Once Upon A Tiara

“No stories for you, child,” Amelia said, smoothly avoiding the subject again. “You’ve had a long day, Lili. Rather more adventurous than intended.”

“I shouldn’t be blamed for that. The bee sting was an accident, and the pickpocketing was entirely beyond my control.” She wasn’t going to explain the bit with the trash can unless Amelia forced the issue.

“You did very well, all things considered.”

Lili blinked. Maybe for once her former nanny didn’t know. “I did? You really think so?” Her will to please had always been at odds with her will to par-taaay, as the Americans said.

“Your father was reasonably satisfied.” Amelia sat on the bed and patted the lump that was Lili’s knee.

She hunched her shoulders, keeping a tight hold on the covers. “I don’t see why we have to report in to him twice a day and every night. He’s so old-fashioned about everything else, why did he have to get a cell phone? I swear it was only to keep track of me and my sisters!”

“Likely so.” Amelia’s bristly head inclined, her irises an intense blue in contrast with the oatmeal mask. “Indulge him, Lili. He’s concerned only with your well being.”

Lili wasn’t having it. “That excuse might have worked for the first years after mother’s death, when we were still children. But no longer.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here, Princess? Your father has put his trust in you to represent the family. It was a big step for him, letting his baby bird fly the nest.” Amelia gave her another pat. “Don’t betray his trust in you, my dear.”

“Never.” Was enjoying herself a betrayal?

“That depends,” said Amelia, rising. She straightened her robe and repositioned a bobby pin, stabbing it into her scalp without a flinch. “Mr. Tremayne seemed harmless enough, but you shouldn’t have flirted so. The poor fellow was too flustered to concentrate on his job.”

Lili batted her lashes, smiling at the memory of the baffled but intrigued look she’d brought to Simon’s funny, crooked face.

“Although I’d rather you’d stayed with Mr. Tremayne than with that rather tall young chap from the receiving line. I didn’t like the looks of him, not a whit.”

Lili’s mouth turned down. Amelia had made that clear when Trey Stone had phoned an hour ago. Without a word, her stern expression had discouraged Lili from agreeing to a date—even though she couldn’t have overheard the suggestive banter he’d been whispering in Lili’s ear. “Trey Stone? What was wrong with him?” Was she being warned off by her nanny’s sixth sense?

Mrs. Grundy paused at the connecting doors of their hotel suite. “He reminds me of your old boyfriend, Lars. Too smooth by half.” She shook her head. A flake of oatmeal fell off her chin onto her lapel. “I am so very pleased you’ve outgrown that type of fellow.”

Lili swallowed. I have?

Darn that Grundy! The woman was a wet blanket. No wonder her father had insisted she accompany Lili to America.

Amelia went on. “Your head may be in the clouds, but your heart’s in the right place, Princess. Listen to it and you’ll do your father proud.”

Lili avoided the woman’s sharp eyes as they said good-night. As soon as the door closed, she let her shoulders sag. The bedclothes dropped to her waist. She looked down at her casual knit top and the jeans she’d tucked into her luggage after Amelia had finished packing the fussy matching outfits that gave Lili nightmares of wardrobes to come.

Here she was, twenty-two and still sneaking out past bedtime for a forbidden assignation. But what choice did she have?

Lili crawled out of bed. Annie and Natalia weren’t so beholden to pleasing their elders—they’d go their own way, despite what Papa and Amelia had to say about it. And look at Jana Vargas—not even the chief of police intimidated her.

Lili put on a pair of sneakers, grabbed a jacket and applied one of her Biore facial strips to the door mechanism so it wouldn’t lock behind her. Mrs. Grundy had taken charge of their keys, not even allowing Lili that much control over what was, after all, her own life.

“Time to start living it,” she said to herself as she headed for the elevator. Trey Stone, Mr. America in the flesh, had promised to wait for her in the lounge if there weren’t any annoying reporters lurking about. Her heart might have wished for her late date to be the more unconventional Simon Tremayne, but he wasn’t suited to her present needs. When it came to deflowering a princess, she had the feeling that Trey would be much more amenable to taking on the task, with no second thoughts for propriety.

“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, lovely Lili?” Trey crooned as he snaked his arm around her shoulders and dragged her across the front seat of his convertible toward himself.

Technically, she had to admit that it was. Going for a moonlit convertible ride was supposed to be so Cary Grant and Grace Kelly. Instead it felt more like—like—

Lili cast about for the name of the television serial that had played endlessly on Grunberg’s one local TV channel. Oh, yes—Happy Days! Or better yet, Laverne and Shirley.

Like that lovably wacky duo, Lili had gotten herself into another predicament. It was turning out that, despite his promising first impression, a little Trey Stone went a long way. So did his arm, unfortunately.

She lifted his large hand from its familiar position, fingers dangling within brushing distance of her breast. Trey gave her shoulder a squeeze, apparently quite comfortable to be driving with only one free hand. Lili stifled her sigh.

She looked up at the dark sky, studded with stars to rival the tiny diamonds in her ears. “This is very nice.” Then why aren’t I enjoying myself?

After one quick drink and much smooth talk in the nearly empty lounge, Trey had hinted that they should move their party to a private location. Lili, nervous about being spotted, had rashly agreed. Although Trey was also staying at the hotel, he wasn’t quite so bold to invite her up to his room. Not that she’d have gone. She wasn’t so stuck on the idea of a madcap fling that she’d throw herself at the first Casanova who came along. It was true that she’d had high hopes for Trey, particularly when he suggested they go cruising in his convertible, but her enthusiasm was fading…for some reason.

They’d driven around for a while, even stopped at the drive-in restaurant that Simon had mentioned. Now they were traveling a country lane outside of Blue Cloud. Lili wasn’t sure where, exactly. A needle of doubt poked through her blanket of assurance. The problem with always being taken care of was that she hadn’t developed good self-defense mechanisms. Trey had better be trustworthy!

He glanced at her, his face classically handsome in the moonlight. “She walks in beauty like the night of starry skies and cloudless climes…”

“How sweet.” How uninspired. She smiled up at Trey, locked under his weighty arm. He said all the right things, he really did. He was glib, charming and ever so slightly devilish. Aside from groping her shoulder, he hadn’t made a wrong move all night.

Maybe that was it. She was taken with Simon’s peculiarities. And the awful, hokey pickup lines he blurted out when he was trying to be charming.

The sporty convertible took the curves like a race car. Fresh, pure country air whistled past the windshield. Lili was a little chilly, but she couldn’t snuggle up to Trey without sending him the wrong signal. She wrapped her arms around herself. “This truly is lovely,” she said to fill the silence. “Truly.”

Trey’s white teeth gleamed at her. “We can pull over, if you like.”

Lili knew what that meant; the kids on Happy Days went parking on Blueberry Hill. It wasn’t as popular a practice in Grunberg, where cars weren’t commonly owned by teenagers, and princesses on dates were trailed by hot-and cold-running bodyguards.

Trey didn’t wait for her approval. When they came to a clearing in the trees that bordered the road, he slowed and drove a short way into the grassy area. A large graceful willow tree hung over the car, its drooping branches rustling slightly in the wind. “This is pleasant,” Lili said, keeping her voice unimpressed, even though he probably wouldn’t take the hint. She probably shouldn’t come right out and say, “Shove it, buster.” Princesses were always polite.

“Nice, sweet, lovely, pleasant,” Trey said teasingly, shifting his large body around so he was facing her. One arm was draped on the steering wheel. The other had released her shoulders, although now his hand rested heavily on the back of her neck. Lili wanted to shrug it away. But she ought to give him a chance. He certainly looked like the kind of man she’d imagined she’d meet in America—tall, dark and handsome.

“I’m a princess,” Lili explained with a touch of irony. “I live in a sugar-spun fairy tale where life is beautiful all the time.”

“And you come complete with tiara.”

She laughed politely. “Sorry to disappoint! I don’t wear the tiara as common practice.”

Trey’s fingertips crawled along her nape. “You must have tried it on at least.”

She blinked. “The Brunner bridal tiara?”

He leaned closer. “Yesss.”

“Um.” Why did men think that hissing in her ear like a snake was seductive? “Actually, no. Even though my sisters and I begged my mother to let us try it on, she never would. There’s a legend…” Lili lost track of her words because Trey had dropped his arm around her shoulders again and was drawing her toward his mouth. “Only Brunner brides are supposed to…” Goodness, he had a lot of teeth.

His breath was hot. Minty.

Yeesh, she thought as Trey landed a kiss that consumed the lower half of her face. The kiss was much too wet and loose. She struggled a little, but he held her tightly, applying his mouth to hers like a suction hose. Slurp.

She put her hands on his chest and pushed. Still polite, but plenty firm. His mouth left hers with a wet pop. She gagged a little and swiped the back of a hand across her lips. Spittle wasn’t polite. “Urg. Slow down, big guy.”

For an instant, Trey didn’t look so pleasant. Then he smiled again and winked at her, a thick lock of dark hair fallen rakishly across his forehead. “You said you wanted a real taste of America.”

Yes, indeed she had. “But not all at once, thank you.”

He fingered her hair. “You’re a cute kid.”

She squinted. “Meaning?”

“You’re nothing like your sister, are you?”

“Which one?”

“Natalia.”

“How do you know Natalia?”

Trey stroked her cheek. “Oh, I don’t. I read about her in the tabloids. She’s the wild one, right?”

“I suppose there are some who call her that. To me, she’s just my sister. I’m the youngest, so she’s closer to Annie than I am.” Lili tilted her head to get away from Trey’s persistent fingers. “I’m surprised you’ve read about us. We’re not all that well known in America. Aside from here in Blue Cloud, of course, because my grandmother was born here—”

She stopped, struck by suspicion. Over drinks, Trey had claimed that he was in town to visit friends. She’d asked about his job, but she realized now that he’d evaded the question, leading her to believe, with a few casually dropped comments, that he was independently wealthy. Meanwhile, he’d probed for information about her, the Brunner family, their castle in Grunberg. He’d even hinted around for VIP passes to the grand opening of the jewel exhibit and an invitation to the formal ball. It was pretty clear that he was more interested in the princess than the woman.

In her eagerness for experience, she’d been too trusting. Suppose he was playing her?

Suppose?

“What did you say you do again?” she asked.

Trey grinned. “I didn’t.”

“You’re not a reporter, are you?”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Hell, no!”

“Then why the interest in me and my family?”

“No sinister motives.” He leered, his eyes glinting at her from the pattern of light and shadow cast by the moonlight filtering through the branches of the willow tree. “If you must know, I collect pretty girls.”

She pushed his hand away. “Some might consider that sinister.”

He buffed his nails on his expensive suit. “What can I say? I’m a ladies’ man.” He was practically boasting. “I assumed you’d had plenty of experience with suave European suitors. And you sure seemed eager enough to partake of the American variety.”

“I’m sorry. You’re mistaken.”

“I can promise you a good time. No strings attached.”

Lili wormed her bottom toward the passenger door. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon.” Trey reached for her. “Don’t be a prude. I know what goes on among you jet-setters. Topless beaches, drunken orgies, wife-swapping. You like to party, don’t you, baby princess?”

She slapped his hand away. He reached again, cajoling her with smarmy compliments. “C’mon, Princess. My lovely Lili-Pond.” He gripped her waist; she twisted away. “Give me that sweet smile.” His fingers plucked at the buttons of her blouse. “Show me your pretty little—”

Lili brought her leg up and jabbed him in the kneecap with the heel of one sneaker. Too bad. She usually hit her targets, but the man’s oversized stilts had gotten in the way.

Trey clutched at his knee. “Ahhh!”

She grabbed the bucket-size soft drink from its holder and upended it over his head. Orange soda and a shovelful of ice chips cascaded over his head and shoulders.

Trey shook himself like a dog, spraying the front seat with sticky soda. Lili jumped out of the car.

He clambered after her, swearing so ripely that more spittle flew. There’s a lesson for you, Lili told herself. Never trust a man with excess saliva.

The curses trailed off to whimpers. “Damn, that was vicious. You didn’t have to kick so hard. I have a trick knee. And look at my hair. My suit! It’s soaked.”

“Count yourself lucky. I was aiming higher.” She strode toward the road, breathing hard. For all her idiocy, she was high on triumph. She might have gotten into a predicament, but she’d also gotten herself out of it. And all on her own!

Trey got back in the car and started the engine. He backed up toward the road. Lili picked up her pace, trotting along the edge of the pavement. Good thing she’d worn sneakers.

“Don’t run away, Lili,” Trey called from the car. “I’ll give you a ride back to town.”

“No, thanks!”

“It’s all right. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“No!”

“You’re going the wrong way.”

Lili stopped. Oh. She’d been too steamed to notice.

“C’mon, Princess,” Trey coaxed. She had to give him a sliver of credit. He hadn’t abandoned her. She couldn’t even blame him for getting overly amorous; she had flirted. “I promise not to touch you,” he added.

She was tempted to accept the ride, but decided to hold her ground. Once a fool, and all that. “I’d rather not. There’s a farmhouse nearby. I remember passing it. I’ll go there and call for a cab.” Fiddlesticks. If she hadn’t been forced to sneak out, she could have borrowed Mrs. Grundy’s handy cell phone. That was what came of relying on others to handle the necessary details.

Trey said, grudgingly, “I have a phone. I can call for you.”

“I’d rather not be in your debt,” she persisted, although she was beginning to realize that she wasn’t entirely out of her predicament. The owner of the farmhouse might not be thrilled to be awakened by a stranger knocking at the door at midnight, even if the stranger was a princess. And the road was extremely dark and deserted. Whether that was good or bad, she wasn’t sure.

“Suit yourself.” Trey gunned the engine, then peered over his shoulder one more time. His white teeth flashed. “I suppose those VIP passes are out of the question?”

She almost laughed. Kissing Trey was worse than kissing a slimy toad—at least the toad didn’t kiss back. But there was something roguishly charming about the guy, for all his crudeness. Maybe…

She wondered if it was possible to accept his cell phone but not his overtures. Trey said, “Well? I’m getting cold,” then shrugged and peeled out with a squeal of the tires, tossing Lili a devil-may-care wave.

“Um, Trey?” she said.

It was a minute before the sound of the convertible died in the distance. Lili gathered her courage. This wasn’t a problem. No, it actually was, but she could handle it. They must have taxicabs in Blue Cloud, so she had every hope of getting back to the hotel with no one the wiser…except herself.

She’d walked several paces before certain unusual sounds penetrated her consciousness. She stopped, flummoxed. Music—very faint, but carried on the night breezes. In the opposite direction from the farmhouse. Maybe there was another house just down the road, its inhabitants obviously still awake.

Hmm. Lili turned back, her interest piqued. Was that a violin? Accompanied by a guitar? Not a recording. She drew closer to the source, driven to hurry. There were voices, and laughter. It was beginning to sound like a free-form party; exactly the kind of excitement and adventure that she’d wished for.

She smelled wood smoke. Saw the flicker of a bonfire. Tents in a field. Dancers. A Gypsy encampment…Jana’s people! Of course. Not unlike the bands of Romany who occasionally traveled through Grunberg and neighboring countries. She hadn’t realized until Jana Vargas’s appearance at the reception that there were Romany clans roaming America also.

Lili’s blood stirred. An evening in a Gypsy camp! What a treat to stumble upon. Jana had seemed sincere about welcoming Lili, even if there was some question about the Vargas diamond lurking between their families.

“AMELIA GRUNDY, HERE.”

“Whazzat?”

“Grundy. I’m with the princess.”

“Er…right. Lili.”

“Her Serene Highness, Princess Liliane of Grunberg.”

“That’s what I said.” Simon scrubbed a hand through his matted hair. He’d fallen asleep with an open book resting on his chest. Bad form for a swinging single bachelor. “Who’s this, again?” he said into the telephone, heaving up to switch on the bedside lamp. He righted his twisted glasses. “Grundy, you say?”

Why would the British nanny be calling him?

“The princess is missing.”

“Missing?” he echoed, suddenly feeling more alert.

“Since ten o’clock. It’s now half past twelve.”

“But you said you’re with her.”

“Not literally, Mr. Tremayne. She’s vanished.”

“For two and a half hours. That hardly constitutes an emergency, does it? The princess struck me as a lively sort of girl. She’s probably out having a good time.”

“Exactly.”

“Ah.”

“She shouldn’t be on her own,” Grundy said.

“Are you certain she is?”

“Evidence suggests she is not.”

The book on Simon’s chest became as heavy as a headstone. He knocked it aside. “What am I supposed to do about that?” He sounded crabby, but he couldn’t help it. Initially he’d thought that he and the princess had shared a moment. An understanding. Apparently not. Lili was cavorting, and it wasn’t with him. Stood to reason. The lovely princess was such a distraction that he kept forgetting about his rotten luck with women. Every one of his short list of relationships had ended with him being the chump.

“She’s of age,” he said.

“Only twenty-two. One mustn’t forget that she comes from a traditional society. She’s been protected all her life. This is her first time on her own—”

“Poor girl. No wonder she’s kicked away the traces.”

Grundy carried on as if he hadn’t interrupted. “She’s inexperienced, our Lili. Naive, one might say.” She fell quiet, but her silence was obviously expectant.

Inexperienced? Naive? That wasn’t his impression of the princess, Simon thought, recalling how she’d teased him with her “innocent” little stripper act. Was he missing a clue?

“I am worried,” Grundy said. “Princess Lili plays the flirt, but I do think she’d be susceptible to overtures from the wrong kind of gentleman.” She paused significantly. “One who is perhaps planning to ‘bag a trophy,’ I believe you’d say in the American vernacular.”

“Send the bodyguard after her.”

“I have, sir. However, I believe reinforcements are called for. Mr. Wilhelm has discovered from the concierge that the princess left the hotel with a stranger.”

“Was it the Tower?”

“Pardon?”

“The man she met at the reception. Tall, well-dressed. Cleft chin. Freakishly hirsute.” Simon was feeling around on the floor for his trousers. He found a sweatshirt and put it on instead, right over his pajama top, holding the phone with his chin. “His name’s Stone.”

“Yes, I do believe that’s the one. I have a terrible feeling he’s not on the up-and-up.”

“Where’s Wilhelm now?”

“Searching for the convertible they drove away in.”

Simon thrust his arm, and the phone, through a sleeve, then brought it back to his mouth. “I’m going to hang up now and call Henry—Chief Russell.”

“My goodness, no. We can’t have the police involved. This must be kept discreet, lest the muckrakers get wind of it.”

“Henry will keep it off the record, if possible. The man’s a bloodhound. He’ll probably sniff the air once and know exactly where Lili—Her Highness—is. We’ll have her back to you in no time, none the worse for—” He stopped.

Inexperienced? Naive? Susceptible?

Was Grundy trying to tell him the princess was a virgin?

“Indeed,” said the Brit.

“Huh?” said Simon, feeling damn slow on the uptake. The hair on the back of his neck was tingling. Oddly, he suspected that Grundy had read his mind and responded in agreement.

“Indeed, the princess will return none the worse for the adventure. She always has before.”

Now that she’d hooked him, Grundy was sounding less urgent. Even complacent. “The princess has done this in the past?” Simon asked.

“On occasion.”

Then why call out the big guns? Simon shoved his left foot into the running shoe he’d found under the bed. He was searching through the clots of dust for the other when it struck him that he wasn’t the big gun. He was the mild-mannered museum dweeb, not the hero. He didn’t rescue damsels in undress.

So why in tarnation had the efficient and spookily perceptive Amelia Grundy chosen to call him?

AMELIA HUNG UP the phone, a small smile puckering her lips. Magic had been in the air the instant Lili met Mr. Tremayne—she herself had felt the thunderbolt that crackled between the young couple. But one had to be circumspect about these things, especially when it came to guiding impulsive young princesses. Mistakes might be made.

Not even “fairy godmothers” were foolproof. Look at the Princesses Natalia and Andrea—now there was a pair of stubborn young ladies!

“Patience,” Amelia whispered to herself. “Their time shall soon come.” Just as Princess Lili’s had.

It wasn’t for Amelia to force the issue. Better to be discreet, waiting patiently for Lili to blunder about blindly until the perfect moment struck. When it did, Amelia would ensure that the princess’s eyes were opened to her intended destiny.

Which wasn’t to say that in the meantime Amelia couldn’t give a nudge or two to point the reluctant Prince Charming in the right direction….

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