“Your Royal Highness.” She released him, a warm blush creeping across her cheeks. “W-what are you doing here?”
Really? After eighteen years? He still made her blush?
“Shhh. Don’t give me away.” He put his back to the beach, to Leslie Ann and Ella, and positioned Daffy in front of him. “I’m an American named Pete George. Are you sure you’re all right? You look flushed.”
“I’m fine.” Daffy rubbed her hand over the rosy warmth. “Your Highness, you’re not an American. You’re Prince Augustus Carwyn George of Lauchtenland’s House of Blue.”
“Yes, of course, of course, but for now… Say, remember when we used to play pirate in the crow’s nest at Hadsby?”
“Once. I only went to Hadsby two summers.” When Mum was the queen’s secretary.
“I was Pirate Pete.”
“And now you’re American Pete?”
He tipped his head slightly toward Leslie Ann and Ella. “Is that your party there? Please tell me that is not Leslie Ann Parker.” His American accent was brilliant. Perfect.
“That’s not Leslie Ann Parker, sir. Pete.” She leaned close, catching more of his clean scent. “But it is.”
Now that she was face-to-face with him, she saw everything about his appearance that made him Prince Gus. Above his beard and tanned cheeks sat a pair of unmistakable cerulean blue eyes. They were jewels mounted into a smooth piece of gleaming and golden wood.
His smile, which he’d not flashed at her quite yet, was perfection. Before the media dubbed him “Prince Pathetic” and “Prince of the Heartbreak”—or was it “King of the Heartbreak”—he was Prince Charming. The prince with the world-famous smile. It was more than his white, even teeth or full lips. It was something beyond the physical. Something true, in his heart.
“Don’t give me away, Daffy, please.”
“To Leslie Ann? She’s harmless, really. I’m sure she wouldn’t—”
“Daffy. I’ve managed a year on this quiet, private beach without press or paparazzi. The respite has nearly restored my lost dignity. I can hold my head up when I return home for John’s wedding.”
“I’m so glad you’re going home.”
“Of course. Why would I not?”
“I don’t know… I suppose we all wondered.” She locked eyes with him once again. It was him. Her prince. “I’m sure if you just said hello, she’d—”
“Have me splashed all over the news within an hour. When and if I ever go to the press again, I want it to be on my terms, with my story. Can you understand? I beg of you, keep my secret. For old times’ sake. For the laughter we shared as children.”
“Then I will. Whatever you ask.” She glanced around Prince Gus again to see Les and Ella bottoms down on their chairs, white legs stretched across the beige beach. “They’re not watching. So…this is where you’ve been hiding for the last year?” She kept her voice low. “Your American accent is astounding. I would’ve never recognized you had you not looked right at me.”
“A mate from uni offered me his beach house here, and after a week I landed a job, if you can believe it, and decided to stay awhile.”
“You’ve changed.” Her gaze drifted down to his toned legs and up again. He caught her perusal, and her face tingled again with heat. She never blushed. Never. Except around this man. “I mean, before…after Lady Robbi, you were, well—”
“Portly? Pathetic? King of the Heartbreak?” He scratched Adler behind the ears. She sighed and lay down by Daffy’s feet again. “Gained two stones?”
“I never said those things. I never even thought them.”
“Maybe not, but they were headlines. Almost daily. I did eat my way through two devastating breakups. I admit it. Then I arrived here and found some inner strength.”
“You look, um, well… Good for you, sir. Pete.”
“Daff, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Leslie Ann called from her chair.
“Shake my hand.” Prince Gus slipped his hand into hers, his skin warm. “Pat the dog’s head and I’ll be off. Tell them I was inquiring about your cottage. Possible future rental. Actually, it is quite lovely.” He peered at her for a long moment, then in a surprise of tenderness, brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. “Be careful. I think you’re burning. The winter sun is deceiving.”
With a whistle to the dog, he was off, and this time Adler loped along behind him. Ella and Les peeked around their chairs to watch him leave.
Daffy tried to move, but her legs wobbled. She took a deep breath and collected herself. Guard up, or Leslie Ann would know something was amiss.
But goodness. Prince Gus. Here. On this beach. She pressed her palm to her cheek still warm from his touch.
Shake it off. She wasn’t a girl running ’round the castle with a crush on her friend. She was an adult. Mature. Practically spoken for by another. Note to self: Confirm with Thomas that we are officially a couple.
“Here we are.” Daffy handed out the snacks then headed for the water. “Thomas texted he wanted pictures.”
“Who were you talking to for so long?”
“Just a bloke who thought he might rent the cottage next year. The dog was sweet.”
“A long conversation for ‘Hello, is this cottage suitable?’” Just as Daffy feared, Leslie Ann’s reporter radar was honing in.
“I asked about his dog.” Daffy snapped another picture. Her face should be back to normal by now. “I love golden retrievers.”
“Why is your face all blotchy?” Leslie Ann squinted at Daffy as she twisted the cap from a bottle of water.
“I’m hot. All that running to the cottage and back.” Daffy gave Ella the sister eye.
Change the conversation.
“All that running? It’s what, twenty yards? Please.”
“Ella, what were you saying about the Space Center?” Daffy sat in her chair and took her book from her bag. “Do we need tickets?”
“I’ll look when we go in. Let’s try that pub down the beach tonight. The Captain’s Hideaway. The sign said something about the best American food on the Space Coast.”
“I was going to suggest barbecuing.” Daffy texted her pictures to Thomas but in her mind, she only saw Prince Gus. That gorgeous chap was here. In Florida. On her beach. What were the odds? The idea sent a chill down her arms. “But we can do it another night. We have all week.”
Would she see him again? Should she try? If she got up early and started hanging out on the beach, Leslie Ann would get wise to her. No, Daff, just leave it alone. Leave him be. He’s found some peace and dignity.
Meanwhile, she’d read the first line of her book ten times. She looked up when Leslie Ann interrupted. “So, did the love of your life text you back yet? Did he like the pictures?”
Daffy peered down the beach in the direction Prince Gus, rather Pete George, had gone.
“No, the love of my life has not texted.” She ducked down behind her book. “I’m not sure he ever will.”