The Surprise Princess (29 page)

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Authors: Patricia McLinn

BOOK: The Surprise Princess
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A young man she’d noticed at last night’s game dogged Brad, calling out translations of whatever he said like a distorted echo.

T-shirts clung to their chests from exertion. Only Brad’s chest looked nothing like the kids’.

Her breath came faster. She wasn’t sure if it was from watching him so utterly focused on these kids or … from just watching him.

The kids formed two lines at half-court, about ten feet apart. Brad bounce-passed to the closer player. That player dribbled twice then passed to the first player in the other line, who’d also advanced. Player 2 dribbled twice and passed back. They continued that way to the basket, where Player 1 threw up what might have been meant as a layup.

Brad clapped. “That’s the way to do it. Good, good.” He bounce-passed a new ball to the next player and the scenario repeated, including the miss at the end. Again earning Brad’s praise.

The third pair was trouble. Katie saw that from their body language even before the first one received the ball. He dribbled four times instead of two and it took Brad’s “Pass it! Pass it!” to get him to give up the ball. Player 2 began dribbling toward the basket. At the third dribble, as Brad called “Pass it!”, Player 1 dove toward Player 2. Player 2 hugged the ball to his chest and raced toward the basket. Player 1 chased. But Player 2 was too fast.

Apparently he was also deaf, because he paid no heed to Brad’s shouts, to the translator, or to the whistle Brad blew with determination.Player 2 pulled up and shot. As the ball slid into the basket, Player 1 tackled him and other players swarmed around chattering loudly. Player 2 popped up, chanting something gloatingly. It had to be the Bariavakian version of “Nyah, nyah, nyah, nah-nyah-nyah.”

Brad was going to have to shout to be heard over them.

Instead, he stood still and silent.

A few of the kids looked at him. Then more. The noise level lowered, until the only sound was Player 2 chanting.

Player 1 snapped something, which had the tenor of “Shut up.”

One of the other players picked up the loose ball and handed it to Brad, who acknowledged the delivery with a small nod. Every player now focused on him.

Holding the basketball, he crouched down before the two players, with the others fanned out behind them. She couldn’t hear what he said and didn’t understand the few words she picked up from the translator. But she could see the tender way he turned the basketball in his hands.

She remembered him cooking. Thinking about those hands being so skilled with a basketball, in a kitchen.

Now she could think only of his hands on her. And their skills there.

Stop.

Stop remembering.

Stop feeling.

“Princess Josephine-Augusta.”

One voice – the translator, she thought – said her name, then a murmur picked it up.

She’d been so intent on watching Brad that she’d strayed from the shadow of the bleachers, and she’d been spotted.

Kids turned, gaping, then rushed over to her, “Princezha Katrina! Princezha Katrina!”

They hopped and bobbed, waving their arms, calling out things she couldn’t understand. She tried to shake hands as fast as they came at her. Left, right, whatever she could reach. The translator hurried up, “So happy. Great pleasure. Most wonderful.” She didn’t know if he was translating or they were his words.

With his reluctance so clear to her, Brad came last.

“I apologize for interrupting,” she said to him.

“Princesses don’t have to apologize.” He seemed to regret the harshness and added more easily, “You seem to be the hit of the session.”

“But you were doing so well with them—”

“We’re way over time. Okay, that’s enough. Pick up all the balls,” he ordered, and the kids appeared to understand the tone without needing translation. “Then hit the showers.”

The translator fumbled a few words, then barked one she thought meant
wash
.

Over the kids’ heads, Brad’s eyes met hers for an instant. Almost he smiled.

Almost.

The kids and translator loped toward the exit, still calling out. She waved after them.

Then it was only her and Brad and the echo of the young voices.

“I have to supervise these rug rats.” He jerked his head in the direction they’d gone. “See you later—”

“I’ll wait.”

“Is that an order?”

“It’s a… I’ll wait here.”

He glanced toward her, not making eye contact. “Suit yourself.” Then he jogged after the youngsters.

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

 

T
he practiced phrases fled her mind when he strode toward her in khakis and a white shirt.

He still wasn’t looking at her.

If he couldn’t even look at her… Oh, God, Carolyn was wrong. Completely and totally wrong …

Into a silence that had gone on too long he said gruffly, “You’re the one who called this meeting.”

“Don’t you think we should talk?”

He shrugged. The kids had missed a basketball. He stretched a leg and caught it with his toe, drawing it close.

“Don’t you
want
to talk?”

“What about?”

“About …” She swiped her upturned hand in the air between them.

“You left.” For a fragment of a second she thought he was going to add the word
me
. How different those words would have felt with that addition. “To find your future. What would I have to say?”

“I didn’t leave…” She stopped. Of course she’d left. She’d meant leaving hadn’t been her goal. Not entirely. “You gave me so much. You were so generous, so willing to protect me. You were right, I needed to find out… To get to know…” She hated she was stumbling through this. “To find out what my life would be like here.”

“Yeah, I gave you so much,” he said dryly. “Married in a courthouse. Reception at Angelo’s. What every girl dreams about.”

“That’s what …
that
’s what was bothering you at April and Hunter’s wedding?”

“Wasn’t it bothering you?”

“No.”

“The hell it wasn’t. The fancy wedding dress. The flowers and music. The reception with all your friends and family.”

“I don’t have – I didn’t have family. And you said you liked my dress.”

“I do like it. But women don’t want their wedding dress to be one they can wear again two weeks later. God, no wonder you’re nuts for all this fancy stuff.” He looked her over without the survey ever reaching her face. “Looks like your life here suits you fine.”

She was starting to get irked. “If you think I’ve changed beyond—”

“Not changed. Realized.”

“—clothes and— Realized what?”

“Who you are. Who you really are.”

“The DNA result doesn’t change—”

“It’s not DNA. It’s
you
. Not who the people who raised you tried to make you think you were. It’s not only about being a princess, either. It started before that. You realizing.” He was stumbling too. Was that good? Or bad? “Walt and Heath.”

“What?”

“That’s when I first saw it. With Walt and Heath. You realizing. You starting not to hide anymore. It wasn’t like their attention was water for a dying plant or anything. More like your
handling
the attention started bringing you to life. Sort of blooming.” His mouth twisted. “Fancy for a basketball jock, huh? You never looked like that when I flirted with you.”


You
?” She was stunned. “You
never
flirted with me. Ever. You—”

Now he looked at her. Glared at her. “The hell I didn’t.”

“—were always my friend.”

“The hell I was. Well, I was, I guess. But I didn’t want to be. But you were a kid. And—”

“I was
not
a kid. What I was—”

“—I’d’ve deserved to be horsewhipped if I’d gone after you.”

“—was ordinary. Completely, thoroughly ordinary. Not like the women you dated at all.”

“Dated?
Dated
? I’ve practically been a monk, working so hard to keep my hands off you.”

“Oh, yeah, wracked with lust for wanting me and—”

“Damn, I almost forgot.”

He grasped her hand. For a crazy instant she thought he was going to pull her to him …

She felt the silk against her palm before her eyes caught up.

“I got this out of your attic. Thought you should have it. Maybe give it to your grandfather.”

“Brad.”

He scooped up the basketball. “It’s good we had this talk. Wrapped things up. Finished things. Of course there’ll be legal stuff. Send a lawyer or a diplomat or something and I’ll sign whatever needs signing. But what’s important is now we both know. Now we can both move on. Forget …”

He pivoted, and in one motion slammed the ball against the floor in the direction of the carrier, the sound of the impact echoing from the stone walls.

“You were a kid,” he repeated in a harsh, low voice, not looking at her. “And now you’re a princess. Good-bye, Katie.”

****

She would have given a lot to skip the afternoon’s game. But she had promised to be there.

King Jozef and Madame might talk about royal duty, but it was no different than her job at Ashton. People counted on her, so she would do what she’d said she’d do.

Brad was impossible not to see. But there was no need to talk or make eye contact. He made it easy by never looking her way.

Besides, as she’d told Carolyn, she’d gone through years of pining after him. With all that practice, she could pull this off.

At halftime, she saw April and Carolyn talking earnestly and caught both of them glancing at her … then carefully not looking at her. But neither said anything then or after the game at courtside amid a casual whirl of introductions and greetings among players, coaches, officials, and family members.

She eased toward the edge of the group. How many times had she left such events at Ashton unnoticed? Too many to count. This was a skill she could count on. This was something she knew how to do—

Carolyn slid a hand under her arm as she had yesterday. This time it occurred to Katie the gesture made it hard to get away.

“I’m getting a ride with you again,” her friend said. “Don’t argue and don’t frown. Your driver will tackle me if you keep glaring at me.”

She pasted on a smile, but said. “I don’t want to be rude, but—”

“Good. Here we go.”

In the car, Carolyn wasted no time. “I take it this morning’s conversation with Brad didn’t go well.”

“It was fine. He’s simply not interested.”

“Simply not—? What did he say – no, don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter what he said. He’s an idiot. A tall, good-looking, big-hearted – and, according to his grandmother, brooding – idiot. And—”

“He is not—”

“—so are you.”

“—an idiot. Me?”

“Yes. For listening to him. Words. I love the English language, but sometimes I swear words get in the way. So forget whatever Brad said. Look at what he’s done.”

“Nothing bad, not really bad.”

Carolyn laughed. “I was thinking of things he’s done
for
you.”

“Oh. You mean the … courthouse.”

She raised her brows. “Is that how you’re referring to it? Well, yes, it’s certainly impossible to miss that the man arranged to marry you so you would be sure to have a passport to come home to him.”

“That’s not—”

“But look at all the other things, Katie. He’s always been protective of you.”

“That’s because he thought I was a kid. He’s that way to everyone. Like the interns.”

“Oh, Katie, really? You know with men like C.J. and Brad you have to look a little deeper. It’s not that they won’t be romantic, it’s that their idea of romantic and ours might not be the same. Did I ever tell you about the brown things C.J. gives me?”

“It’s your favorite color.”

She chuckled. “No, it isn’t. But I like what C.J. gives me that’s brown, because it has significance between us. Yes, I see that skeptical look, but it’s true. When he started giving me brown things I thought it was to annoy me. He’d given me grief about being monochrome – hair, eyes, wardrobe, life. Then he started speculating on exactly what color brown my hair was and he gave me things to try to match it. A teddy bear and ice cream, things like that.” Her smile softened and her eyes brightened. “The first time he said he thought he’d matched it was with the velvet box of an engagement ring.”

“Oh.”

Carolyn nodded. “Face it, our guys are not the kind for a dozen roses.”

“But I don’t think Brad has – I mean other than the courthouse, and of course I could never thank him enough. But—”

“Going on red alert when Hunter showed up. Making sure you were okay afterward. Taking you to Chicago to get you more comfortable with – well, not with this, because I don’t know how anything could prepare you for this, but still, more confident. Introducing you to his grandmother.”

“Oh, that wasn’t—”

“Yes, it was,” Carolyn interrupted firmly. “Making sure he was with you when you met April and her extended family, and then the king so—”

“But that wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t ambushed me.”

“Exactly. C.J. and I would have sat back and let you avoid the whole situation. Brad has so much faith that you can handle anything that he pushes you where you wouldn’t go yourself.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Carolyn smiled again. “One word: Trees.”

Click
. The sensation was so strong Katie thought for sure it had been audible.

Carolyn nodded. “That’s right. He cleared away the vegetation to let the sun in and to let the world truly see you. Same thing with the DNA and this trip to Bariavak. In a way, it’s the most unselfish kind of—”

“What do you mean with this trip to Bariavak?”

“You know, it’s a good sign you’re asking questions instead of arguing. Who do you think pushed C.J. into changing the team’s itinerary? Who lobbied the NCAA and the administration to get approval?”

“But … why?”

“He didn’t know then that the DNA test would come through so quickly or so definitely. He wanted to be sure you had a chance to explore the possibilities, to see Bariavak, to spend time here. But when the DNA said you are who you are, and then media speculation started about you and Prince Karl, he said he wasn’t coming. He didn’t want to cramp your new style.”

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