Dirty Rogue: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance(89)
Then, Claire gets hold of herself, her demeanor reverting to its usual unfailing professionalism. “In the meantime,” she chirps brightly, “I have had no word from Prince Alexander that our schedule should change. Shall we shop?”
“Oh—sure,” I agree, even as the photograph and headline spin endlessly in my mind. What’s going to happen now? What if this is the end of Alec and me? What if I’m forced to leave Saintland?
Claire and I head off down to the street, crossing over a few blocks to reach the main shopping district in Sainthall. We browse through a few shops, but I don’t see anything on the racks that strikes my fancy.
This situation with Alec and his family is out of control, and something has to change.
Should that something be me?
Why is this so agonizing?
Because you love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone.
The answer rings out crystal clear like a bell in my mind, its chime resonating all the way to my heart.
It’s true.
But how can I force myself to fit in with Alec’s family?
When we’re back out on the street, my mind still reeling, I notice that the people on the sidewalk are casting me sidelong glances as I pass them by. Some of them look at me with expressions of pity and empathy, but others look…angry.
Maybe this is what happens when you take a risk on being with someone, when you say yes to a man without giving it thorough and proper consideration.
“Claire,” I say, my voice low. “They’re all looking at me, aren’t they?”
“Yes,” she says, not bothering to lie. “No one knows your name yet, but everyone has seen your face in the paper or on their computer screen.”
My instinct is to raise my chin and not let them disrupt my day, but suddenly, I’m back in boarding school, struggling to fit in; I’m back in New York, looking in from the outside on my rich friends as they lead dream lives.
“You know,” I say lightly, “I’m in the mood for an afternoon in. Do you have a favorite movie, Claire?”
“Of course,” she says, her eyes sweeping the sidewalk around us as she links her arm through my elbow. “Let’s order in a fancy lunch and we can watch a movie together.”
“Perfect.”
We turn down the next street, hurrying back toward the Northern Crown. My relief at leaving the busy street leaves me feeling weak in the knees.
But weakness does me no good. I need to brace myself for what’s coming.
I’m in too deep with Alec. I can’t deny it any longer. I’m in love.
Chapter 22
Alec
The moment I see the goddamn photographer, I release hold of my brother’s jacket, turn on my heel, and leave him behind alone in the garden. As I go, I hear him suck in a deep breath. He’ll no doubt deal with the man—the mutual understanding between the media and the palace is that the grounds are off-limits without an express invitation. The paparazzi haven’t been so rabidly interested in our family since my mother’s death nearly twenty years ago, but even then…
Jessica.
Somehow, their attention is really focused on Jessica.
How could I have missed it?
Saintlanders are known for their polite ways, but how could they help but be intrigued by her. I wasn’t even able to resist her charms and damn it, I had gone to the United States for a couple of weeks to get my fill of women. One look at her, and my plan went up in flames.
Even the most polite Saintland citizens are going to have an opinion about the woman who caused two princes to come to blow.
It shouldn’t be surprising that Saintland wants to know everything there is to know about her. It’s only a matter of time before they dig up her name, and she becomes a pawn in the media…
One way or another, the palace is going to have to get ahead of this. Even as I contemplate our options, I wave the thought away dismissively. By the time my father realizes it’s in his best interests to at the very least welcome her to the country in an official capacity, it might be too late.
The problem now, I think as I make my way back to my own rooms and away from the prying eyes of my father’s staff, is that this news will be available within minutes. Saintland might be a goddamn monarchy, but we believe strongly in freedom of the press…even if they breached our standing agreement to cover the “story.” And if it’s on the news, Jessica will hear about it…
Phillip meets me at the door to my rooms, already in a tizzy.
“Your highness,” he says, jumping up from his desk near my fireplace and rushing toward me. “Your highness, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but…”
“Let me guess. The little incident in the courtyard is on the gossip sites already, soon to be covered on the live networks.”
His face flushes. “Yes, Prince Alexander.”
That bastard father of mine works fast. These things must have been much easier to spin in the days before the Internet.
I take a seat on my sofa, covering my eyes with my hands. My father and brother are infuriating, but our disagreements have never been dragged through the public square this badly before. As the adrenaline seeps from my body, I feel a flash of guilt over losing control like that. I should never have manhandled my brother. I usually can exercise or f*ck my frustrations away, but every comment about Jessica makes my blood boil.