Wow. She must sound an ungrateful misery-guts. But there was something easy about talking to a perfect stranger. Someone who didn’t know all the people or personalities involved. Someone completely independent.
‘I should be. I know. It’s just that I really, really wanted to work in one area. I did two training stints there, but by the time I’d qualified there was only one job and they gave it to someone with more experience.’ She shrugged. It still stung. She’d had her heart set on working there.
‘Where was it?’
‘In London. A specialist speech and language unit attached to the biggest children’s hospital. I loved it there. The staff were really special and the kids...they just made my heart melt.’
‘What kind of things did you do there?’
He seemed genuinely interested.
‘I worked with children with specific language impairment and language disorders. Those kids made progress every day.’ She held up her finger and thumb. ‘Even if it was just in the tiniest way.’ She smiled again, caught up in the memories. ‘I even worked with children with hearing problems. Seeing the look on their faces when they got a cochlear implant and heard for the first time...’ She shook her head. ‘It was magical. It was exactly what I wanted to do.’ She lifted her eyes to meet his. ‘These things stay with you for ever.’
He was looking at her with such intensity, such sincerity, that it took her breath away. Here, in a city with over two million people, he was looking only at her.
She couldn’t imagine how she’d done it, but she seemed to have completely captured his attention—just as he’d captured hers.
His voice was low and deep. ‘So you don’t have a job now?’
Even the timbre of his voice sent butterflies along her skin. Those two glasses of wine earlier seemed to have finally hit her system. Any minute now she was going to have to find some food before her brain was truly addled. No guy could have this kind of effect on a girl? Not in real life anyway.
She shook her head in an attempt to find some clear thoughts. ‘I do. And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’ve got a job at a stroke unit, working with patients who’ve suffered a stroke and are having trouble with speech.’
He kept smiling at her—one minute looking serious, the next as if she amused him. Those teeth were perfect. Too perfect. He must be a model. He probably advertised toothpaste.
He raised his eyebrows. ‘But that sounds just as important as the other job.’
Clear, rational thought. Easy when you didn’t dream about the place where you wanted to work every night.
She cringed. ‘I know. I know. I don’t mean to sound like that. I’m lucky to have a job. Not everyone on my course got one. And once I get there I know that’ll love it.’ She gave a sad smile. ‘It’s just not what I’d hoped for, that’s all.’
She heard him suck in a deep breath. ‘We don’t always get what we hope for, Ruby.’
His voice was serious. It made her curious.
He couldn’t possibly have any idea of the kind of thoughts that were circulating in her head right now. Her imagination was running riot. Handsome mysterious Frenchman. Gorgeous, smelling good enough to eat. Polly wouldn’t believe a word of this. Any minute now someone would pinch her and she’d wake up.
Time to get back to reality. Time to get a little nosey.
‘So, Alex. What do you do? Do you work around here?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m like you—just visiting for New Year. I’m in business. Boring things. Investment banking.’
Smash. The first dream broken. Not a model. But what interested her most was how he’d described his job. This guy gave very little away.
‘Why do you do it if it’s boring?’
‘Because I’m expected to. It’s a job.’
Another tell-nothing answer. The less he said, the more she was curious.
His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket and frowned.
‘Is it your friends? Are they looking for you?’ She looked through the crowd, expecting to see a bunch of Amazonian blondes charging in to steal their prize back.
He shook his head. ‘Nothing like that.’ He stuffed the phone back in his pocket.
Ruby bent forward and peered into the crowd below. ‘I dropped my phone. It’s probably smashed to smithereens.’
‘Smithereens? What is that?
He wrinkled his nose. It made him even cuter, if that was humanly possible.
‘You know—broken into lots and lots of tiny pieces. Irreparable.’
He nodded. ‘Aha. Can’t be fixed?’
She smiled. ‘You got it.’
His hand tightened on her waist, edging her a little closer, and she didn’t object. She liked his hand there. She was happy standing next to his shoulder with his arm anchored around her.
‘So, your friends... The ones you’re here with. Will they be looking for you?’
He gazed across the crowd. ‘I’m quite sure they are.’ He shrugged. ‘But I don’t always want to be found.’
Hmmm... More mystery. He was so good at deflecting questions. It was almost an art form.
He turned towards her, pulling her so they were face to face. ‘Are you comfortable without your friends, Ruby Wetherspoon? Are you happy to watch the Paris fireworks with some strange man who pulled you from the crowd?’
It was the way he said it. The way he looked at her. The gentle smile on his face and the twinkle in his eyes. For a second she didn’t want to breathe.
The wind caught her curls and blew them across his face. He laughed and took her hair in his hand, smoothing it down and tucking it behind her ear. She lifted her hand and put it on his chest. She could feel his warm skin on her palm through his thin T-shirt. She could feel the curling hairs on his chest.
The man just oozed sex appeal. If anyone had told her this time last year that she would be standing here, now, like this, she would have shaken her head in disbelief.
But right now there wasn’t any place else she’d rather be. ‘You’re not a stranger,’ she said simply. ‘You’re Alex.’
The countdown started around them.
Dix...neuf...huit...sept...
‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘Tonight I’m just Alex.’
The world around them exploded. Multi-coloured lights flickered up and down the outside of the Eiffel Tower. And Alex bent to kiss her.
The fireworks around her were nothing to the ones exploding in her brain. She didn’t do this. She didn’t do any of this. But everything about it felt right.
This was the kind of thing she could tell her grandkids about when she was an old woman. I once kissed a gorgeous Frenchman in Paris on New Year’s Eve.
Because this was a fairytale. This wasn’t real life.
Except Alex’s kiss was more than a fairytale. It was right up there with an award-winning movie.
Tingles were going to places that tingles hadn’t been in a long time. One of his hands was resting gently on her lower back—the other was holding the back of her head. Except it wasn’t holding the back of her head...it was caressing the back of her head. His fingers tangled through her hair, gently moving with tantalising softness to the side of her face.
If she could capture this moment and stuff it in a jar she would keep it for ever.
His lips finally pulled free and she had to stop herself reaching out for more. When her eyes finally opened his blue gaze was on her, his fingers still on her cheek. She’d thought the moment would be gone. But it wasn’t.
It was still exploding in the stars all around.
He smiled at her. People were still shouting in the street beneath their feet, jumping up and down, and a million mobile phones were being held aloft to capture the last few seconds of the firework display.
‘Happy New Year,’ he whispered.
‘Happy New Year,’ she murmured. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. It would probably last for eternity.
They stood for a little while as the firework display came to an end and the lights on the Eiffel Tower finally finished.
He grabbed her hand in his. ‘What say we get away from all this? Do you want to find something to eat? To drink?’
Her eyes flickered towards the far-off sign where she was to meet her friends. People were still tightly packed around it. There was no way she would be able to find her friends, then fight her way back through the crowd to Alex. The choice was simple.
‘Food sounds good.’
The crowd around their feet had dispersed a little. The excitement of the countdown and the end of the fireworks display had sent people dispersing into the surrounding streets.
He jumped down and reached his arms up to catch her around her waist as she sat on the top of the wall, and he placed her gently on the ground.
Getting through the crowd was much easier with Alex in charge. No one seemed to argue with a broad-shouldered, six-foot-four man. He swept her along easily, pulling her behind until most of the crowd was behind them.
For a few seconds she thought there was a strange group of men behind her—all in black, with earpieces. But seconds later they’d vanished and she forgot about them.
By the time they reached Avenue George V the street was still busy but the crowd was gradually beginning to thin out. There were a number of open restaurants and cafés still serving customers. Alex hesitated a second outside of the door of the Four Seasons, then pulled her over to one of the other nearby restaurants with tables on the street.
He pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down. She rubbed her hands together and smiled at his good manners. It had been a while since she’d met anyone who’d pull out a chair for her.
‘Are you cold? We can sit inside.’ He pointed at her fingers.
‘No, it’s fine.’ The restaurant looked claustrophobic, packed with people. It was strange, but outside seemed more private.
A waiter appeared quickly and nodded to Alex.
‘What would you like, Ruby? Wine? coffee?’ He picked up a menu. ‘Food?’
She smiled. ‘I’ll have a cocktail.’ Her eyes scanned the menu. ‘I’ll have a Royal Pink Circus—and the biggest piece of cake they’ve got.’
Alex grinned and reached forward and grabbed the menu. ‘What is that? Hmm...vodka, champagne, raspberries and violet syrup. Interesting choice.’
He turned and spoke in rapid French to the waiter.
Under the warm light from the restaurant she got a clear view of the man she’d just kissed. Under dim lights he’d been gorgeous. Under street lights...wow.
She couldn’t help but smile. No phone. No camera to record the moment. Typical. Her friends would never believe this. His blue eyes stood out even from across the table, complemented by the lightly tanned skin she hadn’t noticed before and the shadow along his chin.
‘So, what plans do you have?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t have my phone so I can’t contact my friends.’ She waved her arm. ‘But it’s fine. I know where I am from here. I can find my way back to my hotel.’
She gestured towards the Four Seasons.
‘For a second I thought you were going to take me in there.’ She glanced down at her red wool coat, jeans and boots. ‘Somehow I don’t think I would have got inside.’
He gave a little shake of his head. ‘Oh, you would have got inside.’ He reached over and took her hand. ‘But I wasn’t talking about right now. How long are you in Paris?’
Mysterious Alex was getting better by the second. He actually wanted to know if she was staying.
‘Just another two days. We go home on Friday. What about you?’
‘I don’t really have a fixed timetable. I can go home any time. Do you want to do some sightseeing for the next two days? See a little more of Paris before you go home?’
Her heart gave a little leap. She was here with a group of friends, but Polly wouldn’t mind if she spent some time with a sexy French guy—in fact after this last year she’d probably encourage her.
She nodded as the waiter appeared. ‘That sounds fun.’
He set down the raspberry cocktail in a sugar-frosted glass. She took a tiny sip. The alcohol was stronger than she’d expected and the bubbles from the champagne flew up her nose. She choked and laughed.
‘Wow! This Royal Pink Circus is a doozy!’
‘What does that mean?’ asked Alex as he took a sip of his beer.
‘You know—extraordinary, spectacular. A doozy.’
Next came the cake. If it could even be described as that. This was no delicate petit-four. This was honest-to-goodness the biggest piece of cake in the universe. Seven layers of sponge, cream, raspberries and sauce.
She picked up her fork and took a bite. ‘Oh, wow...’ She leaned back in the chair. It had been hours since she’d had dinner. Alex was smiling at her again, with a twinkle in his eye. ‘Would you like a piece? This is to die for.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t let me deprive you. I’m getting enough pleasure seeing the look on your face.’
‘Didn’t you order anything?’ She waved at the empty space in front of him, poising her fork above the cake again.
‘I did, but I asked the waiter to bring your cake first.’
She swallowed another heavenly spoonful, ‘I could get used to this kind of consideration, you know.’
Something flickered across his face that made her wonder if she’d made some kind of dreadful faux pas.
But Alex just nodded in agreement. ‘And I think I could get used to Ruby Wetherspoon, who knows how to eat a piece of cake.’
She licked her fork. ‘What? Do the people around you not eat?’
He lifted his eyebrows as the waiter reappeared and put a plate down in front of him, with the biggest BLT and portion of French fries she’d seen in a long time. She reached over and grabbed a fry.
‘Not like you,’ came his amused reply.
She shrugged. ‘They certainly don’t skimp on portions here. I’ll need to remember this place. What’s it called?’ She looked at the name and screwed up her face. ‘Too difficult. I’ll just need to remember it’s next to the fairytale hotel.’
‘The fairytale hotel?’ He’d started to eat and was making short work of the fries.
She nodded her head sideways. ‘Yeah, next door. Isn’t that the hotel every little girl wants to stay in when she comes to Paris?’
‘I thought that was Cinderella’s Castle at Disneyland?’
‘Yeah, well. I’m older now. Tastes change.’ She eyed her cocktail again. ‘You know, you’re going to hate me. But this is going straight to my head. Do you think I could order a coffee instead?’
He gave a wave of his hand and ordered her a coffee.
The cocktail might be a little strong, but the cake was perfect. The restaurant was perfect. The ambience in the street was perfect. And Alex...? Even more perfect.
‘Have you been up the Eiffel Tower yet?’ he asked.
She nodded, then leaned across the table and whispered, ‘Don’t tell anyone, but I thought I was going to be sick. It was okay looking into the distance, but when I looked down...’ She made a swaying motion in her seat and shook her head. ‘Bad idea.’
He laughed. ‘And have you been to Versailles and the Louvre?’
She nodded. ‘I queued for ever to see the Mona Lisa.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘What did you think?’
She wrinkled her nose. ‘Honestly? Smaller than I expected—and a bit dark. But do you know the strangest thing? I still wanted to reach out and touch it.’
‘She mesmerised you. Just like she did Leonardo. What about Notre Dame? Have you been there yet?’
She nodded again.
He held up his knife and fork. ‘How long have you been here?’
‘Just a few days. We’ve tried to cram in as much as possible.’
‘Is there anywhere you’d still like to see?’
‘Of course! This is Paris.’ She counted off on her fingers, ‘I still want to visit the Sacré Coeur and Montmartre—oh, and the Père Lachaise cemetery.’
He took a drink of his beer. ‘So, I offer to take you sightseeing and you want to visit dead people?’
He slid down in his chair a little—he seemed to be relaxing more and more as their conversation continued.
‘Well, I guess I bring out the best in you.’
She laughed. ‘It’s supposed to be beautiful—enchanting. Haven’t you ever walked around a cemetery before? In the summer it can be so peaceful. I actually quite like wandering around and looking at the inscriptions in the gravestones. There’s a few in our local church that have a skull and crossbones on them, showing that people had the plague. It’s fascinating.’
His smile spread from ear to ear. ‘Ruby, every time I think I might know you a little you say something else that surprises me.’
‘Is that bad?’
He shook his head. ‘No, it’s good. Very good.’ He reached over and took her hand. ‘I’m sure I can find some things in the next two days for us to visit.’
‘But today’s New Year’s Day. Everywhere will be closed.’
‘Don’t worry about that. I’ll work something out.’
She was so wrapped up in him—in the way he was smiling at her, the way he was flirting with her—that she almost didn’t notice the men in long black coats until they were almost on top of them.
One of them put a black-gloved hand sternly on Alex’s shoulder, bent down and spoke quietly in his ear. She couldn’t make out a word.
‘Alex? What’s wrong? Who is this?’
The expression on his face changed instantly. First it was a flare of anger, then it was a pure panic. He stood up, sending his chair flying.
‘Alex?’
The black-coated man barely even acknowledged her presence.
‘Ruby, I’m sorry—I have to go.’ He fumbled in his coat for his phone. ‘Give me your number. I’ll call you.’
Her hands went automatically to her bag. No phone. She’d lost it.
‘I don’t have my phone, and I can’t remember what my number is.’
She felt like an idiot. Everyone should know their mobile number. And she did—she had it written down at home—but right now she couldn’t tell him if her life depended on it.
‘What’s wrong, Alex?’
He shook his head. He wasn’t focused on her any more. He looked shocked.
‘It’s my family. Tell me where you’re staying. I’ll send you a message.’
She rattled off the name of the low-budget hotel where they were staying. He mumbled something to the man behind him.
‘I’m sorry. I need to go. I’ll send you a message later.’
He walked around to her side of the table and bent to kiss her. It was the briefest moment, but his lips came into contact with hers in the lightest of kisses. A brush like a butterfly’s wings.
And then he was gone.
Surrounded by black coats, disappearing down the street.
The fairytale was over.
January
Ruby crashed through the door with her shopping bags, work folders and uniform over her arm.
Polly was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, eating a plate of noodles. She nodded towards the kitchen. ‘Come and sit down, Ms Misery. Noodles in the pot and wine in the fridge.’
She was knackered. Honestly and truly exhausted. Between the long hours and the killer commute every day, this job was proving tougher than she’d ever thought. But today had been a winner. Today she’d finally believed that her work had helped a patient regain a little part of his speech. ‘No’ had been the finest word she’d heard in a while.
She poured the wine and tipped the rest of the noodles into a bowl, kicking off her shoes and thudding down sofa next to Polly. ‘What are you watching?’
‘Just the news. How was your day?’
She put the first spoonful of noodles into her mouth. It was like a chilli explosion. Polly had a penchant for spicy foods, and as she was the cook in the house Ruby was getting used to it. She took a few quick gulps of wine to try and quell the burn.
Her eyes flickered to the screen and she inhaled quickly, coughing and spluttering as her noodles went down the wrong way.
Polly turned and laughed, leaning over and slapping her hand on Ruby’s back. ‘Was the chilli kick that strong?’
But Ruby couldn’t answer. Her eyes were streaming. She swallowed as best she could. ‘Turn that up,’ she said, pointing at the screen.
‘What?’ Polly mumbled, her mouth still full of food.
‘Turn it up!’
She started throwing cushions and newspapers around, searching for the TV remote, which seemed to have an innate ability to hide whenever she left the house. Finally she spied it, hiding part-way under the sofa. She pointed it at the TV and pressed the volume button hard.
Polly just stared at her open-mouthed.
‘There are unconfirmed reports that King Leopold of Euronia is seriously unwell.
‘The normally quiet principality has seen a flurry of activity in the last few days as private jets have been seen landing at the state airport. Crown Prince Alexander has returned home after a recent sojourn in the US, where he was apparently working with MIT and Harvard University.
‘Prince Alexander, the only child of widowed King Leopold, is rarely seen. He is an astute businessman who is passionate about his country. Rumours have circulated in the last few years about King Leopold’s declining health and his lessening public engagements.
‘Crown Prince Alexander was seen returning in a private jet in the early hours of New Year’s morning, quickly followed by dignitaries from the surrounding area. We’ve been told to expect a statement in the next few minutes.’
‘It’s him,’ Ruby croaked, pointing at the screen. ‘It’s Alex.’
It was almost as if an elephant had sat on her chest, stopping her breathing.
Polly dropped her fork and bowl on the table. ‘What?’ She glanced from Ruby to the TV and back again. ‘Him? He’s your Alex? Crown Prince...whatever?’
‘Apparently.’
Her throat had dried like an arid desert. She picked up the wine and gulped it down as if it were a glass of water, grimacing as it hit her tastebuds.
Her brain was in overdrive. Tiny words, tiny phrases, looks that had fleeted across his face and disappeared in an instant. Tiny pieces of a jigsaw puzzle she’d had no idea even existed.
A close-up picture of Alex emerging from a plane appeared on the screen and she gasped. He looked awful. He was still handsome, but his tanned skin was pale and there were lines around his eyes—even their blueness had dimmed.
He hadn’t called. He hadn’t left a message at all. At first she’d been irritated. Then, she’d been angry. Finally, she’d admitted to herself she was devastated.
But this was something else entirely. Her fairytale in Paris had never included a real live prince.
Polly started chattering in her ear. ‘No wonder you were miserable. What a catch. Ruby—you kissed a prince!’ She stared back at the screen. ‘I wonder what’s going on.’
The newsreader interrupted the next report mid-story. ‘We’re going to cross live now to Euronia for an announcement.’
A sombre-faced grey-haired, black-suited man stood on a podium. A sign appeared beneath him: ‘Palace Principale’.
‘What does that mean?’ asked Polly.
‘I have no idea.’ Ruby shook her head.
The man started speaking. ‘After consultation with the Crown Council, the principality of Euronia would like to announce that, with immediate effect, Crown Prince Alexander de Castellane will be taking over as Regent of Euronia as His Majesty King Leopold is no longer able to exercise his royal functions. The Crown Prince Alexander will now be known as Prince Regent.’
The picture cut back to the newsreader as he glanced up from reading the piece of paper in his hands. ‘There are unconfirmed reports that King Leopold has suffered a catastrophic stroke, but no one at the palace is willing to comment on his medical condition. We’ll bring you an update whenever we get one.’
Polly turned to face Ruby. ‘Wow. Just...wow.’
Ruby felt sick. Her heart had squeezed when she’d seen the expression on Alex’s face. How on earth must he be feeling?
