Twice a Princess Page 9

  "Who hurt you?"

  She smiled slightly, as if confused by his question. "No one."

  He shook his head. "I don't believe that. There's something in your voice that tells me you know a great deal about how much love hurts, and that could only be because you were hurt."

  Her small smile became a real smile. "Actually, everything I know about love I learned by helping Aunt Merry match-make."

  Because he'd never before seen Princess Merry at La Torchere, Alexander knew her connection to Merry's matchmaking was secondhand at best. Phone calls. Postcards. Not actual experience.

  "I'm sure you heard many things from Aunt Merry, but no one learns about pain secondhand. And I see pain in your eyes."

  Merry tilted her head in question. "And that bothers you?"

  He shook his head ruefully. "Don't think you're changing the subject. You're not going to hedge this one. There's something in your eyes that tells me you know a lot about pain, as if you had a heartbreak that took you years to recover from." Like seven years. The seven years she had been away.

  She licked her lips, obviously stalling.

  Alexander sighed. "I told you the biggest secret of my life. I told you about the woman who hurt me, why can't you tell me about the person who hurt you?"

  "Because it wasn't a person!"

  "Right."

  "It wasn't. It was…" She shook her head. "Oh, Alexander this is such an odd story!"

  "I've heard lots of odd stories."

  "Yeah, well, this one is about the oddest."

  "I can handle it."

  She sighed. "All right. Here goes. I wasn't hurt by a person, but I did go through a very difficult time because I wasn't always the nice person you're getting to know."

  Oh, yeah. He knew that.

  "In fact, I was a bit of a spoiled brat. So…" She drew a long breath. "My godmother cursed me. She took away my youth, beauty and social status. I lost everything. And it hurt. It hurt so much that some days I didn't think I was going to survive."

  Disappointed, Alexander fell to the sofa. Here he was, thirsting to kill the bastard who had hurt her, and she was making fun of him. When was he going to learn not to trust her? Probably never if he kept letting her tell him half-truths and then walk away. So this time he wouldn't.

  "Great. I told you the biggest secret of my life and you're making fun of me."

  Merry's eyes widened. "I'm not making fun! Listen to the whole story. I spent seven years cursed. The way I got my youth, beauty and life back was to make twenty-one love matches. I've been here at La Torchere for five years."

  Alexander didn't believe she'd been at the resort. But that wasn't the issue. Even remembering the whispered rumors that the royal family of Silestia was guardian of some kind of magic, Alexander refused to believe Princess Meredith had been cursed. It was simply too ridiculous in this age of science to believe in magic.

  Of course, the people of Silestia didn't think so. They loved the silly legend that their royal family possessed magic. And Princess Meredith was going home in less than two weeks. It wouldn't do for a member of the monarchy to admit to a seven-year holiday. But the citizens of Silestia would love to hear that their princess had been cursed. In fact, they would eat up the story of a curse as if it were strawberry shortcake.

  Alexander suddenly understood what was happening. Merry was test driving the story she intended to take home to her subjects to explain her seven years away.

  Not at all pleased that she was using him as a guinea pig, Alexander nonetheless let her continue, hoping she'd dig herself into a hole that he could use to trap her, to prove her explanation was nothing but fiction.

  "As I watched those twenty-one couples fall in love, I learned what love was. I learned that sometimes it's as much about vulnerability and hurt as it is about joy. But I also saw that true love is worth it and that's why I won't steer you off track by letting you fall in love with me. You. Alexander, deserve true love as much as anybody does."

  It got to him every time she claimed to be protecting him. He knew she was only spinning a yarn, but something about her voice still touched him. There was a passion, a vibrancy to it that couldn't be faked. No matter what her lie, the reason for it was that she didn't want to see him hurt, and he suddenly wondered if she hadn't created this fairy tale because her own pain was so raw that she couldn't yet discuss it.

  He glanced up at her. "And what about you? Don't you deserve love?"

  "Love is about joy, but it's also about duty and responsibility. Respect and tradition. I will love my prince, the man to whom I am promised, I may never love him romantically, but I will love him."

  At first Alexander was so stunned he couldn't reply, then anger took over. "You're kidding right?"

  She shook her head. "No. I intend to love Prince Alec."

  Anger transformed into fury and Alexander knew he had to get the hell away from her. He rose from the sofa. "I think it's time we went back to La Torchere."

  Merry didn't argue. She simply turned away. Alexander's anger became acute disappointment. Two days ago it wouldn't have fazed him to learn Merry was about to perpetuate the worst ruse of all on Prince Alec. But after her half apology, after feeling they might really be on the road to a genuine relationship, knowing she was about to use love to manipulate a man she believed to be a shy awkward prince who would fall at her feet, Alexander was so disappointed his heart hurt. When was he going to learn?

  Chapter Six

  Angry that Merry had lied to him, but furious that she intended to try to control him with "love," Alexander wouldn't inflict his sour mood on anyone the next morning. He called the restaurant to have his breakfast brought to his villa and he felt safe, until he saw it was Lissa who delivered it.

  "You're just like a big dog with a bone, aren't you?" he said.

  "Too much is at stake here, Alexander, to leave this to chance. I have to referee," she said, pushing the room-service cart into the foyer and to his dining room. As she set the place mat and silverware onto the uncovered polished oak table, she said, "So how did it go?"

  Not about to tell Lissa that Merry had admitted to the worst trickery of all—she planned to pretend to love her ugly duckling prince to manipulate him—Alexander focused on the other half of her deception. "She lied to me. She made up a story about a curse to cover her seven-year absence, something I'm sure your subjects will love to believe."

  "And that makes you angry?"

  "I'm not supposed to be angry that she lied?"

  "How do you know she lied?"

  "Okay. Whatever. She didn't lie. She was cursed. Happens ail the time."

  Lissa shook her head sadly. "You have no sense of the true wonder of the world."

  "I believe in things I can see and feel and prove. The fairy tales your country spins about magic are stories for people hoping for miracles. I can tolerate that. But lies are criminal. They always have a purpose."

  "You're a fine one to talk about lies, If Merry is stretching the truth, as you believe, she's lying to Alexander Rochelle, a man to whom she doesn't really owe any explanations about anything. While you're pretending to be a totally different person to a woman you know is your betrothed. Considering that you haven't told her your real identity, I'd say you're even."

  Rolling his eyes, Alexander took a seat at the table. "You're the one who encouraged me to hide my identity."

  "Yes, but you could have told her who you were immediately upon her arrival, long before I got in the picture. Yet, you didn't. So technically, you started this."

  "Yes, well," he said, unraveling his linen napkin. "She ended it with her lie."

  "Alexander," Lissa said desperately. "Think through why she would tell you that story. Because you're someone from whom she expects nothing, wants nothing, needs nothing, there are only two possible answers. Either her story is the truth or she was trying to protect you."

  Hearing Lissa say what he had realized the night before, Alexander was flooded by the same wa
rm feeling he'd had when he realized Princess Meredith pulled away from his kisses because she didn't want to see him get hurt. That flood was followed by another torrent of sensation as he remembered her half apology. And that torrent was followed by a whirlwind that stole his breath when he remembered how they had stood in each other's arms taking their first shaky steps toward trust.

  The night before, he had never, not for one second, doubted that she had anything but good intentions— until she tossed the word love into the mix. Then he didn't believe her. Because he couldn't believe her. If he allowed himself to believe she would love him then the whole game changed. It was much smarter to distrust her motives. That kept everybody safe.

  No longer hungry, he set his fork on the rim of his plate and pushed away from the table. "No matter what her purpose, this charade is over. I'm calling her down here this morning to tell her who I am."

  Lissa grimaced. "Please don't."

  Alexander gaped at her. "You can't have it both ways! You can't use the charade as a convenient excuse for Merry's lies, then tell me I can't tell her who I am…"

  "Alexander," Lissa said, her voice soft with pleading. "Even if you don't believe she was cursed, in telling you that story Princess Meredith actually revealed bits and pieces of her identity. That can only mean she genuinely trusts you. And if she trusts you, love can't be far behind."

  "Love. Right." He sniffed. "I told you. There's no place for love in a marriage made at the convenience of two countries. It puts the party who loves—and her country—at a distinct disadvantage."

  "I disagree. Love breeds harmony, unity, understanding. I think both countries would have a distinct advantage if the arranged couple became a love match."

  Alexander shook his head in disgust. "You are such a dreamer."

  Lissa studied him for a second, then said, "You know, Alexander, you and Princess Meredith might have a bigger problem than her supposed lie to you."

  "I don't see how."

  Lissa smiled. "Have you ever stopped to think what her reaction will be when you tell her who you are?"

  "Yes. I think she's going to be stunned and somewhat embarrassed that she didn't recognize me."

  Lissa's smile turned into a huge grin. "Really? That's what you think?"

  "I take it you don't agree."

  "No. Not even close. If she's really the princess she's been presenting to you. I think she'll be mortified at how she tried to seduce you, how she responded to your kisses and how she even tried to finesse you into believing she could run your resort when you knew all along she couldn't. I'm guessing she'll want to die of embarrassment. She may even tell her dad she doesn't want to marry you."

  Alexander's chest tightened. He'd been so sure she would be stunned that he'd never taken her reaction any further. But Lissa was right. If Princess Meredith had changed into an honest, honorable woman, she would be appalled by his deception. Luckily, he didn't think she had changed.

  "If she hasn't changed." Lissa continued. "If she's still the spoiled, difficult princess you remember…" She paused long enough to smile. "You should sell tickets and set up bleachers for when you tell her. because that girl will do more than die of embarrassment. She'll slap your face. There'll be a tantrum the likes of which this island has never seen. And if you think that princess is going to marry you. you're really deluded. You'll be lucky if your country survives whatever revenge she plans for your trickery."

  Lissa paced around Alexander, looking him over as if he were a slab of beef. "Unless she has good reason to be thrilled you're her prince."

  Though Lissa had built a definite case for Alexander to fear Merry's reaction, her last comment only made him sigh. This was the person he should have been worried about manipulating him. "You mean, unless she falls in love with me."

  Lissa smiled. "Precisely."

  "I told you, I think that would make things worse."

  "Yeah, well, I think you're just afraid."

  "You've tried this ploy before, Lissa. And I've told you, I am not afraid."

  "Really? Are you trying to tell me that you haven't yet realized that falling in love with our princess means laying your heart on the line with the woman who has already broken it once?"

  No. He hadn't. Because he didn't need to go there. There were already enough reasons not to fall in love with his future wife. He didn't need another. But now that Lissa had mentioned it, Alexander realized it was true. Staying out of the love trap didn't just protect his country. It protected him.

  Lissa grabbed the handle of the room-service cart and wheeled it to the door. "Looks like you've got some thinking to do, Your Majesty."

  Once a year Alexander treated the executive board of each of his business concerns with a week-long "board meeting" at La Torchere as a reward of sorts. Each member was permitted to bring his or her family and each was encouraged to play more than work. This week, the executive staff of his computer software company had traveled from Omaha to enjoy the resort. For the next seven mornings they would meet in Alexander's dining room/conference room and hold a fifteen-minute meeting to justify their presence, then he would let them loose on the facilities.

  After he talked through his one-page outline of notes, the four men and two women quickly said assorted thank-yous and goodbyes as they eagerly gathered their files, reports and briefcases. Within seconds only Jerry O'Riley remained.

  "I hope you don't mind," he said, glancing sheepishly at Alexander. Jerry was a thirtysomething computer nerd with brown framed glasses. Currently, he had a pocket protector pinned to his bright red T-shirt. "But I told my wife to meet me here. We're going boating."

  "I don't mind," Alexander said, laughing at Jerry's childlike enthusiasm. "But what are you going to do with your briefcase?"

  "Oh," Jerry said, pushing his glasses up his nose with his index finger. "Your new manager, Merry, is meeting us at the dock. She's not only taking my briefcase back to our room, but she's delivering a picnic lunch."

  At the mention of Merry's name, especially in such a positive light, Alexander scowled. He had to spend the next few days avoiding her because Lissa was correct. He needed to think things through. But more than that, he knew a little time apart would help their situation. At the very least, it would look as if he respected Princess Meredith's wishes and had stopped pursuing her. "That's nice of her."

  "She's a wonderful person!" Jerry said. "My wife adores her."

  Alexander scowled again. Wonderful person. Right. If she was a wonderful person, he was in trouble because he'd been duping her. Once he told her he was Prince Alec, the roles of their relationship would flip and she would no longer be the spoiled princess. He would be the deceiving prince.

  Yeah. He was really hoping for that.

  Unfortunately, if she was the wicked princess he remembered, the rest of his life would be a war. She'd hold his trickery over his head like a guillotine blade.

  Of course, either way, when he admitted who he was, she could end their betrothal.

  So his future was to become the wicked prince married to a suffering princess and to spend his life attached to a woman who would take every opportunity for revenge, or lose a marriage his country needed.

  His life was in fine shape.

  When Jerry's wife arrived—a nondescript brunette with brown eyes, wearing simple khaki shorts and a white tank top—Jerry fell all over her as if she were a princess. Alexander felt a wave of envy. The kid was a geek, a nerd, a guy who lived for computer software. It was more than amazing that he'd found someone, and every time Jerry saw his wife, the joy of that amazement shone in his eyes.

  Alexander wasn't a geek. He could have any woman that he wanted. But he lived behind a wall built out of necessity. The reality of his life was that he could not be vulnerable—especially not with a woman who would be his wife.

  He and Jerry were alike in that their respective problems could keep them from experiencing true love. But Jerry had overcome his shyness. He'd learned to budget his tim
e so there was some left for a wife. He'd learned there was more to life than his talent and his work. Jerry had faced his fears and won.

  After a few pleasantries, Alexander closed the door behind Jerry and his wife and cursed roundly. He couldn't be like Jerry. He couldn't force himself to face his fear. He couldn't be vulnerable and open with Princess Meredith because his country wouldn't get what it needed from this alliance. Particularly not if his betrothed seduced his secrets from him then turned back into the wicked princess.

  Unlike Jerry, Alexander didn't have the luxury of tossing his heart into the ring and praying that everything worked out. He needed this marriage. His country needed this alliance. He couldn't risk loving her. Too much was at stake. At the same time, if there wasn't something more than mistrust between them, she wouldn't give him the benefit of the doubt when he explained who he was, and as Lissa suggested, she might be embarrassed enough to call off their betrothal.

  He sighed, ran his hand down his face and then strode to his bedroom to change into shorts and a T-shirt. The bottom line was he had to prepare Merry. He had to drop enough hints about who he was that she wouldn't be shocked when he revealed his identity. She would wonder why she hadn't seen it herself. More than that though, he had to find a way that she would be thrilled—not angry—to know he was her betrothed. And after two days of turning this situation over in his mind, the only thing he could think to do was to seduce her. After a few heart-stopping, earth-shattering, soul-melting lovemaking sessions, she would be happy to discover the man with whom she was so compatible sexually was also the man she was to marry.

  It made perfect sense.

  Merry was packing when the knock sounded on her villa door and she pretended she didn't hear it. Even when her caller became more persistent and the knocking became pounding, she ignored it. There was no need for her to answer her door. She had made her decisions.