Loving The Princess. A.C. Arthur
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was a solution. Sam was good at coming up with solutions and acting on them, regardless of whether or not it seemed she was taking the easy way out. That didn’t matter. Only the “out” part did.
When Gary had finished talking to the man in the truck and then stood there for a few moments as the SUV pulled off, she’d had plenty of time to decide what she would say when he asked why she’d changed seats. Of course she wouldn’t say that she couldn’t trust herself not to jump him in the backseat of a moving car. That wouldn’t be at all appropriate—no matter how true it might be.
She also wouldn’t tell him again that she didn’t like his idea of them faking a relationship. That had already been said and overruled. No, Sam decided that she would do whatever was necessary to keep her family safe and out of the scandal spotlight. So she planned to go through with this false relationship until Morty was dealt with and they could all move on. She prayed that would happen sooner rather than later.
He was heading back now, stopping only briefly at the security booth before heading toward the car. Her fingers clenched on her purse as she held it firmly in her lap. She stared straight ahead even though the windows were completely tinted so he could not see where she sat from the outside. The back door opened—she heard barely a sound as she suspected he slipped onto the seat—and then the door closed. A few muted seconds passed.
“Let’s go. We don’t want the princess to be late for the opening ceremonies,” he instructed Phillipe.
He said nothing to her and, for that, Sam was grateful. After about fifteen minutes the gratitude shifted to mild confusion. Why wasn’t he saying anything? Was kissing the only way they could communicate? No, that was silly. Especially since after each kiss Sam was left feeling more confused than ever. Aroused yet still jumbled.
She hadn’t chanced a look at him but knew without a doubt that he was staring at her because the back of her neck felt as if it were on fire. He was surely staring, but what was he thinking? She wondered if it was about her or about the job he’d been hired to do. She shouldn’t care. The job...rather, the safety of her family and their people, was all that mattered. So he should be thinking about the job and not her. Right?
Now she drummed her fingers on her purse, wanting to say something but not knowing exactly what to say. This was new for Sam. Her entire life had revolved around her ability to talk to anyone about almost anything. The fact that she did so with a brilliant smile and a sense of compassion made her the perfect goodwill ambassador for the island.
It had been her mother’s job when she was alive. Vivienne Patterson DeSaunters had been the perfect champion for everything wonderful about Grand Serenity Island. She’d helped Rafe build the island’s tourism to the bustling hub of social and economic prosperity that it was today.
Forming the Tourism Board had been Vivienne’s idea, as well as bringing several social organizations she’d been part of in her hometown of Sugar Land in Houston, Texas, to Grand Serenity. Sam was a member of the Flower Circle, the Arts and Entertainment Society, and the Serenade Museum Board of Directors. But not because of her own interest in flowers or plays or the paintings that hung along the museum walls. No. As with so many other aspects of her life, these things Sam did in memory of her mother.
Twenty minutes later, when the car came to a stop and she looked across the cobblestone street to a little shop painted a bright and cheery blue with white-framed windows, she smiled. Even though lately every thought she had of her mother made her sad.
Detali Signorenson had been making dresses for Sam since Sam’s first middle school dance. She was a true talent when it came to design and manufacturing dresses, and Sam was ecstatic about the turn her career had taken.
It had started two months ago when Sam had brought Landry into Detali’s old shop, which had also served as Detali and her daughter’s apartment. During that meeting Landry, who at the time had been Malayka’s stylist, had commissioned Detali to design and make an original gown for Malayka.
Sam remembered well how Malayka had embarrassed the royal family. At a press conference she’d offended every dressmaker on Grand Serenity with her dismissive remarks about the quality of fashion on the island. But after Landry had tricked Malayka into wearing the Detali original to the Ambassador’s Ball, the gown had been photographed and featured on fashion blogs with Detali as a new and upcoming designer.
Today would be the grand opening of Detali Designs, the new shop that would display Detali’s original dresses. In another month or so, one of the old warehouses on the east side of the island would be transformed into a state-of-the art space for the clothes to be manufactured.
Landry had invested in Detali’s dream and was present today for the press conference and ribbon-cutting ceremony. Sam wondered if Kris knew what a special woman he’d found in Landry Norris. She possessed one of the first traits to being a princess: a good heart. The business and fashion sense Landry brought to the small Caribbean island was a plus that Sam was glad to expose.
The opening of the car door jolted her from her thoughts and Sam stepped out without further hesitation. Her hair blew in the breeze as she took a step onto the cobblestone path. Gary touched her elbow immediately, a firm grasp that she doubted looked imposing at all from a distance.
“From this point on, there will be two cars traveling with every member of the royal family,” he said in what, to a passerby, may have sounded like a cordial tone.
Sam wasn’t certain what she should gather from his voice, she was too busy trying to squash the butterflies dancing happily in the pit of her stomach at his touch.
“Guards from the second car will enter the premises first and complete a perimeter check. Once Phillipe, or the other driver, receives the okay from the guards, he’ll let you out of the vehicle. You are never to exit the vehicle alone, nor are you to enter a facility that has not been pre-checked.”
He walked them across the street as he talked. Sam noticed the group of women that had been heading toward the shop. They stopped and whispered. Then one of them lifted her phone, aiming it toward Sam. Another one giggled and did the same thing. Falling easily into her role, Sam lifted a hand and waved. “Hello. How are you?” she said to them.
One of the women ran up to her, pulling a canvas bag off her shoulder and holding a marker in Sam’s direction. Sam immediately reached for it.
“I’m so happy to meet you, Princess Samantha. You’re much prettier in person.” The woman gushed.
Sam smiled. “Thank you. Ah...?”
“Oh, my name’s Kelly. Kelly Upton. I’m from Washington, D.C. Our cruise ship just docked this morning. I’ve been waiting all year to visit Grand Serenity. And now that I’ve met you, it’s the highlight of the trip!”
Sam wrote an uplifting message to Kelly and signed her name to the large black bag. The silver marker she used caused her writing to glisten in the sunlight.
“Thank you so much!” Kelly insisted.
“How about a picture?” Sam offered.
“Oh, my! Yes! Yes! Come on, y’all, she’s going to take a picture with us!” Kelly yelled to her companions.
The next second Gary was standing a few feet in front of Sam and the women, aimed not one, not two but four different cell phones at them and snapped pictures. He took one with them all smiling and then Sam yelled, “Now, let’s make a funny face!”
The women obliged and Sam stuck out her tongue. Gary snapped more pictures.
“And now we’ll strike a runway pose,” Sam continued, thoroughly enjoying the moment.
The women laughed and did as Sam instructed, all of them striking poses around her. When the pictures were finished, Sam hugged each one of them and wished them a great time while visiting the island. She waited as Gary gave them their phones back and hoped that he would once again take her by the arm and walk close beside her toward the shop. There was something comforting in that act. Something that didn’t seem quite the same when other