Page 11 of Some Like It Scandalous (Going Royal #2)

He wasn’t Charlie anymore. He was everything noble and regal—he’d become the prince.

Her Charlie was a prince.

After a long pause, Charlie stepped forward and kissed the older woman’s cheek.

The man holding the car door held out a hand to her and she finally unfolded from the seat to exit the car.

In her jeans and T-shirt, she felt positively rumpled next to all of the finery—even the staff wore better outfits than she did.

“If you’ll follow Elsie, ma’am, she can show you to your room and help you change.” The man’s crisp words dragged her attention away from Charlie—no, not Charlie.

Armand.

She paced through the darkened living room.

The nighttime view was just as spectacular as she’d imagined.

The city lights gleamed like a scattering of multicolored gems. She rummaged through the kitchen until she found bottled water tucked into a drawer in the fridge and a container with cake in it—chocolate chocolate cake with chocolate icing.

Scoring a fork from another drawer, she made sure everything was back in its place before carrying her stolen treasure into the living room.

The remotes were easily located, hidden beneath a stack of newspapers.

Some were written in languages she didn’t recognize, but most seemed focused on the business sections.

She could imagine Armand sitting here with his morning coffee and reading through each paper as he considered how to dominate the world next.

Her conscience twinged. In all fairness, he’s never talked about ruling the world or wanting anything more than a double cheeseburger with a strawberry shake. Even the news reports tended to follow two threads with the Grand Duke Andraste—who he was screwing and what charity he supported.

The women in his life—how could she ever have competed with any of them? He dated the crème de la crème of the world’s most beautiful women.

Setting aside the newspapers, she grabbed the remote and pointed it at the screen. It shouldn’t have surprised her that the channel was already on the gossip station, but she comforted the disappointment with a bite of cake.

“The big news this morning was whether one of the world’s most eligible bachelors, ranked number seven by both Sophisticate and Scantily magazines, is indeed off the market.

” An image zoomed in of her getting into the SUV outside her house.

The sadness etched into her expression filled the screen.

Despite the sunglasses, her mouth was a soft, thin line and her face was pale.

The wind stirred her hair and pulled one strand across—she barely remembered that part.

She remembered looking at the crowd and all the camera lenses zooming back at her.

“Anna Novak, a Los Angeles businesswoman who was recently appointed the head of the Princess Alyxandretta Dagmar Scholarship Fund for Foster Children?—”

She grimaced at the name. That was not what the scholarship would be called, but the reporter’s phrasing seemed to diminish the project—as if it weren’t important.

“—is working closely with the prince as he brings the fund under the oversight of the Dagmar Foundation. The foundation as we have reported is Grand Duke Armand’s pet project and has been since he founded it nearly a decade ago.”

Licking the frosting off the fork slowly, Anna paused. She hadn’t realized he began the foundation himself.

“Like many royals, the grand duke travels frequently and spends a great deal of money furthering the causes closest to his heart. His long-established bachelorhood has never been in this much question before. ACE has learned that Anna Novak and the prince attended college together and according to Vance Anderson, the couple lived together…”

The screen changed and a man with a weak jaw and a hint of jowls smiled at the camera.

“We were in economics together, I think it was their first class in freshman year—could be wrong. Anyway, they dated a lot and were pretty inseparable. I noticed because she was hot and they moved in together just a couple of months later?—”

“It was a year later, jackass.” Anna stabbed the cake again and gave herself another chocolategasm to numb the stupidity of that interview. She didn’t recognize the name and the man looked vaguely familiar, but that could just be his build and conversation.

“In the meanwhile, the prince’s former flame, the model Nikole, had this to say…” The reporter blathered on.

The screen cut away to a close-up with the gorgeous Somalian beauty with the caramel-dipped-in-gold skin and too-blue eyes.

“Hmm, I do not believe there is much to this relationship beyond the press speculation. As lovely as a happily ever after would be, if she were that important, he would have mentioned her to me, n’est-ce pas ? ”

Anna scowled and stuffed another bite of cake in her mouth. The woman continued to talk about her most recent vacation with the prince—less than a month before—and the only reason they weren’t together at the moment was her photo shoot in Greece.

Licking the chocolate off her lip, Anna punched the fork into the cake again.

If only it were that snotty, arrogant woman’s face.

The irrational anger at the other woman wasn’t remotely Nikole’s fault.

Didn’t make it go away though. Blowing out a breath, she was glad when the reporter switched tracks and an image of Alyx filled the screen.

“It was just a few months ago that the grand duke was reunited with his cousin, Grand Duchess Alyxandretta, who unbeknownst to the family grew up in foster care in California. Sources close to the family have stated categorically that had the family known of the princess’s existence, they would have reunited with her sooner and are profoundly grateful to have the opportunity to welcome the darling princess and her new husband.

” The camera angle switched and the blonde reporter turned to look at the camera.

“The prince and his brothers attended the small wedding ceremony in Sacramento and the grand reception later. The princess will be presented to the European contingent and allies this coming New Year’s at a special ball in her honor.

But the question on everyone’s lips is will the grand duke be escorting Anna Novak and do the ladies of the world have to give up on their chances of dreaming this prince will come for them? ”

She rolled her eyes. Could they become any more melodramatic?

“To add to the mystery spice of this secret love affair, ACE has learned that in the decade since their split, Anna Novak has been engaged twice?—”

She choked.

“—her first engagement took place just two years following the reported breakup with the then recently ascended Andraste Grand Duke, Armand Dagmar. As you may recall, the grand duke’s father and titular head of the family passed away from a heart attack during the prince’s senior year at college.

Sources have reported that when the prince returned to the family estate in Norway, Anna Novak actually accompanied him but left before the final ceremony that sealed the grand duke’s new role.

Two years after this, announcements were posted in the Tampa, Florida, newspaper regarding her engagement to firefighter Chad Dowds.

ACE requested an interview with Mister Dowds this afternoon, but he refused to answer our questions. ”

Oh crap. She needed to call Chad and apologize.

“Her second engagement, however, is the one that interested local reporter April Menendez—” The screen cut away to a lovely Hispanic woman standing in front of a Los Angeles police station.

“Thank you, Kim. I’m standing here at police station in Los Angeles where a certain detective works.

Four years ago, this police detective—who has not allowed us to use his name—was engaged to Anna Novak.

Because the officer works undercover, ACE was allowed to interview him but only if we did not take cameras inside or use his image.

The officer in question had nothing but praise for Miss Novak.

He wouldn’t comment on their engagement or why it ended.

He also dismissed the prince’s involvement in calling off his engagement to Miss Novak, assuring us that it was a mutual decision. ”

“April.” The screen cut back to the woman in the studio—she angled so it appeared she was speaking right to the image of April in the upper right hand of the screen. “Have you had a chance to sit down with Miss Novak?”

“No, Kim. I haven’t. All attempts to reach Miss Novak have been rebuffed, though we have it on good authority that she was seen entering the prince’s Petersburg Towers here in Los Angeles.

Now, as we reported last month, the prince maintains a residence at the top of the tower.

His security also picked her up at her house.

” The image cut to the circus outside her little cottage and Anna sighed.

“As of ten this evening, Miss Novak had not returned home. Her office is declining any comment as has the spokesman for the royal family…”

Richard was shown leaving an office somewhere in Los Angeles. He nodded politely to the cameras, but kept right on walking.

“…so at this time, it’s anyone’s gamble. But I have to say that if the two have reunited, then it has all the fairytale potential a woman could dream of…”

“Thanks, April.” The screen focused back to the studio. “For those just joining us, we are following the breaking story of Prince Armand’s love affair with American Anna Novak. Are they a match made in storybook heaven or will she break his heart for a second time?”

Break his heart… Anna stared at the screen as it cut to a commercial advertising nude celebrity moments. She looked at the remains of her decimated cake. The trip to Norway was one of the hardest she’d ever taken—but it was nothing compared to the flight home.

Alone.

“You shouldn’t watch that. You’ll never hear anything you want to hear.” Armand’s quiet voice wrapped around her. She found him standing a few feet behind her, his hands in his pockets, exhaustion digging grooves deep into the furrows around his eyes.

“You’re back.” And she had no idea how she felt about it.

“My apologies. I didn’t expect to take as long as I did.” He walked around to sit down on the sofa next to her—fall down was more like it. He claimed the remote and hit the mute button when the reporter started talking again. “You found the cake?”

“Yeah. It’s good.” Discomfort shifted inside her. He looked like hell. “Should you be going out with those threats?”

He slid off his shoes and stretched his legs out until his feet rested on the coffee table. “I cannot allow others to dictate where I can and cannot go. If that were the case, I would never leave home.”

She maneuvered the cake around in the container, chewing her lower lip. “But it’s not safe?—”

“Anna, it’s never been safe. The unhappy accident of my DNA means I live with security twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. We take precautions, I let them do their job and they allow me to live my life.”

What a horrible life that must have been… “How did you manage to go to school? You weren’t surrounded by security.”

He leaned over and poked a finger into the bowl, scraping some chocolate from the rim. “Wasn’t I?”

“I think I would have noticed.” Security didn’t exactly blend into the background.

Armand swiped another finger full of the frosting and she scooped some onto a fork and held it out to him.

He stared at her for a long heartbeat and then accepted the bite.

A streak of chocolate decorated his lower lip.

She stared at it until his tongue swiped it away. “Jimmy Snozen from across the hall.”

“What?”

“Jimmy Snozen. Giles Carter. Mike Denning. Eddie Brown.” He ticked the four names off on his fingers.

“They were your frat brothers.” They hung out at the apartment and they moved in next door and across the hall when we did…

He shook his head slowly. “No. They were part of the security detail, as was the pizza delivery man, the Chinese takeout and the sandwich shop guy.” He grabbed her water bottle from the cushion where it rested next to her leg and unscrewed the top. “May I?”

“Sure.”

A long drink later, he put the cap back onto it.

“Why?” The one question she never asked. The one she always worried about the answer. “Why…why were they dressed like that? Why did they act like your friends? Is—was Rick?”

“No. Richard and I met just like I said we did. He was my assigned roommate freshman year. Security vetted him, but he came up clean, so they let it happen. As for why—because I wanted to go to school without men in suits keeping everyone at arm’s length.

I wanted to be me and not the royal representative of the family.

” He leaned his head back. He caught her legs and swung her feet up until they rested in his lap.

It was so heart-achingly familiar a gesture, she didn’t think to pull away.

The screen flickered through another set of images, more photos of him and so many other women. She looked back at the real thing.

“I know you hate me right now and with good reason.” Her heart squeezed at the empty acceptance in those words.

“I know the last place you want to be is here. I messed this up and for that, I am truly, deeply sorry. But will you stay? Stay with me until I can fix this and you can be safe?” The quiet question carried such a deep longing that she couldn’t find irritation with it, even if she didn’t want to answer it.

She stretched out to set the container and its fork on the coffee table. “I’ll stay. For as long as it takes.”

When he didn’t say anything, she glanced over and found his eyes closed, his breathing regular.

He’d fallen asleep.

Stretching carefully, she reached over to the other chair and snagged a throw blanket.

She spread it over them both, because he still held her legs captive.

She found a way to be comfortable and switched the station to a black-and-white movie.

She watched him, not the movie, until her eyelids grew too heavy.

Did I break your heart?

Did she dare ask?