Her Undercover Prince Page 4

  For the life of her, she couldn’t remember why.

  One small part of her remembered it wasn’t in her life plan to marry someone on her father’s staff and that kissing someone she knew she couldn’t have a future with probably wasn’t a great idea.

  But she didn’t want to stop.

  Except he did.

  Dave rested his forehead on hers but didn’t let her go. “Care to explain, princess?”

  Jacqueline Grace forced herself to take a deep, if slightly shuddering, breath before answering. “Not really.” Because she didn’t understand it herself.

  “I kissed you.” His hands slid further around her waist. “You accused me of using the little girl I’m trying to adopt to get close to you. Then you kiss me?”

  She peeked up at him from under her lashes to see his eyes were closed.

  “You’re giving some seriously mixed signals here, princess.”

  It surprised her to realized she kind of liked it when he called her that. It sounded like a term of endearment, not a title or something more akin to a catcall. “I don’t mean to,” she told him, pulling herself out of his arms and crossing to the window. “I know you didn’t use Mary just to meet me.”

  “Don’t accuse me of something like that again,” he warned. “Pretty much everything about me is completely above board. I wouldn’t stoop to using a child.”

  “I know.” She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out the window toward Central Park.

  Before he could say anything else, a throat cleared behind them. She turned to see Tim in the doorway.

  “My apologies for disturbing you, Your Royal Highness, but you have dinner reservations this evening.”

  “I do?” She hadn’t heard about any plans. The girls would like one of the little hole-in-the-wall pizza places.

  “You both do. A restaurant recommended by the family that owns the apartment. Some friends of theirs own a restaurant nearby.”

  Jacqueline Grace glanced at Dave to find he was looking anywhere but at her. She sighed, knowing there was no choice. “Very well.”

  Dave finally turned to her. “I didn’t agree to what amounts to a date. If you’d like to go, feel free. I’m happy to stay with Kiara and Mary.”

  He kissed her, returned her kiss with equal fervor, but refused what he thought was a date? She didn’t understand men.

  “The young ladies will already be asleep, sir. You will be escorting the princess to dinner at eight-thirty.”

  Dave’s shoulders slumped in apparent resignation.

  “What kind of attire are we talking?”

  “Your assistant will take care of it for you, miss.” Tim bowed slightly and turned, walking away before either of them could protest further.

  Her assistant wasn’t supposed to come on this part of the trip. She was supposed to meet them in Ravenzario for a day before going on to Athmetis. She supposed her stylist was already off on a short holiday of her own before meeting up. At least they knew enough to trade off jobs somewhat, and Jacqueline Grace could handle her own hair and make-up for lower key events.

  Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, drawing her attention away from Dave and whatever conversation they didn’t need to have right now.

  “Kirsten is waiting for me.” She didn’t know why she told him, just that she needed a way out of the room. The office on the side of the apartment opposite her bedroom didn’t offer the same sweeping views of Central Park, but rather the southern tower of their building.

  “We’ve made some plans for you, miss. As long as you’re here, your father wants you to do a couple of things for him.” Kirsten launched into a list of activities that mostly seemed like tourist traps. The dinner later in the evening was the least touristy item on the list.

  “What’s the purpose of all of this?”

  “I believe your father wants to post it online, showing members of the family doing normal things, including waiting in line. It won’t be announced ahead of time but shown later. He wouldn’t want to compromise your security.”

  Of course not. “Fine, but no pictures that make it look like Dave and I are a couple. There will already be plenty of speculation just because he’s here with us.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jacqueline Grace sat behind the desk and pulled the tablet left there toward her. If her father was doing public relations with this trip, he should have emailed her more details.

  Several hours later, she wore a black wrap-around dress that hung just past her knees and slid her feet into black three-inch heels. Jacqueline Grace would have preferred flats, or even sparkly Converse, but no. A princess wore heels in nearly all situations. The beach where she met Dave was one of the few exceptions.

  “You almost ready, princess?” Dave walked out of the other half of the apartment, focused more on his cuff link than on her.

  The minute she saw him, Jacqueline Grace knew the suit was custom-tailored just for him, probably even handmade, not just tailored. The way the jacket fit his shoulders and the pants hit just right on his shoes, it couldn’t have been purchased off the rack. There wasn’t enough time for her father to have one made for him. That meant Dave already owned at least one suit that fit him perfectly.

  The mystery around him deepened.

  Not that she cared.

  He finally looked up, appreciation crossing his face. At least she knew she looked nice.

  “Let’s go.” She started for the door without waiting for him to follow.

  Tim waited just outside.

  “Where exactly are we going?” Dave asked as they started for the elevator.

  “Ollie’s. It’s a few blocks from here.”

  “Italian?” Dave observed as the doors slid open.

  “Yes. They serve traditional Italian fare but in an upscale environment. No small, pretentious servings, but pastas and breadsticks, and all that good stuff.”

  Jacqueline Grace followed them into the elevator then turned to look at the doors as they began their descent. Despite being on the floor labeled seventy-five, it was really the fifty-third floor. She didn’t understand why - or why Dave felt the need to mention that on the way up when they arrived.

  How did he know anyway?

  Once outside, Tim gave them directions as he walked slightly behind them.

  Jacqueline Grace walked straight ahead and hoped no one would recognize her. The last thing she needed was the world thinking she was dating a man she thought she could really fall for.

  At least not until she knew if he felt the same way - and if her father would approve of the match.

  An uneasy feeling settled in Dave’s stomach as soon as he heard what restaurant they were headed for. He’d heard of it, though he’d never eaten there. Italian wasn’t his favorite, but he’d make do.

  He wanted to offer his arm to Jacqueline Grace, but her posture made it clear that she wouldn’t welcome it. Instead, he tried to stay close to her with Tim just behind them both.

  When she stopped at the edge of a street to wait for the light, he finally reached her side. “We have reservations and plenty of time. You don’t have to run.”

  “I wasn’t running. If you can’t keep up, maybe you should stay home.”

  “Home is a little far away.”

  She glared sideways and up toward him. “You know what I mean.”

  He didn’t reply but followed her across the street as the light changed. A couple blocks down, they came to a stop in front of a nondescript door. Inside, it looked far more like the elegant restaurant he expected, but it was only a lobby area.

  Lush greenery filled the area. Enough seats for a dozen or so people were situated in intimate groups of two or three with plush chairs. Before he could, Jacqueline Grace approached the stand and informed the young woman who they were.

  A moment later, they were in a lift being whisked to the top floor where the doors opened into a large room reminiscent of the one downst
airs. The lighting - or lack of it - told him this was a restaurant designed for romance.

  Tim separated from them and went to the bar, sitting where he could see most of the room as well as the elevator and door to the stairs hidden around a corner.

  A young man led them to a table near a window overlooking Central Park. Dave managed to hold a chair for Jacqueline Grace before the other man could.

  Once seated, they looked over the menu, still without speaking.

  Finally, Dave broke the silence. “What looks good?”

  Jacqueline Grace flipped the page. “I think I’m going to get a salad and bucatini all'amatriciana. I haven’t had it in ages.”

  The waiter arrived with breadsticks and a bottle of wine to offer them. Dave kept his face partially turned, then spoke in rapid Italian, ordering a fiasco of the house Chianti, orecchiette alle cime di rapa for himself, and Jacqueline Grace’s meal as well.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever had orecchiette alle cime di rapa,” she said, sipping her water. “What is it?”

  “Short pasta with turnip-tops, anchovies, and olive oil. It’s my family’s favorite Italian dish.”

  Her nose wrinkled in a way Dave thought he could find very endearing. “Turnips? Really?”

  Dave chuckled. “I can definitely see the appeal of pasta with a sauce made from tomato, pancetta, onion, and chili pepper sauce instead of a turnip dish, but the orecchiette alle cime di rapa makes me think of home.”

  She took another sip of her wine. “You speak Italian very well. How many languages do you speak?”

  “Six fluently enough and a smattering of several others. I can find the bathroom, anyway.”

  “One more than me. Which ones?”

  “English, of course. Italian, French, Spanish, Russian, and Chinese. Some Korean, German, and a couple others.”

  “I don’t speak Russian or Chinese, but I can find my way around Scandanvia, more or less.”

  “Which language do you speak?” He picked up the glass of wine left by the waiter and took a sip.

  “Norwegian. Scandanavian languages have the same roots, though they’ve diverged over the years. In a lot of ways, they’re more like dialects than truly different languages. I met a couple from Germany once. He spoke Norwegian, and she spoke Swedish. On public transportation, they would speak those languages so no one could understand them. They understood each other well enough to carry on full conversations.”

  He started to tell her he thought that was ace, but the waiter arrived with their salads. They didn’t talk as they ate. Dave knew they had a few minutes before their entrees arrived so he took a chance.

  “Would you like to dance?”

  Jacqueline Grace’s wine glass paused part way to her lips. “No. Thank you. I don’t think I would.” She took a sip and set the glass back down.

  Not the answer he’d been expecting.

  Not an answer he’d ever been given before.

  Dave stared out over the park. He wasn’t sure how he’d expected this evening to go, but this wasn’t it. Of course, he hadn’t had much time to dream up those expectations since the dinner had been sprung on them.

  “How do you think the girls are doing?” she asked.

  “I would imagine they’re sound asleep by now.” Though they hadn’t gone back outside since the creeper freaked Jacqueline Grace out, the little girls had run giggling around the apartment. The space was big enough for little legs to stretch as much as they wanted. They’d worn themselves ragged and would sleep well.

  “You don’t think they’ll give the staff a hard time? Be too excited about sleeping together to actually sleep?”

  Dave shrugged as a gentleman across the room caught his eye and raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing around his lips. Dave turned his attention back to the park. “They might have, but I doubt they had the energy.”

  Their entrees arrived sooner than Dave expected. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, the smell taking him back to Sunday dinners with his family.

  “You’ve never said much about your family.” Jacqueline Grace used her fork and spoon to wind the pasta.

  “We’ve known each other three days, princess.” He tried to contain his feelings on the matter and thought he did a good job hiding them. “When would we have talked about my family?” Before she could answer he went on. “But because I know you want to know... I have two older brothers, two younger brothers, and a younger sister. They’re all back home, and no, I don’t talk to any of them regularly.”

  He hadn’t talked to any of them in over a year.

  Which made the man across the restaurant extra dangerous.

  The walk back to the apartment was quieter than the walk there, thanks in large part to less traffic on the streets, though there was still plenty.

  Jacqueline Grace found herself wishing she’d taken Dave up on his offer to dance. Conflicting emotions warred within her. She’d liked the kisses. A lot. But she couldn’t have a future with Dave, despite her father sending him on this trip with her. There was no point in getting attached when it couldn’t turn into anything more.

  They reached the apartment elevators and waited for the attendant to summon one.

  In the apartment, Kirsten waited for her with a tablet in hand.

  “What other changes have been made to the schedule?” Jacqueline Grace wanted nothing more than to slip her shoes off and soak in the tub in her room, but that wasn’t going to happen with Dave around.

  “The show scheduled for Wednesday is now a matinee. Your father suggested it because he thought the girls would love to see the fireworks shot off from Central Park for the annual Independence Day celebration.”

  Jacqueline Grace nodded. “I would imagine we would be about eye level for those, correct?”

  “I believe so. You will still leave overnight, if you wish, or you could stay another day and leave the next evening. It’s quite possible traffic will be much worse after the fireworks on the Fourth. It has been suggested that you and Mr. Smith might like to take in a production of Wicked on Thursday. Security and the girls would pick you up from the theater and go straight to the airport for an overnight flight. During the day, you would visit Liberty and Ellis Islands for those photo opportunities we discussed.”

  “Sure.” What was another day? She’d spend it with Dave anyway, just in New York instead of Ravenzario. Maybe in Ravenzario, at the much larger beach house belonging to the Mevendians, she’d be able to avoid him a bit better, though. Really, once they left the States, she shouldn’t have to see him much at all. She’d sleep on the flight, avoid him in Ravenzario, and she’d be doing diplomatic things in Athmetis while he’d be with the children.

  “Your father has also developed an itinerary for your time in Ravenzario, for a similar purpose as the one here in New York, though you’ll also be doing some volunteering at a local orphanage on the island.” Kirsten hesitated. “With the girls’ histories, it seemed like a fitting place.”

  Her weariness increasing with every word, Jacqueline Grace could do little more than nod. So much for her holiday where she did little more than nap on the beach and read a few books. “I’m going to turn in. We can discuss it more in the morning.”

  Kirsten looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead simply nodded. “Yes, miss.”

  Jacqueline Grace forced herself to stay in her shoes as she walked down the hallway to her room. She met Dave as he emerged from the girls’ room.

  “They’re sound asleep,” he told her quietly.

  “I figured as much when they weren’t jumping on the couches when we arrived.” She brushed past him toward her own door. “I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll have Kirsten send you our updated itinerary.”

  He snagged her arm, swinging her around to face him. “Are we going to talk about what happened today?”

  She managed to maintain her composure and raise a single eyebrow. “What about today?”

  Dave took half a step closer, al
l he needed to do to bring her in contact with him. “About that kiss. Those kisses.”

  She stared straight up at him, a tight grip on her internal swoon. “There’s nothing to discuss. They were quite nice, but you and I both know this can’t go anywhere, so there’s little to no point in tormenting either of us.”

  “Why?”

  “Why wouldn’t we want to torment ourselves? Is that really a question you need to ask?”

  “No. Why can’t this go anywhere?”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “Because I’m a princess, and you’re my father’s valet, his assistant valet. As much as you and I would like to spend the next few weeks pretending it doesn’t matter, you and I both know it does.”

  “Your sister married an out-of-work surfie. Your brother married a part-time yarn store employee from another country. Why wouldn’t you be able to have a relationship with me?”

  Her shoulders sagged. “My father was forced into both of those.” And into Esther’s marriage, but at least that was to a prince, albeit one from Eyjania. “When Astrid and Jordan were caught making out on the beach, combined with the photo of her wearing an heirloom engagement ring and a photo of Jordan with Sofia, they had no choice but to marry. And Kensington married Anabelle without telling any of us about it.”

  “And you’re not going to defy your father’s wishes if he doesn’t want you to marry someone.” The resignation in Dave’s voice matched her own.

  “I can’t.” Her head dropped until her chin nearly touched her chest.

  Dave’s finger crooked underneath it, and he tilted her chin back up until she could see his eyes. She couldn’t quite read what was written there. What, beyond sorrow, lurked there?

  He leaned down and kissed her softly. Her senses were overwhelmed by him. His smell. His feel. How his arms felt when they wrapped around her and held her close to him. Her hands slid under that custom suit coat until they were pressed against the muscles of his back.

  Soft turned a little more intense, but he kept himself under tight control. That was confirmed when his lips released hers.