“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