“Aww, honey.” Gretchen reached out and squeezed Taylor’s hand, then winced. “You’re all sticky.”

  “I think it’s the salt.” She licked the back of her hand and then wiped it with a napkin. “I just . . . I hate being so stupid. Being so used. And now I don’t even have a job.”

  Gretchen’s eyes widened. “Ohmigod, I can totally help you with that!”

  “No, seriously.” Taylor waved her off. “I know Hunter’s rich but I’m not sponging off of any more billionaires . . . or their fiancées. I’ll send out my résumé and find some nice quiet tech-support job again.” Blech.

  “It’s not sponging,” Gretchen declared. “I seriously need help. Legit help.”

  “You do.” Taylor giggled at her joke.

  Gretchen made a face. “Not like that, dummy. I’m working on my cookbook. My editor wants it in a few months and so I have to give all the recipes a test-drive. I’ve written the majority of them out but I need someone to try and re-create them based off of my instructions to make sure I have everything written out properly and in a sensible way. I need to know if I fucked them up, and I can’t tell myself. It’s not the most glamorous job. You’d have to come over to my place and cook each recipe. Then we have to taste it to see if it ends up like mine.”

  “That . . . doesn’t sound so terrible.”

  “It’s not! But it’s necessary for me, or else I’m going to spaz about whether or not they read correctly, since this is my first cookbook.” She straightened and clapped her hands. “Oh my god, and you can also do some taste tests for me! There’s a few where I have duplicate recipes because I’m not sure which version I like better. You can, like, stand on a street corner and give people samples and tell me which one they like better! This is awesome!”

  Taylor hesitated. “Gosh, I don’t know. I had Loch hire me, and you see how well that worked out.”

  Gretchen reached out and smacked her hand. “Stop that. How much did he pay you? I’ll double it. It’s a temporary job anyhow, but it’ll give you time to pay your bills while you get your résumé out there.”

  It would. She got weepy at the thought. “Thanks, Gretchen. You’re an amazing friend.”

  “I know. But Hunter’s money helps.” She reached across the table and hugged Taylor. “And you deserve something good to happen. Life’s been crapping on you lately.”

  Taylor sniffed hard and rested her head on Gretchen’s shoulder. She was lucky to have friends like Gretchen—irreverent, foul-mouthed, but always supportive.

  Maybe after she was done working with Gretchen, the ache of Loch’s betrayal wouldn’t burn like a brand in her chest.

  Maybe.

  ***

  One Month Later

  “You played like balls, mate. Forget all your moves while over in America?” Roderick jabbed Loch with a friendly elbow as they walked back to the locker room.

  “Fuck off,” Loch said with a forced grin. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard something like that since he’d come home. And it was true. He’d played terribly at today’s rugby match. One could argue that he was out of practice but he knew it was more than that.

  It was one person in particular that he couldn’t get out of his head.

  “Maybe if you showed up again, things’d be all right, hey? Or you just not into playing anymore?” Roderick shot him a curious look. “Haven’t seen you much at all since you got back.”

  That was certainly true. He’d returned home thinking he’d go back to his normal life of endless sports, drinking with mates, and enjoying himself. Instead, he’d been moping around his villa. Some days, it was rough just getting out of bed.

  And it was all because she hated him. Because he’d been a prick to her and now she thought he’d used her. And maybe he had. He was the bad guy, and he hated it. He hated that he’d hurt her, and he’d lost her.

  But all he said was, “Got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

  Roderick tugged at the strap on his head guard. “Because of your cousin? Royal baby and all?”

  “Mmm.” The royal baby-to-come had been making all the headlines. True to prediction, once the news of Alex and Luke’s upcoming child had made the rounds, all dissent had pretty much dissipated. Now, Alex and Luke were on the cover of every magazine and newspapers, and Royal Baby Watch had officially started, even though Alex was not even three months along. Loch had been home for a few weeks and it had been quiet. All of the attention had focused back on the crown princess and her family, and Loch had been assured that he did not need to marry at all. He could return to his life of leisure and irresponsibility.

  Joy.

  “So what did you do while you were in the States?” Roderick asked. “You play anything there?”

  I met a woman, fell in love, and then broke her heart. “Went to a polo club or two but it wasn’t for me.”

  Roderick exclaimed, surprised. “What did you do for the entire month?”

  Loch shrugged. He’d been bored for a while, but then . . . he’d found Taylor. And then nothing was boring anymore. Funny how that had worked. Funny how, after coming back, even his old passions were now boring. Everything was boring. Life wasn’t the same without Taylor, and it bloody hurt. “Jogged. Watched movies. Oh, and I played this video game called Excelsior—”

  Roderick’s derisive laughter stopped him short. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? Video games? You? You’re not the type.”

  “Oh? What’s the type?” Loch’s temper threatened, but he forced himself to relax. Roderick was just being . . . well, Roderick. A happy-go-lucky, spoiled son of a bitch, but typical Roderick.

  “You know,” Roderick said as they walked into the locker room and the humidity of the showers hit like a wall. “Bunch of nerds with glasses and spots.”

  Loch’s jaw clenched. That didn’t describe Taylor at all. Sure, she was a self-professed nerd, but he loved that she was so willing to be her own person, so utterly enthusiastic about the things she loved . . .

  Including him.

  And that made despair stab at him all over again. “Fuck off about all that, Rod.”

  “Can’t believe you,” Roderick teased, unaware of Loch’s growing bad mood. “Went to the States for a month and all you did was play video games. You hear that, Toby?” He snapped a towel on another man’s back. “Loch did fuck-all in his trip to the States.”

  “Yeah?” Toby turned, rubbing his wet hair with a towel as Loch headed toward his cubby and pulled his gear out. “You tap a lot of American ass? That’s what I’d have done the entire month.” He grinned. “Told ’em all I was a baron of Bellissime and watched their knickers fly right off.”

  “Wasn’t like that.” Great, now he was getting angry at Toby. He stripped off his shirt and shoved it into his bag.

  “I’ll bet it wasn’t,” Toby teased, and he and Roderick hooted with laughter while the rest of the team talked around them. Did Loch sleep with any actresses? Did all Americans have big blonde hair like on the television shows? Was New York as dirty and crowded as it looked on the telly?

  He deflected questions, keeping his answers vague, but his irritation grew with every passing moment. He needed to leave, or he was going to do something he’d regret, like punch a mate in the face. Loch stripped down and headed to the shower, washing the sweat of today’s game off of his body. Off to one side of the showers, a rookie walked in with a set of towels and the team quickly started to rib him about how he was new and how bollocks he was on the field.

  Loch washed his hair, silent.

  He was . . . well, he was angry and more than a bit appalled.

  Was this what his life had been prior to going to the States? Boyish teasing about women and sports and nothing of consequence? He wiped soap from his eyes, thinking. Roderick’s family was Swiss and in banking. Roderick had never worked a day in his life. Same with Toby,
whose British parents had moved to Bellissime to take over the National Hotel. He thought of others on the team—Corey, Mitch, Albert—none of them had worked a day in their lives despite being in their late twenties. They had all gone to school, attended university and then . . . what?

  Absolutely nothing. They played polo, and rugby, and drank beer down at the local pub. They dated women and spent money, and that was about it.

  And that was Loch’s life, too.

  He thought of Taylor.

  Sweet, beautiful Taylor with her sparkling, happy eyes. Who found such pleasure in small things, whereas his friends couldn’t even get impressed over a new yacht or three.

  Taylor, with her headset on, painstakingly going over instructions with clients on the phone, repeating details over and over again. The hours she’d spent on the computer, logging tickets and answering emails. She’d worked long and hard and for not much money.

  So what if she wanted to spend her idle time playing video games instead of sports? She could do whatever she bloody well liked. She’d earned those hours of leisure.

  And he didn’t like that they were mocking her for it.

  Taylor might have been a nerd, but that didn’t mean she was less worthy than his spoiled friends who rode ponies all day and chased a damned ball.

  The shower hadn’t helped his mood simmer down. If anything, he was more angry than ever before. Taylor was better than the lot of them. She was smarter, more independent, more self-reliant and had a better work ethic than every man he knew.

  He thought of Rex’s pointed questions about how much money Loch had as he dressed. About his life of privilege and how it had kept him from being in touch with what was truly going on in his life. He put on his belt, tucked his wallet into his pocket, and grabbed his bag of gear. The men were still laughing, talking nearby. Roderick had a towel around his waist but hadn’t yet dressed.

  Loch studied him, and then nodded in his direction. “Hey, Rod. How much are you worth?”

  Roderick gave him a confused look. “What?”

  “In your bank account,” Loch clarified. “Just curious. How much is in there?”

  Roderick laughed, throwing his head back. “How the fuck should I know? Do I look like a bloody accountant?”

  “Just curious. Cheers.” He waved to the men in the locker room and headed out.

  “You not coming to the pub, mate?” Toby called after him.

  “Got stuff I need to take care of,” he said, not turning around. “I’ll catch you boys next time.” He was sure they would be confused by his actions—and some might be offended. Loch was always the first one to go out with the guys, and he normally bought the first round. Always said they deserved it after a hard day of work.

  God, he was a spoiled git sometimes.

  Lost in thought, Loch left the locker room and headed out through the front of the gym he and his friends frequented. There was a girl up front whose name he didn’t recall, but he knew she was there regularly, folding towels and answering the phones. Curious, he headed toward her. “Excuse me.”

  She looked up from the stack of towels. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

  “Just curious about something.” He rubbed his jaw. “This might come off wrong, but I was wondering . . . do you know how much is in your bank account?”

  The woman frowned at him, her brows going up. The look on her face was wary. “Why?”

  He raised a hand. “I know it’s prying. But I was just curious. You do know what is in there?”

  “Down to the penny.” Her eyes narrowed and she took a nervous glance around. “Why do you ask?”

  Hell, now he was making her nervous. Her answer had satisfied him, though. Of course she knew—down to the penny, as she’d said—how much was in her account. It was because it mattered to her. Because she’d worked hard to scrape together whatever funds she had.

  She was like Taylor—she didn’t have a trust fund or rich parents to lean on. She didn’t live a life of sports and drinking with friends. She worked, no doubt long hours.

  And him? He’d been a spoiled brat who’d pushed people around to get his way all because he didn’t want to be considered in line for king. Because it was too much responsibility and responsibility was something that Loch had hated with a passion.

  It was sobering to realize that at almost thirty, he had yet to grow up.

  It was time to change that.

  It made him ache to think that even if he fixed the things he didn’t like about himself, he’d still lost her. That he couldn’t go back in time and fix all the things that had brought him to this place, just so he could keep her for a few more days.

  Funny how life had turned into Before Taylor and After Taylor. Before Taylor, he was a man-child just like his friends—full of money and not a care in the world. After Taylor?

  He was broken and sad, but he was going to become a better man, damn it. If he couldn’t have Taylor back, at least he could become the man she’d want him to be.

  ***

  Loch had lunch with Alex and her husband, Luke, the next day. His cousin was radiant, glowing with health and happiness, and everyone at the tiny restaurant came over to give the princess their congratulations. She accepted all of their felicitations with a beaming, patient smile. Her husband was pleased, too. Alex and Luke held hands and touched each other in small ways throughout the meal, and it was evident they were in love.

  It made Loch jealous as hell.

  “How have you been, cousin?” Alex asked. “We haven’t seen you much lately.”

  He’d gotten good at deflecting. “Just busy. So how are things in the palace?” Loch asked, changing the subject. “Everything settled?”

  “As settled as it can be.” Alexandra gave her husband a loving glance. “Luke’s going back to Los Angeles for two months to film a movie, and so some people aren’t pleased about that, but it’s been contracted for months now.”

  “It’s a kid’s movie, for Pete’s sake,” Luke said, and rolled his eyes. “I have to wear a damn tutu and leotard and chase the bad guys through a ballet school. I’m not sure how anyone can object to that, but for some reason, they’re acting like I’m abandoning my wife.” He reached over and touched her hand. “Baby, do you need me to stay here and wipe your brow through all the morning sickness you haven’t had?”

  Alex chuckled and gave him a sly look. “I think I shall manage just fine without you for all of two months.” She looked back at Loch and gave a small little shrug of her shoulders. “He’ll be here for the rest of the pregnancy. We’ll just make sure to be extremely visible for the rest of it.”

  Loch nodded absently. He stared down at his plate, untouched. Their playful banter and their easiness together? It made him think of Taylor, and how good and right it had felt to be with her. How they could have fun together. How she’d made him feel important, and he hadn’t realized how much he needed that.

  Damn it, he missed her. No, not just missed her. He was shit without her.

  “I’m going back to the States for a while,” Loch announced a moment later. “I’ll still keep a house here, but I’d like to spend several months out of the year there.”

  Alex looked surprised. “You enjoyed it that much? I heard you didn’t want to stay there.”

  Yeah, he didn’t at first . . . but things changed. He’d changed. And Taylor wasn’t here. He needed to be where she was, if nothing else. But they wouldn’t understand that, so he said, “It grew on me. Being in New York on my own was very different than my life here. It made me realize that change isn’t always a bad thing, and learning to be more independent is beneficial. I’m probably going to purchase a home there and split my time between Bellissime and the States for a while.”

  “I see.” Alex didn’t look convinced.

  Luke just grinned. “Met someone, did you?”

>   A wounded laugh bubbled out of Loch. Met someone and lost her. “Am I that obvious?”

  “Depends on who you’re talking to.” Luke gave his wife an affectionate glance. “I know I had a turnabout on how I felt about Bellissime once I’d met her.”

  Alex blushed and fidgeted with her napkin. “Well, if you must go, cousin, I hope she’s worth it.”

  Loch thought of Taylor and the ache in his breast grew. “I don’t know if she’s interested anymore, but she is most definitely worth it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  A week later, Loch was back in New York and ensconced in the same hotel suite he’d occupied for a month. The room was exactly the same as he’d left it . . . but different somehow. Every surface had been dusted, straightened, cleaned, the closets were full of fresh hangers and the bathroom full of new, wrapped soaps. The bed had been made, the sheets crisp, and it was like no one had used the room, ever. There was no sign that he and Taylor had been here for weeks, laughing and making love and enjoying each other’s company.

  He hated it.

  It made him sad. It was just a hotel room, but . . . it felt odd to see all traces of their existence together swept away. He even checked the mini-fridge, because Taylor’d had a habit of sticking half-drank bottles of water back in there in case he wouldn’t be charged for them, but it was full of fresh, new bottles of water.

  There was no sign of Taylor anywhere. It was just like the rest of his life—as empty of her shining presence—and it made him realize just how much he’d fucked up.

  How much he’d lost.

  He ignored the idea of unpacking his luggage and sat down on the couch with his laptop and phone. The need to see Taylor again was like a craving inside of him. Of course, he was a helpless, spoiled idiot and didn’t remember her address from the times he’d gone to her apartment, so he couldn’t show up there and push his way in, demanding that she speak to him.

  Which was probably for the best. He had a suspicion that “demanding” anything wouldn’t go over well with Taylor, much as he wanted to.