Page 52 of Tabloid Princess

“I was being kind.”

“Be kinder.”

“Patrick, why do you even want to? I mean come on; you know how…” I struggled for words. “How uh, out of practice I am.”

His eyes glinted with a dangerous thought and I wished I hadn’t said that. “You can practice with me any time you like.”

“Very, very generous.” I laughed and turned to the barman who was making his way over. The guy in the black T-shirt with the Kiwi accent gave me an odd look but I ignored it, reminding myself that my troubles of this week were over.

And that was when the flash lit up my face like a Christmas tree. Swiftly followed by another and then another.

For a whole three-minutes, while I struggled to get my brain to make sense of what was happening, I must have looked like a deer in headlights. Patrick, who still had his arm around my shoulders, turned me slightly away from the cameras, but it was far too late.

“Leia, who is this? Does the prince know?” called one of the photographers. “Why has the prince taken the step to set a restraining order around your street?”

“Hey!” interrupted the barman. “Not in here.” But his well-meant sentiment didn’t make any difference.

I ducked my head, shielding my face. Patrick’s arm came across my shoulders. In the back of my head a voice shouted that it would only make things worse. But right now, I needed a human shield and Patrick came close enough.

“This is awful,” I mumbled under my breath.

A steel band wound its way across my ribcage. I should never have come.

“Miss Lawrence?” I jumped at the soft sound of my name, close to where I stood hunched almost in Patrick’s armpit. For one wild moment I thought it was him.

Foolish.

Stupid.

I glanced to the side and vaguely recognised a man in a white shirt and smart trousers. Wasn’t he…?

“I’m Bill. Palace security,” he said although his words were like scrambled jelly in my brain. “If you come with me, I’ll get you out of here.”

What was happening here?

No really. What was happening?

Bill reached for me, extracting me from Patrick’s hold. “I’ll get her home,” he assured Patrick who still had a decent grip on my arm. Molly jumped up.

“Leia, are you okay?”

“Uh. No. I don’t know.” And I really didn’t.

The press were still chasing me, but more confusing than that, Prince Oliver’s bodyguard was here.

Molly’s face echoed my own thoughts.

“Miss Lawrence, if you will do as I say, I’ll get you out of here with no bother.”

I peeked over my shoulder to where at least ten photographers hovered, their faces ones of total enjoyment as they saw me being saved by palace security.

This was almost worse than him touching my hair, surely.

I nodded without really thinking and let him take a tight grip on my arm. “Head down and let me lead you.”

I didn’t question his instructions. My entire body shook. Even my hair, in a high ponytail on top of my head, shook with the tremors that wracked through me.

He crowded my space, somehow without touching me, as he guided me through the back of the bar and out into the street.