by Amelia Wilde
Too late, I realize that my mouth is still hanging open, so I snap it shut as Alec reaches the table, sliding smoothly into the seat next to me.
Christian has noticed and is already laughing at my stricken expression.
“I take it you’re impressed with your date for the evening, Jess?” I narrow my eyes at him, speechless, flabbergasted. At this, Christian’s laughter doubles and the rest of our group grins indulgently. When he finally gets ahold of himself, dabbing the corners of his eyes with his napkin, he reaches a hand across the table for Alec to shake.
“I’m sorry, Alec, that wasn’t polite. It’s just that my friend Jess here looked like she’d seen the ghost of a male model coming to be her date for the night.”
Alec cuts his eyes toward me, still smiling, an ember of excitement burning in the center of his green eyes. “Don’t be too hard on her. We’ve actually met before…once or twice.”
Christian’s eyes go wide, and he drops back into his seat more heavily than I think he intended. “Really?” He looks from me to Alec and back to me again.
I find my voice, and I can’t resist. I have to know.
“How the hell did you two meet each other?” I ask, my voice going high with my disbelief.
“At the gym,” Christian says immediately, and the three words set the wheels spinning in my mind. Christian’s gym is without a doubt the most expensive fitness club in New York City. He’s taken me as a guest a couple of times, and the place is no joke. If Alec is a member, he’s got some serious personal capital.
We have never once discussed money. Why would we? That’s in the same category as “last names” and “identifying details.”
Suddenly, I remember that I took him with me to the Bystander, and my cheeks go hot with shame before I can stop myself from caring who notices. It is absolutely pointless to make comparisons between the kinds of places I frequent when left to my own devices and the kinds of places where my friends have memberships. Holy shit. He’s probably got enough money to afford a membership at the Swan, and I took him to the Bystander like some kind of scraping-by grad student.
I turn toward him, shaking my head, taking him in, totally ignoring Christian’s eyes on us. I want to say something witty, something sarcastic, something to show him that he doesn’t have any effect on me, that this is just a hilarious coincidence.
But we both know it’s not.
Alec looks back into my eyes, his green irises glinting in the candlelight. Then he grins at me, a half-smile that sends a jolt of lust screaming down my spine and straight between my legs. He reaches out, takes my hand in his, and kisses the back of it like some kind of royal courtier from the movies, and breathes into my ear in that to-die-for accent I could listen to forever and dominates my dreams, “I think this is a sign, Jessica0607.”
The next morning I wake up slowly, becoming aware in increments of the bed, the covers, the room.
It’s still early. The light streaming through Alec’s bedroom windows is soft and yellow, indicating it’s another perfect midsummer morning.
It’s coming on the heels of a night so hot I’m surprised the sheets aren’t scorched.
I stretch, the sheets sliding over my bare skin. They feel soft—a high thread count, no doubt—and I relish the silky sensation against me.
Alec’s hand joins the sheets on the flat expanse of my stomach, and I turn my head to look into his face, flushed with sleep, eyes already glittering.
“I don’t think I can ignore this any longer,” I murmur, and he nods against his pillow.
“What do you think?” he asks, the cocky swagger filtering through his voice even now. “Should we trade last names? No…too dangerous.”
“Why?” I say, giggling. He’s just playing with me. I know, deep down, that we’re going to tell each other everything. “Do you have a dark and mysterious past?”
An expression I can’t place flashes across his face, and I wonder if I’ve hit a nerve.
But almost as fast as it disappeared, the smile is back. His hands are around my waist, pulling me, lifting me up so I’m straddling him, the perfection of his chest the perfect resting place for my hands.
“You start,” he says.
“Jessica Reeves.”
“Jessica Reeves.” He turns my name over in his mouth, tasting it. “I suppose it’s my turn. My full, unabridged name is—”
He’s interrupted by a furious pounding on the front door of the apartment.
Alec sits upright, startled, and I throw my arms around his neck. It can’t be later than 6:45. Who the hell is trying to break his door down at this hour?
Another barrage of knocks shatters the silence of the apartment. “Prince—” A voice shouts, but I must be mistaking the word. Then there’s another shout. “Alec! Alec! Open up. Now!”
Chapter Twelve
Alec
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I roll Jessica off me as gently as I can and launch myself out of bed as Nate resumes pounding on the door like some kind of madman. She stumbles out after me and starts searching for her clothes, our bodies colliding as I fumble for something, anything, I can wear to answer the door and tell Nate to get the hell out of here. I grasp her by the shoulders and press her down so she’s sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You stay here,” I say, leaning over to kiss her jawline. “I’ll tell whoever it is to go the hell away.”
She gives me a smile, but there’s a rustle of fabric as I move toward the door, pulling on a pair of boxers as I go.
What in God’s name could Nate possibly need at this hour?
I sprint through the apartment, a strange combination of fury and relief competing in my chest. I’m pissed at him for interrupting my idyllic moment, but when I opened my mouth to tell Jessica my name, I didn’t have anything prepared. Where was the conversation going to go? I hadn’t decided whether or not to lie to her and try to drag out this trip as long as possible—because after last night, it’s all I want in the world—or tell her the truth and break her heart?
Saved by the bodyguard. Screwed by the bodyguard. Can’t it ever be one or the other?
The moment I pull open the front door of the apartment, Nate barrels in, his face red. His phone is out of his pocket in an instant. He swipes the screen once, taps once, and then holds it to his cheek.
“I have him,” he says in a terse tone, then shoves it back into his pocket, turns back to turn the deadbolt on the door, and only then meets my eyes.
“What. The. Fuck?” I say to him, my voice deadly. “I’m fairly sure that I was clear about—”
“All that’s done, your highness.” He cuts me off, his voice clipped and tense. “We need to go. Right now. Do you need help with your things?”
I hold both hands up, shaking my head. “What are you talking about, Nate? There’s no reason to—”
He takes me by the elbow and yanks me over toward the picture window in the apartment’s living area. It looks out over the street below. “Hey!” I try to protest. “You don’t have to fucking manhandle—”
“Look.”
He jabs his fingers pointing down to the sidewalk below, and I see why he felt it necessary to lay hands on my royal person despite the possible penalties, the first of which would be me, backhanding his foolish head.
The sidewalk below us is crawling with media and paparazzi.
I look across at Nate, brow furrowed in confusion. It’s not the first time I’ve come across that kind of crowd—as royalty, we’re in front of cameras quite often—but those were always scheduled appearances in Saintland. This is something else. “What are they doing here?”
“They’re here for you.”
“You’re sure?” This city has to be crawling with people who are far more famous than I am. Doesn’t that actor Matt Damon live here?
“Yes. They’ve been trying to get in the lobby for an hour so they can get pictures of you with the girl.”
“The girl?”
“
Yes. Jessica.” Nate doesn’t have time for my irritation. “It appears that when you ended your date with Emmaline so hastily, you caused a bit of an international incident.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “Why in the fuck would she—”
“Listen to me, your highness. We can discuss the details later. What you need to know right now is that the gossip sites know you’re here. The regular media has also latched on to this story, and they’re all waiting outside. It’s becoming a more pressing security issue with every moment that passes. We. Have. To. Go.”
“I need a few minutes.”
“You can say goodbye to her from the car.”
“Do I need to repeat myself?” I spit at him, my confusion turning to anger.
“Your highness—”
“Your highness?”
We both spin around to see Jessica standing at the edge of the room, her back to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Her face is a mask of confusion as she looks from me to Nate, then back to me again.
“Your highness?” she repeats, her voice rising another octave.
Well, that’s blown wide open.
“Jess, I—”
She narrows her eyes, crosses her arms in front of her chest. “Is this some kind of joke? If it is, tell me right now.”
I step toward her, reaching for her, and she leans toward my touch. “It’s a long story.”
“Then tell it. All that in the club, no names—” She waves one hand in the air dismissively. “I think we both know that’s over now.” The look in her eyes is half-hopeful, half-terrified, and I realize she’s waiting for me to do the logical thing, the expected thing, and end it now.
“Your highness, we really have to—”
I silence Nate with the raise of a hand.
“I have to go, Jessica.”
Her shoulders sag just an inch before she straightens her back. She gives a sharp nod and her chin quivers slightly before I speak again.
“Come with me.”
She lets out a short burst of laughter and her forehead wrinkles with disbelief. “Go with you where?”
I suck in a deep breath. There’s no goddamn way she’s going to agree to this. She probably hasn’t even heard of Saintland, unlike the media hounds outside.
“Listen,” I begin, keeping my voice even despite the rising pressure I feel to get out of here. “I know this may sound a little farfetched to you, but in my home country of Saintland, which occupies an area of land formerly—” I stop myself. “In Saintland, I am second in line to the throne.
My heart is in my throat. All I know is that in this moment I can’t leave things unfinished with her. If I go back to Saintland now, I may never get another opportunity like this, and even if I do, a woman like Jessica will have found a replacement by then. I can’t find adequate words to convey to her how badly I need to continue this conversation with her, until we find out where what we have together leads…or how badly I need one more night with her in my bed.
“If you come with me now, we can sort all of this out. And if we decide…no matter what we decide, you’re free to come back whenever you’d like. But right now I absolutely must go.”
She looks into my eyes, and the room is so still that I can feel my heart thudding in my chest.
Her lips part.
I prepare for a crushing blow. My heart feels like it’s about to combust.
She takes one deep breath, and then gives her answer.
“I’ll come with you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jessica
The sheer adrenaline fueling our actions over the next couple of hours makes it nearly impossible for me to think. We spend them hustling through the building in last night’s clothes, racing across town in a town car driven at breakneck speeds by Alec’s bodyguard and driver Nate, hastily scrambling up to my apartment to find an outfit suitable for air travel—“Just get a few things, Jessica—we can buy anything you need in Saintland”—, making several phone calls to the Saintland equivalent of the State Department to sort out a last-minute Visa for me, and sprinting through customs to catch the only outgoing flight of the day.
It’s not until we reach cruising altitude, Alec holding my hand in first class, that I catch my breath.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says into my hair, and I lean my head against his shoulder, breathing in his masculine scent that I’ve come to love.
I’m quiet as he flips through the in-flight movie selections, but my mind is racing.
Holy shit, holy shit. What have I done?
Start at the beginning, I tell myself sternly. You’ve bought yourself some time to think, and that time is right now.
Memories of the first time I saw Alec flicker in front of my eyes. His out-of-this-world body, the confidence he exudes in every movement, the way he zeroed in on me from across the room and hasn’t looked away since. More than that, the way I felt is what has made such an impact. It doesn’t make sense—we’re still almost total strangers—but I recognized something in him almost immediately that makes my heart race, filling with unspoken promises and possibilities for the future.
And we’re not total strangers, are we? What we have is on another level, and I’m almost certain that the way we play off each other in bed, driving each other wilder the more we’re together, unable to quench our need for one another, is a reflection of something deeper than lust.
Maybe I’m kidding myself.
Maybe I’ve just made a huge mistake. I’ve up and followed a guy who claims to be a prince, and could have any woman he wants, onto a plane bound for a country halfway around the world. It’s like I’m some kind of modern-day Cinderella, only I’m not really in need of rescue. I have a nice life in New York—good friends, a steady job…
But something was missing, I hear that pesky truth-sayer singing to me in the back of my mind. Something was missing, and you know it.
Something will definitely be missing now if this doesn’t work out. People will think I’m missing! It’s not like I called in sick…
I bolt upright in my seat with a gasp.
“What is it?” asks Alec—Prince Alec, I remind myself—gripping my hand tighter, eyes wide with concern.
“I didn’t call in to work. I didn’t show up today!” I shriek in panic. “I’ll lose my job!”
Alec responds by laughing indulgently. “I’m sure you could get another job inside a week.”
It’s true—I could probably rely on Carolyn’s good graces until I found another job. She can afford the rent. Then again, I haven’t told her about me jetting off to some random European country with a prince yet, either.
Jesus. This is probably the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve upended my life more than once. Only each of those times, I had at least a hint of a plan in mind. This time? I have nothing.
I pull my purse out from where it’s stored neatly under the seat in front of us and remove my phone from the middle compartment. The flight’s in-flight Wi-Fi makes it easy for me to send a few messages. I start with Carolyn.
I'm heading to Europe on an impromptu vacation. Not sure when I'll be back. Don't worry. Be in touch soon…
The scenery greeting us when we step out of the airport in Saintland takes my breath away.
The airport itself was small and meticulously maintained, a far cry from the massive scale and overall dinginess of LaGuardia. Instead of being surrounded by skyscrapers, bustling streets with honking taxis and throngs of people scurrying here and there, it’s surrounded by something straight out of a goddamned storybook. A sprawling town filled with Eastern European–style buildings encircled by lush rolling green hills and flower-dotted valleys, mothers and children strolling shining streets, and, no joke, a palace overlooking it all from the highest point.
We look up to see Nate in the driver’s seat of a shiny black town car, navigating his way across a couple lanes of traffic to pull up in front of us at the airport exit door. Several small Saintl
and flags lining the hood and bumper are flapping in the wind. Alec waits as Nate shifts the car into park and then comes around to where we are waiting to open the doors. Nate patiently stands at attention, waiting for Alec to give the signal. I slide into the back seat first, followed immediately by Alec, and then Nate closes the door behind him before he puts what little luggage we brought with us into the trunk.
I realize that Alec and Nate’s interaction seems very formal, and is a far cry from the way they bickered behind closed doors in New York. I’m beginning to realize that everything is going to be different here…but how much different, I don’t know.
It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out, though. As Nate pulls the car away from the airport, I notice that several other sleek black and official-looking vehicles seem to be falling into line behind us.
Then I hear the wailing sirens.
Alec groans. “Nate, you asshole, did you tell the palace that we were returning?”
Nate doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Yes, your highness, since I would like to secure my employment in your household. Also, your father was keen on ensuring that your trip to New York appeared to be an officially sanctioned trip.”
“Oh, and a royal escort through the capitol is going to do that?”
“He seems to think so.”
Nate screws up his mouth, and I wonder exactly what I’ve gotten myself into.
Alec and I talked during the flight when the sky above the Atlantic was dark. He told me his full name is Alexander Charles Caldwell, and he is second in line to the throne of Saintland after his older brother, Marcus. It’s only been the three of them since his mother died of breast cancer when he was ten years old. I also got the impression from the way he spoke about his dad and brother that they hadn’t exactly approved of his vacation to the United States.
After Alec finished outlining his life story, I told him some of mine. How I wouldn’t take no for an answer about boarding school. How my closest friends are rich, but no matter how many years I spend in their world, I never quite feel like I belong. How I was thinking of leaving New York for a fresh start.