Page 4 of The Wanted Prince

“He’s been working too much,” said Dad, not looking up from his phone. “Let’s have some fun tonight. The office can wait.”

Our car slowed as we passed through the palace gates, and we headed up the long, tree-lined drive. I could hear music already, and the murmur of voices. A shudder ran through me, restrained as I was. I’d never been good with these gilded events, not since Prince Alessandro’s fifth birthday. I’d been just three, and I’d spotted some treats, a tower of cream puffs that stood taller than I was. I’d pulled out a chocolate one from near the bottom, and the whole tower had come tumbling down. A photographer had caught me taking a bite, blissfully oblivious to the wreckage I’d caused. Behind me, Prince Carlo had burst into tears. The king was laughing, one hand to his chest.

If I was famous for anything, it was for that photo. It had gone viral before people said “viral,” all over the papers and the TV news. SWEET-TOOTH TODDLER CRASHES ROYAL BIRTHDAY! People still asked about it, if it was me. Or they’d offer me cream puffs, which I’ve never liked. I’d taken one that day for something to do, bored to distraction with the stiff palace party.

Our car ground to a stop and I tried a deep breath. My corset bit into me and I coughed instead. I always felt like that three-year-old at parties like these, clumsy and awkward. Foolish. Exposed. One step out of line, and it could happen again, the laughter, the headlines. The mocking baked treats.

“Don’t fidget,” Mother said again, and slapped at my hand. I realized I’d been tugging at the top of my bodice, trying to loosen it. To get some air.

The valet opened my door and the sea breeze rushed in. I leaned into it, grateful, and tottered to my feet. If only I could stay out here, out in the gardens! But Hugo was at my side, taking my arm. Leading me up the broad marble steps. Inside, the palace was blazing with light. Laughter rose up, and eddies of gossip, champagne-fueled chit-chat filling the air. Skirts swished, jewels flashed, and I felt faint.

“Oh, no,” Hugo murmured. “It’s the Duke of Salcí.”

I looked around, but I couldn’t see him. I couldn’t see much of anything but a bright golden blur.

“We should get some water,” I said.

“We’ll make the rounds first.”

I reminded myself that I knew how to do this. I’d been to a thousand balls just like this one. As long as I smiled and stuck close to Hugo, nothing could go too terribly wrong.

“There’s Gustav,” said Hugo. “I should say hello.”

My head spun. “Wait, what? Who’s Gustav?”

“An importer. I’m hoping we’ll soon be in business.” Hugo let go of me. “You’re all right on your own?”

I wanted to scream at him. No, I wasn’t all right. I hated it here, and he was my lifeline. And I’d be flying home in two days, and I’d barely seen him, and what the hell? Instead, I flashed him my best party smile.

“Sure, go ahead. Don’t be too long?”

But Hugo had already left me behind. He swam through the crowd like a well-dressed shark, angling his body to cut through the gaps. Soon he had vanished, and I was alone. A vision of the next few hours flashed through my head: me feigning interest in some trinket, some statue, so I wouldn’t look awkward standing alone. Or my cousins would find me, or the royal aunts, and I’d be cornered for hours, catching up on their gossip.

I was casting about for some hiding place when I felt my neck prickle, that tingling sensation of being watched. My first thought was to ignore it. Lose myself in the crowd. But by the time the thought struck, I was turning to look. And then my eyes locked with Prince Alessandro’s, and I felt my breath catch and my knees go weak.

Forbidden fruit, I reminded myself. Off-limits, and wrong for me for so many reasons. Our families had fought two civil wars, snatched the throne from each other and then snatched it back. Even in peacetime, they sniped at each other, like Mother had tried to do with the emerald choker. Add to that Alessandro’s string of high-society lovers, and he spelled heartbreak a thousand times over. Still, he broke out in a grin when he saw me, and quickly excused himself and headed my way.

I thought about fleeing, but not as hard as I should have. Truth was, I’d always liked Alessandro. Right from the day of his doomed birthday party, he’d always been sweet with me. He’d made me laugh. I’d been crying that day, scared by the press, and he’d come over with a big slice of cake.

“For you,” he’d said. “I wanted to do that as well.”

I’d looked up at him, sniffling. “Wanted to do what?”

“Knock over those cream puffs. Watch them go splat.” He’d flashed me a gap-toothed grin, and I’d felt better.

Our parents had warned us as we got older, not to get too close. To watch our backs with each other. But heading into our teen years, that had made it exciting, smiling and flirting across crowded rooms. Passing notes, tokens, sweets and pressed flowers. He had a pin of mine. I had his school ring. We’d once almost been each other’s first kiss, but his father’s booming laughter had put paid to that. We’d startled apart as he’d barged in, and a month or two later, Alessandro had left for college.

Now he was smiling that same impish smile… except it wasn’t so much impish as full-on wicked. A man’s smile, in place of the boy I remembered. He’d got taller, I thought, and his shoulders were broader, his strong chin rough with a dusting of stubble. I wanted to run my thumb down his jaw, over his full lips, and?—

“Alessandro!” His name came out half a gasp. He half-bowed, eyes twinkling. I might’ve curtseyed, or just bobbed my head. My heart was fluttering like a trapped bird, stars in my eyes as I forgot how to breathe.

“Laura,” he said, my name soft on his lips. Like a caress, I thought, and a hot wave crashed through me.

“It’s been, uh…” I swallowed, my throat gone dry.

“Too long. Since college. How have you been?”

I clenched my fists to collect myself, nails biting my palms. Whatever I said to him, the world might hear. One slip of the tongue, one silly faux pas, and I’d be the star of tomorrow’s tabloids. I couldn’t see any cameras, but people still talked.

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