Jackie Braun - Exclusive! - Hollywood Life or Royal Wife? / Marriage Scandal, Showbiz Baby! / Sex, Lies and a Security Tape

‘That it’s another Monte Carlo—filled with rich tycoons flitting about on glitzy yachts. I suppose the local potentate is luring them in by the dozen. Personally I think it’s criminal to spoil somewhere which up until now seems to have been preserved from an invasion by the outside world just for the sake of money. It sounds a bit like a theme park to me.’

‘You don’t say?’ He raised an amused, quizzical brow and leaned back in his gilt dining chair, the better to observe her. Quite the little spitfire, Miss Woodward, if her conversation up until now was anything to go by. ‘Let me get this right. You think that the Prince of Malvarina is some sort of exotic dictator, making a theme park out of what was once a beautiful, unspoiled Mediterranean retreat?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Maybe you should go and take a look at it yourself before forming such a cast-iron opinion. You never know. You might be agreeably surprised.’

‘I suppose you could be right about that, but I doubt it,’ she confided. ‘I heard the Prince himself is here, flogging the place. That doesn’t bode well, does it?’

‘Definitely a bad sign,’ he agreed.

‘In fact, I was meant to be sitting next to him tonight. They must have changed the seating.’

‘Really?’ His laughing dark eyes met hers full on.

All at once Victoria’s stomach lurched. ‘Uh-oh,’ she murmured, turning bright red as she leaned forward and peered beyond his plate at the name card. Her worst expectations were fulfilled. Sitting back, she took a deep breath. ‘Look, I’m dreadfully sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. If I’d known it was you I never would have—Oh, dear, how embarrassing.’

‘Signorina,’ he said, slipping his hand over hers, ‘please don’t be upset. I assure you there is no need to be distressed. I’ve never been described as a potentate before, but it has a certain ring to it. I must remember to tell my PR people to slip it into the next brochure we do for Malvarina. In fact, the only bit I objected to was your certainty that I am trying to create a theme park.’

His hand was still laid over hers, warm and reassuring, and Victoria felt a delicious shiver run up her arm. She looked up at him. Their eyes met and she smiled apologetically. ‘I’m always putting my foot in it. I’m truly sorry.’

He gave her fingers a light squeeze. ‘The only way I shall forgive you is if you personally visit Malvarina and allow me to dispel what I truly believe to be your false image of the island. I certainly intend for it to be very different from what you describe.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said, drawing her hand away. ‘I suppose I should be fair and give the place a chance before judging it so arbitrarily. I’m sure it’s lovely. I just don’t want to move anywhere.’

‘I understand. But if you have to move, Malvarina may not be such a bad spot as you think. But then I’m prejudiced.’

AN HOUR LATER, VICTORIA was surprised at how quickly the dinner had gone by. Before she knew it, the guests were being ushered into the ballroom where an orchestra was striking up. The Prince was still at her side, and Victoria realised that she was far more at ease in his presence than she had been while meeting Hollywood moguls and stars. There was something easy and natural about him. Amazingly, he felt like the only real person she’d met here.

‘Would you like to dance?’ Rodolfo smiled down into her eyes, and for a moment Victoria’s pulse missed a beat. There was something very charming about this handsome man, she acknowledged.

She accepted the offer and accompanied him onto the floor. As his arms encircled her she felt a thrill course up her spine. She told herself to stop it immediately. He was just being polite, just trying to get people to go and live on his island—that was why he was being so nice to her. She must not lose sight of that. But it was hard not to feel light-headed as they twirled about the room and the musky scent of his aftershave reached her.

She could see Anne watching approvingly from the sidelines and groaned inwardly. She could imagine all the directives the woman would be giving her shortly. As the music subsided and they walked off the dance floor a flash went off in their faces and Victoria cringed involuntarily. At the same moment Rodolfo’s arm slipped protectively about her and she felt herself being guided quickly out of the ballroom and through the French doors that led onto the terrace.

‘Damn photographers,’ he exclaimed as they stepped outside. ‘They never give one any peace.’

‘No, they don’t,’ she murmured, shuddering.

‘I would have thought you would be used to that by now? Don’t all movie stars crave the limelight?’ He regarded her critically from under dark brows.

‘Not me,’ she replied with a half-smile, crossing her arms and staring out across the Croisette and the twinkling lights of the yachts beyond.

‘Victoria?’ Anne’s voice at the French window made her turn around. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ she said apologetically, smiling at the Prince, ‘but that top Paris magazine I told you about wants to interview you.’

‘Now?’ Victoria grimaced.

‘Right away, I’m afraid. It was the only available time.’ Anne flashed a quick smile at Rodolfo.

‘Okay. I guess I don’t have a choice. Goodnight,’ Victoria said, stretching her hand out towards the Prince.

‘Goodnight.’ He raised her fingers to his lips. ‘And, please, don’t forget your promise.’ Their eyes met, his full of laughter and challenge, hers tentative.

‘Right,’ Victoria mumbled, aware of Anne’s interested eyes upon her.

Seconds later the actress and the agent were hurrying down the corridor back to Victoria’s suite for the interview.

‘What was that all about?’ Anne enquired. ‘What did you promise? I hope it wasn’t a press interview, because I gave exclusive rights to the Parisian Magazine. You can’t negotiate these things on your own, you know, and—’

‘Oh, do stop it, Anne. Don’t you ever think of anything but business?’ Victoria complained, exasperated. ‘He only asked me to get in touch with him if I ever went to that wretched island of his. And, since you’re so keen for me to move there, I should have thought you’d be pleased.’

‘Oh. Okay,’ Anne muttered, taken aback. The Prince wanted to see Vic again. That could be great PR. Better not discourage her. On the contrary, the more she thought about it the more the idea appealed. By the time they’d reached the suite door she was forming a plan. ‘Right, you go ahead, and I’ll tell them you’re ready.’

‘Just a sec,’ Victoria said, feeling the capsule in her pocket. ‘I need to go to the loo.’

‘Okay, but don’t be long. They’re waiting, and we’re running late.’

Feeling like a prisoner, Victoria slipped into the marble bathroom. It was empty, and she leaned a moment against the sink and took a deep breath. How long would all this socialising go on? Why couldn’t she just get on with the next film instead of having to go through all this agony?

But there was no way out.

Taking out the pill, she popped it in her mouth and drank a glass of water, then closed her eyes and waited for it to take effect. Ah! There. A minute or two later she raised her head, dragged her fingers through her hair, checked her lipgloss and braced herself. It was show-time once more. Still, as she stepped out of the bathroom and headed for the salon where the interview was to take place, a vision of the Prince flashed before her. She’d felt strangely reassured in his company.

AFTER VICTORIA HAD DEPARTED, Rodolfo stood for a few more minutes on the terrace, contemplating the night. In the background he heard the buzz of the party, the music, the laughter, the exaggerated exclamations and the smooth conversation. He had no desire to return inside. Something about Victoria had left him thoughtful, intrigued. Not just her ethereal beauty, which was without a doubt staggering, but the natural way in which she responded. There was no artifice in her manner, no guile. It was deliciously refreshing.