Confessions of a Girl-Next-Door. Jackie Braun
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“I wasn’t sure what I would need,” she said.
For a moment he forgot that he was speaking to royalty. She was simply Holly. “Tank tops, shorts, a pair of comfortable walking shoes, maybe a hoodie for cool nights and a swimsuit would do.”
“I packed those …. And a little bit more.”
“So I see.”
The contents of his closet could fit in those bags, but Nate decided to give her a break. After all, he’d been around enough women to know they had a whole different definition for the word essentials.
She reached for the smallest bag. It had wheels, not that they would do much good on the sand. “Sorry to be an imposition.”
An interesting choice of words, to be sure.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
Her expression brightened. “I’d hoped to rent the cottage Gran and I always stayed in at your parents’ resort.”
“My parents are gone.”
“Gone?” She looked alarmed.
“Retired,” he clarified. “They moved to Florida four years ago.” Just after he’d returned to the island from a job at one of the swankiest hotels in Chicago.
“The resort?”
Normally, it would give Nate great satisfaction to claim ownership and to admit that he’d expanded the place considerably since taking over. But this was Princess Hollyn Saldani. He doubted she would be impressed.
“I’m the owner now.”
“Oh.” One syllable that told him how enthused she was, but he’d give her this, she rallied fast. “I was hoping to find a place available.”
“Sorry.” He shook his head slowly, not sure whether he was relieved or disappointed. “We’re all booked up at the moment. In fact, I don’t know that there’s a vacancy anywhere on the island until after the Fourth of July.”
Usually, given how far north the island was, its resorts weren’t full with patrons until after Independence Day. But this year, warm weather had come early and people from downstate were willing to make the drive and then the short ferry trip from Michigan’s upper peninsula to the island.
“I wasn’t thinking. I should have made arrangements ahead of time,” she murmured. “Do you suppose there are any homes for rent on the island? I’d love to be on the water, of course, but I’ll take what I can get at this point. Beggars can’t be choosers.”
It was an interesting statement coming from a woman who was next in line to the throne of her own kingdom.
“I don’t know of anything offhand. You can check, but given the time of day and the storm, my guess is that most places are closed for the night.” He snorted. “You know the island. Sidewalks pretty much roll up after eight o’clock.”
He imagined she’d grown accustomed to glitzy, late-night parties with exclusive guest lists and the finest gourmet cuisine. Yet she didn’t seem bothered by the prospect of no real nightlife here.
Her smile was nostalgic, damned near fond, when she replied, “Yes, I remember.”
Was that really why she’d come?
Sure, she’d told him she needed to get away, but weren’t there all sorts of fancy spas in Europe—and America, for that matter—more likely to fit the bill for a royal retreat than an out-of-the-way island that catered to the needs of middle-class tourists seeking good fishing, great scenery and a slower pace?
Hank reached them then, toting the last of her bags.
“Don’t worry, miss. Nate’s house has plenty of room. You can stay there at least for tonight.” He glanced at Nate for corroboration.
What else could Nate do but nod? The quiet evening at home he’d envisioned just an hour ago now included two overnight guests. He knew from previous experience that Hank snored like a drunken sailor. Nate also knew that it was Holly who would keep him awake this night.
CHAPTER TWO
HOLLY wasn’t sure what to do since Nate’s invitation was begrudging at best.
That hurt. Not that she’d expected him to greet her with arms wide open. In fact, she hadn’t been expecting to see him at all. She remembered how determined he’d been to leave the island for big-city living. But his displeasure right now was palpable, even if, for just a moment when they’d wound up sitting in the lake, he’d reminded her of the handsome young man who’d made her teenage pulse race with a simple smile.
As tempting as it was to turn down his offer, she had to be pragmatic. As she recalled, the island had a finite number of accommodations available. She would be lucky to find anything else on such short notice, so she followed him and the pilot up the beach.
Tomorrow, she could return to the mainland if need be. Tonight, she needed a place to stay. Jet lag was catching up with her. And that short flight over from the mainland had left her with white knuckles and a queasy stomach. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have chanced it, especially this late in the day, with no firm reservation and a storm blowing in. She’d not only risked her life, but also the life of the pilot. A fact Nate had been only too happy to point out. Despite what he must think, it wasn’t like Holly to be so thoughtless. But as with every thing the past several days, desperation had her acting out of character.
Her hasty plan’s imperfections were glaringly obvious now. She should have been more thorough in her arrangements before packing her bags and jetting across the Atlantic. That much was clear now. What had been as transparent as glass less than forty-eight hours ago was that she had to get away.
She caught up to Nate and glanced sideways at his stern profile. He wasn’t exactly glad to see her. But it was her own emotions that gave her pause. She wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing him again.
Once upon a time, she’d thought … Mentally, she shook her head. It was foolish to recall those dreams. They’d been unrealistic then. Now, they were unfathomable. Once again, she felt the grip of destiny tighten around her like a vise. There was no escaping it. Not completely, anyway, even if she hoped to find respite for a few days or a week. Holly groaned.
She didn’t expect it to be heard over the wind, but Nate turned and asked, “Something wrong?”
“No.”
“No?” His brows rose.
His wry expression and disbelieving tone came as a bit of a surprise. Back home no one would have dared to question her—well, except for her mother, who browbeat Holly regularly over the most minute of things. Holly needed to be perfect. Or at least give the illusion of perfection at all times. Interestingly, coming from Nate, she rather enjoyed it. She’d much rather he treated her as an equal, even one with whom he was angry.
They reached the house, a cedar-sided bungalow that she remembered from her visits to the island as a girl. Back then, he’d lived in it with his parents, and she’d always been welcome inside