To Catch a Star: A Royal Romance to Remember!. Romy Sommer
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to raise funds for a new children’s hospital in Los Pajaros.”
Teresa flicked him a contemptuous glance. “A society event packed with pretentious people all showing off their designer wear and eating gourmet food? That’s not helping others. That’s helping yourself.”
She was right, of course. Tonight was all about him, not about the charity. His appearance as guest speaker tonight had been arranged by his publicist. And even free publicity hadn’t been his real incentive. He’d only agreed to attend when he’d heard his latest co-star was going to be there too.
But he wasn’t going to admit that this prissy bitch was right.
He forced a crooked smile. “And what’s wrong with that?”
The look she cast him could have out-frozen the Antarctic. “Do you even care about anyone other than yourself?”
Not any more.
Teresa pulled the car to a stop. Glancing out the window, he recognised the forecourt of his hotel.
Then she turned her clear, frigid gaze on him, and every repressed childhood memory, every insult and every torture he’d endured rose up. He kept his fury in check and resisted the urge to fist his hands. He thought he’d left the past behind, but clearly it still lingered beneath the surface, waiting for a moment just like this. He wanted to lash out, to take revenge on this superior ice queen, who suddenly represented every person who’d ever slighted the outcast mixed-race child from Los Pajaros.
But he was an actor. He could control his emotions. And he would die before letting her see how she’d got to him.
He opened the door and the chill night air rushed in. “I’m a narcissist and proud of it. But before you judge another person, Miss High and Mighty, you should take a walk in their shoes.”
A slight smile tugged at the edge of her full lips. “Are you upset because I haven’t fallen at your feet?”
He stepped out the car. “Thank you for the ride, Princess.” He slammed the door shut and the trailing tail of his evening jacket caught in it, but he didn’t care. He heard the fabric rip as he stalked away, head high, shoulders back, barely seeing the doorman as he pushed past into the plush lobby.
Tessa sat for a long moment, her hands on the steering wheel, which vibrated with the engine’s purr. Now he was gone and the adrenalin rush faded, reaction set in.
Her hands began to shake.
She’d been unpardonably rude.
It wasn’t like her.
Blood thundered in her ears and she laid her forehead down on the steering wheel. She could blame it on the shock of having a strange man jump into her car, invading her personal space, but it was so much more than that.
She was angry with herself.
If Daddy found out about her lapse tonight, she’d never hear the end of it. She’d been raised better than that. Remember your manners, keep your temper, and don’t be rude. She’d broken all three tonight.
Not to mention that he’d warned her that danger could come when you least expected it and that she needed to be vigilant. But she’d been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, in herself, she hadn’t even seen Christian until he’d leapt into her car. Nor had she noticed the women chasing after him. She’d been as self-absorbed as she’d accused him of being.
If her father heard of this incident, he’d have a security detail on her in a heartbeat, and she hated having eyes and ears trained on her. How could she go about planning the biggest day of her life with a bodyguard stalking her every move? She felt claustrophobic enough in her life as it was.
She could only pray that by then the escaped convicts would be back behind bars and they could stop living in fear. And that this dreadful feeling of being caged would go away.
She lifted her head and put the car in gear.
Still, neither fear nor anger was an excuse. She’d behaved insufferably tonight. Christian was right – she’d been judgmental and condescending. Just because he represented everything she distrusted and despised didn’t mean she had to say it out loud.
She’d lied too. She’d pretended not to know who he was. But even she, enclosed in her ivory tower, had heard of Christian Taylor, the man who’d made his fame playing the ultimate superhero.
She sucked in a deep breath and pulled away from the hotel forecourt.
The last thing she felt like right now was a charity banquet. Especially one where she’d just insulted the guest of honour. She turned the car in the opposite direction to the banquet hall and headed home. She’d have a bath and curl up in bed with a book. And if her father wanted to know if she’d done as he asked and met Christian Taylor, at least she could answer honestly that she had.
And she’d send up a prayer that it was over and done with and she never need see him again.
“You may go straight in. Your father’s expecting you.”
His executive assistant waved her in, and with only the barest pause in her stride to acknowledge the older woman, Tessa headed towards the closed office door. Her heels beat out a firm rhythm on the parquet floor. She hesitated at the door; her hand suspended a centimetre from the solid wood door.
Did her father know what had happened last night? He always knew everything. Was he disappointed in her? Or had he summoned her here today to insist on a bodyguard? Whatever it was, his assistant had said it was urgent. So urgent she’d left one of the world’s leading dress designers standing open-mouthed in the bridal boutique.
She steeled herself with a deep breath, straightened her back, and knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
She opened the door and stepped in.
Her father stood in the bay window, which overlooked one of Neustadt’s numerous squares, a leafy oasis amongst the eighteenth-century buildings, his back to her and his hands clasped behind his back, like a king surveying his domain. Which wasn’t far off.
Victor Thomas Adler, Twelfth Count of Arelat, former Supreme Court Judge and new head of the nation’s Intelligence Service, wielded almost as much power in the little European nation as the Archduke or the Prime Minister.
He turned as she closed the door behind her. “Thank you for coming so quickly.” He waved her to the seat across the desk and she sat, folding her hands demurely in her lap. Her hand felt bare where her engagement ring usually sat. She’d barely had it a few months and already it felt like a part of her. As soon as this interrogation was over, she needed to collect it from the jeweller’s, along with the insurance valuation certificate.
“Your assistant said it was urgent.”
Please, please don’t let him have heard about last night… she hated to disappoint her father.
“Did you enjoy the banquet last night?”
She blinked.
He never indulged in small-talk. So why did he want to talk about some charity event? She crossed her fingers in her lap, careful they were out of her father’s line of vision. She nodded. “It was a lovely evening.”
“Did Stefan go with you?”
“I told you last week that he’s away. He has meetings in New York.”
He wasn’t happy with that. He’d already made his feelings known on that score – he didn’t think Stefan would make a good husband for his only child. He’s too wrapped up in his work. He should take better care of you.
Her father was a good one to talk. He was married to his job.