The Prince She Never Forgot

He nodded. ‘I think so too. I didn’t want to say anything, but when we were flicking through the pictures the other day it was almost as if the “mmm” sound was hovering around her lips. It wasn’t quite there, it wasn’t quite formed, but I could almost hear it in the air around us.’

‘You think she was going to say Mum?’

He gave a rueful smile. His fingers moved. She was still touching his hand and this time he interlinked his fingers with hers.

‘You think I’m just being silly? Is it just a father’s wishful thinking?’

She shook her head. He was so sincere.

‘I think you’re being the same as any parent, Alex. You’re putting the welfare of your child first.’

‘And so are you.’

He said the words so quietly they took a few seconds to sink into her brain.

His bright blue eyes were fixed on her. The implication was clear. Alex was acknowledging something that she hadn’t yet acknowledged herself.

Her other hand was still poised over the soup, with the already sodden piece of bread threatening to fall into the cup. Her hand was trembling. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from his.

She dropped the bread in the soup and pushed it away. The library was mainly dark, the gardens outside giving only a glimmer of deep gold light. But it didn’t matter how dim the light was—the only thing she could fixate on right now was him.

His other hand stretched over and tangled in her hair. She sucked in a breath as he stroked the back of her neck. Every part of her skin was tingling.

He moved. It was only one step but he was kissing her, pulling her up into his arms. She wrapped her hands around his neck. Last time he’d kissed her they’d been on the yacht. Tension had been in the air all around them. This time it was different.

This felt like the most natural thing in the world. Every touch of his fingers sent shivers down her spine, building expectation.

This didn’t feel as if a man with a kingdom was kissing her. This felt as though Alex was kissing her. Alex whom she’d met in Paris all those years ago.

The man she’d watched change over the last few weeks and months. The man who’d taken on board what she’d told him about his child and tried to make changes. He respected her opinion. He’d taken her seriously.

She didn’t feel as if she were there as a paid employee any more. It felt like so much more. This felt natural. This felt right. This felt as if it were the place she was supposed to be.

He pulled away and looked down at her. He was smiling. The twinkle in his eyes was back.

‘Ruby Wetherspoon...?’

She blinked, not quite sure where this was going. His voice was serious, but the smile hadn’t moved from his face. It was almost as if he knew the answer before he asked the question.

‘Yes?’

All she could concentrate on right now was the heat of his body against hers. She didn’t care that she was wearing ratty clothes. She didn’t care that her hair was a mess. All she cared about was the fact she was in Alex’s arms.

‘Would you do me the honour of coming to Euronia’s Annual Charity Ball with me?’

Her throat instantly dried and she wanted to lick her lips. But she couldn’t because Alex was kissing her again.

It was almost as if he knew that for a fraction of a second she’d be filled with doubts and he was determined to kiss them away.

This was the first official function he’d invited her to. They’d spent lots of time together—lots of time alone and with Annabelle—but this would be the first time Alex sent a message to the world.

He’d told her he would give her time. And she’d known that he needed time too.

But that time had passed. It felt as if they were both on an even footing. Both in a place where things could develop in the way they wanted.

So she said the thing that felt the most natural to her in the world.

‘Yes, Alex. I’d love to.’

CHAPTER TEN

THE DRESS WAS BEAUTIFUL. More stunning than anything she could have imagined.

Red satin, with a ruched sweetheart bodice encrusted with silver crystals. It hung from the wardrobe door, the crystals glittering and sending sparkles around the room. There were matching silver sandals.

Her stomach was fluttering over and over. Her food tray lay on the table untouched. She couldn’t even think about eating.

One of the palace staff had come and set her hair in rollers—a silent girl who’d been ruthlessly efficient: tugging the rollers into place within a few minutes, with strict instructions not to remove them until five minutes before she was ready to leave.

It felt so unreal. Even her face in the mirror looked unreal. The black kohl she occasionally put around her eyes had been smudged uselessly across one cheek. It had taken her two attempts before it looked anything like it should. And the red lipstick seemed too severe. It was a perfect match for her dress—together they would look magnificent—but next to her white skin and dark hair in the bathroom mirror she felt she looked more like the Wicked Queen in Snow White.

Doubts were creeping into every corner of her mind. Alex had asked her to come. His reasons seemed valid. But she was just an ordinary girl who knew nothing of visiting dignitaries or the traditions of other countries. At first this had seemed exciting, flattering and little fairytale-ish. Now it seemed terrifying. Every handshake, every nod of her head, every word she said could be wrong.

The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass him.

Maybe things would be better if she stayed in her room?

The door handle creaked and the door edged open. Ruby gasped, her hands automatically going to her bra-covered breasts and her bare abdomen.

But it was Annabelle, dressed in pink pyjamas and with sleepy eyes. She didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned to see Ruby half dressed.

‘Is something wrong Annabelle?’ She knelt on the floor next to the little girl.

But Annabelle’s eyes were wide as she looked at the sparkles on the red dress. She let out a little squeak of excitement and pulled her thumb from her mouth, reaching over to touch the dress.

It swung on its hanger, making the sparkles move like little stars in the sky.

The thumb had left a smudge on the delicate fabric, but Ruby didn’t care. ‘Do you like it, Annabelle?’

The little girl nodded. So Ruby let it swing some more, sending the sparkles further. She lifted Annabelle into her arms and swung her around, then picked up an abandoned book from the floor.

‘Let me take you back to bed,’ she said, slipping her arms into her satin dressing gown and padding next door.

She read the caterpillar book until Annabelle fell asleep. She almost wanted to stay there. It would be so much easier falling asleep next to Annabelle than putting on that dress and going out to meet the world.

Alex had asked her to accompany him. What exactly did that mean?

She was Ruby Wetherspoon from Lewisham. She couldn’t speak any other languages. She didn’t know how to address dignitaries. There was every chance she would seriously offend someone by not shaking their hand the correct way. Her stomach was turning over and over.

Annabelle looked so peaceful. Her attachment to Ruby was growing. It was Ruby she’d seek out now when she was looking for company. It was Ruby she wanted to draw pictures and play games with.

And these last few weeks had brought changes in her demeanour. She wasn’t quite so shy. She was gaining confidence. She was interacting better with the children at nursery. She might not be talking, but every day Ruby heard more sounds and expressions. It was almost as if a tiny little valve had been released and she was becoming more comfortable.

Last night Ruby had been convinced that the humming along to Finding Nemo was becoming a murmur. She?

?d been careful not to react. She’d stayed exactly where she was, letting Annabelle lie in her arms until she’d fallen asleep and then gently sliding her arms out from underneath her.

The thought of going away and leaving this little girl was starting to play on her mind. The hospital in the UK had started to ask her for the date of her return. It seemed reasonable. She hadn’t expected to be here this long. But the days had quickly turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. Euronia was starting to feel like home—no matter how many times Polly phoned her and told her it was time to return to London.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to leave Annabelle.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to leave Alex.

Where had that come from?

Her face flushed and she walked back into her own room, shedding her dressing gown and pulling the red dress from the hanger and stepping into it.

She sucked in her breath and slid the zip up at the back. It fitted perfectly—just like everything the palace had provided. The silver sandals were elegant, but comfortable. The only thing missing was jewellery.

Nothing really suited. Her plain gold earrings and chain looked paltry next to the designer gown. Maybe it would be better with nothing at all?