Mistress to the Prince (4 page)

Tara
knew that leaving during the intermission would be unbelievably rude and that realization was the only thing that stopped her from turning to the right which led to the exit and freedom. 

Tara
sighed and walked back into the
opera
house, taking her seat at the last possible moment before the lights were dimmed and the opera started again.  It was unfortunate that she’d been up since
five o’clock
that morning and she’d only had sugar for dinner.  Because the long hours and stress o
f
the day
, the slow movements of the actors
, plus the sugar low
from her “dinner”
crashed in on her at the same time.  Within fifteen minutes
after the intermission
, her eyes drifted closed and she propped her head on her hand, hoping her date wouldn’
t be offended at her rudeness but not really caring since consciousness had completely receded. 

Fortunately, he didn’t even notice. The opera ended on a loud bang and
Tara
sat straight up in her seat, instantly awake and looking around, trying to figure out what had just happened. 
The lights were still dark but everyone was cheering loudly, obviously impressed with the actors and their efforts. 
Tara
wondered if she’d missed something during the second half but wasn’t about to ask her date. 

She turned to face him at that point and found that
Jeffrey was clapping loudly, thrilled with the performance. 
“Wasn’t that amazing?” he asked, looking at her as
if he’d just had an epiphany and she couldn’t help but have experienced it as well. 

Tara
couldn’t understand how the man had been so unconcerned for her that he didn’t even know she’d been asleep for the past hour.  “It was definitely an experience,” she said diplomatically. 
Jeffrey
didn’t notice her lack of enthusiasm, still so thrilled by the performance that his excitement was all but bubbling over. 
All she wanted to do was get home and crawl into her bed. 

“How about a drink?” Jeffrey asked
as they made their way out of the theatre
.  “I feel to
o
energized to just stop now.  I’m guessing you probably feel the same way?  How could anyone not feel that way after this kind of a performance
?
  Can you imagine the kind of patience those actors have to have in order to…” Jeffrey kept talking the whole way back to his car.  He barely even waited for
Tara
to nod or smile appropriately before he moved on to talk about the next amazing aspect of the opera.  By the time they reached
his
car,
Tara
had stopped responding, understanding that there was no need
since the man was in his own world that consisted only of himself and his awe of the Chinese opera
. 

Over the top of the car, Jeffrey smiled across to her, the excitement obvious in his expression. 
“Let’s head over to a quiet bar I know of.  We can relax and talk, get to know one another,” he said
then ducked his head into the car
as if he was taking her agreement for granted
.  As soon as they were seated inside the car, he
put his hand on her thigh
and smiled broadly
.
  “Are you game?”

Tara
stared down at his hand in shock.  Picking up his hand, she placed it on the seat next to his own leg
, horrified that the man would take such liberties after such a short acquaintance
.  “I appreciate the offer but I’m really tired
and I have an early morning
.”

Jeffrey didn’t take rejection well. 
His face crinkled up as if he were sneering at her and his soft eyes turned beady and a little mean. 
“Oh, come on
,” he whined
. 
“
The night is still young.  It’s been too wonderful already.  I can’t believe how fascinating that was,” and he started the engine while
rhapsodizing
on the amazing performance she had just slept through. 

He wasn’t heading back to the palace where her car was still parked so
Tara
assumed he was ignoring her rejection of the bar idea.  “Jeffrey, could you drop me of
f at my house?  I’m really beat,
”
she asked since they were now closer to her home than her car.
Tara
decided
it would be easier
take a cab to work the following morning instead of trying to convince the man to take her back to the palace.  She just wanted the night to end. 

“
J
ust a quick drink?” he asked,
the whining more pronounced
now that he heard the serious tone of her voice.

A headache that had been niggling for the past two hours suddenly struck full blown. 
“No, thank you,” she said firmly, rubbing her forehead in frustration and pain.
 
“
If you turn left up here, I’m just around the corner.” 

He didn’t respond for a moment and
Tara
was worried that he would ignore her request to take her home.  But in the end, he acquiesced. 
“Fine,” he snapped and turned left. 

After five more minutes, h
e pulled up to her house and shut off the engine.  He was about to get out when she stopped him.  “It’s okay.  You don’t need to walk me to my door,” she said
hurriedly
and pulled the door open
so she could quickly
jump out.  She bent
back down to say goodbye to him in an effort to reinforce her stance that she didn’t need to be walked,
and
offered a brief smile.
“Thank you for taking me to the opera, Jeffrey,” she said before slamming the door closed
on whatever he was about to say
.

She wasn’t to escape then though.  “What about a kiss?” he called out over the roof of
the vehicle
as he stood on the opposite side of his car.

Besides waking up the neighbors with his
loud voice,
Tara
couldn’t believe the man’s gall.  “I’m sorry.  I’m old fashioned.  I never kiss on the first date,” she
called back, not bothering to even look at him as she rejected his request
.
  She figured it was enough that she didn’t shiver in revulsion at the idea of kissing the man.

She quickly unlocked the door to her small cottage style house and let herself inside.  Once she was safely in the house, she locked the door and leaned against the wood, relieved to be alone and away from that self-centered, obnoxious man. 

Tara
peeked out the family room window and watched to make sure he was driving away.  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his tail lights disappear down the street. 

Chapter 3

“What a night,” she said and moved off to her bedroom.  It wasn’t far.  Her entire house consisted of just three
main
rooms; the family room, kitchen and bedroom plus a small bathroom.  But it was hers and she loved it.  It was summer now and she had a beautiful backyard filled with flowers and a brick pathway
as well as a
patio
surrounded by plants
that she spent many hours on the weekend
s
weeding and perfecting.  She also spent a great deal of time fantasizing out there, wondering what it would be like to melt in the
arms of Max
, to be kissed by a man as amazingly dynamic, strong and masculine as he
was.  She knew that
the fantasy could never live up to the reality.  She’d built so many scenarios around the man it was ridiculous. 

She was twenty
six
years old and had been working for the man for two years.  She knew she had it bad for him and that’s one reason why she had agreed to this blind date. 
Tara
used to date a lot before starting her job with the palace.  But after meeting Max, no other man seemed to measure up.  He was too…everything.  Too masculine,
too
charming,
too
sexy…just too everything she wanted in a man.  But couldn’t have. 

Tara
understood the pecking order in the world.  Max was a prince.  He was royalty. 
More importantly, he was the Crown Prince of Cordova and would eventually inherit the throne and rule the kingdom. 
Tara
was a commoner.  Royalty married royalty or at least someone from the aristocracy. 
Max would need to marry someone born to help him rule the country and knew all the ins and outs of politics and
organizing large functions to make the country work more efficiently
. 

She was not aristocratic by any stretch of the imagination. 
Commoners married commoners.  There were no two ways around that fact of life no matter how much she wished it were different. 

Besides, Max dated women who spent their days pampering themselves, getting manicures and massages, plastic surgery and fittings for their designer wardrobe. 
Tara
spent her days buried under piles of reports and spreadsheets.  Because of her salary, she could afford very nice clothes, but not designer or custom made clothes that were designed specifically for her and made to flatter and enhance her beauty.  They were all nice
, neat
, professional clothes. 
She started out her day with a neatly made up face but by the end of the morning, her lipstick was gone and she knew she usually looked worn out when she fell into her car in the evenings.  She couldn’t
really compete with women whose
sole purpose was to look pretty and
stylish
. 

Tara
wondered what Queen Natasha or King Stephan would think if they found out about her feelings for their son.  She’d probably be fired,
Tara
thought, pulling on a tee-shirt and slipping between the sheets.  There was no use wondering about that, she told herself.  It was a secret she was determined to hide from everyone. 
Tara
preferred being around Max, even if it meant watc
hing him date other wome
n, and possibly marry someone else. 
Any connection to the man made her feel alive and alert so she was willing to take what she could get, even if it meant being only an employee. 

It was past
midnight
and
Tara
was exhausted.  She set her alarm for six the following morning, not sure if she’d be able to wake up in time for her usual
five o’clock
run through the neighborhoods.  She usually came home from work around eight or
nine o’clock
at night
and was in bed by ten or earlier
so waking up at
five o’clock
wasn’t too painful
. 
Since it was so late
she felt, and probably
,
looked like a zombie. 

Within moments
of her head hitting the pillow
, she was asleep. 
Unfortunately, w
hen her alarm went off the next morning, her hand went out to turn it off but her mind never turned on.  It was almost
eight o’clock
when she rolled over and covered her face with her arm, trying to block out the sunshine
streaming in through her bedroom window
.  The sun on her face actually woke her up since it rarely happened.

“Oh my gosh,” she said, sitting straight up in bed.  “I’m late!”

Tara
jumped out of bed and showered quickly.  Grabbing the first thing that she could in her closet, she pulled on
a
navy suit and
a
simple cream silk shirt
, both of which were professional looking but still circumspect which was her preferred style in the office since it allowed her to achieve a look of responsibility
.  Pulling on
the first pair of
navy pumps
her hands could grab
, she was out the door and pulling her hai
r into a bun at the same time, then coming to a screeching halt as she
realized
that her car was not in her garage.