The Playboy Prince (5 page)

And he didn’t think she wanted to give him up, either. Their circumstances might be challenging, but surely they weren’t impossible. Together they could make it work. They could work.

A smile spread across Philippe’s face and his heart beat hard as he considered what he was contemplating. What he intended to do.

Tonight he was going to find Ella…and ask her to be his.

Chapter Nineteen

“Ella, what on earth have you been doing these last few days?”

Ella turned from the coat check at the Bryant Ball to see her boss, Chase Bryant, staring at her with a bemused smile. He looked, she thought, rather awful. Oh, Chase would always be gorgeous, with his blue-green eyes, brown hair and totally toned physique, but now his face was gray and gaunt, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“I’ve been entertaining Prince Philippe, just as you asked me to do,” she said. “What have you been doing, Chase? Sorry to be blunt, but you look terrible.”

“Never mind me. You haven’t seen the tabloids, have you?”

Ella stilled, felt something in her freeze. Perhaps it was her heart. “The tabloids?”

He shook his head with a grimace. “They’ve had a field day.”

“No—”

“You probably don’t want to see—”

“Trust me, I do.”

A few minutes later Chase returned with a handful of celebrity magazines, the kind Philippe featured heavily in. Only now Ella was in them, too. She stared at the fuzzy photographs, a montage of their day together in New York. The restaurant—they’d sat in the window. The very public kiss at Rockefeller Center. Leaving the Guggenheim in a cab, very obviously together.

But the worst part was the headline. Prince Tells All: Exclusive Interview About His Manhattan Fling!

“I’m sorry, Ella,” Chase said quietly.

“No, I’m sorry.” She thrust the magazines away from her. “Sorry I was so stupid…again.” Clearly Philippe had planned it all. Chosen his moments for the perfect photographs. Seduced her—and for what purpose? Did this amuse him? Or did he get something out of it? Did it even matter?

She gave Chase a rather watery smile. “I’ve been totally unprofessional.”

“Never mind that,” he said roughly, giving her a hug, which Ella gratefully returned. Chase had often felt like the big brother she’d never had. “Are you okay?”

“No.” She sniffed. “But I will be.” She was strong. She’d recovered from this kind of betrayal before; she would again. She had to.

“If I’d had any idea this was going to happen—”

“Oh Chase, I’m a grown-up. I’m in charge of my own life and my own heart. I do appreciate the big-brother protective thing you have going, but this is my fault. I never should have—” She swallowed hard, not wanting to finish that sentence.
Fallen in love with the Playboy Prince
.

Chase smiled down at her and wiped a tear that had trickled down her cheek. “You will get over this, sweetheart.”

“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly cut in with steely authority, “but please take your hands off Ella.”

“What—” Ella glanced up, her slack-jawed surprise turning quickly to fury. Prince Philippe stood there, looking like he wanted to punch Chase.

Chapter Twenty

“Prince Philippe.” Chase stepped away from Ella, though he didn’t offer to shake the other man’s hand. “We finally meet. I’m Chase Bryant. I apologize for my delay—”

“Never mind that.” Philippe turned to Ella. “I want to talk to you—”

“And I want to talk to you,” Ella snapped. She dashed the tears from her cheeks and reached for the tabloids. “So this is the true purpose of our little romance, Philippe?”

He stared down at them with a frown, his brows snapping together as he scanned the photos and saw the headline. “Ella—”

“I think I’ll excuse myself,” Chase murmured.

“Please, let us go somewhere private,” Philippe said in a low voice, and Ella nodded. She didn’t really feel like breaking down in the middle of the Bryant Ball.

Philippe led her to a quiet alcove and gazed at her for a long moment, his face serious. “You look beautiful tonight, Ella. Absolutely lovely.”

His words shouldn’t have warmed her, but they did. Ella forced her shoulders back. “It’s a little late for compliments, Philippe.”

“You think I knew about this article? That I actually gave this interview?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You court the press, you’re the Playboy Prince—”

“Not this time. Not with you.”

“Then how—”

“They must have been following me. Ella, I won’t lie to you. The press hound me and I have encouraged it—for the sake of my country.”

She stared at him in disbelief. “The sake of your country?”

“Montvidant has always been shrouded in obscurity. When my sister abdicated, my mother wanted me to bring our country into the limelight, encourage the tourism industry. Everything I’ve done for the newspapers has been for that purpose only.”

She stared at him. “So it’s all been some kind of ruse?”

He smiled crookedly. “More or less.”

“Then who,” Ella whispered, “is the real you?”

Philippe took a step toward her. “The man you’ve come to know these last few days. The man who held you in his arms and kissed you. The man who is falling in love with you.”

Ella shook her head, disbelief warring with hope inside her. “You can’t love me—”

“I want to. Ella, please give me a chance. Give us a chance. I know it won’t be easy, I know my life isn’t the kind you’ve ever wanted, but I believe what we have is special and rare. Please don’t throw it away.” He reached for her hands. “I came here tonight intending to tell you that. I had no idea about the newspapers.”

“I believe you,” she whispered, and realized she did.

“And?” Philippe asked, squeezing her hands.

Ella gazed at him, fear holding her back even as hope pushed her forward. “I…I don’t know. How can we have a relationship, Philippe? You’re a
prince
—”

“Of a small and very forward-thinking country.” He grinned. He smiled encouragingly. “They’ll accept you, Ella—”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ll make sure they do.”

Still she resisted, out of fear. “What about my job? My life? I won’t change for you, Philippe. I won’t ever change for a man again.”

“I don’t want you to change. I would never ask that of you.”

“And I wouldn’t ask that of you.” She loved him just the way he was. Still she was silent, caught between old fear and new hope.

“Ella?” Philippe prompted gently. Ella took a deep breath. She’d lived a quiet, safe life, protecting her heart, focused only on work for so long. She was ready to risk again, ready to try. To love.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I want to try, too, Philippe. I want to try with you.”

Smiling, Philippe drew her to him and kissed her gently, but as Ella put her arms around him, the kiss deepened into a promise of forever. This, Ella knew, was the best kiss of all.

THE END