Tangled Up in Princes (Royal Romances Book 1), page 12
"I'd prefer to explain my actions to Carrie if you don't mind."
"I'm sure you would, but as it happens, I do mind. I mind very much. You see, I encouraged Carrie to get involved with you. Actually, I only encouraged her to have sex with you, but I should have known she wasn't capable of keeping her feelings in check. You used her for your little press stunt, then abandoned her to deal with the fallout alone. As far as I'm concerned, you're a royal asshole."
"I didn't abandon her. You've no idea how the tabloid press can be. Had I remained close to Carrie, it would only have served to heighten their interest in her. She'd never have had a moment's peace from them."
"It wasn't exactly peaceful around here last night."
"That is down to my brother who created a circus. I had nothing to do with it. In fact, I feel confident in saying I'm even angrier than you are about it."
"As far as I'm concerned, you can both go back across the pond and never look back."
The door behind Jeannie opened. Carrie peered out through the screen door.
"Is everything okay out --" She stopped speaking when she saw him.
Edward's heart pounded so hard he was becoming dizzy. There was a whooshing sound in his head that could portend nothing good.
"Carrie, oh, God. I'm so sorry."
She put her hand on the door handle but didn't open it. "Edward, you're here."
"For now," Jeannie said, "I was just telling him he's come at a bad time. Maybe you could come back some other time, Mr. Prince, like maybe in time for that skiing trip in hell."
"Jeannie, you can't talk to him that way," Carrie said, sounding appalled.
"She can, actually. She cares for you, and she's right to blame me for your sadness."
Tears were welling in Carrie's eyes.
"Please, only let me in. You can kick me out whenever you wish. I won't put up a fight. Only let me apologize."
He hated himself right now. He really ought to let Jeannie have a go at him, which is what she looked prepared to do.
"She's not sad over you, you self-absorbed, arrogant shit," Jeannie said, "she's upset because she just lost her store."
He felt color rising up from his collar.
"Oh, um, actually, that's my fault as well."
Carrie shook her head, "No, I can't blame you for that."
"Yes, you can, as it happens. I bought your store."
A baby started crying inside the house.
"You get Cooper, and I'll escort our guest here back to his car," Jeannie said.
"It's okay, Jeannie. I think I have to talk to him some time."
Jeannie looked at each of them in turn. She squinted her eyes at him.
"I still mean to kick your ass, just so you know."
"I consider myself forewarned."
As looking down, Edward could see the top of Jeannie's head, he doubted her ability to follow through with her threat, but he didn't doubt for an instant that she would try.
Carrie opened the door to let Jeannie inside. Instead of inviting him in, she joined him on the front porch.
"I think inside might be more prudent. I can't be sure there aren't still photographers out here."
Carrie took a seat in a wooden swing at the end of the porch.
"There's nothing of mine they haven't seen already."
Even wearing faded blue jeans and a t-shirt, obviously depressed, she looked beautiful to him. Should he tell her so? He feared she might never want to hear such words from him again.
"Did you really buy my store?" she asked.
He took the seat beside her on the swing.
"I did."
"Why?"
"I thought I owed you that much."
Her back straightened and her body went rigid.
"You don't owe me anything."
He ran a hand through his hair.
"I'm making a muddle of this. Can I start over?"
"No, you can start by telling me why you bought my store."
"When I finally got in town, given the hour, I thought to find you at your shop. When I drove by, I saw the for sale sign in the window. I wondered at that because you hadn't mentioned selling. Just the opposite in fact. Aside from your family, your shop seemed like the most important thing in your life. I was afraid that what happened in Scotland, with the pictures and everything, had caused you to lose your business. I called the number on the sign and spoke to your real estate agent. She's very chatty, by the way."
"She's a nosy gossip is what she is."
"Yes, that's likely a more accurate assessment. She told me that your father had taken out a mortgage to pay Phillip's family for the wedding. Your father seems a practical sort, but that is absurd. I'm not sure one of my family's homes would fetch enough to pay for that wedding"--he risked touching her, just a brush of his knuckles against her arm--"and the nosy realtor said you were selling your store to help your father pay back the money."
She looked into his eyes.
"What would you do in my place?"
"The same, I reckon."
She nodded but looked away from him.
"Edward, your plate is full. I don't want to be one more person you have to save, one more problem you have to fix. I won't be that."
"You aren't. You'd never be that for me. Where is this coming from?"
"Jamie explained it to me."
"Jamie," he muttered, "I truly will kill him."
"Don't. He was only trying to help."
She got up from the swing and studied the shrubs growing in front of the porch.
"Why didn't you call me after I left Scotland?"
"What? I didn't call because I thought putting distance between us would be the best way to keep the press off your trail. I wanted to give you back your privacy."
She faced him, her arms crossed over her chest.
"I suppose that's why you had a fling with that Swedish Princess."
"Astrid? Yes, that's exactly why I appeared to have a fling with her. I wanted the press to focus on someone other than you, and Astrid is accustomed to that sort of attention."
"I'll bet. What other kinds of attention is she used to from you?"
Carrie was furious -- furious and jealous. He tried and failed to stop the smile that threatened on his face.
"Astrid is a friend."
He got up to stand in front of her. He put a finger against her lips.
"A long-time family friend. More to the point, she's practically betrothed to Jamie."
Her eyebrows shot up at that.
"He didn't mention that."
"No, he wouldn't, and I said practically engaged. It's hardly a certainty. Unlike Jamie, I am not inclined toward public kisses with my brother's intended."
"You saw that, did you?"
"Yes, just as Jamie no doubt planned. Is he here, by the way?"
"No, he left in a garbage truck early this morning."
"Fitting."
"None of this explains why you bought my shop."
He'd hoped they wouldn't get back to that.
"I am guilty. It's just as you said. I wanted to fix this for you. I felt like it was the only thing I could make right for you."
"I will not let you buy my shop. I won't sell it to you."
"Fine. Just let me give your father the money to repay the Rhys-Coopers then."
She glared at him.
"I am not a problem you can fix, nor am I a product you can buy and ignore at your whim."
"That's not what I meant. I never thought of you that way. You know that."
"Really? How would I know that Edward? You never even gave me a cell phone number to contact you. All I've ever had from you is whatever scraps of attention you were willing to give at the time. Don't get me wrong, I'm not blaming you. I fell hard for you, and that's my fault, but I'd rather be nothing to you than be one more inconvenience you feel you have to deal with."
His composure snapped. He prided himself on keeping a cool head in all situations, but this, this was too much. He pulled Carrie to him and wrapped his arms around her. "I never thought of you as an inconvenience, or a difficulty, or a problem, and I'm sorry Carrie, so damned sorry that I made you think so. I've thought of little else but you since I hid behind those curtains and heard the sound of your voice. You didn't know who I was. You spent time with me for me. You can have no idea how rare, how singular an experience that is for me. I wanted to give you everything, but Jamie and my family--I couldn't shake free of prior obligations, and the thing is, I'm still not certain I can, now or ever. I am a member of the British royal family. I will always be that, and everything that comes along with it -- the family and the paparazzi and the endless obligations -- I wanted to spare you that, even as it killed something inside me to have to do it. Buying your shop, I should have consulted with you first. I realize that now, but I wanted to do something for you. I wanted to do something to make you feel as good, as whole, as you made me feel."
When he'd finally finished speaking, he realized that he was pressing her hand against his chest, over his heart. He dropped his hand, but she kept hers pressed against him.
"You said earlier--you said you'd fallen for me. Have my mistakes and utter incompetence managed to undo those feelings?"
"I thought so," she said and swallowed hard, "but you give a fine speech."
"Perhaps I should keep talking then."
"No."
She rose and pressed her lips to his, the sweetest, sexiest, most sensual kiss he'd ever experienced. He put out a hand to the porch railing for support. He ran his hands up her shoulders and into her long, loose hair.
"I want this, Carrie. I want to stand out in the open with you in my arms. I want it so much."
"I'd like that too, but I'm just not sure it can ever happen."
"It's happening now. I know it can't be like this all the time, but we've found this moment here, now. We can find more. We can make more moments like this."
"What is it you want from me, Edward? Because I'm not convinced you know yourself."
"I didn't know, not until I got here. I knew I wanted you. I've always known that, but I wanted to protect you from the insanity of my life more."
"And now?"
"And now, I think my life may not be quite so insane with you in it."
He stole another kiss before going on.
"Clearly, Jamie is more capable of looking after himself than anyone gave him credit for."
She drew a finger down his cheek.
"Jamie was looking after you."
"That's a welcome role reversal, but one that will take some getting used to."
"I'm glad he's the one who'll be king some day and not you."
"Me, too."
"You never thought about becoming king?"
He gave a shudder as though from a recalled nightmare.
"Not with any feelings of fondness, I assure you."
"What do you want then? If you give up your role as the family fixer, what will you do with yourself."
"You know, there is one thing."
"What?"
"I was thinking of opening a yarn store in London."
Chapter Ten
"You know, you can't drive like this here," Carrie said from inside Edward's new Porsche, "you'll get a ticket."
The trees lining the Bluegrass Parkway dazzled in their November best.
"I've diplomatic immunity plates on the car."
"You're spoiled."
"I am."
He laid a hand on her thigh.
"Where are we going?"
"Home. I told you already."
"Since my home is the other direction, and your home requires a plane to get to, your answer isn't very satisfying."
He gave her a sidelong glance.
“Are you unsatisfied?"
They'd had a little interlude back at an empty rest stop.
"You are beautiful when you blush like that. Stop it, or I'll have to pull the car over."
"You're being obtuse.
"Is that what you Americans call it?"
She resigned herself to being kept in the dark and enjoyed the view, if fast moving, outside the car window. She also enjoyed Edward's hand on her thigh, which had gathered up her skirt and was now stroking bare skin. She reached for the radio dial but stopped herself just in time. Over the past few weeks, she and Edward had learned that they had many things in common, but their musical preferences weren't among them. Strangely, Edward loved classic country music, the whinier and twangier the better, while Carrie leaned toward British rock bands-- Beatles, The Stones, The Who, even Duran Duran and some 80's electronica. In this, they had agreed to disagree. Reading her thoughts, he laughed as her hand fell away from the dashboard.
"No banjos unless you tell me where we're going," she said.
"Relax. You're safe. We're here."
He turned the car onto a long, tree-lined drive that had a gatehouse at the end. Edward flashed the guard his ID. The guard stood up straighter, started to salute, thought better of it, then just looked confused.
"Thank you, my good man."
Until a few weeks ago, the sight of the house in front of her would have awed her. It was huge, in the Tudor style, its gleaming whitewash crisscrossed with dark timbers. The diamond-shaped panes of glass glittered in the autumn sunlight. It was beautiful, but it was no Buckingham Palace. She knew because she'd spent a week in that fabled residence, not a month back.
She thought her life should be pretty smooth sailing from here on out because nothing -- nothing -- could be as anxiety-inducing as meeting Edward's parents. She'd expected them to be disapproving. She was no Swedish princess after all. She hadn't even managed to place in the Watermelon Princess pageant when she'd been in high school. To her surprise, the king, and especially the queen, were delighted at the idea of Edward marrying her. His mother seemed genuinely happy for her son -- even tearing up a bit as she'd watched Edward place her own mother's wedding ring on Carrie's finger. His father thought the respectable spectacle of a wedding would be a good distraction just now, and Edward marrying an American would test the waters of how well the British people would take one of their royal family marrying outside the realm. When the king had mentioned that particular benefit, he'd been looking sternly at Jamie.
As for Jamie, he'd gotten into the act by doing a television interview with Dinah Adams explaining the kiss the world had seen between himself and Carrie. He'd laughed once the footage of their now infamous kiss had played.
"Well, Dinah, did you see her face? It was hardly the visage of an impassioned woman. I count myself lucky indeed that she didn't deck me."
"You say there was nothing romantic between the two of you, yet the entire world saw that video for themselves."
Jamie leaned back and crossed his legs, propping ankle on knee. He gave the camera a heart-stopping, sly grin.
"I know my brother. I knew he was in love with Carrie, and I knew he was worried about how the British people would take having an American as their princess. As for myself, I know my countrymen well. I knew they'd embrace her warmly, as they have."
In truth, they hadn't -- not until that statement from Jamie urged them to do so.
"Nothing makes a man in love take action like a challenge, wouldn't you say?" He winked at the camera, and women all over the world had swooned, actually swooned.
"What is this place?" Carrie asked Edward as he helped her out of the car.
He backed her against the car and framed her face with his hands.
"It's home."
"It's what?"
"Home. I knew you were homesick while we were in England. You said you didn't mind living there," he said and tilted up her chin to brush a kiss across her lips, "and I love you for that, but I know your heart aches at the idea of severing ties with this place. As it happens, my family has long owned this estate. Granny Pemmy, she liked the ponies."
"She was an equestrian?"
"A gambler, more like. Anyway, she bought this house and horse farm thirty years ago. Nobody much uses it since her death. Actually, I think it might have been forgotten, but Father remembered it and he deeded the property to me."
She stared from the house to Edward.
"Your father gave you this?"
"He gave us this. He's not as harsh as he wants everyone to think he is."
"He's excellent at concealment then."
He lifted her hand, the one bejeweled with a five karat emerald cut sapphire set in platinum, to his lips.
"When we're in the midst of the wedding insanity, and you feel sure you'd rather leave me than endure one more fitting or photo shoot, I want you to remember this place. I promise I'll bring you back here. We'll spend half our time in Britain and half here. It's my promise to you."
She wrapped her arms around him.
"When we first met and I called you a jerk --"
"And a bridge troll. Don't forget the bridge troll."
"Well, I take it all back. You're a wonderful man, and I'm the luckiest woman in England or America."
He looked pointedly at her huge diamond ring, then at the mansion ahead of them. "It really doesn't take much to sway you, does it?"
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Afterward
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