Paris and the Prince (Royal Weddings 1) - Page 11

Catriona looked at Celia, and she could tell they were both thinking the same thing.

Alex never looked happy. Dutiful, strained, and put-upon, yes. Polite, bored, distracted, and diplomatic, yes. But happy? Euphoric? Never.

But he did in these pictures.

When Cat started reading the article, she felt her stomach drop. She could practically hear the phone ringing in her husband's office.

Parisians were shocked today when they saw Prince Alexander of Dalvana snuggling up to a woman who WASN'T his royal fiancée, Whitney Bishop-St.Claire of Estia. Spotted in the famous Jardin des Plantes, the popular prince was seen embracing a mysterious woman with an American accent.

Prince Alexander's actual fiancée, Whitney Bishop-St.Claire, is also currently in Paris for the premiere of her first clothing line at Fashion Week. Word from the scene is that the line was a huge hit and attended by some of the most popular fashion insiders!

We've reached out to the Royal Family of Dalvana for comment and haven't heard back... More news as it develops.

Catriona set the tablet on her lap and looked up at Celia with a look of pure exhaustion.

“Is any of this true? Did anyone contact us for comment?”

Celia shook her head sadly.

“I haven't heard anything. And I put in a call to the press secretary to see if they know anything about this woman. They are scrambling to find out whatever they can.”

Cat stood up from her vanity and wrapped her silk robe around her shoulders as she began to leave the room. Celia chased after her immediately, but Catriona held up her hand to stop her.

“I'm going to talk to my husband. You should stay here. It's not going to be pretty.”

* * *

Paris took in a deep, long breath of the delicious sea air, and she felt her head begin to swim with the luxuriousness of it. Even with her hair wrapped in a luxurious silk scarf, she could feel of the wind whipping around her as the Audi R8 convertible sped down quaint seaside roads made her feel as if she were in an old movie, a romance of which she was the star in spite of her humble beginnings. Even as Paris thought back to the events that lead her to this moment, they felt so foreign, she could scarcely believe it, as if she were leading someone else's life.

After Alex and Paris had left the botanical gardens and returned to the hotel to get ready for dinner, Alex had come out of the bedroom with his phone in his hand and a funny look on his face. Despite the fact that she was sipping from a wide-rimmed glass of brandy, something about the panic in his eyes... it made her own stomach flip-flop in a way that was entirely foreign to her.

Paris was used to the panic she felt before a big exam or a practical lab experiment, but getting stressed out over a man was well-beyond her standard emotional capabilities. Yet, looking at Alex, holding his phone, clearly wracked with fear, Paris felt sick.

But then, Alex took a deep breath, and smiled that dazzling smile at Paris, sending all of her worries flittering away from her mind. Alex walked over, poured himself a brandy, then sat down next to Paris on the plush couch.

“So, I have a kind of crazy proposition for you. I just got a call that my services are needed in Arcachon. It's a small seaside city near Bordeaux. Would you... be interested in accompanying me there? Just for a day or two? We'd be back in plenty of time for you to make your classes. We don't even have to take a plane. It's only a five hour drive from here.”

The excitement in Paris' eyes and pure happiness in her smile filled Alex with a guilt that he couldn't have expressed with words, even if he'd been able to share everything with her.

When Alex had returned to his phone, there was just enough battery power left for him to read an email from Whitney...

You bastard.

The show was a disaster.

I don't know where you are, but I will find you if I have to go to every hotel in Paris and threaten every bastard concierge from one end of the city to another.

You are going to pay for this, Alexander. And I don't mean with money.

~W

Alex didn't know much about Whitney, but he knew one thing: she didn't bluff. She was probably already tearing her way across Paris, leaving a trail of terrified service industry workers in her wake. It wouldn't be long before she darkened the doorstep of the Manoir, and it wouldn't matter how much Alex attempted to bribe the hotel staff with... Whitney's rage was a far more effective truth serum than any amount of money Alex could shell out.

So, staying was not an option. However, the Lennox family had long been in possession of many different properties throughout Europe, and it just so happened that one home was in Arcachon, a conveniently located short drive away from Paris, away from Whitney and her anger.

But now, with the brilliant sun setting, illuminating the sky in the most gorgeous shades of pink and orange, turning the water a perfect shade of purple, Alex felt his panic melting away. Paris had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, so she didn't see the small placard at the end of driveway bearing the family name...

La Villa Lennox, PRIVÉ

Alex punched eight numbers into the code box, opening a massive iron gate, as if it were waving “hello” to an old friend. The crunch of the gravel under the Audi roused Paris from her slumber, and she yawned and stretched as the villa came into view. Even through her sleepy eyes, what she saw, bathed in setting sunlight, took her breath away...

15

The house, if you could even call it just a “house,” was like nothing Paris had ever seen in her life. It almost looked like a miniaturized castle, covered top to bottom in soft white stones, and peppered with huge windows, each with its own tiled mosaic decorating it. A tower on the right side of the house featured floor-to-ceiling windows, each with their own balcony. In fact, the whole house was covered in balconies, all of which had their own different views of the ocean or the villa's natural swimming pool, or the gorgeous grassy acres of wooded land.

From the driveway, Paris could just make out the canopied outdoor bed, which overlooked the pool. When Paris went to speak, she was worried that she might not be able to form proper words.

“Alex... this place... it's like a dream! How do you... What are we even doing here?”

Alex put the car in park and jumped out of the R8, hoping to deflect any other questions as he mumbled, “Oh, you know how it is. Family, friends... whatnot.”

No, she thought wryly, I most defini

tely do NOT know…

Paris tried to argue, but she was still too in awe of everything around them to think up the right phrases. She just crawled out of the car and stared up, jaw agape, at the house. With both of their bags slung over his shoulder, Alex walked up beside Paris and took her hand in his own.

“It's getting pretty cold out here. Would you like to go inside? Maybe start a fire? Or we can just stand out here all night, if you'd prefer.”

Paris gently punched Alex's shoulder before he leaned over and kissed her softly on the cheek. Paris was still so distracted by the beauty of the house's facade that she barely noticed as Alex unlocked the front door and punched in an elaborate alarm code. It wasn't until Alex pulled her inside the house that she became aware of how completely different the internal design of the house was from the outside.

The furniture and art were modern and bright, dazzling shades of teal and brown that set off the beautiful hardwood floors. Soft grey curtains accented every window, giving the main rooms a cozy warmth that Paris wanted to melt into.

As Alex set down the bags and went about lighting the two main fireplaces in the living room, Paris began exploring the rest of the downstairs. First, she wandered into the kitchen, a wide-open space with a dual-view fireplace and sparkling stainless steel appliances. Large double windows with weathered shutters flung open filled the spaces over the sink and stove, bathing the room in the soft light of the setting sun that was reflecting off the ocean.

Next, Paris found herself in a magnificent library. Built-in mahogany bookshelves took up every space on the wall, except for the area occupied by a gorgeous marble fireplace and one huge window, which looked out over the lawn.

Tags: Mia Caldwell Royal Weddings Billionaire Romance
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