The Dirty Series 1(83)

I realize that Alec and Nate’s interaction seems very formal, and is a far cry from the way they bickered behind closed doors in New York. I’m beginning to realize that everything is going to be different here…but how much different, I don’t know.

It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out, though. As Nate pulls the car away from the airport, I notice that several other sleek black and official-looking vehicles seem to be falling into line behind us.

Then I hear the wailing sirens.

Alec groans. “Nate, you asshole, did you tell the palace that we were returning?”

Nate doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “Yes, your highness, since I would like to secure my employment in your household. Also, your father was keen on ensuring that your trip to New York appeared to be an officially sanctioned trip.”

“Oh, and a royal escort through the capitol is going to do that?”

“He seems to think so.”

Nate screws up his mouth, and I wonder exactly what I’ve gotten myself into.

Alec and I talked during the flight when the sky above the Atlantic was dark. He told me his full name is Alexander Charles Caldwell, and he is second in line to the throne of Saintland after his older brother, Marcus. It’s only been the three of them since his mother died of breast cancer when he was ten years old. I also got the impression from the way he spoke about his dad and brother that they hadn’t exactly approved of his vacation to the United States.

After Alec finished outlining his life story, I told him some of mine. How I wouldn’t take no for an answer about boarding school. How my closest friends are rich, but no matter how many years I spend in their world, I never quite feel like I belong. How I was thinking of leaving New York for a fresh start.

That’s when it hit me. Maybe this was divine intervention, and Alec was my fresh start.

Nah. But it was good fucking luck.

“I guess,” I said to him in a low tone, “this could be the perfect distraction.” I keep it noncommittal. No need to promise each other forever, not this early in the process, not when emotions are still running high from our big escape from the paparazzi.

As I lean against Alec in the back of a royal town car—I still can’t believe that’s what this is—and absorb the beautiful quaint European countryside that’s giving way to a city that seems both modern and historic, I sigh deeply. Things are squared away with Carolyn. My job is probably a thing of the past, but it wasn’t my dream job anyway.

All of a sudden, I feel light-headed as it dawns on me. The real adventure is about to begin.





Chapter Fourteen





Alec



I set Jessica up in the Royal Suite at the Northern Crown, which is only about a half mile from the palace. If it were up to me, I’d bring her directly to my father’s council chamber and introduce her to him right now—there’s no way he could deny how smart, beautiful and incredible she is—but I know that even if Jessica was an angel who descended directly from heaven, the conversation would still be tense.

As it stands, the household staff gives me sympathetic looks as I make my way through the palace to my rooms. Goddamn sympathy.

My stylist—who is similar to the valets on that show Downton Abbey in that he’s always on hand to coordinate my wardrobe and run any errands that Nate doesn’t—is waiting for me when I get there.

“Your highness,” he starts out, “I’ve laid out three options for the meeting with your father, and—”

I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “First off, hello, Phillip.”

His face turns red, and he inclines his head. “Good afternoon, your highness.”

“Secondly, how do you know I’ve scheduled a meeting with my father?”

“I—,” Phillip is so uptight that I like to fuck around with him a little whenever possible. Also, I’m exhausted from the transcontinental flight and already irritated about this meeting.

“I have, in fact, not scheduled a meeting with my father. I will be meeting him shortly at my convenience.” I know even as I say the words that Phillip, the moment my back is turned, will alert my father’s staff that I intend to meet with him. Such is the way of royal life. “In the meantime, I need to wash up.” I scan the three charcoal suits he’s carefully arranged on the bed. The only difference between the trio of suits is the accompanying tie color. “The red tie will do.”

Twenty minutes later, clean-shaven and dressed with Phillip left to his own devices in my rooms, I’m standing outside the oversized mahogany door to my father’s council chamber.

And twenty minutes after that, I’m still standing there, getting angrier by the second. I start to pace, exasperated.