Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Wynn
“I look like an off-the-rack loser.” I turned left and right in the mirror. Fortunately, I’d packed two suits for the trip in case we ended up going to a high-class restaurant, but at no time had a state dinner been on the agenda.
“You look amazing, Wynn. It’s a crisp look that works perfectly.” Hannah pressed her hand against my lapel. “When he asked you to join him, I don’t think he was thinking about your fashion sense.”
“Han, I don’t want to embarrass him; he’s an honest-to-God prince!”
“Stop.” She held my face in her hands. “Julian has amazing taste because he chose you to accompany him tonight. Look past the polyester, Wynn.”
“He’s a prince.” My voice was a whisper, insecurity squeezed at my lungs, and my stomach was in knots. “I’m a freelance journalist with ADHD and a serious case of two left feet.”
“Enough. No more talking bad about my friend. Mark?” she called out.
He popped his head in the room from the balcony. “Yeah?”
“How does Wynn look?”
His eyes traveled the length of my body and once he stopped at my face, he grinned. “I think you’re gonna make him speechless.”
Mark wasn’t one for hyperbole, and he didn’t spare people’s feelings, so I truly believed him.
“Thanks.”
“Him you hear,” Hannah scoffed.
“Yep.”
I’d just slipped my feet into my shoes when there was a knock on the door. I’d just calmed down, and now my heart was racing.
“I’ll get it, take a second to breathe.” Hannah kissed my forehead and moved to let our visitor in.
I wasn’t in view of the door, but I heard Julian’s voice asking if I was ready. I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and made my way to him. The moment I saw him, I tripped on air—only saved by Mark’s quick reflexes.
“Sorry.” I winced.
“Are you all right?” Julian stepped forward. He was gorgeous in his probably Armani or Valentino suit.
“Yeah, just…” I gestured to him. “You look amazing.”
He smiled sweetly. “Thank you, and may I say, you look breathtaking.”
Well, damn. “You may absolutely say that.” I chuckled, my confidence beginning to lift.
He crooked an elbow. “Shall we?”
I walked closer and slipped my arm through his. “I’m terrified, you should know. I may be a journalist used to talking to people, but the most famous person besides you I’ve ever spoken to was a doctor who wrote a book once.”
His eyes shimmered, the silver almost shining through. “I think you’re going to be wonderful tonight. Please just be yourself, because that is who I invited.”
Over his shoulder I saw Hannah nodding excitedly and Mark grinning.
“Okay, I’ll do my best.”
This dinner was being held in a restaurant called the Victoria, and from what Julian had told me it was closed to the public this evening for the event.
When we arrived, my eyes widened at the showcase of media that were lingering outside the building.
“Uh, do I stay in the car?”
Julian furrowed his brow. “Whatever for?”
I gestured to the flashing cameras. “Paparazzi…is that what they are?”
“They are, but why would that mean you stay in the vehicle?”
I cleared my throat. “To not be seen with me…I mean, what do you say if they ask who I am? What do I say?”
“I imagine you tell them you’re Wynn Carter, and I will tell them you’re my date.”
My jaw dropped. “Just like that?”
He nodded. “Now, the longer we sit in the car, the more suspicious it is. Just smile, and pretend they aren’t there. That’s what I do.”
I snorted and followed him out of the car. Flashes of light burst seconds apart from each other, reporters calling out the prince’s name, questions flung. “Who is with you, Your Highness? Why did you change your itinerary; are you dating?”
Julian ignored them all and moved swiftly inside the restaurant. “This place is named after my mother,” he said once the shouts had silenced. How could he pretend that didn’t happen?
“Oh, that’s lovely.” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder. “Those questions, they won’t forget they asked them.”
“I’m aware.” He smirked, and together we walked deeper into the restaurant.
“How will you answer them?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Not sure I will.”
I chuckled. “As a journalist, I can guarantee that the longer you avoid answering them, the more persistent they’ll become.”
He hummed. “Then I suppose we will have to discuss how you’d like me to answer them later. But a benign answer as discussed in the car would suffice, I’d think.”
I didn’t get a chance to ask him what he meant by “discuss,” because people began to descend upon the prince.
He kept me tucked close as he introduced me to whom I assumed were heavy hitters within the royal family and politics of it all.
I wasn’t one hundred percent sure how the order of things worked here.
“Your Highness.” A blond woman with a too-wide smile wearing a royal-blue dress that hugged her body, and even what I could see was an impressive bosom, approached us.
“Governor Rambles,” Julian said by way of greeting.
She waved her hand. “Oh, do call me Rona. It’s a fun dinner, after all.” She eyed me with—dare I say—disdain. “And who might this lovely gentleman be?” I would bet money lovely hadn’t been the word she’d used to describe me in her head.
“Governor, this is my date, Wynn Carter. Wynn, this is the governor of Crellesia, Rona Rambles.”
I held out my hand. “Oh, so nice to meet you. Crellesia is a gorgeous island, and the people have been wonderful.”
Reluctantly, she took my hand. “Date?” Her eyes flickered over to Julian as if that were all she could hear.
I was no stranger to reading people—it sort of came with the territory as a journalist—and everything about Rona Rambles screamed jealousy, anger, and disgust…toward me.
“Yes, I met Wynn in a café in Lamdera the other day, and we hit it off.” Julian’s grin was almost predatory and as I glanced at his eyes, I almost gasped. There was a darkness to them.
“I see.” She slipped her hand out of my grasp. “Do you live on Lamdera?”
“Ha, no. I wish. I’m here on vacation.”
Her hostile stance deflated. “Oh, so not staying, then.”
Wow, she was a bit of a viper. I opened my mouth to answer, but Julian beat me to it.
“Perhaps I can convince him to stay longer.”
I laughed but couldn’t help the warm feeling that touched my heart when I realized he was serious.
There was a beat of silence until Rona butted back into the conversation. “Well, Your Highness, perhaps you’ll save me a dance.”
That was the moment I noticed an orchestra in the corner. It was small, but they were playing classical music, and it was beautiful.
“We shall see,” was all Julian said before gently tugging me along. “She’s a nightmare,” he whispered into my ear, making me shiver.
“I don’t think she liked me very much.”
He huffed. “That’s because her goal is to climb the ladder, and marrying me would get her as high as she could go.”
“Seriously? That’s gross. You’re a person with feelings.”
He stopped walking to regard me. “Kind of you to say, Wynn. But she’ll never achieve her goal.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
He smirked and leaned closer. “She doesn’t have the parts I desire…and she isn’t you.”
What the fuck was happening right now? I hadn’t even kissed this man, and he was acting as though I were his one and only. As sweet as it was, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to feeling slightly unsettled.
“Welcome, everyone, to the Crellesia State Dinner. I am Ferdinand Lovar, your host for the evening…” He went on to welcome everyone, especially the prince.
I zoned out, Julian’s words echoing through my head: “She isn’t you.” What did that mean? He’d only really spoken to me for a grand total of maybe two hours. There’d been no intimacy, nothing. How could he be so adamant that he wanted me for longer?
Julian’s attention was pulled in many directions, so I couldn’t ask him any of the questions whirling around in my head. I made pleasant conversation with a few people, and the whole time I felt someone burning a hole in the back of my head.
When I looked over my shoulder, I was met with the glare of Rona Rambles.