Return of the Prince Page 11

  Lies. My hand itched to touch her again. I wanted another damn fix. I wasn't sure why I couldn't get it right with her. There were questions I wanted to ask. Like how is your life? Are you okay? Why didn’t you reply to my letters? But instead, every word that came out was wrong. I was antagonistic.

  You want her.

  I didn't want to fight with her.

  Oh yeah, like you can be friends? When you still remember vividly exactly how she tastes?

  "You know what, we don't even need to have this conversation. None of this matters. It's fine."

  “Fuck. Why are you like this?”

  Her green eyes flashed. "We don't have to do this anymore, okay? I have completed my mission. I kept you safe for the one week I was designated to guard you. Don't get dead on your own from now on, okay?"

  I don't know what made me ask, but I did want to know. "Why did you come?"

  Her eyes went wide. "Why did you call me that night?"

  I cursed under my breath. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?" I opened my mouth. Shut it. Opened it again, trying to think fast, to make up some explanation.

  Finally, something akin to the truth tumbled out. "I'd felt the heat of that bullet. It whizzed right by my goddamn ear. And when all was said and done, the one person I could think of to call was you."

  It was her turn to do the gapey thing. Her mouth opened. Closed. Her eyes shimmered. "I don't even know what that means."

  "Fuck. Neither do I."

  "You barely said a word."

  "There are a million words to say and a million not to. You were the only one I could think of to call. Every part of me was delusional and thought you would give a damn."

  Her russet brows frowned and then lifted. "I don't understand—"

  I shook my head. "You're not supposed to understand. I shouldn't have called."

  "You know, at some point, you should probably explain all this to me. You called me, didn't say anything, and then you were pissed off that I showed up to save your ass. Then, you kissed me. Do you know what an invasion that was? You’re fucking engaged. I'm done. Have a nice life, Your Royal Highness."

  And then she marched out the door.

  I reached for her automatically, but she was faster than I was. The girl I had known would never have slipped my grasp. But she wasn't that girl. She was a grown woman, and she’d had enough. Rightfully so. She wasn't my Ariel anymore. She was somebody entirely different, and I needed to remember that.

  ELEVEN

  ARIEL…

  MY HANDS WEREN’T CLAMMY.

  As a matter of fact, I felt mostly nothing. No flood of adrenaline-fueled anticipation. No jitters. No nothing. And it wasn't because I'd wasted it all on the first date with Ian. It was because I was pissed.

  The stupid prince and his stupid kiss. He’d dominated my thought space for more than enough time. I’d been almost scot-free today too. I wasn’t supposed to see him. So what if I’d tapped into the palace feeds to make sure I didn’t see him? And still, I’d run right into him. It was as if he had a homing beacon on me.

  As I marched up the Spanish stairs of Faustino Restaurant, I tried to cool my temper. For the last two hours, I’d tried everything to get my mind on my future and not my irritating past. I’d had a quick run earlier, then a shower, but that hadn’t helped. I’d made it a point to take extra time with my makeup and my hair, to try to get in the right frame of mind. I’d worn a gray sheath dress that dipped dangerously low that Penny had made me buy last year.

  I looked pretty. I felt pretty. But my irritation hadn't worn off. God, what the hell was his problem? I just wanted to be left alone. I hadn't even wanted to go to stupid Barcelona, but Sebastian had called. So honor and duty and all that. And then I’d gotten the kiss of my life for all my efforts.

  If I’d never gone, my life wouldn't be like this. I would be sitting in my office, minding my own business, happy to date Ian.

  But oh no, now I was thinking about Tristan and what he could possibly be up to and why he was trying to torment me. Decidedly, not focusing on my date.

  You’d better get it together.

  Barring our previous date when I’d listened to stupid Roone, this was my first real date in over a year. One that wasn't a hookup scenario with someone who couldn’t possibly be a viable option. Ian was a grown up. He had his own business just like me. And he was cute. Very cute. And he had a totally hot bod. Hello, former athlete.

  A soccer player just like your ex.

  No. I would not compare them because I didn't need to compare them. I was on a date with Ian. Tristan, I wanted to kill. So, best not to think about murder on my date because that is something I would think about. And that would ruin everything.

  I walked up to the hostess and she gave me a broad smile. "Lady Scott, your date is waiting for you."

  I blinked at her. "I beg your pardon?"

  She merely grinned at me. "Bright red hair and no-nonsense march. Ian Tellman very clearly described you. He said you'd be walking through with bright, flaming-red hair just past your shoulders with a no-nonsense attitude and the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. He also said if I could coax a smile out of you, it would light up the room."

  I nervously smiled at that. "Oh, I, um. Okay, I guess. That's fine."

  She grinned. “He was right about the smile. Lucky girl. He is completely smitten.” She wore a Marc Jacobs wrap around dress, somehow draped in all the right places, that made her tits look amazing. She also looked comfortable in her own skin.

  I was double-sided taped into my dress, with the most uncomfortable corset bra I’d ever worn in my life holding everything in position. But somehow, I didn't look nearly as elegant as she did, and I was distinctly uncomfortable. I’d feel a hell of a lot better with all my weapons strapped to me, but I was pretty sure it was frowned upon to bring weapons on a date.

  The inkling of self-doubt tried to flare into life, a little bud of a flower. I cut out the light and cut off its water supply. No. Ian had asked me out. He was the one who was lucky, so I was going to go on this date and I was going to enjoy myself and forget all about the person I didn't even want.

  Tristan. His name is Tristan. His Royal Highness.

  Otherwise known as fucktard.

  As I approached the corner table by the window, Ian stood with a smile. The charcoal gray suit he wore was impeccable and complimented my heather grey dress. His smile was wide, and that suit hugged his shoulders in an absolutely tailored fit. He was handsome. Every woman in the restaurant turned to stare, whether it was to see who he was meeting or to watch the man himself I wasn’t sure, but they were definitely looking. "Ian, this is beautiful. You didn't have to do all this."

  He shook his head. "Of course, I did. When you want a beautiful woman, you need to impress her first."

  "Thank you." Luckily that was the word that came out and not, 'Hey, you could basically impress me if you showed me your handgun skills.’ Because what guy wants to hear that?

  "Oh, I see you already ordered wine."

  "Yes, a delightful Rosé."

  I forced a smile on my lips and bit my tongue to not tell him I didn't like Rosé, or wine at all, really. Instead, I smiled and nodded my head. "Oh, thank you so much. That was so thoughtful."

  You mean presumptuous.

  I was out of practice. That was all. This was just me being out of practice. He was being sweet.

  Or you're still thinking about Tristan.

  Nope, out of practice.

  "So sorry it has taken so long for us to get back together. Work just sort of spiraled."

  "Of course, I mean you're a King’s Knight after all. I can't expect you to be at my beck and call. Even though I’d very much like that."

  I frowned. I hadn’t told him I was a knight. "How did you even know? It's not like Sebastian had some kind of public announcement made."

  His brows lifted. "Um, you didn't know?"

  "Didn't know what?"

  He chuckled so
ftly. "You should probably ask your employer, but you're on the website. All of the Knights are named. There was a press release."

  I groaned. "Christ. That would probably explain the rush of calls. Everyone was asking for appointments."

  He grinned. "Well, everyone wants the best. And if Royal Elite is good enough for the royal household, obviously it's good enough for Joe Smith."

  I sighed. "I wish someone had given me a heads-up."

  "Well, like you said, you've been working on assignment. So maybe you missed it."

  "Yeah, but Penny— Uh, you know what, Penny probably didn't even know. Sometimes she has her head in the clouds if she's painting, so—" I made a mental note to kill her later.

  "And by Penny, you mean the queen?"

  I grinned. "Sorry, we've been friends since we were kids."

  "Well, that's a good friend to have."

  I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about the palace or my friends. Thank you for taking me out today. I'm glad we’re getting to do this. Tell me more about you."

  At least that much was true. He was interesting. He’d led a fantastic life. He had been an athlete all his life, playing first professionally for Manchester United, then being traded to Barcelona until he was injured so early in his career. Then came the surgeries and physical therapy, and he did try to go back to the game. First with Chelsea, and then Arsenal, but he had never been the same. Eventually, he'd been forced to retire. Not that I'd stalked him or anything. It was probably best not to mention I knew all that.

  "I’m boring. But, Lady Ariel, you are endlessly fascinating. Last time we didn't really get to talk much before I was called away, so why don't you tell me why you're in—"

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, just as I started talking. Ian's gaze flickered away from mine. From behind me I heard, "Ian? Is that you?"

  I knew that voice. It had been grating on me for the last several days.

  Liar.

  Okay fine, it had been weaving into my dreams, taunting me, coaxing me, willing me to fall again, like an idiot.

  My back stiffened. Ian's gaze flickered right back to me, and he smiled broadly. "Ariel, I'm sorry, we'll have to continue that part of the conversation in a moment. I'd like you to meet a friend of mine."

  Ian stood, and with my stomach tying into knots, I turned. Sure enough, there was the bane of my existence, and Ella was with him. She wore vermillion red that skimmed her body like satiny milk and cut off right at her knees and made her look spectacular. Granted she was also five foot ten, so most things looked spectacular on her. She smiled wanly at me. "Oh, Ariel. Funny seeing you again."

  "Oh yeah, funny," I muttered.

  His Royal Highness, Prince Tristan, turned to me. "Ariel, you didn't mention your date was with my good friend Ian."

  Good friend? Oh yes, Ian had just said that. But then I hadn't been really paying attention to what Ian said. Why hadn’t he mentioned he knew the royal family though?

  Because you just said you didn’t want to talk about the royals.

  I shook my head. "Ian, I didn't realize you were acquainted with the royal family."

  "Of course, I am. Tristan here is an old mate. We trained together in the under-18s. A couple of years later, he replaced me."

  Tristan winced at that. "That's not how it was exactly."

  Ian waved a hand. "I know. I'm the one who jacked up my own knee. Come on, would you and Ella like to join us for a drink?"

  My head snapped to Ian, and I scowled at him. "What? I'm sure His Royal Highness and Ella want to have a quiet romantic date. They've had an eventful couple of weeks."

  Tristan met my gaze, mischief lighting up his eyes. I'd seen that look a million times, usually before he'd chase me and I’d let myself be caught. And then he'd kiss me deeply, and I would lose all train of thought and only think about his touch.

  Steady on.

  Tristan’s voice was smoky when he said, "Actually, yeah. Why don't Ella and I join you for a drink?"

  I gawked at him. "Excuse me?"

  Ian smiled. "Yes, I'd love to catch up. Ariel and I will continue our date later."

  This wasn’t happening. Had Ian really invited Tristan on our date? Why would he do that?

  Time to go.

  But I couldn’t go. I had to stick this charade out. I didn’t want Tristan thinking he could make me run. Two fresh plate settings were brought to the table. While Ian asked Ella something, Tristan leaned closer and dropped his voice so only I could hear it. "Gosh, imagine running into you here."

  "You knew."

  He grinned. "Well, it's the best restaurant on the island. And well, you're the kind of woman who deserves the best. And I asked Penny."

  I scowled at him. First, I was going to kill my best friend. Second, I was going to kill him. I just want to slaughter the whole family. Never mind that I'd been sworn to serve and protect them. "Why are you doing this?"

  His gaze met mine. "Because I don't like the idea of you going on a date."

  "Even with your old mate?"

  "Especially with my old mate, or with anyone else."

  "You should probably tell your fiancée that."

  He frowned and snapped back to attention.

  I deliberately turned my gaze to Ian, and then I did the thing. The thing where I leaned over, placed my hand on his knee, and slid it up his thigh. Oh yeah, I had his attention now. His gaze stayed on me the rest of the night. With every bump of Tristan's knee, Ian squeezed my hand and smiled, deliberately pulling me into every conversation. Before I knew it, drinks turned into dinner which turned into desert, and my date was thoroughly hijacked.

  At one point during the desert course, Ella excused herself go to the bathroom. When she came back, she whispered something to Tristan. And then she gave us both that chilly smile. "I'm so sorry. I have to catch an early flight first thing. There has been an emergency I need to deal with."

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask her, 'What, a modeling emergency?' But I kept that to myself. I was the one in the wrong. I had kissed her fiancé. I didn’t get to have any sort of feelings about her other than guilt. I was not the heroine of our triangle.

  Tristan gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then she floated away with her gazelle-like gait. How did she do that? And then it was just Tristan, Ian and I at the table. I could have sworn Tristan deliberately knocked his knee into mine again, then brushed the back of his fingers along my thigh. The shock of contact sent a shiver up my spine, and I jerked, gritting my teeth.

  "Well, isn't this cozy? Just the three of us." Ian laughed and turned to Tristan. "Just so you know, I'm the one taking her home."

  Tristan laughed. "Oh, I'm not here to interfere."

  Asshole.

  But if I was being truthful, I wasn't too fond of Ian at the moment either. He'd invited those two on our date. All I’d wanted to do was move on, and he’d invited my past to have dinner with us.

  Cut him some slack. He didn’t know.

  When the evening wound to a close, Ian walked me to my car, leaving Tristan inside with his Royal Guard, Trevor. He took my hand. "I'm sorry about that."

  I shrugged. "No, it's fine." I wanted to pull my hand back, but then I figured it might be rude.

  "Look, I'll make it up to you, okay? I just hadn't seen him in a while, and there he was just walking right up to us. I didn't think I could say no."

  "I get it, but maybe this isn't a good idea."

  He didn’t let go of my hand. "No, wait. Come on." He tugged my hand, pulled me closer, and looped his hands loosely on my waist. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? One more chance? I think the third times a charm. We can really make it work the third time."

  I frowned. "I don’t know, Ian. Maybe this is too much work. You seem cool and interesting, but—"

  “If you want to run, make sure it’s because you really don't want to get to know me better, not because you’re afraid.”

  Busted.

  I chewed my bottom lip. “I’m not
afraid.” Seriously, I needed to get better at lying.

  "Please, I'm not taking no for an answer, because technically, this wasn't our second date. We were just some friends having dinner. So, second date. You already agreed to it."

  A smile tugged at my lips. "Fast talker."

  He shrugged. "I'm a sports agent. Of course, I'm a fast talker."

  I just really wanted to say no, but the fact that it annoyed Tristan made it that much more appealing. "Fine, but honestly, maybe we just keep it low key."

  "I can do low key. I just really want this to work. The night was stolen, and that was my fault. One more chance. Please."

  "Yeah, okay," I nodded.

  He leaned forward, and I couldn't explain the flare of panic as I thought he was going to kiss me. I held myself perfectly still, like an animal that knows it's about to be eaten, or the prey lying in wait.

  But he diverted his head just in time to kiss me on the cheek. His gaze locked on mine when he whispered, "I'm going to earn that kiss."

  I tilted my chin up. "You're welcome to try."

  Tristan…

  I'LL ADMIT, that was a twat move.

  Penny had been oh so helpful in telling me exactly where Ariel was going to be, and I had moved quickly, changing our dinner plans to make sure that we were able to crash.

  Ella hadn't been too pleased when we walked in and I pointed out Ariel and Ian. She’d given me that grim, determined, flat line of her lips that told me she was all the way pissed off. But she'd gone along.

  You are a dick.

  I knew it. Still though, my normal sense of rationality was completely gone when it came to Ariel and the possibility of her dating. Let alone who she was dating. Ian Tellman. He was a mate. We’d played together in the under-18s in the UK. He’d come from a different background than I did for sure. He didn't go to Eton or to any of those other fancy prep schools. He lived a hardscrabble life. And the guy was pure talent. Then he'd been injured.

  And you took over his life.

  It wasn't like it was my fault. It wasn't like I could control it. I'd had no say. I'd gotten a call that I had an opportunity to play. What was I supposed to do? Turn it down?