The Making of a Princess (10 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

A
MANDA
FROZE
.
Her reprieve was over.

“Of course.” Calli glanced at Amanda. “I will prepare your tea as soon as the Capitan allows.”

“Thank you.” She watched the woman leave rather than look at Xavier. “Amanda.” He held out a hand. “It is time to take our seats.”

Ignoring his gesture, she walked past without touching him. In the lounge, she resumed her seat and strapped her seat belt.

He settled in the chair across from her and clicked in.

“Are you a nervous flier?” Xavier asked.

She realized her hands had found their perch, clenched tightly around the ends of the armrests.

“I don’t know,” she confessed reluctantly. Though tempted to prevaricate rather than show weakness, she chose the truth. Best to keep her own integrity intact. “I’ve never flown before.”

“In that case, we shall endeavor to make it a memorable flight.”

She made a conscious effort to relax, but her body was working independently of her mind and refused to give up its hold on her seat.

“The plane is memorable enough,” she said with a glance around the elegantly appointed cabin. “I’ll settle for uneventful for the flight.”

“A point well made.” He stretched his legs out and crossed them at the ankle, the very picture of a man at ease.

The soles of his shoes ended mere inches from her black suede boots. She refused to acknowledge the comfort the nearness brought her. Instead she looked out her window and tensed as the plane began to move. She watched, fascinated, as they slowly made their way to the runway and then came to a stop, waiting their turn.

“Our Capitan is Rod Varela.” Xavier chose that moment to begin outlining the details of the trip, including the names of the crew, the flight path, refueling points, time changes and meal options. He talked right through the rush of acceleration and the weightlessness of liftoff.

She looked out again to see San Francisco whizzing by, growing smaller as they rose higher. Enthralled, she sent Xavier an excited glance. He smiled back, then looked out his own window. Biting her lip, she kept her gaze on the tiny pinpoints of lights until San Francisco disappeared into darkness.

Calli appeared with Amanda’s tea. The tray included a cup for Xavier and a small a plate of cookies and a selection of crackers, cheese, and fruit. Calli wished them enjoyment and returned to her galley domain.

“Thank you,” she said when they were alone. Because of course he’d done it on purpose, overwhelming her with details to distract her from being nervous during takeoff. Between his chatter and the newness of the experience she forgot her anxiety, allowing her to enjoy the moment.

He inclined his head. “I am glad you are enjoying yourself.”

“I’ll admit it was iffy there at the beginning.” She drew circles over the creamy leather of her armrest. She was still angry at him, but his kindness touched her, loosening her reserve. “I keep expecting to wake up at any moment.”

He set his tea aside and leaned forward in his chair. His amber eyes searched her features forcing her gaze down.

“I am sure the speed of events has added to the sense of unreality.”

“Yes, I barely feel I’ve had time to think.”

“I am sorry. I wish it could have been different, that you could have had more time. However, the Prince has a very full schedule. He has only these two weeks before he attends a diplomatic conference.”

Her life seemed insubstantial next to the Prince’s. But it was her life, modest as it may be, and in two weeks she’d be coming back to it. This little trip was just a blip in the bigger scheme of things.

He reached out, his hand hovering over hers in an obvious desire to touch, but she stiffened and he pulled back.

“I know what you have sacrificed for this opportunity.”

She frowned and looked at him through her lashes. “What do you mean?” He couldn’t possibly know what she’d given up to meet her father.

“I know about your grandmother’s ultimatum. I know you may lose your job.”

She shrank back. Why would he continue to keep tabs on her? Was that what she had to look forward to in the future? Would being the Prince’s daughter result in the loss of all privacy? She shook her head. That was one sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make.

“Michelle made sure I knew. She promised me much pain if I hurt you.”

She swallowed against a lump in her throat. That was so like Michelle.

“It’s just a job.” She dismissed as if she didn’t love her position at the museum. “And they’ll take me back if they haven’t replaced me before my return.”

Her boss hadn’t been thrilled with her request for a two-week vacation. She’d only been with the museum for a year and wouldn’t earn a second week for another year. But he would have worked with her.

It was the Director who feared her family emergency might leak into more time and leave them understaffed. She authorized one week’s vacation, after which time they would advertise the position. If they didn’t hire anyone before Amanda returned, she could have her job back, less a week without pay.

“I can make a call,” he offered.

“No thank you.” She wanted no favors from him. “I thought you might be spying on me again.”

He scowled at the accusation, then sighed and settled back in his chair obviously making himself comfortable for the coming discussion.

“I would not call it spying,” he said.

She lifted a skeptical brow.

“I withheld a few things, but I have not lied to you Amanda, and I never will. Yes, I received a slim report of your vital statistics and I had one of my men follow you home the night I met you, but that is the extent of our spying. Except—” He cleared his throat.

“Except?” she prompted.

“I did follow you the day I revealed your father’s identity. You were so upset I was worried for you.”

She stared at him, torn between hurt, anger, exasperation, and embarrassment. “Your definitions for lying and spying differ from mine. Withholding information I have the right to know is lying. Pretending emotions you don’t feel is lying. Following me anywhere for any reason is spying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew he wanted to issue a protest, to defend his actions, but he simply nodded.

“Noted.”

His capitulation just added to the hurt.

If he felt something for her, why didn’t he tell her? Why didn’t he fight for her? The answer was obvious. Because he cared more for his career than he did for her.

Calli reappeared to take their dinner order. Amanda had no appetite, but Calli waited so patiently that she finally requested grilled chicken with steamed vegetables. Xavier ordered a steak.

Silence fell, upon Calli’s retreat.

Their relationship, sham that it may be, was over. No good could be gained by rehashing faulty memories of the unfortunate affair.

“Was anything you told me true?” she challenged him. “The stories about your family, your career? Any of it?”

“You ask me this when I just told you I have not lied to you?” His brusque tone inferred a strong emotion, but was it anger at her daring to question him or hurt at not being taken at his word?

One of the things she cherished most about their relationship was being able to talk to him. His compassion and wisdom, the warmth he shared from his family experiences helped her reconcile some issues.

It was because of him that she’d fought for her mother’s diaries, that she’d been able to learn who her mother was beyond her grandmother’s revelations. His steadiness and belief in Amanda gave her the strength to stand up for herself, to truly exert her independence from her grandparents.

And because of him she may have severed her connection to the only family she’d ever known.

No, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t to blame for her grandmother’s ultimatum, or for the fact her father was a prince in the habit of making royal summons.

But he was here, and he wasn’t without fault.

She’d trusted him with her inner most secrets. She’d given herself to him body and soul. Learning she’d been nothing more to him than the next assignment cut her to the core.

He hadn’t lied? Please.

His betrayal put her grandmother’s antics to shame. At least she never pretended an affection she didn’t feel.

“And I just told you how you have,” she reminded him, crossing her arms in front of herself, a shield against further pain. “I don’t know what to believe.”

He pushed to his feet and began to pace the small space. Clearly agitated, he appeared to be struggling with himself.

“
Mon Dieu.
I am a soldier, Amanda. What I am is what you see. I am not such a good actor to be faking things I do not feel. The problem is I was not always the soldier with you. And that was wrong. I should not have allowed our acquaintance to become personal.”

“Acquaintance?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“You twist my words because you are angry. Can you not see it is my duty to protect you? I cannot do so effectively if I am engaged emotionally. It is best for our closer association to end.”

“And now I’m an associate.” She bowed her head. She’d been right; no good was coming from rehashing the past. What had meant so much to her was disintegrating right before her eyes.

Suddenly he was there lifting her chin with gentle fingers, cupping her face in his hands.

“You are my l—” He stopped, closing his eyes on the searing emotions roiling within him. When he reopened them his amber eyes were more focused but still intense. “You are special. I cannot risk you.”

“What does that mean, Xavier?” She pulled away from his touch and immediately missed it. Nothing new, she’d been missing his touch, his nearness, him ever since he revealed the truth four days ago. “Are you saying what was between us was real, because it doesn’t feel like it.”

“It was very real.” He sank into the seat beside her.

Too close, and not close enough. How was it possible to be so angry at him and still long for him at the same time?

Objection, her psyche protested. Asked and answered. She’d put the question to Michelle two days ago. Her friend had shrugged and said, “It can only be love.” Amanda hadn’t liked the answer then and she didn’t like it now.

“But wrong.”

“Yes.”

“You regret the time we spent together.” How many ways did he have to say the words for her to finally get the picture? Why did she persist in tearing herself up by questioning him?

“No.” The denial held a bite. “Never.”

And there was her answer. Because he was as clear as mud. He said one thing, but his manner inferred another, and now he contradicted himself.

“Isn’t that what wrong means?” she whispered.

“No. This is not the right term. Perhaps my English is not so good.”

“Your English is excellent. Just talk to me, Xavier.” She half turned toward him, her arm braced on the armrest, almost but not quite touching his.

He sighed and moved his arm the scant half inch so his arm touched hers. And when he turned his head, it was her Xavier who looked at her.

“It is not meant to be. I should never have let my personal feelings rule my actions. I noticed you at the opening, and I was attracted to your soft beauty long before you stood beneath the portrait and I saw the resemblance. Of course I knew my duty. I would have kept my distance, but you asked me out. I convinced myself that the chance of your being related to the Prince was unlikely, but perhaps it would be a good thing to keep close just in case. Surely a cup of coffee could not hurt.”

She remembered thinking the same thing.

“You were enchanting. My orders to engage you and learn what you knew were a blessing and a curse. It was just what I wanted to do, but for the wrong reason. After that—” his jaw clenched tightly “—the soldier stepped aside and the man took over. Our time together felt so natural. I gave in to feelings I should not have allowed.”

“Because duty comes first.” It was a statement squeezed through a tight throat. He’d told her, hadn’t he, that a woman had never come between him and his career.

“Yes.”

Something in the way he said the one word reminded Amanda of a tension she’d noted before, the first time he’d talked about his family’s service.

“You didn’t want to be a soldier,” she guessed.

“What?” His shields immediately went up, closing off all show of emotion. “I am a soldier.”

His reaction only made her more certain of her conclusion. “Yes, but it’s not what you would have chosen for yourself. You wanted to be an engineer. You’re only a soldier because it’s the way of your family. For six generations a son has joined the militia. Did you ever tell your parents you didn’t want to serve?”

“There was nothing to tell. I have always known I would serve. I have done my duty with pride.”

“This explains so much,” she muttered, speaking her thoughts aloud. “No wonder duty is so important to you. It’s what drives you. Duty to your family put you in a career you didn’t want, which only compounded your need to excel as a soldier, increasing your sense of duty to your country and your Prince.”

“Amanda, I do not know where this is coming from.” There was helplessness in his voice unlike anything she’d ever heard. “Being a soldier is all I have ever known.”

She just shook her head.

He didn’t even see it, the vicious circle motivated by love, fueled by pride, and propelled by accomplishment. Being a soldier wasn’t what he would have chosen, but that only made him more determined to succeed, to be the best.

And their relationship was a casualty of his devotion.

He slid his fingers under hers. “I am sorry.”

She should pull back, but this time she couldn’t. She believed him. The ache in his voice revealed a depth of emotion his stoic features kept hidden. “I will cherish my memories of our time together.”

“So what all this means is it was real, but now it’s over.”

“Yes.”

“Because I have royal blood and you are a royal guard?”

“It is the way of our people,” he said simply.

She frowned and then shook her head. Building a relationship with her father wouldn’t work if she didn’t keep an open mind. But at the same time, she couldn’t help feeling resentment against archaic customs designed to keep her from the man she loved.