Princess, Without Cover (2 page)

Christian beat her, of course. He made it down the long stairway in three seconds flat. He threw the front door open, paid for the pizza and they collapsed on the floor in the foyer with the pizza box, not even bothering to get plates from the kitchen. 

Sydney grinned over a slice of pizza, catching the dripping cheese with her tongue. 

“You’re right.  We could never do this at my house. My mom would have a stroke.”

Holding a finger up in the air, she appeared to get into character for a performance.  Christian watched in amusement as she stuck her nose into the air, pushed her eyebrows into her hairline and mimicked her mother’s haughty voice.

“Sydney, it is not appropriate for Randall Ross’ daughter to eat pizza on the floor.”

She rolled her eyes as she returned to her pizza, sucking the hot cheese into her mouth.  If she had a dollar for every time she was referred to as “Randall Ross’ daughter,” she would be a millionaire in her own right.

Christian laughed. 

“We couldn’t have done a lot of things at your house today, Syd.  This is only the least of it.  But since
my
parents are out of town…”  His voice trailed off huskily as he reached over and slid his hand up the shirt she was wearing.  It was his and hung on her like a baggy knee-length dress, giving him ample room to maneuver underneath it.  

She pushed his hand away. 

“Again?  I think not.  I have to replenish my energy.  Just because you’re tireless, doesn’t mean everyone in this room is.” 

She batted her eyes playfully at him as she inhaled her second slice of pizza, enjoying the forbidden grease and cheese combination.  The carb count alone would be enough to give her mother a heart attack.  But Sydney couldn’t help but love it.  No one in their right mind could ever say that Chicago had bad pizza.

“You know,” Christian said thoughtfully as he watched her eat, “I think you’re the first girl I’ve ever dated that actually eats in front of me.  And you eat a lot.  I don’t know how you stay so skinny!”  He leaned toward her.  “Except for here.  And here.”  He brushed against her curves with his hand. 

“Christian!  Is that all you ever think about?” she demanded in mock exasperation, knocking his hand away. 

He just laughed. They both knew full well that she was far from aggravated; that it was only a matter of time before her appetite was sated and she responded to him again.

“Why, yes.  Yes, it is.  But at least I’m honest.” Christian’s face was impish as his cobalt eyes twinkled at her.  Those were eyes that a girl could get lost in.  She sighed.

“Yes, at least you’re honest.  Now calm yourself down and let me eat!  Take a cold shower or something.”

They were both laughing until a third, unexpected voice startled them both.

“Mr. Price?!” 

The Price’s housekeeper was frozen in the arched doorway with a look of utter shock on her creased face.  Sydney couldn’t help but giggle.  And then she was promptly embarrassed as she remembered that she was only wearing Christian’s shirt.  She immediately looked down to make sure that her rump was covered, tugging on the hem a little bit just to be on the safe side.  This was one situation in which her long legs were not a blessing.

“Hi, Fran.  Miss Ross here couldn’t wait to get to the table, so we decided to eat right here. She’s got a very voracious appetite.” 

He waggled his eyebrows at his double meaning and Sydney’s cheeks burned.  Christian’s humor was apparent and Sydney just hoped that Fran hadn’t caught the entendre.

“Don’t stare, Fran.  You don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” 

He winked at the maid, who was still staring at them in cliché-like astonishment. Her mouth was even hanging open a little bit. Sydney hid another giggle.  She couldn’t help it. She laughed when she was nervous. It had gotten her into trouble more than a few times in her life.

“And I don’t think my father needs to hear about this, don’t you agree?  In fact, why don’t you take the rest of the evening off?  You deserve it. You work too hard. And have I mentioned that you look beautiful today?” 

Christian winked again and Fran shook her head, finally smiling at him, even though having a half-dressed girl in the house was clearly against the rules.  Even if the girl was Sydney Ross.  Actually, probably especially then. His parents wouldn’t want him involved in any kind of political scandal.

“Mr. Price, your shenanigans are going to get me fired yet!”

The disgruntled housekeeper turned on her heel and left the room, her gray curls still shaking and muttering under her breath, but leaving them alone.  Christian turned to Sydney with a perfectly straight face.

“Is shenanigans a word?” he asked her and then grinned.

Sydney shook her head, even though she couldn’t help but smile at the same time. Christian’s humor was infectious. 

“You know, this does put her in a tough spot.  You really could get her fired one of these days and I’m sure she needs her job.  I should go.”  She started to get up.

He grabbed her arm.  “No, don’t.  You know she’s been with us forever.  My parents would never fire her and she won’t bother us again tonight.  Please?  Stay a while longer?”

His eyes were beseeching and Sydney felt herself relent.  Once again.  She couldn’t seem to help herself.  She wasn’t good at telling him no.  She let herself sink back onto the floor.

“How do you know that she won’t bother us again tonight?  How many other girls have you had here like this?” 

Sydney was only half-joking.  Christian definitely had a reputation for being a playboy.  That was something she had been quite aware of when she started dating him. For some reason, it had been part of the allure… to see if she could get him and keep him.  It hadn’t taken her long, which surprised her.  And they had been together for five months now, a record for both of them.

“What?” His voice was full of exaggerated innocence.  “Me?  You’ve got to be kidding.  Sydney, you’re my first.” 

The over-emphasized expression of outrage on his face cracked her up and she reached over to trail her fingers through his dark hair, which he interpreted as an open invitation and moved closer to her. She promptly shrugged out of his reach.

“Um, right.  Seriously.  How many other girls has Fran seen you with?” 

“Well, that’s a difficult question, really.  She’s getting older and her eyesight is getting bad…” He stopped talking as he pushed her over and gently pinned her down, nuzzling the side of her neck.  “Besides, that doesn’t matter anymore.  I’m with you now. And you smell really good…what is that?  Chanel no. 5?” His voice trailed off as he kissed further down on her neck.

“Close.  It’s Chanel Mademoiselle and it matters to me, Christian.  You were my first.  Girls always remember that.  It’s special.  I want you to remember me, too.  I don’t want to be just another girl that Fran walked in on.” She sighed as he nuzzled even further down on her neck toward her breasts.   “I can’t focus if you keep doing that.”

He chuckled and mumbled, “That’s sort of the point, Syd.” 

She closed her eyes as his hands slid over her hips.  She’d worry about it later.  The stone tiles of the foyer were rough against her back, but she was oblivious to it.  All she concentrated on was the warm, delicious weight of Christian’s body as he moved against her. 

*  *  *

Sunshine flooded her bedroom, filling every possible crevice with light, just like it did every other afternoon.  It was cheerful, optimistic and really, really bright.

Sydney squinted as sat up in her bed and then promptly clutched her stomach.  It rolled harshly as her mother continued opening the blinds.  She was sure that if she looked into a mirror, her skin would appear gray.  In fact, she felt like the epitome of the word ‘ashen,’ as nausea and dizziness overwhelmed her and she groaned.      

“Sydney?  You cannot lie around in bed all day.  We’ve got a photo-shoot for your father’s new campaign mailing in an hour. You’ve got to move.”  Jillian’s eyes did a quick once-over of her daughter and she paused mid-step.

“Are you ill? You’ve got dark circles.” 

It was clear that she was more appalled than concerned.  If Sydney was sick, she wouldn’t photograph well. They needed to portray the perfect all-American family for the photos, just like always.  

“I don’t feel well at all,” Sydney moaned as she fell back against her pillows. “And it won’t go away.  I’ve had this stupid bug ever since I was at Christian’s a couple of weeks ago.  At first, I thought I just ate too much or the pizza sauce was bad or something but that can’t be it. I’ve had it too long. And I’m tired constantly. Maybe I have something like mono.  Is that possible?”

She looked at her mother questioningly.  “I should probably go to the doctor.”

“Oh, that would be just perfect, Sydney.  Then I would have to explain to the world how you got Kissing Disease.”

Her mother was curt and unsympathetic as she stalked into Sydney’s closet to yank clothes off the rack for her daughter to wear.

“Pull yourself together. You need to shower. You look like death.”  She tossed a cream colored v-neck sweater and a pair of linen slacks on the foot of the bed.

“Ugh.  I feel like death, too.” Sydney groaned as she stared up at the ceiling.

She swallowed hard to battle the waves of nausea that threatened to overtake her.  It didn’t help. Saliva was pooling in her mouth and her breath smelled sour.  The room started spinning around her and she suddenly couldn’t contain it. She lunged out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom before she started heaving.  When she was finished, she curled up into a ball and rested her cheek on the cool marble floor. 

“Mom?” She croaked hoarsely. “I don’t think I can do the photo shoot today. I feel awful.” 

Jillian loomed in the bathroom door for a moment before tentatively approaching Sydney.  She quickly laid the back of her elegant hand on Sydney’s forehead.  “No fever.  Do you have a sore throat?”  As she asked, she backed quickly away, as though Sydney might have the plague.

“No.  I just feel like I’m going to die any minute. I’m so nauseous!”

Her mother suddenly froze mid-step as a thought occurred to her. 

“Sydney, last month, when you were taking antibiotics for that ear infection, did you and Christian use condoms?  And don’t try telling me that you don’t have sex.  I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen the birth control pills.”

She gestured toward the innocent looking little pink and white packet sitting innocuously next to Sydney’s bathroom sink.

Sydney was instantly uncomfortable, feeling as though she was five years old instead of seventeen. 

“Since I’m on the pill and we’re only with each other… no. We don’t use condoms.” 

She faltered as she saw the glacial look on her mother’s face.   “I know that’s bad, but-”

“Sydney, when was your last period?” Jillian interrupted in a voice that dripped icicles.

Sydney stared at her mother in shock at the implication of the question. 

“I don’t know.  I’m not very regular.  It’s been a couple of months, I think.” 

Her mother’s face hardened into stone, her mouth a straight, creased line. 

Sydney was quick to add, “But that’s normal for me.  Like I said, I’m not regular. And I’m on the pill.  I’ve never missed taking one.”

“You’re an idiot, Sydney.  How could you be so careless?  Antibiotics can negate the effect of the pill.  Wait in here.  Do
not
come out of this room.” 

Her mother’s voice was so icy, that Sydney didn’t bother to assure her that she wasn’t going anywhere.  She couldn’t if she wanted to. She felt too ill to stand up. She simply lay with her cheek pressed pathetically against the floor until her mother returned thirty minutes later. 

She sat up shakily as Jillian roughly thrust a small box into her hands, trying to ignore the fact that the room was spinning.

“Here.  Take this.  I’ll wait out here.”

Her mother turned her back on her and stalked out without another word.

As Sydney hovered over the toilet, trying to pee on the plastic stick and not her fingers, her sole humorless thought was that wagging her butt over a toilet was definitely not the behavior of a senator’s daughter.  She sat back down on the cool floor to wait, her head leaned back against the wall and her slender arms wrapped tightly around her knees. 

Barely two minutes later, her mother burst back through the door to find Sydney staring in blank fixation at the urine saturated stick in her hand. 

“Well?” Jillian demanded impatiently. 

Sydney wordlessly turned the pregnancy test toward her. 

There were two blue lines. 

CHAPTER TWO

Well, today was as good a day as any to die, she supposed.  As Sydney glanced around the room, she only saw people that wanted to kill her.  Several of them in fact.  She might as well be facing a firing squad. Her precarious situation had the same deadly implications.

Even though the Ross family had smiled and acted as though nothing was amiss in front of their photographer, Sydney had needed to duck out and run for the bathroom several times.  During one such time, Jillian had taken the liberty of calling Christian’s parents.  They were now sitting stone-faced next to Christian and across the table from Sydney in her father’s den. 

Her own parents sat next to the Price’s, leaving Sydney to sit all by herself, facing everyone else alone. Right now, she felt as though it was Sydney Ross against the world…the condemned facing the executioner. 

Her father’s distinguished face was rigid and stern.  He alternated between glaring at his daughter and then at the boy who had dishonored her, as though he couldn’t decide who he was more furious with.  Sydney couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze or anyone else’s, for that matter. 

The tension in the room was palpable.  Even Christian was uncharacteristically sober. She felt horrible that she hadn’t even been able to tell him the news herself.  He kept glancing at her, but his face was so guarded that she had no way of gauging how upset he was.  She wondered what he was thinking.  Was he angry with her?   Was he going to be supportive?  She flickered a glance toward him again.  He was staring at his hands quietly.