He wanted to tell her not to worry, but he knew that it would be futile. He might as well get this over as quickly as possible. He retrieved the newspaper from the stool in the kitchen.
“You need to see this” He handed over the paper.
She held it in front of her. A gasp filled the air. A color photo of them kissing made the headline of the Mirraccino Gazzetta. This wasn’t the innocent peck under the mistletoe. This was a full-on, passionate embrace and lip-lock.
When he’d been roused from his bed in the middle of the night because an informant had delivered an advance copy, Demetrius hadn’t wanted to read the accompanying blurb. But it was like a train crash that you just couldn’t turn away from. His gaze had panned down to the words...
THE CROWN PRINCE IS SMITTEN!
Prince Demetrius and the interior designer Zoe Sarris are creating a steamy scene of their own.
Is the Prince going back to his old partying ways? Or has Ms. Sarris stolen his heart?
You be the judge.
Zoe’s pale face turned to him. “But how?”
“Apparently a photographer snuck onto the terrace at Residenza del Rosa yesterday without anyone noticing. It seems that we put on quite a show for him.”
Her worried gaze moved to him. “Do...do you know who the photographer is?”
“Not at this point. The security cameras aren’t hooked up yet.”
“Was it that creepy reporter who has been lurking about?”
“I don’t know. My men are working on it.”
“So everyone has seen this.” Her face turned a pasty white. She jumped to her feet. “I need to tell my mother.”
“Calm down. No one has seen this. At least not the general public. The palace staff took great pains to get the print run stopped and the story replaced.”
She pressed a hand to her chest and breathed out. “Maybe you should have led with that part.”
“The thing is, people know about us. There’s no putting this genie back in the bottle—”
“But the palace staff—”
“Only delayed the inevitable. They gave us time to figure out how to spin the story.”
“Spin it?” Worry lines marred her face.
He knew this was a lot for her to take in at once, but they didn’t have much time to figure out what they were going to tell the public. He’d already decided what he wanted. He swallowed hard, hoping she’d agree. “I think we should announce our marriage.”
“What? No.” She shook her head. “You can’t. You’ve worked so hard to redo your public image.”
“And if this news comes from you and me, people will be happy for us. They’ll all want to know how soon we’ll be having children.”
“Children?” Zoe looked as though she was going to pass out.
He hadn’t meant to throw everything at her at once. “It’s okay. We can wait. There’s no rush.”
“The king...he won’t be happy if we reconcile. Not at all. He wasn’t pleased when you brought me home the first time.”
“That’s because I caught him off guard. This is different.”
When her mouth opened again, he pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t say anything you’ll regret. I know this comes as a big surprise. Think on it tonight and let me know tomorrow.” He paused and though it pained him to say it, he added, “I’ll accept whatever decision you make, as long as you think about it. Will you do that for me?”
She grabbed his finger and gave a squeeze. “I will.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
HE WAS LATE.
Zoe checked her watch again. What was keeping Demetrius? It was his idea to meet here in the courtyard. Before he’d left the beach house last night, he’d made her promise that she’d give him an answer about what to tell the press regarding their relationship.
She hadn’t slept a wink last night. Not that she had anything to debate. She had to walk away—she had to do what was best for Demetrius. The last thing he needed was to have a country to run and a wife with Alzheimer’s. She’d stared into the dark, thinking how much she’d miss him. This time walking away would be so much harder. Her heart already ached.
Footsteps behind her had her turning. “Demetrius, I’m over here.”
The smile slipped from her face when the creepy reporter stepped out from behind a lush shrub. Uneasiness inched down her spine. What was he doing here? What did he want with her?