted to come by and have a chat with you about the visit from Svetlana Nyberg next week.”
“What’s there to talk about?” I asked.
The cuff-fiddling increased in ferocity. “I suppose it was more of a reminder than anything else. I’d like to ensure your presence.”
It wasn’t princely to indulge in an eye roll, but I nearly did.
“I suppose it would be rather difficult to marry me off to the Swedish princess if I wasn’t there for her to inspect the goods,” I quipped.
“Don’t be so crass,” Edward complained. “It would be a fine match, but nobody’s marrying anybody off to anybody.”
“All the same, dear brother, the veil you’ve drawn over the matchmaking attempt is rather thin.” I sighed. “I’ll be there, Eddie. Don’t you worry. I’m not marrying the girl though, especially since she’s royalty. Or have you conveniently forgotten that I have no desire to marry at my level?”
His eye twitched. “I have not forgotten, but I admit I still don’t understand.”
“You may never. But that’s your problem, not mine.” I smiled. “Anything else?”
Edward shook his head. “Not anything pressing. I am having breakfast with Father this morning though, if you care to join.”
I chuckled. “I do not. And I don’t think Father would appreciate me being there either. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your bonding time.”
I hadn’t meant to bring up such a contentious issue so casually, especially when I had other places to be, but it slipped out. To avoid listening to another of Edward’s boring sermons about royal responsibility and the like, I interrupted him with a question of my own.
“Have you had time to look over that proposal I sent you?” I asked.
Edward, caught between wanting to defend my father and knowing it was ultimately useless, twiddled his cufflinks and accepted my change in topic.
“Not yet. I haven’t had time.”
“Don’t leave it too long, will you?” I said, genuinely disappointed.
Edward nodded. “I won’t.”
“Right. Well, I’m off.” I patted my leg and Hank and I started off again toward my apartment. I heard Edward’s footsteps heading in the other direction.
Once in my apartment, I wished I’d thought to make that cup of tea. I didn’t know who to call first, or if there was anybody I could call. All I knew was I had to do whatever I could to find Tamara without the press catching wind of it.
I had one thing on my side—I was a prince, and nobody ever told me no.
Chapter 6
Tamara
“Tamara, they’re ready for you,” Gina, one of the set assistants, called into my trailer.
I stared into the mirror one last time as my makeup artist Trish finished the last few dabs of powder on my cheeks. I looked beautiful.
I rose and headed to the costume trailer. The troublesome piece of metal I’d been carrying around for two days might as well have been an anvil in my pocket. Every time I started to feel calm, like everything was okay, I felt it there and remembered that I’d stolen the ring from a prince I had raunchy sex with and I was jumpy all over again. I got up extra early this morning to add another two miles to my morning run, hoping that would syphon out some of my anxiety, but even that didn’t help.
What could I do? Mail it? Drop it off on the front step of the palace? Train a pigeon to deliver it through the prince’s window?
The girls in the costume trailer fitted me in a luxurious gown, and by the time I got on set I looked the part of a princess to a tee.
I’d been looking forward to this scene since I first got the script. My character, Amelia, just learned that her aunt and uncle, who have been missing for years, were killed in a Bolshevik uprising. They were the last members of her family, of her dynasty, and now she feels completely alone. She goes to the attic and takes one of her old ball gowns out of storage, donning it before dancing around the room, crying for everything she’s lost. We just finished shooting the lead up, and now was time for the main scene—the heart-wrenching goodbye waltz to the world she used to know.
One of the sets had been converted into the attic and after costuming I found my way there, where the director was waiting. And so was my ex, Michael Redding.
That was the part of the scene I looked forward to least. Amelia is interru
pted by her working-class love interest, played by Michael, who then comforts her in her time of need. For all his faults, Michael was an exceptional actor, and I knew we’d do well. I just wished it didn’t have to be him.
Michael wasn’t classically good looking, per se, but there was a reason he had legions of fangirls following his every move on social media. Though his lips were just a little too thin and his brow a little too severe, his tall frame and piercing muddy brown eyes easily won over everyone in his path. Me included.
The director, Yesha, greeted me with a smile. “Tamara, lovely. You look perfect. We’re all ready to go, so take your mark.”
My thick skirts whispered across the creaking floorboards. In the corner of the room was a distressed steamer trunk and a full-length mirror, and I made my way over to them.
I took a few deep breaths.
Nobody was watching me. No Yesha. No Michael. Just me and Amelia. It was what I told myself every time the camera rolled, and it worked every time. Once I was settled in character, I pretended the rest of the world didn’t exist.
“Okay, ready?” Yesha called.
I nodded.
And we began.
I’d barely made it through the first minute when I heard the first tittering among the spectators. Yesha didn’t call cut straightaway so I didn’t dare look at the crew to see what the deal was. The whispers grew into outright chatter and Yesha, normally the first to start yelling when things weren’t going her way, sounded friendly when she called for us to cut.
I immediately looked toward the camera. The disturbance wasn’t hard to find.
My heart dropped like a stone and I let out a gasp.
Prince Alexander, brilliantly handsome in a black tailored suit and just a little bit of mess in his hair, grinned at me. He was standing near Yesha, and turned to her briefly.
They exchanged a few words, then Yesha said, “Okay, everyone. We’re going to take a short break. Back in fifteen.”
Nobody dispersed. Everyone was much too interested in the appearance of a prince on set. Including Michael. They all gawked as Alexander approached me.
Was I about to be arrested? Right here? Or did he just want to embarrass me and teach me a lesson?
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