Confessions of a Girl-Next-Door (2 page)

“It’s been a long time.”

She had the nerve to smile, which caused his teeth to clench. After all these years, he still felt betrayed, even if he also understood why she’d misled him. She hadn’t owed him the truth.

That didn’t stop him from wanting an explanation now. “Why are you here?”

Her smile disappeared. Her composure slipped. “I needed to get away. I needed … a holiday.”

He could read between both the lines in her words and the one now denting the flesh between her eyes. She wanted normalcy. Anonymity.

That’s what her American grandmother had been after, too, when she’d insisted Holly spend her summers on the island when she was a girl. From ages ten through fifteen, Holly and the older woman had shown up faithfully the second week in June and then stayed through the second week in August, renting the largest and most secluded of the resort’s cottages.

He and Holly had become fast friends when she was ten and he was twelve. When she’d been fifteen to his seventeen, they’d
had more on their minds than seeing who could swim the fastest to the floating dock out in front of his parents’ house.

“So, you nearly killed Hank here? Well, I guess your wish is his command.”

“I coulda said no, Nate,” Hank argued, no doubt perplexed by the irritation in Nate’s tone.

Nate was a little perplexed, too. This anger, these emotions, they belonged to the past. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from adding, “No one says no to a princess, Hank”

The other man looked confused. Holly looked desperate. “I’m just an ordinary woman, Nate.”

The wind gusted, and the waves slapped higher on his thighs. He decided to allow the distinction for now, even though he knew firsthand that nothing about her was ordinary. Hell, he’d known that to be the case even when he hadn’t been privy to her true identity and royal lineage.

He waded the rest of the way to the plane’s float. “Put your arms around my neck.”

“Excuse me?”

Perversely, he enjoyed the fact that her eyes widened.
Nervous, Princess?
he wanted to ask. It would make him feel better
to know that she was as shaken by this unexpected reunion as he was. Instead, Nate nodded in the direction of the shore. “Unless you’d rather walk to the beach, I’ll carry you. I’m guessing those pretty shoes of yours probably aren’t meant to get wet.”

They were red leather flats with fat bows stretched across the toes. He could only guess what they cost. In her world, they would be considered casual. As would the understated linen suit she’d paired with them. In his, they would pass for Sunday best. If this was the kind of clothing she’d brought to blend in with the locals and the majority of tourists, she was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

“Right.” She gave a quick dip of her chin before tilting it up. He remembered that defiant gesture from their childhood. She’d used it whenever he’d issued a dare.

“We don’t have all day,” he prodded when she hesitated. “I have to help Hank secure his plane for the night.”

“I’m not staying,” Hank called from the other side of the Cessna. “Got a card game waiting for me back on the mainland. Gerald’s cousin is in town. Guy is damned unlucky
at poker, but he bets like a Vegas high roller.”

“You’re staying,” Nate disagreed. “One suicide mission an evening is enough. You can bunk at my place.”

Hank cocked his head to one side as if considering. “Got any cold beer?”

“Yeah.”

The other man shrugged. “I guess I can be persuaded. ‘Sides, the guy’s here through the weekend. I’ll settle for picking
your
pocket at cards tonight.”

Nate turned his attention back to Holly and held out his arms. She offered a tentative smile as she reached for him, and then she was in his embrace. She felt a little too good there, a little too perfect, with the side of her body pressed against his chest. Nate recalled the girl she’d been: long-limbed and lithe, verging on skinny. This was no girl he held. While she was still slender, during the intervening years she’d filled out nicely in all of the right places.

He started toward the shore, eager for the safety of the sand so that he could release her. Be free of her? Not likely. Until today, he’d thought he had been. Now? He was
cursing his arrogance. She’d always been there, in the back of his mind.

His stride was purposeful, but perhaps a little too fast given the conditions and the added distraction of a beautiful woman in his arms. She had his hormones starting to lurch as powerfully as the surf. He stubbed his toe on a rock and managed to right his balance only to lose it again entirely when his other foot connected with another one.

“Nate!”

Holly’s grip on his neck tightened to a choke hold as he veered from one side to the other. He tried to right himself, but it was too late. Momentum and waves were working against him. He knew a moment of utter defeat just before he toppled over, sending them both into the chilly, knee-deep water. It was too shallow for her to be submerged completely, but between the waves and the splash their bodies made going down, they were both good and soaked. The hair on one side of her head was slicked to her face. So much for the shoes he’d so chivalrously offered to help save from harm. They likely were as ruined as her oatmeal-colored pant-suit.

He expected outrage from her, perhaps even a good dressing down. She was a princess,

after all. And he was but the owner of a small, albeit well-tended, resort.

But what he heard over the wind as Holly pushed to her feet was laughter. Unrestrained, boisterous laughter.

“That was smooth, Nathaniel. Yes, indeed. Very smooth.” Grinning, she put out a hand, offering to help him up. She looked just then very much like the impish young girl who used to take such delight in playing pranks on him.

Nate felt like an idiot, and he knew he looked ridiculous. That didn’t stop him from clasping her palm. Nor did it prevent him from joining in her mirth as he rose and shoved the hair back from his face. The situation
was
funny, even if it came at his expense.

Behind them, Hank was chortling away, too. Nate groaned. His reputation was toast. Unless he got lucky and the storm took out the phone lines and closed the locals’ favorite tavern, news of this mishap would be the talk of the island before another sunset.

“Sorry about that. I lost my footing.” As they reached the shore, he couldn’t resist adding, “I might have maintained my balance,

but you’ve put on a few pounds since we were kids.”

Holly turned. Her mouth formed an indignant
O
as she thumped his chest with one small fist. “A gentleman isn’t supposed to say such things to a lady.”

Her words, even though they were said in jest, caused him to sober. She was more than a lady, she was a princess. Just that quickly, the gulf between their worlds gaped wide once more.

Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, he said, “I’d better go and give Hank a hand.”

It took no more than fifteen minutes for Nate and the pilot to pull the plane ashore and beach it. Just to be on the safe side, they used the trunk of a big cedar tree that leaned toward the lake as a mooring. The Cessna wouldn’t be going anywhere, despite the coming storm. Nate hoped the same could be said for all of the boats and the several large yachts moored at the resort’s marina. Time would tell.

All the while, Holly waited patiently out of the way, soaked to the skin and shivering, but no complaints passed her lips. And he’d been expecting them. When her luggage was unloaded, her expression was one of chagrin.

“Just how long are you here for?” Nate asked, eyeing the trio of designer bags.

A pair of delicate shoulders rose in a shrug. “Perhaps as much as a week.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “A week, hmm?” He could pack for a week in one small duffel, especially this time of year.

“I wasn’t sure what I would need,” she said.

For a moment he forgot that he was speaking to royalty. She was simply Holly. “Tank tops, shorts, a pair of comfortable walking shoes, maybe a hoodie for cool nights and a swimsuit would do.”

“I packed those …. And a little bit more.”

“So I see.”

The contents of his closet could fit in those bags, but Nate decided to give her a break. After all, he’d been around enough women to know they had a whole different definition for the word
essentials
.

She reached for the smallest bag. It had wheels, not that they would do much good on the sand. “Sorry to be an imposition.”

An interesting choice of words, to be sure.

“Where are you staying?” he asked.

Her expression brightened. “I’d hoped to
rent the cottage Gran and I always stayed in at your parents’ resort.”

“My parents are gone.”

“Gone?” She looked alarmed.

“Retired,” he clarified. “They moved to Florida four years ago.” Just after he’d returned to the island from a job at one of the swankiest hotels in Chicago.

“The resort?”

Normally, it would give Nate great satisfaction to claim ownership and to admit that he’d expanded the place considerably since taking over. But this was
Princess
Hollyn Saldani. He doubted she would be impressed.

“I’m the owner now.”

“Oh.” One syllable that told him how enthused she was, but he’d give her this, she rallied fast. “I was hoping to find a place available.”

“Sorry.” He shook his head slowly, not sure whether he was relieved or disappointed. “We’re all booked up at the moment. In fact, I don’t know that there’s a vacancy anywhere on the island until after the Fourth of July.”

Usually, given how far north the island was, its resorts weren’t full with patrons
until after Independence Day. But this year, warm weather had come early and people from downstate were willing to make the drive and then the short ferry trip from Michigan’s upper peninsula to the island.

“I wasn’t thinking. I should have made arrangements ahead of time,” she murmured. “Do you suppose there are any homes for rent on the island? I’d love to be on the water, of course, but I’ll take what I can get at this point. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

It was an interesting statement coming from a woman who was next in line to the throne of her own kingdom.

“I don’t know of anything offhand. You can check, but given the time of day and the storm, my guess is that most places are closed for the night.” He snorted. “You know the island. Sidewalks pretty much roll up after eight o’clock.”

He imagined she’d grown accustomed to glitzy, late-night parties with exclusive guest lists and the finest gourmet cuisine. Yet she didn’t seem bothered by the prospect of no real nightlife here.

Her smile was nostalgic, damned near fond, when she replied, “Yes, I remember.”

Was that
really
why she’d come?

Sure, she’d told him she needed to get away, but weren’t there all sorts of fancy spas in Europe—and America, for that matter—more likely to fit the bill for a royal retreat than an out-of-the-way island that catered to the needs of middle-class tourists seeking good fishing, great scenery and a slower pace?

Hank reached them then, toting the last of her bags.

“Don’t worry, miss. Nate’s house has plenty of room. You can stay there at least for tonight.” He glanced at Nate for corroboration.

What else could Nate do but nod? The quiet evening at home he’d envisioned just an hour ago now included two overnight guests. He knew from previous experience that Hank snored like a drunken sailor. Nate also knew that it was Holly who would keep him awake this night.

H
OLLY
wasn’t sure what to do since Nate’s invitation was begrudging at best.

That hurt. Not that she’d expected him to greet her with arms wide open. In fact, she hadn’t been expecting to see him at all. She remembered how determined he’d been to leave the island for big-city living. But his displeasure right now was palpable, even if, for just a moment when they’d wound up sitting in the lake, he’d reminded her of the handsome young man who’d made her teenage pulse race with a simple smile.

As tempting as it was to turn down his offer, she had to be pragmatic. As she recalled, the island had a finite number of accommodations available. She would be lucky to find anything else on such short notice, so she followed him and the pilot up the beach.

Tomorrow, she could return to the mainland
if need be. Tonight, she needed a place to stay. Jet lag was catching up with her. And that short flight over from the mainland had left her with white knuckles and a queasy stomach. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have chanced it, especially this late in the day, with no firm reservation and a storm blowing in. She’d not only risked her life, but also the life of the pilot. A fact Nate had been only too happy to point out. Despite what he must think, it wasn’t like Holly to be so thoughtless. But as with every thing the past several days, desperation had her acting out of character.

Her hasty plan’s imperfections were glaringly obvious now. She should have been more thorough in her arrangements before packing her bags and jetting across the Atlantic. That much was clear now. What had been as transparent as glass less than forty-eight hours ago was that she had to get away.

She caught up to Nate and glanced sideways at his stern profile. He wasn’t exactly glad to see her. But it was her own emotions that gave her pause. She wasn’t sure how she felt about seeing him again.

Once upon a time, she’d thought … Mentally, she shook her head. It was foolish to
recall those dreams. They’d been unrealistic then. Now, they were unfathomable. Once again, she felt the grip of destiny tighten around her like a vise. There was no escaping it. Not completely, anyway, even if she hoped to find respite for a few days or a week. Holly groaned.

She didn’t expect it to be heard over the wind, but Nate turned and asked, “Something wrong?”

“No.”

“No?” His brows rose.

His wry expression and disbelieving tone came as a bit of a surprise. Back home no one would have dared to question her—well, except for her mother, who browbeat Holly regularly over the most minute of things. Holly needed to be perfect. Or at least give the illusion of perfection at all times. Interestingly, coming from Nate, she rather enjoyed it. She’d much rather he treated her as an equal, even one with whom he was angry.