Page 26 of The Wanted Prince

“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” Alessandro was laughing, shaking his his head. “And you splashed me back, but you used your feet. I was absolutely soaking, so?—”

“So you threw me in!”

“I didn’t throw you. I?—”

“Threw me! You shoved me straight in. And not in my slip, but that big poofy dress…”

He groaned. “Oh, that dress! You looked like a cupcake. All the skirts floated up, all those ruffles, the lace…”

“My petticoats. They were floating all over.”

“And then that footman came.”

“And your father was fuming. His face, oh my God…” A smile tugged at my lips. “But you took the blame.”

“We had fun, didn’t we?” His gaze had gone distant. The pale glint of starlight seemed sad in his eyes. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d left.”

“You left first,” I said.

“But you went farther.” Alessandro pushed his wet hair back from his face. “What made you decide to go to New York?”

“Well, part of it was, I got into Columbia.” But every school I’d applied to had been in the States. I swam up to the pool’s edge and gazed down at the sea. “Part of it was that, but mostly, I just… I wanted to go somewhere nobody knew me. Where who I was wouldn’t be decided by the press. I missed you — I missed everyone, and it hurt every day. It hurt to lose friends I’d had my whole life. Not all my friends, but a few close ones…”

“Out of sight, out of mind?”

“I guess so, for some.” I sighed. “But I needed to get out there and be myself. To find out who that was, besides a Cardona. Here, I could only be one of two things: the clumsy little girl who upset the cream puffs, or Laura Cardona, enemy of the throne. Or frenemy, I guess, with the way it’s been lately. Either way, it’s a lot. The intrigue. The drama.”

“I get that,” said Alessandro. “Did you know I was jealous?”

“Jealous of me?”

“Of your adventure.” He swam up next to me, water swirling around him. A crystal-clear eddy splashed over the edge. “Not that I don’t love the life I’ve got, or my family, or Santaviedo. But I’ve wondered as well what else there is to me, outside the boundaries of His Royal Highness. Who my real friends would be, if I were just me.”

I glanced up at him sharply, but he was looking away. This wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned his real friends, or his sense of not knowing who they might be. I wondered if that was the source of his fear of commitment, his revolving door of starlets and heiresses. Was he afraid he’d fall for the wrong one? Someone who looked at him and saw only the prince?

On impulse, I edged up closer beside him. He hissed, surprised, then slid an arm around me. I leaned my head on his shoulder and we watched the sea far below. The last of the sunset flared up, then died. The sail of a late boat turned red, pink, then gray. The balmy breeze cooled, but I felt safe and warm. Just like I’d always felt with Alessandro. But we weren’t kids now, and this wasn’t a game.

“If we get caught,” I began.

“Shh. We won’t.” Alessandro leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Even if I get caught, I’ll keep your name out of it.”

I doubted he could do that, prince or no prince, but I nodded anyway and cuddled in closer. He pulled me to him, protective, and I closed my eyes. I basked in his warmth, his strong arms around me, and pretended for a moment that this was our life.

CHAPTER 10

ALESSANDRO

We pulled over ten minutes outside Barcelona, so Laura could take my place in the driver’s seat. I scrunched down beside her and dug out my cap. It made me feel small, hiding my face. Cringing like some coward. Some criminal.

“What’s his address?” said Laura.

“Give me a sec.” I dug out my phone and fired up the screen. A barrage of texts popped up, a mess of missed calls. Carlo, Dom, Carlo… Carlo again. I swiped them away and a new text appeared, short, stark, from Carlo.

At least text us back so we know you’re alive.

I pressed my lips together. I wanted to, badly. But if I did, could Carlo use that? Could one simple text reveal where I was? I didn’t think so, but I’d need to find out. Then I could text him and set his fears to rest.

I swiped his text away feeling like the worst kind of asshole.

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