“Ella, what on earth have you been doing these last few days?”
Ella turned from the coat check at the Bryant Ball to see her boss, Chase Bryant, staring at her with a bemused smile. He looked, she thought, rather awful. Oh, Chase would always be gorgeous, with his blue-green eyes, brown hair and totally toned physique, but now his face was gray and gaunt, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“I’ve been entertaining Prince Philippe, just as you asked me to do,” she said. “What have you been doing, Chase? Sorry to be blunt, but you look terrible.”
“Never mind me. You haven’t seen the tabloids, have you?”
Ella stilled, felt something in her freeze. Perhaps it was her heart. “The tabloids?”
He shook his head with a grimace. “They’ve had a field day.”
“No—”
“You probably don’t want to see—”
“Trust me, I do.”
A few minutes later Chase returned with a handful of celebrity magazines, the kind Philippe featured heavily in. Only now Ella was in them, too. She stared at the fuzzy photographs, a montage of their day together in New York. The restaurant—they’d sat in the window. The very public kiss at Rockefeller Center. Leaving the Guggenheim in a cab, very obviously together.
But the worst part was the headline. Prince Tells All: Exclusive Interview About His Manhattan Fling!
“I’m sorry, Ella,” Chase said quietly.
“No, I’m sorry.” She thrust the magazines away from her. “Sorry I was so stupid…again.” Clearly Philippe had planned it all. Chosen his moments for the perfect photographs. Seduced her—and for what purpose? Did this amuse him? Or did he get something out of it? Did it even matter?
She gave Chase a rather watery smile. “I’ve been totally unprofessional.”
“Never mind that,” he said roughly, giving her a hug, which Ella gratefully returned. Chase had often felt like the big brother she’d never had. “Are you okay?”
“No.” She sniffed. “But I will be.” She was strong. She’d recovered from this kind of betrayal before; she would again. She had to.
“If I’d had any idea this was going to happen—”
“Oh Chase, I’m a grown-up. I’m in charge of my own life and my own heart. I do appreciate the big-brother protective thing you have going, but this is my fault. I never should have—” She swallowed hard, not wanting to finish that sentence. Fallen in love with the Playboy Prince.
Chase smiled down at her and wiped a tear that had trickled down her cheek. “You will get over this, sweetheart.”
“Excuse me,” a voice suddenly cut in with steely authority, “but please take your hands off Ella.”
“What—” Ella glanced up, her slack-jawed surprise turning quickly to fury. Prince Philippe stood there, looking like he wanted to punch Chase.