PIPPA Grimaldi, a decidedly modern Monafortian duchess and all-around life of the party, didn’t normally ogle men. It so wasn’t her style. And she certainly never held up any man in the royal family as anything but friend material. That is, until she ran into His Royal Highness Prince Christopher, Duke of Esmeralda, third in line to the throne of Monaforte—Topher, for short—for the first time in many years.
Pippa and Topher had a history, and not such a great one. Back when he was fourteen, Pippa, best friends with Topher’s brother Zander and a regular at the palace, wandered in on Topher with his pants down, in mid, uh, self-service mode.
Mortified, Pippa burst into a nervous laughter, then hightailed it out of his room so fast that Zander glanced up from his Playboy magazine and immediately realized something was wrong. And once Zander—long the bad boy prince in the family—latched onto what she’d encountered, he never let it go. Poor Topher was dubbed “The Wanker” by his older brother, and teased mercilessly by his siblings for years.
Over the years Topher took great pains to avoid Pippa’s presence, because aside from his continued embarrassment over the episode, whenever the two of them were together, invariably the whole thing was dredged up yet again, much to his deep chagrin.
And so when Topher encountered Pippa at the reception following the royal wedding of his brother Adrian, he could only hope that royal decorum would trump his siblings’ propensity for jocularity. The last thing he needed while suited up in his regal princely military garb for this shindig was to be reduced to that shamed teenager of years earlier with a round of guffaws and elbows to the side while the siblings all referenced Topher’s manual dexterity. Sometimes even his usually-sweet sister Isabella got in on the act. And it would only make matters worse if his new sister-in-law Emma joined the fray.
He really just hoped that after being gone for so long that maybe at last the event had been tucked away in the cobwebbed attic of family lore, finally forgotten, laid to merciful rest. It always amazed him that no matter how old you got or how accomplished you became, you were always brought to your knees by some stupid happening in your life you wish you’d never committed. Or at least wished you’d locked the door for.
Of course one thing he always, always, always held close to him about that day was this: the only reason he was in the midst of the deed was that Pippa had showed up at the palace in a particularly skimpy skirt and tight tee that highlighted her burgeoning assets. What gangly, awkward teenaged boy could resist? As the two-years younger brother, Topher always had a little bit of a crush on his brother’s friend, but he also never confided this to a soul. And so in deference to her dignity, he realized all the more it needed to remain tucked away in his mind only, as it would merely serve to humiliate Pippa.
But from then on, he forever associated Pippa with his shame from that event, and rarely entertained thoughts of Pippa as anything but a family friend.
~*~
Topher had just finished his drink at the wedding reception when his brother Zander pulled him into a conversation unwittingly.
“Plus,” Zander said to his girlfriend Andi, extending his arm as his younger brother came toward them. “Soon this strapping young man will find himself a woman and the paps will latch onto him instead. Even though I am the much better looking brother.”
Apparently Andi was fearful of the paparazzi, which had caused her to flee her blossoming romance with Zander, and Zander had only somehow lured her back to Monaforte just in time for the wedding.
Topher looked at him with wide eyes like he was crazy. “Yeah, right. Besides, don’t hold your breath on that,” he said. “The chances of my marrying any time in the next millennium are slim to none.”
“That’s what I said, and look at me now,” Adrian said as he walked up to the group. “Zander, looks like finally your invisible girlfriend here took pity on you?” He nodded toward Andi, who blushed.
Topher was thrilled the conversation was focusing on Zander’s romance, but only then did he notice that Pippa was lurking on the fringe of the conversation. Pippa, looking so damned hot in a halter gown that Topher tried desperately not to stare at, because it highlighted her breasts and her shapely waist and all he needed was to deal with those thoughts and where they’d lead him at this point. Her hazel eyes seemed to sparkle against the warm melon color of her chiffon gown.
Two times two is four, four times four is sixteen, sixteen times sixteen is two hundred and fifty six, he repeated in his head, tamping down all potentially damning sexual thoughts involving the woman, including the time he’d seen her naked when she came out of the shower of the palace pool house when she was seventeen. Two times two is four, four times four is sixteen, sixteen times sixteen is two hundred and fifty six,
Topher could feel the front of his dress blues getting just a little bit snug and he continued distracting himself with simple mathematical equations until he could extricate himself from present company. He glanced out of the corner of his gray eyes to see that Pippa’s cascading brown curls—which as a teenager looked so sexy on her, tumbling over her shoulders—had been pulled up in a loose chignon, her hair topped with the obligatory tiara that most women of royalty wore to such events. Hers was interlaced with tiny flowers, and soft strands of curls framed her face that had grown only more beautiful with age. He thought she looked like quite the princess herself, even if she was actually a duchess. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but in the pecking order of royalty, she wasn’t a princess. Even if she looked like the fairytale version of one.
“Don’t worry, Andi,” Pippa said, piping into the conversation. “We all take care of each other here. You won’t be bombarded by anyone trying to get at you. Just a little here and there. Otherwise we cut ‘em off at the knees.” She made a slicing motion across the throat, jokingly.
Topher knew only too well how everyone took care of each other around here, even when it involved totally dicking on your brothers. Slicing across the throat indeed. That might have been easier for him if they had just slit his throat. Lost in thought, he rejoined the conversation as Pippa continued talking.
“I must say, most intriguing of all is little Topher here,” Pippa said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a scrawny kid. You’re looking awfully filled out.” She eyed him up and down with a look of hunger on her face.
“Down, boy,” Zander said, tapping on Pippa’s head. “I think Topher is allergic to girls.”
His brother discreetly flipped him the finger.
Awfully filled out?
If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was perhaps a baby wildebeest, and Pippa a very hungry leopard about to pounce.
Topher said a mental prayer that this was not the segue he’d been dreading, and breathed a sigh of relief when not a half a minute later was saved by the arrival of Adrian’s new bride. This time he was spared.
~*~
Pippa tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand. Something to do with Adrian and Emma’s wedding, and then something more about Caroline and Darcy showing up, engaged, of all things. Which apparently happened after Darcy’s sister Clementine orchestrated a fabulous fake-out at a party at Pippa’s family estate, which left Darcy thinking Zander was hitting on Caroline. At this very party, Zander then ended up hooking up with Andi, with whom Pippa had worked at a refugee camp in Africa months earlier.
Pippa couldn’t help but wonder why everyone around her seemed to be finding soul-mates, while she only seemed to find another excuse to host a party or play cupid with her friends’ relationships. Not that she was looking or anything; she was too busy to really worry about dealing with a boyfriend. But sometimes it seemed like it would be nice to have someone to maybe just go on a date with. Or make out with. Or more. She hadn’t scratched that itch in as long as she could remember. It wasn’t one that presented itself an opportunity to scratch when working overseas in various philanthropic capacities, which Pippa did as manager of Zander’s Prince’s Trust foundation.
Her thoughts migrated to Topher, standing several feet from her—though she knew if he’d had his way, there’d be several hundred feet separating the two of them. It had always been that way. Well, not quite always. But certainly since The Episode. Honestly, to this day Pippa could still close her eyes and conjure up the image of Topher in that compromising position. It had always left her feeling conflicted—embarrassed, no doubt, but kind of hot and bothered, too. She’d never seen such a thing before, and it was the first time she’d ever seen one of those things live and in action. God, she still felt like a rookie in the sex department. She’d had a handful of less-than-compelling relationships in college and since, but nothing that aroused much, well, arousal. Most of the guys she’d dated were kind of boring, often trying to rub shoulders with royalty, and rarely interested in Pippa as a person.
She tried to discreetly check out Topher from the corner of her eyes. He looked so damned handsome garbed in full military regalia: the crisp blue uniform, the sheathed sword, the sash and all the medals. For the first time in forever, she felt her heart almost skip a beat over a guy. But could it be a worse guy? Thanks to Pippa, Topher was pegged with that embarrassing nickname by his brothers and could never live down something that undoubtedly the whole lot of them did daily under that palace roof. Poor Topher had the grave misfortune of being caught red-handed. Literally.
She burst out laughing at her own mental joke, so loudly that everyone in the conversation turned to look at her. She tried to cover up her laughter by pretending to be choking on a sip of champagne. But her eyes met Topher’s and in that brief exchange, they both knew they were each revisiting that moment yet again.
Pippa felt horrible: the poor guy could never live down such an isolated instance in his life. No thanks to her.