Page 58 of The Princess Sister Swap

‘Tell me you’re not tempted.’

‘And you will come with me on this break.’

It was not a question. Which was a good thing because she didn’t have an answer.

‘That’s not...’

But he didn’t let her finish. ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Jack, it was a suggestion, not a proposition.’ But she couldn’t deny she was tempted. Very tempted. She’d never been on a mini-break before. And just a few days ago she had resigned herself to not seeing Jack again and now he was offering her the opportunity to spend some real time with him.

She was inexperienced romantically, but she wasn’t a fool. She knew what would happen if she agreed.

Her pulse sped up at the thought.

‘And it was a good suggestion. I could do with a break, you’re right. But I spend a lot of time alone without adult company. If I was going to unwind, really unwind, I might need some help.’ His gaze was burning into her. ‘So, any requests?’

Arrosa took a deep breath, her chest tight with anticipation. Three days away with Jack—three days and three nights. Without the girls there would be no need to worry about mixed signals and raising expectations. They were both adults and they both knew the score. Had acknowledged how they felt, knew the barriers, that there was no future for them.

Maybe it needed to happen. Maybe if she left Cornwall with this connection still simmering between them, this desire unconsummated, then she would be condemning herself to a constantwhat might have been, a refrain that might run throughout her life. And who knew? Maybe they would burn out as quickly as they’d started.

‘Anywhere,’ she said and saw Jack relax just a little at the tacit agreement. ‘Not abroad as I can’t use my passport. If I did the press would instantly be alerted.’

‘How did you get here?’

‘Private jet and airfield. It’s an option but it would take too long to arrange.’ Besides, she didn’t want to involve the Court or her bodyguard, not in something as private as this.

‘UK then. Probably not too far if we only have a couple of days. Besides...’

‘Besides, you don’t want to be too far from the girls.’ She quite understood.

Anticipation buzzed through her. This was nothing Arrosa had experienced before, discussing weekend plans with a man she burned for. ‘Let’s just get one thing straight,’ she told him. ‘I know you’re a man with refined tastes, but I’m a woman who is very easily impressed. Fish and chips and a decent beach are all I require. Maybe a pint in a really good pub.’

His mouth quirked into a devastating grin and the anticipation intensified. ‘You don’t need your own concierge service?’ She shook her head. ‘Chauffeured limo? Michelin stars? Personal spa?’

‘None of the above. If you could manage a clear sky and some stars I’d be very grateful, and I prefer my bed to be freshly made, but otherwise anything goes.’

His gaze softened into something so tender it hurt. ‘Leave it with me.’

Jack disappeared to make arrangements and Arrosa quickly tidied away the lunch things, texting Sally to see if she’d be able to feed Gus for just a couple of nights, and went upstairs to pack, singing to herself as she did, her feelings so intense she could barely concentrate. Thank goodness she could use Clem’s wardrobe; her own array of tiny beach dresses, shorts and bikinis clearly wouldn’t take her very far.

Clem favoured vintage cuts, bright colours, whereas Arrosa usually dressed in more subtle tones and cuts, but then again, she’d never really had a chance to figure out her own taste. Once the project to turn her into the perfect Crown Princess had commenced, a stylist had been employed to make sure that Arrosa trod the fine line between fashion and appropriateness and so although her clothes were made just for her, and although she was always completely up to the minute in terms of cut and colour, there was something depressingly interchangeable about the dresses and little jackets, tailored trousers and neat jumpers she usually wore. Looking through Clem’s eclectic mix of dresses and skirts, silky little tops and jumpers was a lot of fun and, before she knew it, she had selected enough for a week away, let alone just a couple of days. But, then again, she had no idea where they were going.

Jack collected her an hour later, refusing to give her any hints, although he drove deeper into Cornwall and not away from the county until they finally reached Penzance. He continued winding his way through the town, pulling in at a car park near the docks.

‘We have to leave the car here,’ he said as he swung their cases out of the boot. ‘They don’t allow visitors’ cars where we’re going.’

Arrosa looked towards the dock and the ferry sign, excitement mounting. ‘The Isles of Scilly? Oh, Jack! That’s perfect. Clem and Simone went one spring, and their photos were amazing!’

She’d always wanted to visit the small cluster of islands at the southern tip of Britain. Famous for their microclimate and wildlife, something about the islands had always appealed to her.

‘It turns out that finding something last minute for a weekend in early July isn’t that easy, but luckily I know people who know people. Sure this is okay?’

‘It couldn’t be more okay,’ she said as he took both cases and headed towards the boarding gate for the ferry.

It was a windy couple of hours on a surprisingly rough ocean, but Arrosa drank in every second, laughing as her hair escaped the coil she’d fastened it into and whipped around her face. She, Arrosa Artega, was heading off on a romantic weekend with a man she had started to care for and right now everything was perfect.

Rosy’s enthusiasm was infectious. She loved everything, from the ferry journey over to St Mary’s and the transfer to the smaller boat which took them to Tresco, exclaiming at the seals and dolphins they spotted in the waves. She didn’t even mind the mile-long walk to the cottage Jack had managed to borrow, despite the stiff climb and her bulky case, waving away his offer of help.

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