The Making of a Princess (15 page)

“Perfect.” Yvette gave a delighted laugh. And Xavier and Philippe indulged her by clinking glasses.

Music swelled through the room and Jean Claude and Bernadette took to the floor to start the dancing. When other couples joined them, Xavier held his hand out to her and inclined his head in invitation.

Placing her hand in his, she followed him to the dance floor and flowed into his arms. Time flew after that as the music moved from one piece to the next and she danced with one charming partner after another—including her father for a few brief minutes, and for which she received a fierce glare of disapproval from Carlo.

Xavier seemed content to watch her, taking to the floor only a few times. Once with his mother and a couple of times with women who were obviously friends of his mother’s. When Elayna asked him, he politely declined.

Seeing the exchange, Amanda smiled brightly at her current partner, and pleading the need for some air, excused herself. Once free of him, she threaded her way back to Xavier, who immediately opened his arms and moved them into a slow waltz.

Yes. She sighed and relaxed against him, letting him lead them through the crush. For a few minutes she just enjoyed the moment. The lilting music, the ambiance, the solid feel of his arms around her.

Had there ever been a more perfect moment?

Except it wasn’t perfect was it, if he was only here out of a sense of duty?

Enough already. She was tired of wondering, tired of almost being with him. She needed to know how he really felt, and not just what was expected of him.

Lifting her head, she met his intense gaze and hope swelled within her. Surely that much heat must have some feeling behind it.

“Who would you be with tonight, if you weren’t required to put on this act with me?”

His dark brows lowered into a frown. “I am not now, nor have I ever put on an act when I was with you. And I would not wish to be here with anyone but you.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Who did you come with last year?”

“I came alone last year.” He gave a half smile. “I was a great hit with my mother’s friends.”

“It’s very sweet of you to dance with them. I’m sure it’s the highlight of their night.”

“Hmm.” He swung her around, tightening his arm around her waist and pulling her tighter to him. “Does this interest in my past activities mean you’ve forgiven me?”

She tilted her head to gaze up at him. “Why do you want my forgiveness when you’ve chosen not to fight for any future together?”

“I have been rethinking my decision. Having you so close this week but not being able to really talk to you, share your laughter, has shredded my heart every minute of every day.”

The rawness of his voice ripped right through any lingering doubts. She threaded her fingers in the crisp softness of his hair and pulled his head down to hers. With a hoarse groan he closed the distance between them, claiming her mouth as if starved for the taste of her.

And she savored his ardor because it had been forever since she felt the press of his lips, the sweep of his tongue, since she drank in the very essence of him. But after a moment she pulled back. It wasn’t going to be that easy.

“So I should forgive you? But you were just doing your job, fulfilling your duty to your Prince and your country?”

“Yes. But I was clumsy about it and my actions hurt you. For this I am sorry.”

“Because I was too much temptation for you?”

He lifted a dark eyebrow and his gaze roved over her cleavage, her bare shoulders, her hair, before he looked her square in the eyes. She expected a playful lob, but he gave her total capitulation.

“Yes,” he confessed. “You stole my ability to think clearly.”

Oh she liked that. This confrontation may not be as bad as she thought. Still, he deserved a little torture for the heartache she suffered while he was being stubborn.

“So you’re saying it was my fault?”

“Yes.”

She lifted both brows at him.

“I mean, no.” He quickly backpedalled. “Of course not.”

When she smiled brightly, he narrowed stern eyes at her. “You are playing with me.”

She blinked innocent eyes. “Would I do that?”

“Yes. I do believe you have a bit of a vixen in you.” He tightened his grip on her waist, hauling her closer and bowing his head to whisper in her ear, “I like it.”

And she liked the way his breath tickled her skin. Angling her head up, she nipped at his jaw then kissed it better. He made a noise deep in his throat and then his mouth was on hers, claiming her as his in a kiss just short of savage.

With a hum of approval she surrendered to his unleashed passion, standing pliant in the wake of his ravishing demand. Giving so he didn’t have to take, receiving such intense pleasure, she trembled with the need for more.

The press of his body against hers revealed his desire equaled hers. He finally lifted his head enough to drag his mouth to her ear. “Have mercy.”

She gave him a closed-mouth smile, took his hand and headed for the door.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

A
MANDA
STOOD
WITH
Xavier saying their goodbyes to Yvette and Philippe when suddenly trumpets blared and into the following silence two names were announced, Philippe and Xavier. She noticed the LeDuc family seemed surprised but happy.

With a squeeze of her hand, Xavier left her to join his father to walk to the front of the room where marble steps led to a raised section where her father and Bernadette sat in elaborate thrones. The night took on even more of a fairytale aspect as she followed an excited Yvette in the men’s wake.

“What’s going on?” she asked, once the two of them stood ringside at the bottom of the stairs where the men stood shoulder to shoulder. Xavier was by far the youngest of the group.

“The men are being knighted,” Yvette whispered. “It is the highest honor a guard can achieve. He must be proficient with three weapons, have acquired ten citations, and have the recommendation of three superior officers. Many years we have no candidates. I have never known of a father and son being knighted in the same ceremony.” Tears spilled from her brown eyes. “I am so proud.”

A gentleman with a chest full of medals and a sleeve full of stripes stepped forward and recited the list of Philippe’s and Xavier’s accomplishments, which took some time but was thankfully done in English as the many visiting dignitaries made it the most common language.

Finally her father rose and came forward. A page followed with a large sword balanced on a velvet pillow. Once Jean Claude reached center stage Philippe and Xavier climbed the stairs and knelt in front of him.

Pride swelled in Amanda. Xavier had worked so hard for this. For a few moments she’d feared her father might have interfered by preempting Xavier into the honor because of her. Xavier would hate that, as would she. But as his qualifications were announced there was no doubt he’d earned this prestigious acknowledgement all on his own.

And with that realization came another. She had to let her anger go. How could she blame him for acting like a soldier when that was exactly what he was? He may have harbored secret hopes for another occupation at one time, but that only inspired him to dig deeper, try harder, push himself more.

She got it now. The fact he allowed the man inside to rear his head at all was a huge compliment. That’s what his mother had been trying to tell her.

No wonder he found it hard to communicate his feelings to her. He had no experience dealing with them. The one relationship that even came close was due to a family connection from his youth.

Well, he was just going to have to suck it up, because she needed to hear how he felt. From him.

With great ceremony her father tapped Xavier on the right shoulder and spoke of his great skill with weapons, then he tapped the left shoulder and commended him on his strong heart and loyalty, last he tapped him on the head and reminded Xavier of his eternal duty to crown and country. The same was repeated with Philippe, and then Jean Claude bid them to rise as Sir Xavier and Sir Philippe, Royal Knights of Pasadonia.

Amanda clapped so hard her hands stung, and once the music started again, making it obvious the ceremony was over, she rushed forward to claim her man.

When he saw her, he moved to meet her halfway, pulling her into his arms and stepping into the dance in one smooth move.

“Congratulations.” She threw her arms around his neck. “Sir Xavier.”

* * *

“I don’t forgive you.” Lying sated in Xavier’s arms, Amanda felt his body go completely still.

She’d never answered his question and now she rolled over to prop herself on his chest and look down into his amber eyes. “Because there is nothing to forgive. I finally got it tonight, Sir Xavier. Being a guard isn’t something you do, it’s who you are. You couldn’t have acted any differently than you did.”

“I have thought about what you said on the plane, and though I have never considered another direction in my life, it is possible an interest in engineering caused me to over-compensate in my dedication to duty. It was never a problem until you.” He relaxed back against the mattress and lifted a hand to gently brush her hair away from her face. “I should have handled it better.”

“I’m glad you didn’t, because that might mean we wouldn’t have had the time together that we did. And I wouldn’t give up those memories for anything.”

He crunched up to give her a kiss. “Me, neither. I promise to always be honest with you. By your definition.”

She smiled at that. “I love you.”

Again he froze, his chest not even lifting with air. A hundred years passed. And then his fingers tunneled through her hair and he pulled her over him to plunder her mouth with exquisite tenderness. And as her heart still raced and her chest heaved for breath, she heard the mumbled words, “I love you.”

Smiling, she slid into sleep. He loved her. The rest they could figure out tomorrow.

* * *

Xavier was gone when Amanda woke in the morning, but he’d left a note on his pillow inviting her to lunch with him and his family.

A glance at the clock showed the time was later than she thought. If she wanted to play with the twins before meeting Xavier, she’d have to rush.

Carlo had left a voice message for her to come see him before doing anything. She shook her head. Not without Xavier, so that would have to wait.

She dressed in cream linen pants and a silk sweater and hurried out to the courtyard. She waved to the nanny who gave her an odd look. She wondered about that but the twins spotted her. The boys were thrilled to see her and clamored all over her. And she learned the lesson of wearing light clothes around little boys.

Deciding the clothes were replaceable but her brothers’ kisses weren’t, she finished playing and gave them hugs before returning to her room to change.

As she was running late, she texted Xavier she’d meet him in the front drive to the palace, which was a closer walk from her rooms than to the garage.

In the front foyer she hitched her purse over her shoulder and waved at the guards standing sentinel.

“Miss.” One of the guards moved to intercept her. “There is a lot of press out front. You may want to use another exit.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She gave him a self-deprecating smile. “I’m nobody.”

He did not return her smile but simply stated, “I will step out with you.”

“That’s not necessary. I’m just meeting Commandant LeDuc in the curve.”

“I will escort you.”

“Thank you.” Giving in to his determination, she gracefully allowed him to walk her outside.

They were about ten feet from the door when the cry went out.

“Amanda Carn! It’s her.” A crowd of bodies rushed her.

“Amanda, what is your purpose for being in Pasadonia?”

“Mademoiselle!”

“Amanda!”

“How do you know the Prince?”

“Vous êtes la maitresse du Prince?”

Bombarded with questions in a variety of languages, only half of which she understood, she froze. Had someone just asked if she was Jean Claude’s mistress? This was horrible.

The guard immediately put himself between her and the pack. Over his shoulder he instructed her to head back to the door.

She tried, shuffling sideways, but the pack surged closer and she shrank back. Her stomach burned with dread. Fear weighted her down.

This was bad.

“Over here, Amanda!”

“Mademoiselle Carn, what is your relationship with the Prince?”

This was worse, far worse, than tripping around campus worried about staining her grandparents’ reputations. Yes, her grandparents’ careers were important and could have suffered from any inappropriate actions on her part, but a campus was small potatoes next to a country and a professor’s reputation just didn’t weigh in at the international level. She could do real damage to her father’s credibility.

Just the thought made the blood run cold in her veins.

And it didn’t end there. Xavier and his family would suffer from their association with her. This was a nightmare.

“Amanda.”

“Mademoiselle.”

“Amanda.”

Amanda made no effort to respond. Overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of the attack, her mind just kept looping why? Another guard arrived and helped to hold back the horde, but she was so distraught and disoriented she stood frozen in place.

“Amanda, are you the Prince’s daughter?”

“Ms. Carn! This way. Is the Prince your papa?”

She flinched at the questions. How had they found out? She must have made a mistake. The guards urged her to move, but her mind raced. What had she done? Where? When?

And then Xavier was there, wrapping a hard arm around her waist, lifting her against his chest, and hustling her inside. Even as she buried her face against him, more guards arrived, moving outside to remove the press, still calling questions through the door.

“Are you okay? You are shaking.”

“They know,” she said into his chest. She’d never been so happy for his strength than in that moment. “How can they know? I must have done something wrong.”

“Shh.” He soothed a hand over her hair. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Mademoiselle Carn.” Carlo’s voice boomed through the foyer. “You will come with me.”

She cringed, and Xavier’s arms tightened around her. He put himself between her and the Social Secretary. She loved him so much she realized she needed to pull it together for him. And for her father. The news was out. It was time to deal with it.

Pulling free of Xavier’s comforting embrace, she lifted her chin and faced Carlo.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

Amanda’s distress ate at Xavier from his stance in the corner. He felt helpless as Carlo ranted about a picture of Amanda and Jean Claude dancing at the ball, appearing on an internet blog with a post from an anonymous source asking who the upstart American was and what was her relationship to the Prince of Pasadonia? Surely for anyone to get that close to the Prince she had to be his mistress or a long lost daughter.

He went on to state the whole incident with the press could have been avoided if she had come to see him as he requested.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized for the third time. “But if you had given me some indication of what you needed to see me about, I could have made an informed decision.”

“There should be no decision. I am the Social Secretary. I do not make frivolous summons.”

Her chin tipped up. “And I’m an American citizen not subject to summons.”

Good for her. Xavier welcomed the anger in her eyes. She’d deal better with a little fire in her blood. He felt comfortable enough to text the security office and request they trace the anonymous poster.

Carlo seemed more interested in crucifying Amanda than in finding who instigated the problem. Elayna, who stood quietly to the left of Carlo’s desk, had contributed nothing so far. Her avid expression reflected no compassion for Amanda.

“You are a guest in our country.” Carlo raked Xavier with a disapproving glance. “You have overstepped yourself on more than one occasion. Now you have created a scandal that has embarrassed the Prince. Your actions are unacceptable.”

Xavier stepped forward. “Your tone is unacceptable.”

“Keep out of this, LeDuc, or I will have you removed from this office. You should be more concerned with how this affects the Prince than this woman.”

“The Prince should be here.” Xavier pulled his phone out again and pushed a button.

“The Prince has been apprised of the situation,” Carlo said quickly. “I am handling this.”

“Jean Claude,” Xavier said into the phone. “You are needed in Carlo’s office. It’s about Amanda.” He flipped the phone closed. “He will be here in a few minutes.”

“That was unnecessary.” Carlo was livid. “The remedy to this is simple. Once Miss Carn is gone, the scandal will leave with her.”

“That is not an acceptable resolution,” Xavier stated.

“He’s right, Xavier,” Amanda spoke up. “If my presence is causing trouble for Jean Claude, I need to leave.”

“We will let Jean Claude decide what should be done.”

“Damn you, LeDuc. I could have handled this.”

“By banishing her?” Xavier mocked him. “You should be thanking me. I just saved you from yourself. Have you made any effort to find who posted to the blog?” he demanded. “It had to be someone at the ball. You should be focusing your ire in that direction, not on Amanda.”

The door swung open and Jean Claude marched inside, followed by Bernadette.

“Carlo,” Jean Claude addressed his Social Secretary. “What is going on here?”

Carlo explained the situation, making it clear his earlier claim of doing so had been false.

“My dear, are you okay?” Jean Claude’s first concern was for his daughter.

“Yes,” Amanda assured him. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Bernadette came forward to take her hand. “I know how traumatic it is to be besieged by the press.”

Jean Claude moved the second visitor chair over so Bernadette could sit next to Amanda.

“What have you found out about the blog poster?” Jean Claude followed the same thought process as Xavier. “I will not tolerate a guest of mine insulting me in this manner. It should be a simple matter for Security to trace.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” Carlo cleared his throat. “I will follow up immediately. I felt it best to deal with Miss Carn first. The allegations of the press are ridiculous but the attention you have given her has obviously been misconstrued. It is best if she cuts her visit short.”

“That is not your call.”

“Jean Claude.” Bernadette’s tone urged the Prince to calm himself. “I believe it is time to announce who Amanda is. It is the only thing that will hush the speculations.”

“You are right, as usual.” Jean Claude claimed his wife’s hand and kissed her knuckles. He flicked his gaze to Carlo. “Put together a press conference for this afternoon.”

“I do not understand,” the Social Secretary protested. “What will you be announcing?”

“Amanda is my daughter.”

“Your daughter!” Carlo’s voice held the shrillness of a damp cat. “Why was I not told of this? I am the Social Secretary. I could have managed this with some dignity.”