Read For King and Country for Free Online Page B

would help me sort out my conflicted feelings about what had happened. It was a long shot.
    Belle caught me around the shoulders and squeezed. “It’ll blow over.”
    I smiled gratefully. That was exactly what I needed to hear.
    It soon became clear that Belle’s mission had shifted from getting the flat set up to distracting me. By the time we were arguing over what to put on the bookshelves—I stubbornly believing it should be books—we’d all but forgotten the maelstrom waiting for us outside until we realized there was nothing but half a bottle of wine in the fridge.
    “I’ll grab some curry from the corner,” Belle said, grabbing her pocketbook.
    “You shouldn’t have to go,” I said, feeling badly. “Maybe we could order up?”
    “I might starve before then.” Belle clutched her stomach for emphasis, but I could see the real reason she didn’t want to wait any longer hiding behind her eyes. “I’ll think of a proper way for you to repay me later and I promise it will be cruel and embarrassing.”
    “It can’t be more humiliating than having my photo all over the Daily Star,” I pointed out.
    “I’ll think of something.” She winked and disappeared through the door.
    Belle’s laptop was on the counter and I grabbed it, curiosity winning out over common sense. One Google search later and I had dozens of celebrity blogs and gossip magazines to wade through. I checked out some of the Prince’s recent photos and found there had been no mistake. The unbelievably sexy man I’d stumbled upon at my graduation was exactly who the papers claimed that he was, and Belle was right. He’d been photographed with too many beautiful women to count. Every recent photo of him came complete with a leggy blond or buxom redhead or even identical twins. I doubted he’d been giving them tours of London.
    I slammed the laptop closed, annoyed that I’d even looked, but turning, the mass of papers on the counter confronted me. I reached to crumple them up and toss them in the garbage, but found myself interrupted by a buzz on the flat’s intercom.
    “Forgot her keys again,” I muttered as I hit the call button. Apparently things in London wouldn’t be too different than they were at university.
    “Miss Bishop?”
    Or maybe not. The man’s tone was clipped and formal.
    “I have no comment,” I said, anticipating what the man wanted. How long could this possibly go on before people lost interest? A week? Maybe two? Could I hide out in my flat that long? I had to start work in a week, but surely that wouldn’t be interesting to a bunch of environmental lobbyists.
    “I’m not here from the press,” the man at the other end responded. “I’m here to collect you.”
    “Collect me?” I repeated in surprise. My thoughts flashed to my mother who was probably foaming at the mouth by this point. I checked my phone, discovering ten missed calls from her.
    “Prince Alexander of Cambridge wishes to speak with you.”
    My mouth fell open and I was eternally grateful I was alone in that moment. “I’m not sure that’s a very smart idea. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a small swarm of reporters down there waiting to devour me alive.”
    “I am Prince Alexander’s personal guard. That’s why His Highness has entrusted me with bringing you safely to meet with him,” he said. “I can assure you that no one will even know that you left this building.
    “Give me a moment,” I said. Whirling around the room, I tried to think of a reason not to go, which turned out to be pretty easy given that I was being stalked by a couple dozen reporters, I was hungry, and the prince hadn’t even bothered to share his name with me when he’d casually ruined my foreseeable future with his kiss.
    But the memory of Alexander’s lips hot on mine and his hands on my waist holding me in a firm, confident embrace made my knees buckle and I found myself reaching for a pencil to scrawl a note to Belle. I told myself I was