10. Claire
CLAIRE
C laire looked at the prince in confusion. She didn’t understand what he meant — she didn’t understand how he could suggest what he was suggesting. It was madness. Was he really going to finance a restaurant for her based on a few days’ worth of cooking?
“Your Highness…” she began, even as the prince reached across the table and took her hand in his.
“Listen to me,” he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I want you to have your restaurant, but there’s something I want you to do for me.”
Claire didn’t know what to think — was he proposing something indecent?
There’d been propositions in the past — guests of Mr. Bellagio who’d thought it their right to slip their arm around Claire’s waist and draw her into their embrace.
But the prince wasn’t like that, whatever the media might say about him.
He’d had ample opportunity for such a proposition, but his behavior had always been impeccable.
“But what? I don’t understand,” she said.
“You know what they’re writing about me — the playboy prince.
I need to put an end to that, and I need to satisfy my parents, too.
If only for a while. I’m asking you to pretend to be my betrothed — to be engaged to me.
We can go back to Flandenne, you can have your restaurant, and we’ll make it known we’re engaged to be married.
Once you’re established, it can all quietly disappear — we’ll say there was a disagreement, no scandal. ”
For a moment, Claire didn’t know whether to laugh or stare at him in disbelief. It was an extraordinary idea, and yet, in knowing what she now knew about him, there was obviously a sense of desperate times and desperate measures.
“You want us to pretend we’re getting married?” she said, repeating his words lest she’d been dreaming.
He nodded, looking hopefully at her, as he clasped her hand in his. His hand was warm, his grasp firm but gentle. His touch had sent a shiver running through her, and gazing into his eyes, she saw both hopefulness and sincerity. He was serious.
“I know it sounds incredible, but yes… that’s just what I want. Think about it, Claire. It’ll solve both our problems. You’ll have your restaurant, and I’ll have my respectability back. They’ll leave me alone if they think I’m going to be married and settle down.”
Claire didn’t know what to say. It seemed so incredible, and yet an opportunity she could hardly turn down.
“Well… but won’t there be interest in me? I’m just a chef. Can a crown prince really marry a cook from a yacht?”
“Perhaps not in previous years, but now… I don’t see why not.
Besides, no one need know anything about you.
Let them speculate. If the tabloids look down on you, it’ll show them for what they are — only interested in vacuous celebrities with nothing about them except money and reality-show demeanors.
” Claire wondered if he was referring to the princess from Le Paradis .
“Let them think what they want. Why can’t a person with ambition and dreams marry a prince?
For that matter, why can’t a prince marry a person with ambition and dreams? ”
It was the most extraordinary offer Claire had ever received. Period. The very thought of it was extraordinary, like some kind of modern fairytale — rags to riches. But the prince was serious. His offer was genuine, and now Claire had to decide what to do.
“Can I… think about it?” she said, for there were so many thoughts going through her mind — so many questions.
The prince nodded. “You have to, of course. But please… don’t take long about it. I’ll have to go back soon. I can’t stay on this yacht forever, as much as I’d like to. I want to step off board in Monaco and show the world my new future.”
Claire had butterflies in her stomach. To be thrust into the spotlight in such a way, and to know her life would change forever…
“I’ll think about it tonight… later… I’ll tell you,” she stammered, just as footsteps from the galley announced the return of Anton.
The prince withdrew his hand, and Claire rose to her feet, making a pretense of clearing away the empty ramekins. Anton glared at her.
“Anna-Marie needs you in the kitchen,” he hissed, as he poured the prince another glass of wine.
As she went down from the deck, Claire was overwhelmed by the thought of what had just happened and paused for a moment to catch her breath.
The crown prince of Flandenne had just asked her — the chef on the yacht he was taking refuge on — to pretend to be engaged to him in return for a restaurant of her own.
The implications were extraordinary. It would mean leaving everything behind and beginning again.
For a moment, it was all Claire could do to stand in disbelief, shaking her head as though she was in a dream.
It’s just extraordinary. I don’t know what to do.
To say yes would mean living a lie — if only for a while — but to say no would mean denying herself her dream. She’d said herself it was an impossibility alone, but with the prince’s help, there was no reason why she shouldn’t realize that dream.
And it’s not as if I’ve got roots here. I can go where I choose.
Claire wasn’t wedded to one particular part of Europe. She’d always gone where the work was, and Flandenne was well known for its picturesque qualities and high standards of living. A restaurant there was as good as a restaurant anywhere.
“Are you going to do any work tonight, or am I going to wash all these pots and pans myself?” Anna-Marie said, emerging from the kitchen with a glare on her face.
“Sorry, I’m coming,” Claire said, hurrying into the galley.
But her mind was elsewhere — on the prince, and his remarkable proposal.
“I’ve put out the breakfast things. Everything’s ready. I’m going to bed,” Anna-Marie said, as Claire finished wiping down the countertops.
“Get some rest. We’ve had a long day,” Claire replied.
Anna-Marie paused in the doorway, looking back at Claire with a pitying look. “I don’t know why you’re playing up to him. He’s not interested in you .”
Claire made no reply. She knew differently, even as she was holding back from giving the prince her answer.
She wanted to say yes, and yet doubts were creeping over her, too.
What was his real motivation? And how would he treat her once they were away from the yacht?
She hardly knew him, and yet he was asking her to trust him with the most extraordinary proposal — literally, a proposal.
“Good night, Anna-Marie,” Claire said, not wanting to fight again before bed.
She made herself a cup of coffee — a bad habit when it came to sleep, but Claire wasn’t yet ready to go to bed.
She’d promised the prince an answer, and, waiting until Anton, too, had gone to his cabin, she made her way up on deck.
It was a bright, starry night, with the moon almost full, and casting its silvery glow across the waters.
Waves were lapping gently on the beach, and the sea was calm.
The deck was deserted, but a light was coming from the prince’s cabin.
Taking a deep breath, Claire knocked gently at the door.
“I’m all right, Grieg. You can go to bed,” the prince’s voice came from inside.
“It’s Claire,” she whispered, hoping no one else would hear — the yacht was big, but not that big.
A moment later, the door opened and the prince appeared, dressed only in a silk nightgown with his monogram embroidered on the breast. Claire could see his chest hair beneath, and she blushed, turning away, even as he beckoned her inside.
“Please, come in. I was just having a drink.”
Claire had only been in Mr. Bellagio’s cabin once — when Anna-Marie had fallen ill and she’d been the one to serve tea to her employer and his guests.
It was finely furnished, with maps and charts, and the ship’s wheel by the window.
The bed was unmade, and it seemed the prince had been sprawled there amid the mess of sheets and pillows.
A glass of cognac stood on the bedside table, and there was a large box of chocolates, too — open, and half of them eaten.
“You wanted me to give you an answer as soon as possible,” Claire said, as he closed the door behind her. Her heart was beating fast, and she was wondering what he was thinking — what he was expecting.
“I don’t want to pressure you, but… yes… I want to know. But I don’t want you to make a hasty decision.”
Claire took a deep breath. She’d thought of nothing else since he’d spoken of it earlier.
“It’s always been my dream to have my own restaurant. I didn’t think I would. I thought it was a hopeless fantasy. But if you really mean it… then I’ll do it.”
“Never pass up an opportunity,” — that’s what Claire’s dad had always said.
Opportunities could appear when least you expected them, and this was surely the opportunity of a lifetime.
How could she refuse such an offer, even as the second part of the deal seemed quite extraordinary.
But that was the payoff, and if a few photographs and fancy dinners meant realizing her dream, then so be it.
The prince looked pleased — relieved, almost. “How happy I am to hear you say it. I thought perhaps I’d said something out of line. Thank you,” he said, taking her hands in his.
Alone in his cabin, there was sense of intimacy between them, such as Claire hadn’t felt before.
There was no one to interrupt them. The boat was quiet.
It was past midnight now. The others would be in bed below deck, far out of earshot.
The lighting was warm and low, and the moonlight on the waters, visible through the cabin windows, cast an ethereal glow.
He was smiling at her, drawing closer as now she looked up at him and smiled.
“The pretending won’t be hard, will it?” she asked, for she really didn’t know what would be involved.
He shook his head and smiled. “We can make it look right, I’m sure. But… we’ve become friends, haven’t we? It doesn’t need to be strained. Can’t we… enjoy the fact, too?”
Claire blushed. He was so handsome, and there was an assuredness about him. He made her feel confident. The way he’d believed in her, and was now trusting her with something so important. No one else had ever behaved like this towards her. He made her feel special.
“I think so,” she said, as he raised his hand and brushed the hair back from her cheek.
His fingers played across her skin, sending a shiver running through her as she looked up at him and smiled. Should they really be doing this? After all, if it was meant only as a ruse…
“I know so. We can both have our dreams, can’t we? The freedoms we both want.”
“As long as you really mean it. I can’t just leave everything and be left with nothing,” Claire said, clutching at the last thoughts of practicality, even as she was caught up in the dream that was now coming true.
“I promise you I mean it,” he whispered, and, leaning forward, he kissed her gently on the lips, slipping his arm around her as he did so.
Claire closed her eyes, caught up in the moment — the unexpected climax to an unexpected evening. As their lips parted, she breathed a deep sigh. It was all for show — she knew that — and yet there was no one there to see, and the feelings that now welled up inside her were very real indeed.
“Then so do I,” she replied, as opening her eyes, she gazed into his, and their lips met in another kiss.