‘Good,’ he said briskly. ‘Start packing. I have several calls to make.’
Relieved, she escaped into her small bedroom. With an oblique reference to ‘a family matter’, her volunteer co-ordinator at the drop-in centre expressed regret but understanding. It took only a moment to open an anonymous email account from which she could make the arrangements for her support for Lucia. Packing her belongings took only a moment too. She picked up the antique wooden box Alek had touched and carefully put it into the small backpack she’d used when she’d run away all those years ago. Her clothes fitted easily into the one small suitcase she’d acquired since.
‘That’s everything?’ He stared in frank amazement at her suitcase when she returned to the lounge.
‘I don’t need much.’
‘You’re going to need a little more than that.’ He reached out to take the case from her. ‘It’s probably good that we leave before Fi gets back. Saves on all the questions she’ll have been stockpiling over the last hour.’
But Hester didn’t follow him as he headed towards the door. ‘Are you absolutely certain about this, Your Highness?’
He turned back to face her. ‘Of course I’m certain,’ he said with absolute princely arrogance. ‘And you need to call me Alek.’
‘Okay.’ She hoisted her backpack and walked towards the door.
But he blocked her path. ‘Do it now. Practise so it slips off your tongue naturally. Call me Alek.’
‘I will.’
He still didn’t move to let her past. A frisson of awareness, danger, defiance, shivered within her as she defiantly met his gaze.
‘Say, Alek is wonderful. Now,’ he commanded.
She glared harder at him. ‘Alek is bossy.’
‘Good enough.’ He stepped back, the distance between them enabling her to breathe again. But his slow smile glinted with full wickedness. ‘For now.’
CHAPTER THREE
SWIFT WASN’T THE word for Alek’s modus operandi. When he’d decided something, he moved. Fast.
‘You’re very used to getting your own way,’ Hester said as she followed him downstairs out of the campus residence she’d called home for the last three years.
‘You think?’ He shot her a look. ‘I have the feeling I might not get everything quite on my terms for a while.’
‘Is that such a threat?’ Without thinking, another small smile sparkled free.
‘Not at all,’ he denied with relish. ‘I enjoy a challenge.’
Oh, she wasn’t a challenge. She was never going to be some kind of toy for this notorious playboy. But she forgot any flattening reply she was mulling when she saw the entourage waiting outside. Large, almost armoured vehicles were staffed by a phalanx of ferociously physical suited and booted men armed with earpieces and dark eyewear and who knew what else beneath the black fabric of their jackets. Alek guided her directly to the middle car. She was absurdly glad of its size and comfort, air conditioning and sleek silence. Her pulse hammered as they drove through the streets and she tried to stop herself snatching looks at him.
Lucia and Zoe will be secure and together.
That was what she needed to focus on. Not his dimples.
But her nerves mounted. The fluttering in her tummy was because she’d never flown in a plane before, that was all.
That’s not all.
This whole thing was insane. She needed to tell him she’d made a mistake. Back out and beg him to help that family—surely he would once he heard about Lucia’s struggle?
‘Okay?’ Alek was watching her with astute amusement.
She thought about Lucia and Zoe again. She thought about living on a warm island for a while. She thought about full financial freedom and independence for the rest of her life.
‘Okay.’ She nodded.
They went through a side door of the airport terminal. A uniformed woman escorted them directly to the plane.
‘Everyone is aboard?’ Alek asked.
‘Yes, sir. We’re cleared for departure as soon as you’re seated.’
Hester paused in the doorway and frowned. This wasn’t a small private jet like ones she’d seen in the movies. This was a commercial airliner. Except it wasn’t. There weren’t rows of cramped seats and masses of people. This was a lounge with sofas and small armchairs around wooden tables. Accented with back-lit marble and mirrors, it was so beautiful, it was like a hotel.
She gaped. ‘Is this really a plane?’
He smiled as he gestured for her to sit in one of the wide white leather armchairs and showed her where the seat belt hid. ‘I’ll give you the tour once we’re in the air. Can I take your bag?’
‘Can I keep it with me?’ Her box was in there and it contained her most precious things.
‘In this compartment, here.’ He stowed it and took the seat opposite hers. ‘I’ve arranged for a stylist to fly with us, so you can make a start, and I’ve had an assistant pull together a report on some key staffers so you can get ahead of the game on who’s who at the palace.’ He pulled a tablet from another hidden compartment. ‘I don’t find the palace intimidating, but I was born there so it’s normal for me.’ He shrugged his shoulders.
She nodded, unable to speak or smile. It was enough effort to stay calm. Was she really about to leave the country? About to marry a man who was destined to become a king? About to launch into the air in a giant tin can?
‘Nervous?’
‘Of course,’ she muttered honestly. ‘But once I’ve done some preparation I’ll feel better.’
His pilots would have years of expertise behind them. She breathed carefully, managing her emotions. After a while she could glance out of the window. They’d climbed steeply and now the plane levelled out.
‘Follow me,’ Alek said, unfastening his seat belt.
She fumbled and he reached across and undid her belt for her.
‘Are you—?’
‘I’m fine,’ she interrupted and quickly stood, taking a pace away from him. He was too close and she was unable to process the spaciousness. ‘Are all private planes this big?’
‘No,’ he smirked. ‘Mine’s the biggest.’
‘Of course it is,’ she muttered. ‘Your ego could handle nothing less.’
‘Miaow.’ He laughed. ‘I see why you’re friends with that grumpy cat.’
Beyond the private lounge he pointed out a bedroom suite—with more marble and mirrors—then led her through another lounge to another cabin that was more like the business-class seating she’d seen in the movies. Half the seats were full—several of those suited bodyguard types, then others who looked like assistants. As she and Alek neared, they all scrambled to stand.
‘Please.’ Alek smiled and gestured for them to remain seated. ‘Is your team ready, Billie?’
‘Of course, Your Highness.’ A slim jeans-clad woman stood, as did another couple of people.
‘This is Hester,’ Alek said briefly when they were back in the second lounge. ‘I’ll leave you to introduce your team. Please take good care of her.’ He sent her a small mocking smile and headed back to the front of the plane.
That was it? There were no instructions? She had no idea what she was supposed to do.
‘We’re here to help you, Ms Moss,’ Billie said confidently.
And there was indeed a team. A hairdresser, a make-up artist, a beautician and a tailor. They were doing a wonderful job of hiding their curiosity but it was so strong she could almost taste it.
‘Would you mind if we untie your hair?’
Hester paused. She had to trust Alek’s choice, and in their professionalism. ‘Of course.’ She pulled the elastic tie to free her ponytail. ‘I just need you to make me presentable as consort to the King.’
All four of them just stared at her, making her feel awkward.
‘That’s not going to be a problem,’ Bil
lie replied after endless seconds. ‘Not a problem.’
She didn’t pretend she could reach for anything more than presentable. But she’d been around Princess Fiorella long enough to understand a few tricks. Tailored clothing and some polish could make her passable.