was small. Maria’s thigh was against his. Alex could feel her trembling. With anger? With despair? Not that it mattered to him…
“We had different goals,” Maria said carefully. “Angela went straight to work. I went to college.”
“And quit.”
“I didn’t quit, I changed schools. I went to the Fashion Institute of Technology.” A touch of pride edged her words. “It was not easy to get in.”
Luz made a face. “Such foolishness! Two years spent studying what? Drawing? Making geegaws? And meanwhile, your cousin, Angela, was—”
The hell with this, Alex thought, and he clasped Maria’s hand. She tried to tug it away but he threaded his fingers through hers.
“Maria,” he said smoothly, “I think it’s time we told your mother the truth.”
Her eyes went dark and wild. “Alex. Alex, please—”
“I admire your modesty, glyka mou,” he said softly, “but surely your mother should know the details—of this commission.”
Maria let out a breath. Luz shrugged her shoulders.
“I know them already, Prince Alexandros. My daughter entered a contest and lost. She’s won it now because the real winner backed out.”
“You make it sound as if Maria entered a sweepstakes, Mrs. Santos,” Alex said with a smile that barely softened the tightly spoken words. “In fact, fifty of the world’s most prestigious jewelry designers submitted sketches for my father’s perusal. He and his ministers narrowed the field to three but the final selection was the king’s.” He paused. “He chose an excellent entry—but from the start, Maria’s design was the queen’s choice.”
Maria’s eyes lit. “Was it?” she said softly.
Alex nodded. What was the harm in telling her the truth?
“The necklace your daughter creates will be photographed by every major magazine. It will be featured on television news on virtually every continent. And when the queen’s birthday celebration ends, it will be displayed alongside the Crowns of Aristo and Adamas, two of the most famous royal crowns in the world.”
Luz seemed to take it all in. Then she nodded and looked at Maria.
“This is a fine opportunity, mia hija.”
“Sí, Mama. I know it is.”
“You must not squander it. Such good fortune may not come your way again.”
Alex glanced at Maria. She had a stiff smile pinned to her lips. He couldn’t blame her. Not that her feelings meant anything to him, but couldn’t her mother work up a little enthusiasm? His own mother had always been loving. Not the way mothers were loving in the books he’d read when he was growing up, or even in the ways he’d observed when he spent an occasional holiday weekend with a friend from boarding school.
Tia had not tousled his hair or kissed his scraped knees; she had not tucked him in at night or sat with him at breakfast in the morning. He’d longed for those things as a kid but he’d understood. She was the queen. His father was the king. His parents had grave responsibilities; from his earliest years on, he’d been groomed to respect that.
But Tia had applauded his every academic achievement and sports trophy. Even Aegeus, who had always treated his children, especially his sons, with cool removal, would have offered a word of praise at news as important as this.
“This was more than good fortune,” he said coolly. Maria looked at him in surprise. Hell, he’d surprised himself. “Your daughter’s talent is the reason she won the commission.”
Maria’s counterfeit smile had given way to one that was soft and sweet. He wanted to cup her face with his hand, taste that sweetness, kiss her not as he had before but gently, tenderly…
A muscle knotted in his jaw.
“It’s time we left,” he said brusquely, and rose to his feet.
It had stopped snowing; the street was clear and a plow truck disappearing just ahead, red lights blinking, was the reason.
Hans popped from the driver’s seat of the big limo and swept the rear door open. Maria stepped in; Alex followed her.
“Where to, sir?”
What was that sound? Was Maria—was she crying?
“Sir? To the airport?”
Alex forced his attention to his driver, then dug his BlackBerry from his pocket. There was one text message. It was from his pilot and it was brief and to the point.
“Runways are open. Flight plan has been filed.”
“The airport,” he said briskly, and settled back in the seat.
The big car moved swiftly through the streets. Maria said nothing; her face was turned to the window. If she’d been weeping, she seemed to have stopped.
Alex cleared his throat.
“I forgot to leave my phone number for your mother. I’ll have my secretary call her with it first thing tomorrow. Is there anyone else you wish to notify?”
She shook her head.
“Not even—” He paused. Don’t, he told himself, but the need to say it was the same as the need to touch an aching tooth, even though you knew it was a mistake. “Not even your friend, Joaquin?”
She swung toward him. “He is my friend,” she said fiercely, “despite what you think. And I have my own cell phone, thank you very much. I don’t need you or your secretary to do it for me.”
“You needn’t bite my head off. I just—I just wondered if, perhaps—”
“Look, you did one decent thing tonight, Your Highness. You—you tried to defend me to my mother. I suppose I owe you my thanks for that. Just don’t—don’t spoil it.”
“I didn’t defend you. I spoke the truth. My mother loved your design.” He hesitated. “Frankly, I agreed with her that it was the best. Why should that be a secret?”
She lifted her chin and looked directly at him. They had just pulled up to a traffic light. The red glow lit her lovely face with color and yes, she had been crying. The delicate skin under her eyes was swollen.
“If it isn’t a secret, why didn’t you tell me right away?”
Alex felt a quick stab of guilt, but why should he? Maria had not been honest with him, and her lie of omission had been far greater than his.
“I told you what you needed to know,” he said coldly. “There was no reason to tell you anything more.”
She gave a little laugh. “Such diplomatic words, Alexandros. Why, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were a—” Her face turned white.
“Maria?”
