Noah pressed his back into the door of the villa, his fingers fumbling to make sure the lock had engaged. He wouldn’t put it past Katya to come barging in without knocking, as she’d done it twice on this tour already.
His head pounded with thoughts of Zara and what she must think of him. He had to figure out how to get in touch with her. He knew what he needed to do; he just didn’t want to ask his mother for Zara’s phone number during the tour. He didn’t want to jeopardize his chances of getting permission to leave his country for good.
At the same time, he wondered why he needed permission at all. He’d been gone for several months before, and why couldn’t he just relocate and return to Triguard for visits? But he knew that princes didn’t always get what they wanted, especially those who wouldn’t rule.
Maybe he could ask Louisa to ask their mother for Zara’s number.
Always back to Zara.
But Noah felt like he was one breath away from suffocating without being able to contact her. Everything had happened so quickly, and he could barely make sense of it even in quiet moments.
“Ambushed,” he muttered to himself as he pushed away from the door. His family had ambushed him with Katya’s presence and subsequent announcement that she would be accompanying him on the engagement tour.
Three weeks with the woman who’d lied about him, caused him to flee Venice, and didn’t even appear remorseful about any of it. Oh, no. His mother had been busy buying her dresses and getting her hair fixed so Katya could be presented as respectable. So she could hang on his arm, and they could pretend to be together.
“Just for a few weeks,” his mother had said, looking at Clara. The public relations director had then launched into the insane plan to restore Noah’s reputation, at which point he and Katya would have a quiet break-up, and if he’d behaved and played his part well, he might get what he wanted most—Zara and a normal life in Getaway Bay.
He might have been able to go along with the plan better had he been able to communicate with Zara in any way. But his phone had been “accidentally” dropped into the koi pool in his mother’s personal suite, and he’d been presented with a new one.
A new one without any contacts in it, and he didn’t memorize phone numbers. He’d messaged Zara through the one social media app he’d found her on, but she hadn’t responded. She didn’t look terribly active there, as her last post was four months old. With every minute and hour that passed, Noah’s hope leaked away.
Knocking sounded on his door, and he jumped like a skittish cat. Couldn’t he get five minutes of peace?
“Who is it?” he asked through the solid wood.
“Louisa,” his sister said. “Hurry up and let me in.”
Noah did exactly that, and she darted into the room. He closed the door swiftly behind her and asked, “Who are you running from?”
She patted her hair, smoothing her royal persona back into place along with the errant strands. “Katya.”
“Oh, so that makes two of us.” He gave her a dark glare and went back into the kitchen. There’d be no alcohol here, and even if there was, Noah wouldn’t consume it. He knew better than to drink and try to impress people and reporters at the same time.
He did need an escape though, and the fact that Louisa did too spoke volumes.
“We’re at the very beginning of this tour,” he said. “Are we going to survive?” He opened the fridge and found soda and water. “Want something to drink?”
“Water, please.”
He handed his sister a chilled bottle and took one for himself too. “Why are you doing this tour?”
“Mother thought it would be good for my image,” she said. “Damien’s not married, and he doesn’t have many prospects at the moment. It’s quite…untraditional.”
“Well, maybe some of our traditions should be changed.”
“Noah,” Louisa said reprovingly.
“What will happen when you produce an heir first?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows. “I mean, come on, Louisa. Does it really matter if you tour for weeks?” He shook his head as he uncapped his bottle.
“Damien will be King,” she said. “And his first heir will be next in line, no matter how many children I have first.”
“Exactly,” Noah said. “So why does it matter if you tour around, shaking hands and smiling for the camera? It doesn’t make a bit of difference.”
“It does in public perception,” she said.
Noah grunted and drank. After swallowing, he said, “And public perception is all that matters.”
Louisa opened her mouth, probably to argue, but more knocking came on the door. Noah knew this rap, and he rolled his eyes. “Katya.”
“She really is an interesting woman,” Louisa said.
“She really was in trouble that night in Venice,” Noah said, wishing it didn’t come out so defensively.
“I know.” Louisa put her hand on Noah’s arm, drawing his attention from the closed door. “Father looked her up. Everything about her. Interviewed her three times. We believe you, Noah. It’s just—”
“About public perception,” they said together.
“I know,” Noah added, a sigh of exhaustion passing through his whole body. “I don’t know if I can do this for two more weeks.”
“You have to.” She straightened and tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder. “I’ll deal with her tonight.”
“Thank you,” Noah murmured. “Louisa?”
She turned back to him, and the powerful connection of siblings flowed between them. He saw her as a small girl who he used to follow around. She’d pour tea for her animals, and she only ever let him bring one “guest” to the parties—a ratty stuffed elephant he’d gotten from their excursion to Africa when he was four years old.
“Could you maybe get Zara’s number for me? Or get in touch with her and let her know what’s going on?”
Sadness crossed his sister’s face. “I can’t, Noah.”
“Why not?”
“Because any little leak to the press about how this isn’t real could be disastrous for us.”
“And you trust Katya to keep her mouth shut?” Because Noah didn’t. The woman had already lied and spread rumors once.
“Father does,” she said. “So I must.”
“So no Zara.”
“Not for a few more weeks,” Louisa said. “I’m so sorry, Noah. It’s obvious you care for her.”
Noah nodded, his jaw tight, his teeth clenched, his heart struggling to beat. He wasn’t sure Zara would be overly excited to hear from him in a few weeks. In fact, he was quite sure she’d break up with him long before then.
“If she loves you as much as you love her, she’ll understand.” Louisa ducked her chin and turned back to the door. Noah moved out of sight as she opened the door and said, “Katya, why don’t we take dinner in my suite tonight?”
The door closed behind them, and Noah hurried across the room to lock it again.
If she loves you as much as you love her.
Noah wasn’t in love with Zara. Was he?
He shook his head, his stomach grumbling for something with more calories than water. No, he wasn’t in love with Zara—unless she was in love with him. Could she be in love with him?
The confusing thoughts went round and round, and Noah wanted nothing more than to talk to her. Hear her voice. Assure her that nothing she saw online was true and that he was doing everything he could to return to her and Getaway Bay as fast as possible, for as long as possible.
But he couldn’t even text her, and Noah had never been so frustrated.
A week later, Noah’s irritation once again rose to a level he’d never known. He kept a tight grip on Katya’s hand, his plastic smile cemented in place. But he was livid and about to blow. He wished Louisa and Eric would hurry up and finish so he could get away from this insufferable woman, get out of this excruciatingly hot suit, and somehow find relief.
He’d never been overly religious, but he prayed now, harder than he ever had.
Because Katya had kissed him. Right in front of the reporters, as if they were so madly in love and couldn’t wait to be on their own engagement tour. In fact, she may have said those words. Noah’s anger roared through him, blocking out other sounds.
The sun beat down. The wind died. Katya’s hand in his tried to wiggle away but he squeezed it tighter. And still Louisa talked and nodded.
Finally, finally, she turned and saw him. Alarm crossed her face, and Noah’s hope diminished a little more. If she could see his discomfort and annoyance so easily, so could everyone else.
She wrapped up her conversation and waved to the crowd one final time before turning and walking past him and Katya, Eric’s hand on the small of her back. Once they were safely inside the library, where Noah himself would be speaking to a group of teens and their parents, Louisa asked, “Will you excuse us?”
The security detail fell back, leaving the four of them to go on alone. Louisa turned toward the door where a woman wearing a name badge stood, and she said, “Noah and I need a moment.” She was all smiles and perfection as Noah went past her into the room.
Once the door was closed, he finally released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “I can’t do it,” he said, a moan following. “Did you see what she did out there?”
“No, what happened?”
“She kissed me.” He braced his hands against a table, trying to get enough air now. “Louisa, this isn’t helping. This is only going to make me look worse when we break up.” And what about Zara? his mind wailed.
Louisa stepped back to the door and opened it a few inches. “Eric, darling, could I have my phone please?”
“What’s going on?” he asked, handing it to her.
“Come in a moment.” Louisa backed up to let her fiancé in. Noah liked the man. He was charming and good-looking too. A duke from a neighboring island nation. And he adored Louisa and she him, and in Noah’s mind, that was all that mattered.
“Oh, no, I just need Eric. Thanks, Katya. We’ll only be a moment.” Louisa closed the door, dropping her princess politeness as soon as the click sounded. She began tapping and swiping on her phone, and then she gasped.
Her eyes lifted and met Noah’s, and she turned the phone to him so he could see what she’d found. Pictures.
Oh, how he hated pictures. And cameras. And anyone who wielded a camera.
“See?” he said. “My name’s going to be in even more headlines because of this. And not good ones.” He paced away from his sister and her fiancé. “Why did anyone think involving this woman was a good idea? I said it wasn’t from the very first mention of her.” He shook his head, his teeth grinding together again. It was a miracle he had any enamel left.
“I’m sending it to Dad,” she said.
“Who cares?” Noah asked bitterly. “The pictures are already out there.” He stared out the window, feeling more lost and alone than ever. Even when he stood at the glass door in the mansion in Getaway Bay, he hadn’t felt this low.
Eric stepped next to him. “I got Zara’s number,” the man said, so quietly that it took several seconds for Noah’s brain to register that Eric had spoken.
“What?” Noah looked at Eric, who steadfastly gazed out the window.
“Sh,” he said, his mouth not moving. “Don’t look at me.”
Noah returned his attention to the glinting sunshine outside.
“Hand me your phone,” Eric said. “Carefully now.”
Noah moved centimeter by centimeter, finally getting his phone onto the windowsill in front of him and Eric. He wanted to look over his shoulder at Louisa, but he didn’t dare. He could hear her sighing, and her phone kept chiming with each message that came in.
Painfully slow, Eric picked up Noah’s phone, and then he moved quickly. How he could swipe and tap without truly looking down was a skill Noah needed to start working on. But only seconds later, Noah’s phone was back on the windowsill, and Eric had fallen a step or two away “Don’t tell Louisa,” he said in that same low voice before turning back to her. “What’s your father saying?”
“He doesn’t know what to do either. He’s called for Clara.”
“That woman won’t know what to do,” Noah said, leaving his phone where it sat. “Katya is a liability. A loose cannon. No one can predict what she’ll do. And now, everyone stands to be dragged into this,” he said. “Do you think for a moment she won’t tell the papers how Dad paid her to pretend to be with me to smooth over what happened in Venice months ago?” He scoffed. “We’re all in very real trouble.”
Silence prevailed in the room, and then someone knocked. It didn’t sound like Katya, and Eric moved to the door to open it. He was just as fluid as Louisa and Damien. Just as polished, with sandy hair that never sat out of place, and a pair of hazel eyes that observed everything.
Noah hadn’t even asked Eric to help him get Zara’s number. But Louisa had likely told her fiancé about Noah’s feelings for Zara and how she couldn’t help him. But that didn’t mean Eric couldn’t provide some assistance….
“They’re ready for you,” a woman said. “Should I tell them you’ll be another minute?”
“No,” Louisa said. “We’re ready too.” She turned back to Noah. “Don’t forget your phone, baby brother.” She gave him a smile as she crossed the room toward him. She fiddled and fixed with his tie, though it was absolutely perfect. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “But let’s get through this event and then figure out what to do. Okay?”
Noah nodded. “Okay.” Then he picked up his phone and followed his sister out of the room.
Two hours later, he rode in the back of the limousine, his sole focus on his phone as he tapped out a message to Zara. He had so much he wanted to say, but he decided to start small.
Hey, it’s Noah. I have a new phone, and I’m sort of under a lot of stress. Can’t talk much, but I’ve been thinking about you and hope your He didn’t know what to put there. He didn’t want anyone to know he was texting Zara if they happened to look at his phone. So he didn’t want to use her name. Or ask about her show. Or put anything personal that would help anyone connect any dots.
Which made his first communication with her in weeks utterly ridiculous.
He read over the message again, finishing it with, I’ve been thinking about you and hope to see you really soon.
Could he put a heart emoticon?
In the end, he didn’t, just sending the words across the wide expanse of ocean and continents that separated them.
It was early morning in Getaway Bay, and a weekday, so Zara probably wouldn’t have to be up too terribly early. He settled back into his seat, ready to wait a couple of hours to hear from her. Which made the vibration from his phone, indicating that he had a message, all the more thrilling as it moved through his fingers.
His heart beat in the back of his throat as he read her response.
Don’t worry about it. Looks like you’re having fun with Katya.
His blood ran cold. So she’d seen the Internet stories. What could he say to assure her this was fake without getting himself in trouble with his parents? Without throwing Eric under the bus?
I’m not, he sent.
A picture of him and Katya kissing was her response, along with the dreaded words, Don’t text me again, Noah. I’ve already moved on.