The Royal's American Love Read Free Page A

know this person. He could run and tell anyone and everyone her
secret. Yet she found herself continuing to speak.
    “The truth, of one kind or another. The real truth. Not the
‘who, what, where, when, why, and how’ of journalism. I want to touch something
a little deeper. I want to immortalize something that is more important, that
perhaps some people don’t know about.”
    “That sounds quite beautiful,” Nikolos said thoughtfully.
“Are you sure you’re not an artist?”
    “Oh god no,” she said with a light laugh. “The truth is that
I tried the fiction gig, and I don’t care for it. I can do it, but my prose
just feels…flat, you know? I want…I want to work with the truth, to make it
better than fiction, to show the world.”
    Something about her last words seemed to move him, and he
took her hand in his warm one.
    “I can tell that you are a very passionate woman,” he said,
his voice dropping a little. She felt that warm shiver go through her, but she
grinned up at him gamely.
    “And I can tell that you are very good with women,” she
said in that same husky voice. “Tell me, does that get you a lot of attention?”
    The moment those words left her mouth, she was afraid that
she had gone too far, but then he grinned. It was a more real expression than
she had seen yet, and it changed his face from merely handsome to entrancing.
    “You caught me out,” he said, in a much more natural tone
of voice. “May I simply say that I’m impressed and call it good?”
    “I would call it very good,” she said. This time, she let a
little bit of the attraction she was feeling drip into her voice, and she
mimicked his look, taking in his body in its well-fitted tuxedo. “What do you
want me to call you?”
    He started to answer her, but then his phone rang. His look
of dismay was so intent she burst out laughing, unable to maintain the femme
fatale exterior.
    “Go answer it,” she said. “I know what being on call is
like.”
    With a faintly thunderous expression, he strode a bit away
to take the call.
    Marianna was content to wait for him, but then she saw a
terribly familiar face in the crowd. With an inward curse, she ducked behind a
pillar.
    Morris Fitzsimmons was a muckraker from the paper where she
had worked. He was notorious for a certain kind of malice that made him a good
gossip monger and a terrible person. If he was at this gala, he was likely
looking to dig up some kind of dirt, and Marianna knew he would never believe
that she was Opal Featherstone’s grandniece. He would start digging, and he
would start finding things, and then Opal might get her heart broken. Marianna couldn’t
live with that.
    With stealth skills that would have been the envy of any
spy, she skated through the crowd, avoiding Morris’s darting eye. With her
lovely hairdo and dress, he might not have recognized her at all, but when it
came to something this important, she decided it was far better to be safe than
sorry.
    As she made her way to the entrance, she spared a thought
for the handsome emissary she had been having such a good time with.
    Well, the clock struck midnight, and now Cinderella has
to get home before she turns into a pumpkin ,Marianna thought. It
was really just a little dream, anyway.
    She knew that, while the gala might be Opal’s real life, it
wasn’t hers. That was fine. Tomorrow she would return the clothes to Mei, and
she would start looking for another job.
    An hour later, while she relaxed in front of the
television, a notification popped up on her phone.
    With a frown, she realized it was from Henry, Opal’s
assistant.
    Are you interested in further ghostwriting work? An
associate of mine has made clear a need that he has been trying to fill.
    Marianne’s eyes opened wide. Maybe she would have work
sooner than she’d thought.
    Very interested, thank you for thinking of me, Henry! What
are the details?
    The response came back very quickly.
    What do you think of spending the next month