Page 37 of The Prince's Castaway Baby

He slaps both hands over his face. “God, Billie, I’m so sorry. They must have tapped George’s phone. I have no idea how else they would have found out.”

“Jensen! Prince Jensen!” the press clamor. “You’re alive!”

“That I am,” he grins, and suddenly I seehim. This is the smooth, cool guy everyone thinks they know. No longer is he Jens, the sweet, bumbling man I’ve been getting to know over the last two weeks.

This is a prince — who knows everyone wants him.

“Jensen, how did you survive your ordeal? Are you okay? Have you got any comments?”

He holds up both of his hands, moving in front of me. “I’m okay, thank you. I’ll issue a full statement later on, but in short, I’ve been very fortunate to find a good friend who was willing to help me out. No further questions, please. We’ve had a long journey.”

To nobody’s surprise, that does absolutely nothing to stop the press attention. He looks back over his shoulder at me and quietly says, “I’ll get you out of this. Trust me?”

Frozen in shock, all I can do is nod. Because for all that’s gone between us, I am certain Icantrust Mr. Media Scandals to get me away from all of this.

He takes me by the hand, and then rushes at the crowd, bulldozing his way through. The ranks of journalists and fans close around us, and I gasp for breath, feeling like I’m being crushed, but Jensen squeezes my hand as if to tell me not to worry. As if he’s telling me we’ll be all right.

In this moment, I let myself believe it.

He pushes us through the masses, and once we’re on the other side, he releases my hand and turns back to wave for the cameras. There he is, in prince mode again.

And here I am, standing next to him, getting caught on film.

I think I’m going to be sick.

My stomach churning, I turn on my heel, ducking away from the cameras and rushing in the exact opposite direction of everyone else. Jensen follows me, his footsteps heavy on the wooden jetty. “Wait, Billie, please. I’m sorry. Let me just?—”

“Save it, Jensen,” I hiss, doing my best to keep it together. I can just see the headlines —Jensen in a fight with his island girlfriend— and I want no part in it. “I don’t care.”

“Please, Billie, you know I never meant for them to find me. I didn’t want it to be like this.”

“I know,” I say, pulling back, worried he’s going to try and take my hand again.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he just sighs. “Okay… well, thanks for everything,” he says. “I’ll always remember this, and you.”

It should be sweet, but it sounds more like the kind of thing you say to your favorite teacher at the end of a class rather than something genuine and heartfelt to the girl you… fell in love with? Had a fling with? Used for a few days?

Whatever. My head is spinning, and I’m painfully aware of the journalists still watching us from a distance. I guess Jensen is too, because we’re both rigid, frozen to the spot. And I guess he thinks he’s protecting me, which should be sweet, in a way.

But the thing is, I don’t need protecting from anyone, and I definitely don’t need it from him. “Great, okay. Goodbye, Jensen. Enjoy the rest of your life.”

I make sure to bump into him with my shoulder as I pass him, and when he calls after me, I don’t turn back around. I clench my fists and I don’t look back.

I’m terrified that if I look back, I’m going to launch myself into his arms and do something stupid.

Instead, I march all the way back to the bus station, my mind reeling. On the boat, he seemed to be begging for attention, for one last chance, and then, all of a sudden, it’s like a switch flipped. Like he stopped caring at all.

I stand, pacing with my arms folded as I wait for the bus. When it comes, I board it in a trance, taking a seat and staring blanklyout of the window. I need a shower. A long, hot shower and a long, deep sleep. Two things the hotel will be able to offer. I’ve stayed there before, so I know that for a fact.

And that really is the plan, and it’s all going so well — until I actually step into the shower and burst into tears.

Damn it. Damn him. Why can’t I get him out of my head?

This hotel can provide me with everything, it seems, except the one thing I really want. The one thing I’m never, ever going to have.

After all, I didn’t even get his number.

CHAPTER 19

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