The Secret Prince by Kathryn Jensen

Author:Kathryn Jensen
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2002-10-26T04:00:00+00:00

The next morning Dan awoke to an angry pounding on his door. He squinted at the travel alarm beside his bed and groaned when he saw that it wasn’t yet 8:00 a.m. Since there had been no urgency in rising while staying at the castle, he’d grown accustomed to sleeping in. Later that day, with or without Elly, he’d promised himself another excursion to the lake. His mood felt so much improved over the days before.

“Come in,” he growled, tugging on the bedclothes to cover his naked hips.

“Get up and get dressed!” a voice ordered smartly.

He scowled as Elly bounded across the chamber, tossing a newspaper onto a chair. She flung open the doors to the armoire on the far side of the room. “And put something decent on. Jacob’s in a snit and we’re in deep trouble.”

“He is? We are?” He sat up in bed trying to make sense of her words. “What’s happened now?”

“I found out what that growling noise at the lake was yesterday.”

Now he was intrigued. “Yes?”

“You know the sound a thirty-five-millimeter camera makes when it auto-winds?”

The flesh at the back of his neck prickled. “Someone was taking pictures of us at the lake.”

“Right.” She tossed a pair of khaki pants and a blue oxford shirt onto the bed. “Where is your underwear?”

“I’ll take care of my own underwear, thank you.” He flung off the covers and she hastily averted her eyes. He would have found the gesture amusing if he wasn’t so damn furious. Grabbing the sheet off the bed, he wrapped it around his waist. “How do you know that’s what it was?”

“Because of this.” She picked up the newspaper she’d brought into the room and pitched it at him. It was a British tabloid. He unfolded it. A full third of the front page displayed a grainy photo of Elly and himself standing in the water. It had been taken at the exact moment he’d given her that companionable peck on the lips. The caption read: The Prince and his Playmate (details, page 3).

“Good grief, how did a photographer get close enough to—”

“Telephoto lens, no doubt,” Elly muttered. “He must have either followed us from the castle without our seeing him or he just happened on us then took up a position on the far shore of the lake. You can tell by the angle.”

“I see.” He handed her the paper with a sinking feeling in his gut. From a drawer he pulled out a clean T-shirt and briefs, then took his clothes into the bathroom. “So I take it His Highness has seen that paper.”

“Yup, and he’s furious.”

Dan finished buttoning his shirt, tucked in the tails and ran his belt through the loops as he strode back into the bedchamber. “What are we supposed to do about it?”

“I’m not sure, but I expect the first move in such situations is called Facing the Music.”

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