stopped there. He rubbed the back of his neck before stretching. He was probably making too much of the first meeting. He’d see things clearer in the morning.
At last, he gave in to the urge for a great big yawn. The unpacking could wait. After being in transit for much longer than he cared to remember, it’d feel so good to lie down and rest. Just for a moment. After all, it was almost dinnertime.
He leaned his head back against the pillow. Maybe this trip wasn’t going to be as bad as he’d imagined. For the time being, he could be a normal person without people looking at him with preconceived notions of what a royal should say or do. For just a bit, he’d be plain old Alex. A regular citizen. A mere tourist. Something he’d never been in his whole life.
* * *
The next morning, Alex awoke with his street clothes still on. He’d only meant to lie down for a moment. His stomach rumbled. He hadn’t even made it to dinner. Then the events of the prior evening started to play in his mind.
He groaned as he recalled how in his exhausted state he’d been less than gentlemanly, demanding to have his way. He scratched at his two—or was it now a three?—day-old beard. He definitely owed Reese an apology.
After a hot shower and a much-needed shave, he started to unpack. He moved to the dresser and pulled out a drawer. He froze when he spotted a light pink lacy bra. What in the world?
His gaze moved to the right, finding a matching pair of undies. They weren’t much more than a scrap of lace with a couple of pink strings. Immediately the image of Reese came to mind. This must be her bedroom. And these were her things. He slammed the drawer shut, but it was too late. His imagination had kicked into overdrive.
Not only had he been unfriendly last evening, but he’d even stolen her bed right out from under her. He groaned. He wasn’t so sure an apology was going to be enough to earn his way into her good graces.
He removed a pair of jeans and a sweater from his suitcase—the clothes he’d borrowed from his brother. They were more casual than his normal wardrobe, but this trip called for a very casual appearance. He and his fraternal twin, the Crown Prince Demetrius Castanavo, still wore the same size. Not that his brother would even notice the missing clothes, much less care about them. He had more important things on his mind at the moment.
Alex’s next task was styling his temporarily darkened hair. He didn’t want anyone to recognize him too soon. Let the paparazzi continue with their hunt. After all, the fun was in the chase. And it’d take them awhile to find him in this out-of-the-way inn.
As he worked the styling gel into his hair, he mulled over his brother’s situation. He sympathized with Demetrius. The thought of being responsible not only for the royal family but also for an entire nation was, to say the least, a bit overwhelming. He just hoped Demetrius would come to terms with his inherited position as crown prince and not cause any further incidents—such as the potential scandal everyone was working so hard to cover up.
Next Alex added some saline drops to his eyes to refresh the colored contacts similar to the ones he’d used while he’d been on vacation a few months back. He blinked a couple of times, then inspected his image in the mirror. A smile pulled at his lips. For today, he was no longer Prince Alexandro. He was just plain, ordinary Alex. But first he had some royal business to attend to.
He stepped into the living room and heard a knock at the door. A man handed him a tray of food and Alex’s mouth watered. It’d been a long time since he’d been this hungry. He thanked the man and barely got seated on the couch before he took his first big bite.
After finishing every last drop of the herb soup and devouring the turkey sandwich, he logged on to his computer. He scanned one news site and then another and another. His plan wasn’t working. The paparazzi weren’t following his jaunt to the U.S. the way he’d hoped they would. In fact, he’d fallen out of the headlines. This was not good. Not good at all.
He’d definitely have to up the stakes if he wanted to gain the press’s fleeting attention. Uncomfortable with the idea of throwing out a juicy bit of information, he nonetheless started typing a note from a fictitious palace employee to a popular internet gossip site about his recent “activities.” This was the only way to keep them from sniffing out the truth—the scandal that was his brother’s life. He just wondered what lengths he’d have to go to in order to keep up this charade.
He was able to keep working into the afternoon and catch up on some important emails related to Mirraccino’s shipping commerce. Once he’d pressed the send button on the last email, he made his way downstairs. He’d just found his way to the kitchen when Reese came rushing out of it carrying a stepstool. All bundled up in her coat and fuzzy pink earmuffs, she came to a halt when she noticed him blocking the hallway.
“Good afternoon.” Her voice was cool and there was no hint of a smile on her face.
This would be so much easier if he hadn’t stumbled upon her skimpy undies. Even now he wondered if she had on a matching blue set. Or perhaps she preferred deep purple. Or maybe they were polka-dotted.
“Could you move aside? I was on my way out the door.”
He gave himself a mental jerk. He wasn’t ready for her to go—not yet. “I smell something delicious. The aroma wafted the whole way upstairs. What is it?”
She lowered the collapsible stool to the floor and leaned it against her leg. “It’s homemade marinara sauce. But it’s not ready yet. If you want to make yourself comfortable in the living room just off the foyer, I’ll make sure someone lets you know when dinner is served.”
“Do you want to join me?”
“I can’t. I’m headed outside to do some work.” She hefted the silver stool.
“But I wanted to speak with you.”
“Can it wait? I have a couple of things I need to do before dinner.”
“Of course.” He kept what he hoped was an impartial expression on his face. “It’s not urgent. May I help you?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got it.”
As she headed for the front door, an uneasy feeling came over him. The ladder looked as though it’d seen far better days. Combine that with the ice and snow and it’d undoubtedly add up to trouble. Perhaps this was a way he could earn himself some points with her. But more than that, something told him Reese could use a helping hand—even if she was too stubborn to admit it.
As it was, he’d never been any good at just sitting around doing nothing. If he’d been at the palace, he’d be busy dealing with one situation or another. His country was quite involved with the exportation of its fine wines and fruit as well as being a shipping mecca. But he had to keep in mind that while he was in New York, he was plain Alex on holiday. Still, that didn’t mean he had to sit around doing nothing.
He rushed off to grab his coat from the apartment. On the way back down the stairs, he happened upon a young man rushing up the steps, taking them two at a time. The guy had stress marring his face as a distinct frown pulled at his mouth. The guy grunted a hello as he rushed past. Alex couldn’t help but wonder if that was the groom.
Why in the world did people put themselves through such stressful situations? He had no intention of saying I do any time soon—if ever. He’d seen firsthand how powerful love could be. And when it was over, it left people utterly devastated.
