Infamous Desire (5 page)

“You must be wondering what I called you out here for,” she says pleasantly.

“Yes.”

“I wanted to meet you … in private.” Her cool brown eyes are appraising. “You are very attractive.”

The underlying tenor suggests ‘but not even close to me’.

Maybe I’m reading too much subtext into everything.

“Thank you,” I say.

“I can see why he likes you. We are like chalk and cheese, you and I. He must relish the contrast.”

“I wouldn’t know. He doesn’t share his preferences with me when it comes to women.”

That is true. Alex doesn’t. He doesn’t talk much about his women in general.

“Are you pregnant?”

Her blunt question takes me unawares. I don’t like what she’s implying either – that Alex is with me just because I’m pregnant.

“No!” I protest. I want to add, “How can you even think of asking me something like that?’ but it would only take the already charged atmosphere in the car up another notch.

“It’s a fair question,” she says.

“But not something you’d ask a total stranger,” I reply pointedly.

“I do have a stake here.”

“But still – ”

It is not the best of starts. Tatiana seems to realize this because her next sentence is conciliatory.

She says, “Anyway, I didn’t call you out here to have an argument over a man.”

I’m a little bolder now. The adrenaline boost was what I needed. “What did you call me out here for, Tatiana?”

“To get to know you. And to let you get to know me. After all, we could be friends in a different life. We are not so dissimilar – you and me. We both love him.”

Funny, but before this, I never thought Tatiana would be capable of loving anyone. But I realize that it is my subconscious that was making her a monster. Of course she’s capable of loving someone. And who more than Alex, who commands attention in every way?

I study her eyes. Her pupils are wells of deep sincerity.

She nods, and her curls bob. “Oh yes, I do love him. I don’t know what you have been led to believe, but I do love him. Just as he has once loved me. You see, I have heard many things about you, Elizabeth. Vile, nasty things. Possibly nastier things than you’ve heard about me.”

A stab of pain shoots through my chest. No one likes to be told bad things about themselves, least of all me. And what she says wears the harsh truth. The press has been nothing short of vindictive in their portrait of me as the penniless gold-digger who is trying to entrap their beloved prince.

It just never occurred to me that someone else would have a less flattering portrait of me than I have of her. I’ve always seen myself as the poor, oppressed underdog in this – never the villainess.

“But I choose to reserve judgment until I get to know you for myself,” she continues.

“And what do you think?” I whisper, my heart thudding.

She smiles mysteriously. “I wouldn’t know. It’s too soon, and I hardly have begun to skim the surface of getting to know you. Often, the affairs of the heart are not revealed for years … and sometimes when it’s too late.”

“I love Alex,” I declare. “It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about me, but it’s the truth and nothing but the simple truth.”

“Well said. I feel the same way about him as well, and it will be nothing but the plain truth.”

So here we are, back at square one. Two adversaries facing off.

What do women do in a case like this?

Simple.

The man chooses.

This fact is obvious in the air between us, and I do not have to mention it to know that Tatiana knows it too.

It occurs to me that the scenery is changing, and we are travelling down a speedway. We whiz past other cars.

“Where are we going?” I say. A perverse thought comes to me – am I being kidnapped?

No, no, banish the thought. This is Moldavia, paean of European culture and sophistication.

Still …

Tatiana says, “I thought I would show you Nuernberg, my city state. At the end of this trip, I hope to be able to convince you, Elizabeth Turner, to cede your claim over my betrothed, Alexander Vassar – for nothing but the greater good. And yes, that includes the greater good for Alex, the people, me, the rest of the royal family, and especially you.”

Nuernberg is landlocked. It is a city state where the language is predominantly German. Unlike Moldavia, whose scenery boasts fashionable streets and casinos and tourists and yachts bobbing upon the glittering Mediterranean, Nuernberg is a notch less glamorous. It has more plains which are grazed by cows, more banks and other financial institutions. Its buildings are more Neo-classical and greyer in stone.

It gives the impression of being more serious than the festive Moldavia.

Tatiana says, “In recent decades, we have lost out to Switzerland in banking and finance. The recent collapse of the European economy has also not been kind to us, and we are far more affected than Moldavia.”

I see. Alex did warn me that his purported engagement to Tatiana was a political ploy.

It’s strange to be discussing the reasons for this proposed marriage so rationally and calmly, when inside, I know I should be fighting tooth and nail to keep my boyfriend.

“It’s clear that Nuernberg will benefit from having stronger ties to Moldavia, but how would Moldavia benefit?” I say.

My fingers are squeezing the fabric of my dress.

“The two city-states complement one another. We have the established private banks, which would do Moldavia well to have a firmer grasp on. We have the security companies. We are not going to be the poorer nation forever, and the King is a long-sighted man who sees this. My father is a Duke, and Nuernberg has always been a duchy. I am his only daughter. I would do whatever he asks of me.”

“So is it more of duty than love that compels you to marry Alex?”

“It started off that way when we were children. But along the way, we became lovers and friends. To answer your question, I do love Alex.” Tatiana’s eyes blaze. “I love him enough to put up with all his indiscretions. Make no mistake – what you have with him is nothing more than a notch in his longstanding rebellion against his father. Honestly, he has not grown up emotionally from his teenage years.”

I wince.

I want so much to believe that it isn’t true, that what Alex and I have is different and real. But I can’t help feeling that there is a kernel of truth in what she is telling me.

Her expression grows sadder.

“Believe me. I have seen them come and go. I have endured them. Every affair is a sledgehammer to my chest, every pap photo a needle in my heart. But I will always stay by his side, like a partner who must love and support him despite his faults.”

I remain silent.

“Would you have done the same for him?” she asks.

I don’t know. I have endured ridicule and scorn. I’ve had my name globally dragged through the mud. But Alex has never cheated on me, nor do I expect him to.

If he does, will I forgive him?

It is not a possibility I’m ready to contemplate. Alex is my first real serious relationship. I have no reference, no yardstick of measurement.

I find my tongue. “You claim to love Alex, but does he love you? So far, I have only heard one-sided declarations. He has never professed to me that he loves you.”

She laughs. It’s a short, painful laugh.

“Please … men will say anything to a woman they currently love. He will make you feel that you are the one and only. But it doesn’t last. Not for him. Trust me, he has done that to me as well, and I also believed him then, with stars in my eyes. I am older now, and wiser.”

She opens her purse and rifles in it. She takes out a greeting card – yellowed at the edges.

“If you don’t believe me, read this for yourself.”

I take it. It’s a Valentine Day’s card. Embossed, grand, with gold trimmings and a heart-shaped decoration in front of it. Inside is Alex’s handwriting. The ink is yellowed with age, but the sentences are still unmistakable.

‘To Tatiana Natasha,

My one and only true love.

Alex.’

Each written word is a hammer to my heart. I’ve wanted to believe so much that I am the only woman Alex has ever said those words to, but it clearly isn’t the case.

“So you see,” Tatiana says, “he doesn’t lie, but he doesn’t tell you the whole truth either.”

“When was this?” I demand. I didn’t mean it to come out brusque, but my hurt spools over and manifests itself in my voice.

“Why should that matter?”

“It does matter. People evolve when they grow older. People do have exes.”

“Exactly. You too may become an ex. It has happened to me … in cycles. Again and again.”

She takes the Valentine card and carefully puts it back in her purse. I can tell by the way she handles it that she truly treasures it.

She loves Alex. She really, really does.

Tatiana says, “Which brings us to my next topic. I think we are clear here that I would like you to leave Alex for the sake of my country and his. Pedigree-wise, I am far better than you can ever hope to be. I’m sorry to have to lay it out so brutally, but it’s the truth and I think you appreciate honesty. I bring sophistication, money, titles and breeding into a marriage. His family loves me, and I will be a very fitting bride to his empire.

“I have lived this life since I was born, so I know how to navigate through it. You are but a babe amongst the wolves. I understand how royalty and politicians think. I know the captains of industry. I am a wonderful hostess. I will be an exemplary royal wife and a Queen our countries will be proud of. I am the wife that Alex needs.”

I am listening. The pain is gathering within me, filling my heart to bursting proportions, but I’m listening.

“Additionally, I understand your concerns. I understand that you may not wish to give up the love of your life so easily. I do not wish you to be compromised when you return to Chicago, seeing the notoriety that you’ve generated. So I’m going to offer you a deal. I understand that your mother is facing financial hardship.”

My eyes narrow.

“If you go back to Chicago – first class, all expenses paid – I am willing to offer you three million US dollars. That will set you and your mother back for life. You needn’t work a day any longer, unless you wish to.”

Her eyes brim with emotion.

“Take it, Elizabeth Turner. Do it for Alex and yourself. This offer may not last forever. If you take it now, you will be three million dollars richer. You are free to start your life again in any way you see fit. But if he dumps you down the line, which he inevitably will because he must bow to royal pressure, you and your mother will have nothing. You will have to go back to America penniless, and with your name besmirched.”

I wander through the next few days in a daze. I told Tatiana I needed to think about it, of course, and she agreed.

Everything she says is true. She has the class, the pedigree, the money, the breeding to be a Queen.

On paper, I can bring nothing to Alex. I have no money, no honored family name. By being with him, I have only brought him strife with his family and people.

I am no good for him. If I love him, I should leave him.

And I do love him. I love him so very, very much.

Do I love him enough to leave him?

The question … and decision … hangs above my head like a proverbial sword.

Alex notices my pensiveness.

“Hey, did you see the papers today?” he says, trying to cheer me up, incorrectly thinking that I’m still affected by bad press. “The tide is turning. Your former employer, Mr. Mango or something … ”

“Mr. Mangorean,” I correct him gently.

“Yes, that’s the one. He says you have always been an exemplary employee. Always punctual, always meticulous, ready to take one for the team if someone calls in sick.”

I smile despite myself. It’s nice to know that not everyone thinks I’m a douchebag.

Alex takes my face in his hands and kisses my forehead. “Hey, I’m in this with you, remember? Us against the world?”

I nod, melting into his warmth. I hug his waist in return.

Oh Alex. It doesn’t have to be you against the world. You don’t have to do this for me.

I think I have already made my decision.

I’m making it because I love Alex more than anything else in my life.

*

I take a deep breath as I dial Tatiana’s private number on my cellphone. She picks it up on first ring.

“Elizabeth?”

“I’ll leave for Chicago.”

There’s a palpable relief on the other side of the phone.

“Wise choice. Text me your bank account number. The money will be transferred to you as soon as you touch down in Chicago, you’ll have my word. The condition is that you will never attempt to contact Alex again or reciprocate if he attempts to contact you.”

“I don’t want the money.”

There’s an astonished silence.

“What did you say?”

“I said I don’t want the money.”

I pause. Somewhere down the line, someone is going to be repeatedly telling me I’m making a huge mistake. But I don’t want tainted money. It isn’t right.

“May I ask why? You do understand the terms of the agreement?”

“Yes. I will never contact Alex again or reciprocate if he attempts to contact me.”

It has happened before. I remember crying in my bed when he stood outside, pleading with me outside my door. That was his first strike against Tatiana.

I don’t hate Tatiana. I don’t think she’s a bad person. I truly think that she will make Alex a good wife. They are both cut from the same cloth.

I am not from his world.

I see that now.

“And yet you don’t want the money?” she says.

“I don’t want the money.” I’ve had this rehearsed speech, but it has blown out of the window, and I’m relying on my raw emotions. “I’m doing this … for him. Because he deserves better than me.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

“You’re a good woman, Elizabeth Turner. I wish we could have met under different circumstances.”

We would probably never have met under different circumstances, I don’t say.