Royally Lost (3 page)

4

This
was the guy she’d seen in the store yesterday and later on his motorcycle.

She offered him a stunned smile. He wore a dark gray T-shirt with foreign words written on the front, a couple days’ beard growth, and a backpack. His sunglasses were hooked over the neck of his T-shirt.

This was definitely the same guy she saw yesterday, but that was in Budapest. Now they were in Vienna. Austria.

“Oh, ah.” She smiled politely as if not totally flustered by his presence. “I’m just trying to find the Hofburg Palace.” She didn’t want to admit that until he showed up, all she really wanted was to find some french fries, close her eyes, and fantasize she was back home. Instead, she offered him the map.

The edge of his mouth curled and her stomach turned a little flip. “It’s okay. I know where it is. It’s that way.” He pointed in the direction behind Becca.

She followed his gaze. “No,” she said, sure he was mistaken. “Look.” She pointed at the map. “St. Stephen’s church, where I started from, is here. I came from this direction, so the palace has to be that way.” She indicated the opposite direction.

Laughter lit his eyes. “No. I’m sorry, but it’s not.” He placed a long finger where the church was labeled on the map. “Here’s the St. Stephen’s Cathedral, and the Hofburg is here.” He slid his finger to the palace. “And we are standing right here.” He indicated an area several blocks away from the two historic landmarks.

Her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out how she ended up so far off track.

“Look here.” He lowered his head as he examined the map. “We’re at the corner of Teinfaltstrasse and Schreyvogelgasse.”

She enjoyed the close-up view of him. The way his hair lay at the nape of his neck, and he smelled good. All guy.

“See?” He raised his gorgeous eyes to hers and she wanted to dive in.

“Oh,” she answered. She couldn’t give a flip about the names of the streets or the map.

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes warm and inviting. He checked his watch. “Would you like me to take you there?”

Hell, yes!

“Sure. That is, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to keep you from anything.” Shivers of excitement ran up her arms.

He laughed. “Not at all. My schedule is wide open. Oh, and by the way, I’m Nikolai.”

Becca took his outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Becca.” His grip was firm, yet gentle. She noticed the softness of his skin and the light tan of summer on the back of his hand.

“Hi, Becca. Nice to meet you.” He released her hand and gestured in the direction of the palace.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I’m pretty sure I bumped into you yesterday,” she said.

“In Budapest.” He smiled.

“Yes! I thought you were the same person.”

“The palace is this way. It won’t take but a few minutes to get there.” He indicated the direction and they began walking.

“So yesterday you were in Budapest and now you’re in Vienna, same as me. You’re not following me, are you?” she asked, thinking of the movie where the young girl is taken.

Considering the number of tour buses and the riverboat she’d been on since yesterday, it didn’t seem possible he was a stalker. Plus, everything about him oozed nice guy. Not that she hadn’t been wrong about guys before.

“No. I’m not following you.” Nikolai laughed. But he might like to. She seemed nice and was certainly beautiful.

He was used to being stalked by the press, and the last two days without them had been so relaxing. No scheduled appearances, no advisors, and no cameras.

“So, what are you doing here in Vienna?” she asked.

Nikolai slid his hands into his pockets as they walked; there was suddenly a lightness in his step. “I’m on sort of a holiday. I’m traveling up the Danube.”

“Sort of a holiday? What does that mean?”

“Well,” he sighed, trying to decide how to explain it without actually telling her. “Long story short, I took off without my parents’ permission.”

“Really? I wish I had the guts to do that.”

“I don’t recommend it. There’ll be hell to pay when they catch up with me.”

“Your parents don’t know where you are?” Becca brushed a lock of silky hair behind her ear, revealing her sun-kissed cheek.

“Not yet. I figure they’re giving me a couple days of freedom before they try to track me down and order me home, but that’s not going to happen.” He glanced at the sidewalks, crowded with tourists. At least he hoped that was the case and that they hadn’t already sent a security detail after him.

Becca laughed. “No? Why is that?”

“Because I’m living off the grid, you know, like Jason Bourne.”

“Are you telling me you’re an international spy or, oh no, an assassin?” She feigned a shocked expression.

“Hardly. I’m just another derelict kid avoiding family responsibilities and disappointing my parents.”

He wondered what she’d think if he confessed he was the Prince of Mondovia and had run away like a spoiled child.

“That’s a drag. I take it they’re pretty demanding.”

He nodded, the weight of his birthright pressing on his conscience. “You have no idea.”

“Where is home?”

Nikolai considered lying, but surprised himself when he didn’t. Something about Becca made him relax, not that she’d put two and two together. He couldn’t put his finger on why he trusted Becca, but Americans didn’t really pay attention to European royalty unless it was Prince William or Prince Harry.

“I’m from Mondovia.”

“It sounds familiar. . . .”

“It’s okay, we’re a small country, and not nearly as glamorous as Austria. Most Americans don’t know much about Mondovia. They confuse us with Monaco, Luxembourg, and Montenegro.”

“How do you know I’m American?”

“Besides the fact you’re wearing an American Eagle shirt? You sound American.” He also gestured to the telltale audio box hanging around her neck.

“Oh my God! I forgot I was still wearing this thing.” She whipped the cord over her head, sweeping her thick mane of hair off her shoulder in the process. She stuffed the device in her bag. “Yeah, I guess I scream, ‘American tourist.’ I feel like such an idiot. I mean, I didn’t even want to come on this trip. My dad made me. He said it would be good family bonding, which is such a joke. So far, the bonding has consisted of strained dinner conversation and trying to avoid a retired art history professor on our boat who talks constantly about the history of neoclassical, Rococo, or Baroque styles.”

“And where are your mom and dad now?”

“It’s my dad and my stepmom,” she corrected. “Right about now they are probably downing their second glass of chardonnay with lunch. After that they’re going to some summer home or fourth residence of the eighteenth King of ‘I Couldn’t Care Less,’ and then a classical concert designed to put even the most caffeinated history fanatics to sleep.”

Nikolai laughed. “And they left you to fend for yourself?”

“No. My brother is around here somewhere. He maneuvered my dad into letting us skip out of their afternoon of torture. I was on my way to the Hofburg Palace to get tickets, just in case my dad checks, which is unlikely. Unless my brother, Dylan, lands another speeding ticket or I fail to make the honor roll, Dad wouldn’t know we’re on the same continent.”

A tour group approached on the crowded sidewalk. Their guide carried a tall pole with a bright yellow flag at the top so the distracted tourists in her group could spot her from a distance and wouldn’t get lost.

Nikolai touched Becca’s arm. “Here, let’s step out of the way. These groups are known to take over the streets.” They ducked into a store entryway to avoid the crush. A rack of magazines lined the wall with several stacks of popular newspapers and gossip publications.

His eye was drawn to a picture of himself across the front page of the German paper,
Daily Snoop
. Nikolai stared at the image of himself laughing after a polo match last month in Monaco.

He read the headline.
Prince Nikolai of Mondovia Skips Out on State Dinner
, with a caption,
The palace is tight-lipped on the prince’s mounting list of canceled appearances
.

Crap
.

Becca appeared beside him. “Hey, that guy in the paper looks a lot like you.”

5

“What?
Oh, you think so?” He really didn’t want to go into detail about his identity. For once in his life couldn’t he be a normal guy?

“Who is he?” Becca tried to translate the paper.

Nikolai realized she couldn’t read the German words. “No one important, just a polo player who won the match. Hey, look.” He pointed across the store. “Baseball caps. I need one.” He crossed the shop to the shelf of caps, distracting her from the newspaper. He wouldn’t be flying under the radar for long with his picture plastered on magazine covers.

Becca selected a dark blue cap with
Vienna
stitched across the front. She handed it to him, and he placed it on his head and looked at her. “What do you think?”

She gazed at him, and their eyes met. “It looks good.” Her cheeks blushed and she looked away.

Nikolai hid his grin as he took the cap to the checkout counter. So she liked him, at least a little. It surprised him how much he enjoyed that fact. “Want anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, but he noticed her checking out the candy display. He tossed a bag of M&M’s on the counter, and a couple of candy bars. After paying, he put on the cap and ripped open the bag of candy as they stepped onto the sidewalk. “Want some?”

Becca hesitated, which he found amusing. “What? Afraid to take candy from a stranger?”

“No,” she laughed. He held her hand and poured candy into her palm.

“Before we got sidelined, you were talking about your brother.”

“Oh yes, Dylan. He pretty much does only what he feels like doing. One time my dad set up an interview for an important internship, and Dylan didn’t show. He didn’t cancel it or let my dad know. He just didn’t go. I think the only job he’s ever had was when he was sixteen and wanted to get to know a girl. He got a job at the movie theater where she worked so he could get close to her.”

Nikolai liked how her eyes lit up when she talked. “Did he end up going out with her?”

“Of course, for a month, until he got bored and became interested in someone else. He quit the theater job and started hanging out at the pool to get to know a girl named Tess.”

“Don’t tell me, he faked drowning.”

“How’d you guess?” She popped a candy into her mouth.

“I think I’d like your brother.”

He guided her around a mother who’d stopped her stroller in the middle of the sidewalk.

“So what’s he doing now?”

“Hitting on girls.”

Nikolai didn’t like that her brother left her alone in a big city when she clearly couldn’t find her way around the block.

“Well, I’m glad I saw you. It’s a shame to spend the day in Vienna by yourself.”

He poured more candy in her palm as they passed under an archway. A gathering of people was peeking into an arena.

“What’s everyone looking at?” Becca asked.

“That’s the Spanish Riding School where they house and train the Lipizzan horses. They’re sort of the royalty of horses here in Austria.”

Becca stepped closer to see the majestic white horses trot through their exercises.

“They’re beautiful. But why are there royal horses if there isn’t a king anymore?”

“I don’t know. Tradition, I guess. So much of Europe is anchored in the past.”

“Does your country, Mon . . .” She fumbled over the word.

“Mondovia,” he offered.

“Right, does Mondovia have a king?”

Nikolai’s chest tightened at the mention of his father. “Yes, it does.”

“Really? Does he live in a castle?”

“Sometimes. There are a few palaces around the country, but his main residence is a palace in our capital city, Genoa.”

They continued walking.

“Is he a good king or a bad king?”

“If you’re asking if he chops off people’s heads, no. He doesn’t do anything bad like that.”

“But you don’t like him,” she stated, popping the last candy in her mouth and wiping her hand on her shorts.

He startled. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can tell from your tone that you’re not a fan.”

“It’s not that I don’t like the man, because I do. He’s honorable. I guess it’s just the whole system of having a king and royalty in this day and age.”

This was the oddest conversation he’d ever had, talking about his father as though he didn’t know him.

“But doesn’t he run the country?”

“No. We have parliament with elected officials. It’s a lot like England.”

Becca wrinkled her brow. “So what does the king do?”

“Exactly!” Nikolai crumpled the candy wrapper and tossed it in the trash. “Mostly the king makes appearances. He attends formal dinners, he awards medals, and recognizes achievements.”

Nikolai pictured his future all mapped out before him in a carbon copy of his father’s. “I guess he’s just there to make people feel that Mondovia is something special.”

“That sounds like the most boring job I’ve ever heard of.”

He sighed. “Yes, it is. They hold on to the old traditions even when it no longer makes sense.”

“See, that’s what I hate about history. People hang on to it like the old ways were the best. Can you imagine if we did that with medicine or technology? Progress, people!” she said, raising her hands in the air.

“I like the way you think. Some countries have embraced the changing times better than others. Here in Vienna, they honor their history of music, art, and some of the most powerful rulers of their time, and still manage to keep a strong economy based on industry and technology.”

If only Mondovia could learn to honor its past, and yet live in the present, Nikolai’s life would be much better.

Becca stepped around a man lighting a cigarette. “How do you know all this stuff?”

“You mean the history? School, I suppose.” Or maybe living it every day.

“But you’re not even from here! I don’t know how you can remember the history of other countries. I can’t tell you a thing about Canada other than they play a lot of hockey there. History is my worst subject. I barely pulled off a B last semester.”

“I guess I have a natural gift. Come on, the Hofburg is up ahead.”

They approached the grand entrance to the palace. Nikolai had been here a couple of times over the years for some formal dinner or event but never as a tourist. The Hofburg was still considered the heart of royalty in this part of the world.

Being surrounded by so many people would normally drive him crazy, but now he realized they didn’t know or care who he was. He didn’t act or dress royal, so he blended in with the rest of the tourists.

When they reached the ticket booth, Becca stepped forward and bought admission for two. She slipped the change in her pocket and waved the tickets. “My free passes for the day.”

“So now that you are officially free, what do you plan to do?” he asked, not ready to say good-bye to this quirky, opinionated girl.

“I hadn’t really thought that far ahead. I don’t know.”

“We could take the tour. I mean, you’ve got the tickets, and then maybe we could spend the afternoon together. If you want to.” His pulse raced as he waited for her response. He wasn’t used to worrying if a girl might turn him down.

“I’d like that.” She smiled, and he found himself mesmerized by her doe eyes and long lashes. “Hopefully it doesn’t suck too much.”

“How about we do the speed version of the tour and then go find something to eat?”

“Okay.”

“And maybe a little Habsburg history will rub off on you.”

“Nah, I doubt it,” she laughed. “Hang on a sec while I text my brother and tell him what’s going on.”

After Becca sent her message, they entered through the gigantic doors of the palace and came upon two large portraits, one of a woman, the other a man. Below, a plaque commemorated Maria Theresa, Holy Roman Empress and her son, Joseph, Holy Roman Emperor of the Habsburg Dynasty.

“So what’s the big deal with this Maria Theresa chick I keep hearing about? I’ve never heard of her before today.”

“Seriously? Maria Theresa’s power touched most of Europe. She was one of the most influential European rulers, in part because she married her sixteen children off to other powerful royal families.”

Including his
.

“Huh. So you’re saying there is a lot of inbreeding going on with royalty.”

Nikolai laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far. I can tell you that Marie Antoinette was one of her daughters.”

Becca cringed. “There’s proof that arranged marriages don’t work out.”

“Come on,” he said with a chuckle.

They walked down long halls filled with tapestries and stucco ceilings, and through the offices of former rulers. Becca glanced at the ancient paintings adorning the walls, but seemed unimpressed.

Nikolai didn’t blame her, yet this was the home of his forefathers. As his ancestors stared down from their high-framed perches, they seemed to be asking him the big, important question. Would he follow in their footsteps and hold up his part of the family dynasty? Or would he let them down and become a brief footnote in Mondovian history?

“Look at all those dishes,” Becca said as they entered a room with floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with dishes, pulling his attention back to the present. “No one needs that many plates, and why did they save them? Because honestly, who cares about three-hundred-year-old plates?”

“Becca, you have a gift for stating the obvious. Let’s get out of here.” He led her past the remaining rooms and directly to the exit.

She sighed. “Thank you. I know history is important, but jeesh. Live for today, people! I can’t believe I have another week of this stuff.”

Nikolai wasn’t sure if he agreed with her or wanted to defend his heritage. “Okay, no more history. You’ve paid your dues and have duly suffered, but I must tell you that Vienna, heck, all of Europe, is actually quite modern. It’s not all old.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked.

“So modern that you need to pay every time you want to use a bathroom? That sounds like something out of the Middle Ages.”

He laughed. “I know something that will prove my case.” He led them down the street, away from the Hofburg.

“Where are we going now?”

“You’ll see.” They walked a couple of blocks and took a left turn. He stopped before a small restaurant with large windows and bright golden arches on the sign. “I offer you the modern day, universal symbol of goodwill.”

“French fries!” She laughed, her face lighting up with a gorgeous smile. Nikolai had never seen someone so happy over something so simple in a very long time.

After snacking on french fries and sipping sodas in the most Americanized restaurant on the planet, they headed over to the Naschmarkt. Nikolai had never been there himself, but he saw a flyer for it posted on the wall of the hostel where he’d stayed last night.

They walked through a myriad of local vendor booths that sold everything from pickles and stuffed peppers, to scarves and jewelry.

“So where does your river cruise stop next?”

“I don’t know. We’re at a different port each day. My dad told me, but I’d never even heard of any of the cities.” Becca stopped and ran her hands over the colorful scarves. “If he’d said Paris or Rome, I’d have remembered.”

“I’m afraid Paris and Rome are nowhere near here, so it’s not likely.”

She wrapped a green floral scarf around her neck. “I wish I did remember. Maybe it would be where you’re going. That would be pretty wild. What do you think?” She struck a pose.

He shook his head no to the scarf and handed her a purple one. Considering he had no definite itinerary, and didn’t know her next stops, they would soon be saying good-bye. Becca had been a bright light during this short jaunt of his, and he didn’t really want to say good-bye.

“Aw, I’m sure you’ll find a new guy in every port,” he teased, but hoped it wasn’t true.

Becca tossed the scarf artfully around her neck and peeked in a small mirror hanging on a post.

“Yeah, I’ll get pictures of every new guy. That ought to show my ex-boyfriend.” She turned to the woman running the booth. “I like this. I’ll take it.”

“Allow me,” Nikolai said.

“What? Why?” She looked dumbfounded.

“As a souvenir of our afternoon together.” He handed the euros to the saleswoman. “And for the record, your boyfriend was a fool to let you go.”

Becca dipped her head and spoke softly. “Thanks.”

They walked on in silence until she pointed up ahead. “There’s my brother.”

Nikolai swallowed down his disappointment that they’d found him so soon.

“Hey, Dylan,” Becca said as they caught up.

Dylan sat on a high stool at an open-air pub talking to two attractive blondes, one with a mass of loose curls framing her porcelain face, the other with long straight hair that she twirled around her finger. Neither appealed to Nikolai like Becca.

“Hey, Becs.” Dylan’s eyes wandered to Nikolai and gave him a quick once-over.

“Hey. This is Nikolai,” she said.

“Hi.” Nikolai offered his hand.

“Hi.” Dylan stood and gave him a firm handshake. “This is Aneka and Hannah. They’re from Denmark.”

Nikolai pulled his cap lower as they exchanged greetings. To his relief, the European girls paid him no attention.

“So tell me, Becca. You got lost and this poor guy had to help you,” Dylan teased in a brotherly tone familiar to Nikolai.

“Actually,” Nikolai spoke up before Becca could. “I was trying to find the Hofburg and she helped me.”

Becca looked at him in confusion. He lowered his sunglasses for a moment and winked at her.

“No kidding. That’s got to be a first.” Dylan drained his beer. “Well, I hate to say it, but I suppose we should be getting back before the boat takes off without us.” He turned to the Danish girls and said his good-byes.

Nikolai pulled Becca aside. “Thanks for a great afternoon. I had a wonderful time.”

“I doubt that. Showing an American tourist around can’t be that fun.”

“Unless it’s this American tourist.” He smiled and squeezed her hand.

They gazed at each other with unspoken words hanging in the air. Why couldn’t she be staying in Vienna for the week? They could have so much fun. She had helped him feel alive again.