Page 51 of Tabloid Princess

Molly dropped her bottom lip. “I bet that didn’t go down well.”

“Nope.” I shivered as I remembered that look of utter disappointment on her face. “Then of course she asked the question I’ve always been dreading.”

Molly nodded. She didn’t need to ask what it was, but Patrick did, “What is that?”

“Why she doesn’t have a dad.”

“She must have mentioned it before? She’s six and as sharp as a razor.”

“She has, but never quite the same as today. It was like today she asked and expected the truth in return. That she would be able to tell the difference between me brushing over the subject and the truth.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her the truth. That it had only ever been the two of us since the day I knew she existed.”

Molly reached over and grabbed my hand.

My voice tightened. “Then she asked if her dad didn’t want her and that was why the prince didn’t want to come for tea.” The pain in my chest was so intense I couldn’t breathe.

“Leia.” Molly squeezed my fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

Part of me, a large part, wanted to just disappear, to take away the pain, the ache, the emptiness that existed within me.

“I need another drink.” I pushed back from the table, breaking my contact with Molly’s hand.

“I’ll go.” She grabbed her purse.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll go. It’s quiet in here and anyway I think the press storm is over. It really was a storm in a teacup. Thank goodness I’m not that interesting.”

I’d got off lightly with the depth to which the press had dug. My biggest fear of having my history with my mother outed hadn’t come to fruition. I knew I had the prince and his timely and somewhat excessive response to the situation to thank for that.

But then if he hadn’t touched my hair in public, none of this would have happened.

I shivered a little as my memory skipped to that one fleeting moment; his fingers brushing along my jaw.

I needed to get over this. Now. After everything I’d survived, destruction at the hands of a wild and crazy dream seemed almost silly.

The bar seemed clear and I relaxed, waiting for one of the guys in black T-shirts to come and serve me. Patrick’s arm fell over my shoulder again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You know how much you mean to me. I’d hate for you to be upset.”

I wanted to push him off. His arm hung too heavy across my shoulders. He was just being kind, I had to remind myself.

Annoying. But kind.

“I’m fine, Patrick. Honestly, it’s been a shock, but really if it’s cleared up this quick then I don’t think I’m going to waste my time worrying about it.”

He turned, unleashing his panty melting smile in my direction; except it did nothing to my panties except wish I’d put some form of girdle on.

There was something wrong with me. There must be. I’d seen more women than I’d ever have wanted to witness fall at Patrick’s feet, but he just did nothing for me.

But then as Molly had told me numerous times my lady bits were well and truly dead. My lack of response no longer surprised me.

Smiling a little, mainly not to be rude, I poked him in the chest. “Patrick, you and I both know that us going on a date would be a disaster. Molly is my best friend. Hell, you’ve been a good friend to me as well the last few years.”

His smile only widened, and I rolled my eyes, almost guessing his next words before they were out of his mouth. “I can be a friend with benefits.”

“Not a chance.”

“Molly said you were thinking about it.” He pouted like a child, which really wasn’t sexy at all.