Page 11 of Royal Trouble
Before she could second guess herself, she deleted the email.
He still hadn’t bothered to use her correct name and expected her to come crawling back to him.
She opened her browser and brought upThe Daily Scoop. It took forever, but when the page finally loaded, her own smiling face stared back at her. Her stomach dropped.
In the picture, she stood beside the rental car, toe-to-toe with Xander. He stared at her with raw intensity, his hands fisted in the lapels of the jacket as he wrapped it around her. It was a surprisingly flattering shot, and she gave silent thanks he’d helped her cover the T&A spilling out of the fuchsia nightmare.
But still, this was…not good.
She read the article twice, trying to reassure herself. The tabloid didn’t have her name and the picture was innocuous enough, although there was rampant speculation she could be the spare’s latest conquest.
Everly sucked in a deep breath and blew it out through her nose.
If she kept her head down, there would be a new headline tomorrow, probably one of Xander with another mysterious woman. That’s how these things worked. She knew it as well as anyone.
The key was to not engage.
Which would be easy enough, since—
The phone vibrated in her hand, and an unknown number flashed on the screen.
She considered not answering, but after the third ring, she pressed the accept button. If it was a recruiter, she couldn’t afford to miss a job opportunity. “Hello?”
“Everly.”
Her eyes drifted shut at the sound of Xander’s honeyed voice. “How did you get this number?”
He chuckled, the low rumble carrying across the line with enough clarity to make her traitorous hormones sit up and take notice. “I’m a prince with unlimited resources. It wasn’t exactly a challenge.”
She sighed heavily, letting him know she wasn’t amused. “What do you want, Xander?”
“You.”
Her breath caught. Surely she’d misheard. “Excuse me?”
“You still owe me a drink,” Xander said, amusement coloring his words. She could easily picture him smirking on the other end of the line, and the knowledge set her blood thrumming.
Because she wanted to throttle him, not because it was sexy as hell.
Okay, notonlybecause of that.
“So, what do you say?” he asked. “Are you free tonight?”
“I told you, I’m washing my hair.” Why was he being so insistent? If he had any sense of self-preservation, he’d stay as far away from her as possible and quit tempting her with insider access. She could already see how easy it would be to get close to him, if only temporarily. All she had to do was play hard to get and Xander would be eating out of the palm of her hand.
It seemed the prince wasn’t accustomed to hearing the word “no,” and the more she resisted his advances, the more determined he became to persuade her.
“Honestly, Everly. Have you no sense of adventure? We’ve only been briefly reacquainted, and I can already tell you need to live a little.”
She laughed in spite of herself. If nothing else, she had to give him credit for being true to himself and going after what he wanted, despite the terrible press. “No offense, but I make it a rule not to take advice from men with permanent placement on the front page of the tabloids.”
“Says the woman who destroyed my thirty-day streak of low-profile living,” he growled. “If I hadn’t helped you, I’d be on day thirty-one, not trying to explain to His Majesty why I was putting my jacket on a woman who wasn’t my date.”
Guilt clawed at her, tearing open old wounds. At least Xander had a father who cared. It was more than she could say. Oh, her mom had done her best to fill the roles of mother and father—and she’d done a damn fine job—but it wasn’t the same. And it sure as hell hadn’t erased the knowledge that her father didn’t want her.
Everly shook off the memories. “Yes, well, it’s normal to suffer relapses during recovery. Look at the bright side. You get another fresh start.”
“I don’t want a fresh start. I want the date you promised me.”