11. Adrien
ADRIEN
O pening his eyes, Adrien rolled over to find the bed empty. Sitting up, he looked around him. Claire was gone. He smiled to himself, lying back on the bed and gazing up at the ceiling above. It had been quite a night.
She’s probably worried someone saw her.
Yawning, he stretched out, thinking back to the events of the previous night — to what he’d asked of Claire and what she’d agreed to.
It had been a risk, of course. She could so easily have turned him down, or, worse, threatened to sell the story to the newspapers — “Playboy prince in proposition scandal.” But she hadn’t. Instead, she’d agreed.
“She actually agreed,” he said out loud, laughing at the very thought of it, even as he knew what it meant.
The yacht was to return to Monaco that day, and the cares of the world would be waiting.
But something had changed — a lot had changed.
It felt as though a burden had been lifted, though what was to come still held its challenges.
Adrien would have to explain to his parents why he was so suddenly engaged and why they’d never heard the name Claire Bellamy pass his lips before.
He’d say they’d kept the matter secret for fear of publicity, and that the yacht had been the place to make absolutely certain of their feelings for one another.
Perhaps that’s a bit far…
Nevertheless, what had happened the previous night had certainly been real.
It had taken Adrien by surprise — how natural it had seemed.
The kiss. The softness of her lips, the gentleness of her touch, that sweet caress.
He hadn’t meant it to happen, but it had.
It made him smile just thinking about it.
Getting up, he crossed to the cabin window, gazing out at ?le Sainte-Marguerite — the unexpected location of his salvation.
For that was what it was. Claire’s promise meant he’d be taken seriously from now on.
No more rumors, no more speculation, no more lies written about him.
He was engaged — betrothed in the formal language of the court.
It felt good, and he hoped the show would be enough to prove he was no longer the person he’d once been.
But it can’t last. I suppose there’ll be a quiet separation. There’ll be sympathy for us.
Dismissing this thought, he showered and dressed before stepping out on deck.
The yacht was now maneuvering from its mooring to put out to sea.
Adrien watched as the island grew smaller, before sitting down to breakfast, and glancing hopefully at the door leading down to the galley.
To his disappointment, it was the maid who appeared with his coffee.
He smiled at her, wondering if she had any inkling of what had passed between him and Claire the previous evening.
“Your coffee, Your Highness,” she said, setting down the pot.
“Thank you. Would you ask the chef to come up, please? I want to discuss the arrangements for lunch.”
The maid nodded, though she looked sulky at the request, and disappeared below deck. A moment later, Claire appeared, smiling as she set down a dish of sliced pineapple and kiwi fruit.
“You wanted to see me,” she said, blushing under his gaze.
Adrien smiled at her. “I didn’t realize you’d left until I woke up,” he whispered.
“I’m going to speak to Giuseppe today. He’ll be angry, I’m sure, but let me deal with him.
We can go straight to Flandenne. I was planning to fly from Monaco this evening.
” He hoped she hadn’t changed her mind. Was there a look of doubt in her eyes? “You do still want to come, don’t you?”
Claire glanced towards the steps leading below deck, nodding, as Adrien breathed a sigh of relief.
“I didn’t sleep at all last night. I was thinking it over. I don’t know… well, I’m sure we can make it work. But I know if I don’t take the chance then it won’t come again. As long as you’re certain, too.”
Adrien nodded. “I was the one who asked. It’ll be all right, I promise.
I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t think you could do it.
I want to help you achieve your dreams. You can cook, Claire.
I’ve never eaten so well in all my life.
Everything you’ve made… it’s all been delicious.
You’ll have the best restaurant in Flandenne.
And people are going to come to it because they’ll read about us, and see you cooking, and… I’m really grateful to you.”
Claire smiled. “It’s me that should be grateful to you, I…” she began, but she was interrupted by the return of the maid, who started clearing the table noisily.
Claire excused herself, and Adrien rose, watching as the yacht sped along the coast back towards Monaco.
It had been a trip full of surprises, and though he knew it was all an act, there was something real about it, too.
The memory of the kiss they’d shared — of the night they’d spent together — lingered, and it made Adrien wonder what was to come.
“You want to do what? Adrien, that’s… Are you mad? You’ve only known her a few days. I lend you my yacht, and I come back to find you engaged to my chef?” Giuseppe exclaimed, staring incredulously at Adrien, who’d just told him of his engagement to Claire.
For the charade to work, no one else — not even Giuseppe — could know the truth.
Adrien had learned the value of keeping quiet when it came to personal matters.
He’d explained how he and Claire had gotten to know one another over their shared love of food, and how their feelings for one another had grown strong amid the confines of the yacht. Why should it come as such a surprise?
“She’s a remarkable woman,” Adrien replied.
“She’s a cook. You can’t marry a cook,” Giuseppe said, raising his hands in a gesture of astonishment.
Adrien shrugged. “Why not? What do you know about it?”
Giuseppe uttered an expletive under his breath. “You’re just… what have your parents said about this?”
Adrien was yet to inform the king and queen of his return to Flandenne with his future bride. They’d be surprised, of course — perhaps even angry. But no one would be able to deny the respectability of the matter. Wasn’t it the most ordinary thing in the world for two people to fall in love?
“I don’t care what they say. They’ll be happy I’m getting married. Isn’t that what matters?” Adrien asked.
The yacht had docked in Monaco half an hour previously.
Giuseppe had been waiting for them, greeting Adrien as though he’d just returned from a round-the-world expedition.
But his exuberance had soon changed when Adrien had told him of his and Claire’s plans.
She was already packing, and Janssen would shortly arrive in the Bentley to take them to the airport for the flight to Flandenne.
“And what am I to do? What am I to eat?” Giuseppe demanded.
Adrien smiled. “You could always go to Le Paradis , ” he replied.
Giuseppe gave him a withering look, but with Adrien having offered buy out Claire’s notice period, there was really no further objection to be made.
“Well, it’s certainly a step up from life in the galley,” Giuseppe said, as they made their way out on deck.
The skipper was there, along with the steward and the maid, who looked even more put out than usual.
From below deck, Claire now appeared, clutching a carry-on.
She’d changed out of her chef’s whites into a blue summer dress that highlighted her pretty figure as it caught the breeze.
She’d wrapped a headscarf over her head and was wearing sunglasses.
It was a beautiful sight — like something from Hollywood, an effortless glamor Adrien couldn’t help but find attractive.
Grieg was waiting at the bottom of the gangplank, and the Bentley had just driven up at the marina, eliciting interested looks from locals and tourists alike.
“Are you ready?” Adrien asked, smiling at Claire, who nodded.
“I think so. I really didn’t have much to pack,” she replied. “I’ve left everything as it should be. Dinner’s prepared — Anna-Marie just has to heat it up — and there’s dessert in the refrigerator.”
At these words, the maid pouted. “She’s leaving us high and dry, Mr. Bellagio,” she blurted out.
Giuseppe ignored her, holding out his hand to Claire and smiling. “I’m going to miss you. But it won’t be the last time I see you. I’m often in Flandenne to check up on this one,” he said, glancing at Adrien and grinning.
“I hope I haven’t left you in the lurch,” Claire said, but her employer shook his head.
“No… but I won’t be going to Milan next time you use my yacht. I don’t want to come back and find the rest of them leaving, too.”
Adrien smiled, holding out his hand to direct Claire to the gangplank.
“Goodbye, everyone,” Claire said, glancing at the other staff, who were standing stony-faced watching her departure.
Adrien knew they resented her — it was natural.
The maid was probably wondering why it wasn’t her about to step into the Bentley.
But in Claire, Adrien had seen a spark — one that was rare in the sort of woman he’d previously been expected to date.
She was no carbon copy. She had drive and ambition, hopes and dreams. It made Adrien smile to think she’d soon be the most talked about woman in Flandenne — and further afield, too.
“Goodbye, Giuseppe, and thanks — you saved me,” Adrien said, turning to embrace his friend, who shook his head and laughed.
“You seem to have done a good job of that yourself. Look after her, though — and don’t let this one go.”
As Adrien descended the gangplank, he saw several men watching from across the strip.
They had mopeds, and cameras slung around their necks — paparazzi.
But today, Adrien didn’t need to hide, and as he and Claire approached the Bentley, he slipped his arm around her waist, smiling, as the shutters clicked towards them.
“Are they taking photos?” Claire asked, sounding somewhat disbelieving, as though she hadn’t realized how immediate the interest in her would be.
“That’s right. And they’ll go on taking photos all the way to the airport.”
Jenssen opened the door for them, and Adrien helped Claire into the plush interior of the car. A bottle of champagne was chilling in an ice bucket, and behind the blacked-out windows, Adrien sank back into the seat next to Claire and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I didn’t think they’d be waiting there… I thought we’d get to Flandenne without being seen,” Claire said, as Adrien offered her a glass of champagne.
It shouldn’t have felt normal to him, and he was reminded of how alien this world must seem to Claire, who’d never experienced the pressures of the limelight before.
“I can’t go anywhere without being seen. But you’ll get used to it. I promise. I know it seems strange now, but give it time. You’re going to be on the cover of every magazine and newspaper from here to New York — and further.”
Claire shook her head. “It feels like a dream. And you’re sure you want this?
You’re going to have to help. I’ll probably get everything wrong.
What are we going to say about how we met and who I am?
Are we going to tell them the truth about my being a chef?
I suppose we’ll have to if I’m to open a restaurant. ”
Adrien had poured the champagne, and he passed a glass to Claire, as the car purred gently through the streets of Monaco towards the airport, which lay some twenty kilometers from the principality near Nice.
“There’s no shame in it. We’ll tell them the truth. Besides, why shouldn’t a prince marry Flandenne’s first Michelin-starred chef?” he asked.
Claire laughed. “Well… I haven’t got there yet. But you never know. Perhaps that’s the next dream.”
“I’ll toast to that,” Adrien said, raising his glass, and feeling hopeful as to what was to come.