Ella stepped inside the Guggenheim’s famous spiral tower and her mouth went dry. All around her elegant and well-heeled guests circulated, glittering with jewels, holding glasses of champagne aloft. In her simple silver sheath dress she felt respectable enough, if only just. She glanced at Philippe, who was wearing his formal state dress— white tie and tails with a red sash across his chest. He looked handsome and dignified and yet somehow remote, and she could believe now more than ever that he was a prince, on his way to being a king.
His hand slid around her waist, and with his other he plucked two flutes of champagne from a passing tray and handed her one. “I suspect this will all be very boring,” he murmured in her ear. “Which is why I asked you to join me.”
She half turned to him, conscious of how her breast brushed against his arm. “Oh? I’m just your entertainment?”
“You’re my salvation,” he answered, and with his arm still around her waist he guided her into the crowd.
The next few hours passed in a blur. Philippe was charming with everyone and seemed to know them all. He introduced her easily, and Ella saw the speculation flare in people’s eyes as they wondered just what her relationship to Prince Philippe was. Ella didn’t explain, and neither did Philippe. What could either of them say, anyway? They’d met just over twenty-four hours ago, and their remaining time together was limited.
Yet Ella didn’t want it to end. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye, even though she was well aware Philippe would be. And she should be, too, considering her own past. Even if Philippe decided he wanted to continue some kind of relationship with her, what future could they possibly have? She wasn’t queen material—and she wouldn’t change herself to fit a man’s ideal ever again.
Toward the end of the evening her cell phone rang. Ella saw it was Chase and she excused herself to a private alcove to talk to him.
“Chase? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound fine, Ella thought. He sounded exhausted and even depressed.
“What’s going on? Are you going to meet with Philippe—”
“I’ll meet him at the ball tomorrow night.”
“The ball—” She’d completely forgotten about the Bryant Ball, hosted by Chase and his two brothers. The Bryants were a prominent family in New York City, and the Bryant Ball was one of the highlights of the city’s social calendar. Ella always went, at least ever since she’d been working with Chase. “What about tomorrow?”
“I’m still busy.”
“Is something wrong?” She’d never known Chase to be absent from work, especially in the middle of such an important bid.
Chase sighed. “Nothing’s wrong. I just had something…unexpected happen. Can you keep Philippe occupied for another day?”
One more day. Ella swallowed. “Yes.”
“Thanks, Ella. I really do appreciate it.”
A few seconds later they said goodbye and Ella stood there for a moment, her mind whirling. She felt Philippe’s hand on her shoulder.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes—”
“Then,” he asked, his voice dropping to a suggestive murmur, “how about we leave this party?”
“And go where?”
Philippe turned her around to face him. “You could come back to my hotel with me.”