A Prince of a Guy (Red Hot Royals #1)(33)

When she was gone, he looked right into one green and one blue eye and said, “You’re looking like quite a different woman than I started out with tonight. Princess.”

She closed her eyes, both of them, and looked so miserable, so hurt and vulnerable that he hurt, too. But he didn’t want to hurt. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t ever hurt again. So he found his anger and let it override any sympathy he might have had. “Don’t tell me. You’re suffering amnesia. You’ve forgotten your real name.”

Her eyes flew open. “I never forgot anything.”

“Except to mention it to me.”

“Oh, Sean.” In spite of the multicolors, her eyes softened. “I wanted to tell you.”

“Please.”

“I did! I was going to tell you tonight, after the party.”

“Before or after I made you come half a dozen times in the sand?”

She looked at the table, a flush working its way up her face. “I didn’t know we were going to do that.”

He jabbed a finger toward the paper. “How I didn’t see it is beyond me. So what were you doing here? Was I your latest charity case? Screw a lonely architect? Make his week? What?”

“No!” She shook her head. “God, Sean, it wasn’t like that.”

From the counter, there came a clatter of a tray being dropped. The three waitresses in the café, one of them theirs, were all on the other side of the Formica counter, unabashedly eavesdropping.

So much for secrecy.

Sean stood and tossed a few bills on the table.

“Sean? Where are you going?”

If he hadn’t known she was a liar, he might have believed the note of total panic in her voice. “Home,” he said wearily.

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

Princess Carlyne, or what he knew of her anyway, was a strong, independent, very capable woman. Carly Fortune wasn’t so different. Look at what she’d managed to do to his life in only a few weeks. “I think you can manage,” he said.

“I want to go home with you.”

“No.”

“You have my things.”

Well, hell. “Fine.” Purposefully distancing himself, he stood back to let her go first. He didn’t touch the small of her back as they walked out of the café he’d never forget. He didn’t so much as smile when she looked at him over her shoulder. He did hold open the car door, but he did it politely, and he didn’t kiss her as she got into the car, though she was close enough, and just an hour ago he would have.

She tried to stop him, put a hand on his arm. He quivered at her touch and shrugged her off.

“Sean—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Carly. Or should I say Princess?” Disgusted with both of them, he shoved the door closed.

They drove home in utter silence. His life would never be the same, and the pathetic thing was, he had no one to blame but himself.





11




MRS. TRYKOWSKI greeted them with a smile that faded as soon as she saw Sean’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Thank you for tonight,” he said, ignoring her question. He pulled some money out of his pocket, but the older woman shook her head, refusing to take it.

“I don’t want money for watching your darling niece.” Slowly, she divided a glance between Sean and Carlyne, who wanted to die of mortification because she knew exactly how she looked.

Like a circus performer.

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Trykowski said with a sigh. “The jig is up, huh, dear?”

Carlyne gaped at her. “You knew?”

“I have eyes in my head, don’t I?” Turning to Sean, she lifted a finger and wagged it in his face. “And if you search your heart, you’ll realize it doesn’t matter, Seany, my boy. She’s still a ten, and she’s still the one for you. So don’t you go doing something stupid now.”

“Wait. She’s the one who lied, and you’re getting mad at me?”

“You’re the male, aren’t you?” With a secret smile aimed at Carlyne, she left.

Leaving Carlyne alone with Sean. She was so cold. Cold and sad. Oh, and destroyed, let’s not forget that, because in one foolish move she’d blown her chance for anything and everything she’d ever wanted.

She started to shake, though whether it was the chill, her wet clothes or grief, she hadn’t a clue.

Sean took one look at her, one really long look from head to toe. It was a look that might have made her melt with longing only a couple of hours ago, except all that heat she’d come to know had turned to quiet fury.

“Go change,” he said roughly, then turned away.

Her clothes weighed a ton, but she hadn’t explained, they hadn’t talked. Without knowing how to make this right, she followed him.

He went into Melissa’s bedroom. Kneeling by the bed, he reached out and smoothed the little girl’s covers, then gently touched her cheek.

Carlyne couldn’t see his expression, but there was tenderness pouring from him. Tenderness and tension.

Tension she’d given him.

Standing, he brushed past her and moved out of the room.

She caught up with him in the hallway. “Sean.”