Dating the Prince(32)

The president let out a snort, as though he wasn't so certain of that.  Alex opened his mouth to say something, but Libby placed a calming hand  on his arm. They couldn't make a scene in a crowd of people.

"How is your Yorkie adjusting to life in the White House?" Libby asked,  directing her question toward Scarlett. "He is just the cutest puppy  I've ever seen."

The First Lady beamed. "Cookie has taken to her new life like the diva  she is. The staff is wrapped around her finger. She's got free reign of  our personal quarters and prances around like she owns the place most  days."

Libby laughed politely. "I can only imagine. She must love having so much room to run around and play."

"I confess she's caused a bit of work for the Secret Service once or twice," Scarlett said. "But they're adjusting."

"And what about your daughters?" Libby asked. "I'm sorry, I don't remember their names."

"Norah and Emily. They're twelve and fifteen now."

Teenagers. Poor girls. "I can't imagine going through puberty in the public spotlight. That's got to be so hard for them."

The crowd ebbed and flowed around them, but no one interrupted their  conversation. Libby kind of wished they would. She had pretty much  exhausted her knowledge of the First Family.

The president let out a harrumph. "Girls are too delicate," he said, the  Texas twang more pronounced than ever. "They've got the entire world at  their disposal. What do they have to complain about?"

Scarlett sent her husband a warning look that told Libby they'd argued  about this more than once. "It's been an adjustment for them," Scarlett  said. "They're struggling to make friends at their new private school in  D.C. You know how teenage girls can be."

"That I do," Libby agreed.

"It's something you'll have to deal with, as well." Scarlett motioned  back and forth between them. "When the two of you eventually have  children, I mean. The presidency is for four years-maybe eight, God  willing. But being heir to a country is a lifelong commitment."

Libby's hands stilled on Alex's arm. "I guess I hadn't thought about that."

"You'll have quite an adjustment to make too, dear," Scarlett said  knowingly. "You've got it twice as bad as any of us. The American papers  are going wild over the news of your engagement. It's almost like we  have American royalty. It's not only in Durham where you're front page  news."

Libby resisted the urge to wipe her clammy palms on her skirt. She  pulled her arm from Alex's and took a sip of champagne to give herself  time to think. "Am I really that famous?"         

     



 

Scarlett laughed, apparently not noticing the tension. "You're the most  well-known face in the States right now. You're living every girl's  fairytale. This engagement is like a dream come true."

Alex shot a glance at Libby, his brows knit together and face drawn. Are you okay? he seemed to ask.

Libby lifted one shoulder, not sure how to answer.

"We're monopolizing your time," Alex said, offering an apologetic smile  to the president. "We'll talk more tomorrow when we discuss trade  agreements."

"Looking forward to it," President Campbell said. "Good to meet ya, Libby."

"You too," Libby said, letting Alex lead her away.

A fantasy. She'd never been one of those little girls who dreamed of one  day being a princess. But if she kept pursuing her relationship with  Alex, what other end could there be to her story? If she actually fell  in love-if they truly got married-she'd be giving up everything for him.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked quietly. He nodded to the prime minister as  they passed by. Libby hoped her smile didn't look like a grimace.

"I guess I didn't really think about how all this was playing out back at home," Libby said. "Everyone knows who I am now."

"It's an occupational hazard of dating a prince."

She leaned close and lowered her voice. "What about when all of this is  over, Alex? I'll go home to America and-what? Pretend that none of it  ever happened? The press will never let that happen."

He gave a helpless shrug. "We don't know how this will end."

She brushed away his hands and turned to face him. "Don't we?"

His eyes were hooded, as though trying to hide something. "Libby-"

"It's fine," she cut in. "I know we can't talk about it here. We should be mingling with the guests or something."

"Are you okay?" he asked.

No. She wasn't. But she nodded anyway and downed the rest of her champagne. "Just fine."

Some member of parliament cornered them, and Libby tuned them out as  they droned on about some bill being voted on in the upcoming session.  She was drowning in her own thoughts. Falling for Alex was a very, very  bad decision. But was it already too late to protect her heart?

She thought of the way his lips felt on hers. How he was the first thing  she thought about every morning and the last thing every night. What  was she doing?

The members of parliament excused themselves, and Alex and Libby started  walking again. She kept a smile plastered on her lips and followed  Alex's lead, nodding to anyone he did. A sharp intake of breath pulled  her back to the present.

"I can't believe she's here," Alex muttered.

"Who?" Libby asked, craning her neck and scanning the room.

"Isla," he bit out.

Libby's blood ran cold. Isla. As in Isla Martin, his ex-girlfriend? The  vile woman who'd gotten them into this conundrum in the first place?

"Where is she?" Libby hissed.

Alex gave a discrete nod toward one corner of the ballroom. "Near the piano, in the white dress."

Libby knew when she'd found Isla, simply because so many men in tuxedos  surrounded her. The woman was breathtakingly beautiful, and Libby could  see instantly why Alex had been attracted to her. Blonde hair fell  around Isla's creamy-white shoulders in soft curls. The white dress  simmered and glistened with each movement, while the mermaid-style  hugged her slender frame and left little to the imagination. She  laughed, the sound floating toward them like music.

Libby instantly hated her. She'd met those types of women before-all shiny veneers hiding ugly insides.

"Why did she come?" Libby asked.

Alex raised a shoulder in a helpless shrug. "I can't imagine who  would've invited her. Certainly no one at the palace. The staff wouldn't  risk their jobs over something like this and my family wouldn't risk my  wrath."

"Just ignore her," Libby said, placing a soothing hand on Alex's arm.  "She'll be gone in a couple of hours. There are enough people here that  we should be able to ignore her."

"Should being the operative word," Alex breathed. "She's coming over here."

Libby whipped around and realized with horror that he was right. Isla  sauntered across the marble floor-her movement could hardly be called a  mere walk-and headed right toward them.

"Smile and act natural," Alexander commanded. "There are eyes and ears everywhere."

Libby plastered on a smile. Isla held out her arms and pulled Alex  close, brushing a kiss across each of his cheeks. Libby tried not to  flinch at the action, but wasn't sure she succeeded.         

     



 

"Alexander," Isla said in a sultry voice. "It's so good to see you again, darling."

"What a surprise." Alex's voice was strained, as though the words were caught in his throat and didn't want to escape.

White-hot anger flashed through Libby, followed quickly by jealousy. She  placed a possessive hand on Alex's arm and cleared her throat. Alex  blinked, as though coming out of a daze. Had he seriously forgotten she  was here? His hand reflexively covered hers, but his skin was cold.

"Isla, I'd like to introduce you to Miss Liberty Claybourne."

"His fiancée," Libby couldn't help but add as she extended her hand.

Isla gave it a limp shake and a simpering smile. "Pleasure, I'm sure."  She turned her attention back to Alex. "An American, Alex? Really, I  thought I'd taught you better than that."

Okay, now Libby wanted to punch this woman in the face. "I'm sorry," she  cut in. "I didn't realize that my nationality was an issue."

Isla raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well of course it is, darling. Everyone  assumed Alex would marry a Durham. For the crown's sake, of course."

"Aren't you half American?" Libby asked pointedly.

Isla gave a delicate shrug, her attention focused again on Alex. "In  name only. Durham is my home. I was raised here. I understand our  customs and traditions." She lowered her voice and took a step closer,  placing a hand on Alex's arm. "Darling, I made an awful mistake."

Now Alex did show some emotion-his fists clenched in anger. "You call  what you did a mistake?" He glanced around, then leaned closer. "You  nearly ruined me, Isla."

"And this little tart is your solution?" Her eyes narrowed, and Libby  felt fear clench at her heart. "That's right, darling. I know exactly  what you're playing at here. I have a friend at the consulate office,  and she says that Libby only entered the country six weeks ago."