The Princess and the Player

Enough of this hiding and watching their step and having to do things separately so no one could take a picture of them together. They were catering to the whims of their fathers, whether she realized it or not.

“We’ll go together.” He rose and held out his hand.

She hesitated for so long, an uneasy prickle skittered across the back of his neck. It was way past time to dispense with all this secrecy nonsense. He wanted to do what he pleased and go wherever he wished without fear of someone creating a scandal. Today was a perfect day to stop the madness, since they already planned to confront her father.

Firmly, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Yes. Together. If someone takes a picture, so be it. We’re talking to your father today, so there’s no reason to keep up this game of hide and seek. Not any longer.”

Heaving a huge breath, she nodded. “Okay.”

Together, they walked to the front, where a delivery driver stood on the front drive, waving.

“Tengo un paquete,” he said, and touched his cap.

Smashing. One-day delivery, as advertised. James had been worried the gift he’d ordered for Bella wouldn’t arrive in time, but obviously the exorbitant rush charge had been worth it.

“Gracias,” James responded immediately. “¿Dónde firmo?”

Bella’s eyebrows quirked. “When did you learn Spanish?”

“In like grade four,” he retorted with a laugh. “I grew up in a Spanish-speaking country, remember?”

The driver held out his clipboard and once James signed, the deliveryman went to the back of the truck and pulled free a large parcel. Handing it over, the driver nodded once and climbed back into his truck, starting it up with a roar.

The package squawked over the engine sound.

“What in the world is in there?” Bella asked, clearly intrigued as James carried the box into the house through the front door, careful not to cover the air holes with his arms.

“It’s a gift. For you.” James pulled the tab to open the top of the box, as the Spanish instructions indicated. The box side fell open to reveal the large metal birdcage holding two green macaws. They squawked in tandem.

Bella gasped. “James! What is this?”

“Well, I must have gotten the wrong birds if it’s not abundantly clear,” he said wryly. “You said you missed your macaws so I brought some to you. Are they okay?”

He’d paid an additional flat fee to guarantee the birds would arrive alive. They looked pretty chipper for having been shipped from the mainland overnight.

With a loud sniff and a strange, strangled mumble, Bella whirled and fled the room, leaving James with two loud birds and a host of confusing, unanswered questions.

“I guess I muddled things up,” he told the birds.

He put the cage on the coffee table and gave them some water as he’d been instructed when he ordered the birds, but his irritation rose as he poured. More water ended up on the floor than in the container.

If he could just punch something, his mood would even out. Probably.

Was he supposed to chase Bella down and apologize for spending money on her? Demand an explanation for why she’d hated the gift so much, a simple thank you was beyond her?

By the time he’d ripped open the package of bird food and poured some in the dish, she hadn’t returned and his temper had spiked past the point of reasonableness. So he went in search of her and found her upstairs lying in a tight ball on the bed in the master suite. Sobbing.

Instantly, his ire drained and he crawled into the bed to cuddle her, stroking her hair until she quieted enough to allow his windpipe to unclench. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer and his gut twisted.

Maybe she’d been looking for the exit and his gift had upset her. Women were funny about expensive presents, thinking a bloke had all kinds of expectations in mind if they accepted the gift.

“There aren’t any strings attached to the birds, Bella. If you like them, keep them. If you don’t, I’ll...” No returns, the place had said. “...sort it.”

His throat went tight again. If she was done here, the birds were the least of his problems. He wasn’t ready to end things, not yet. Eventually, sure. His agent had a phone call scheduled with Liverpool today, but that was only the beginning of a long process that might not net him anything other than dashed hopes.

Had he inadvertently speeded up the timeline of their parting with his gesture?

“I like them,” she whispered, her mouth buried in the bedspread.

His heart unstuck from his rib cage and began to beat again. “Then talk to me, hon. I’ll uncomplicate it, whatever it is.”