Her Billionaire Prince Read online

  “It was more of the jail,” Jay said through gritted teeth.

  “Aren’t you scared you’re harboring an arsonist?” Bernadette said.

  “They’ve released her, so they must not think she’s guilty,” Jay said.

  Jay ignored Geneva’s guess that Jay had let her out on a million dollar bail.

  Katy moped over her bananas as she tried to put one into her mouth. “Just think of all the orphans you could sponsor for that kind of money.”

  Jay decided to busy himself with pouring coffee, or he’d have been tempted to throw bagels at them.

  He stood and walked over to the coffee pot. A maid hurried to assist him, but he waved her away. Within seconds, as he thought she would, Mother detached herself from the Inquisition panel and headed to his side.

  “You’re being unreasonably grouchy this morning, Jay,” she said. “Do you have to bite the girls’ heads off?”

  “Mother, if anyone makes inane comments, they deserve some head-biting.”

  “We’ve got an appointment to be fitted for the ball,” Mother said. “You’re still coming, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I promised I would.” He sounded about as enthused as a man on the way to his best friend’s funeral. Other than his mother nagging him, he didn’t particularly enjoy shopping.

  After breakfast, he went over to the window. Talia’s truck was empty, and there was no sign of her anywhere. She hadn’t touched the tray of bagels.

  ***

  As Jay suspected, his mother engineered him sitting in the limo between Geneva and Katy for the shopping trip. As a good host, Jay fixed a smile on his face and dutifully made polite conversation, all the way into the store of their choice, Gautier’s. It was, undoubtedly, an expensive store. There were employees waiting on customers with canapés and wine.

  Jay was content to just sit down and commiserate with other men flipping through magazines by the door, but his mother caught and instructed him to sit just outside the dressing rooms. He felt awkward. It was almost like being a Peeping Tom. He could see glimpses of girls discarding gowns on the floor that must cost thousands, as though they were trash. Once in a while, a girl would come out in a gown and, seeing him, would walk a bit more feminine.

  Jay couldn’t wait to make his escape.

  Geneva went first. She had a model’s body, so it was no wonder when she came out of the dressing room, each fluffy concoction fit her like a dream. She could be both innocent-looking one moment and sensuous another. If he were looking for a wife to give him perfect babies, she would be a great candidate.

  Too bad she cared so much about her hair.

  Geneva modeled at least twenty dresses, each one a different style but each still managing to make her look beautiful just the same.

  Mother came over and poked him on the leg. “You’re not still hung up on that jockey, are you?”

  “Let it rest, Mother,” he said.

  “No, I will not let it rest. Misunderstandings can come out of these unspoken issues. I just want to tell you I was against her from the start, but now, surely, you understand if I don’t want to pull a felon close to our family’s bosom.”

  “Mother,” Jay said. “You know very well that she wasn’t jailed for longer than a few hours. They were just questioning her.”

  “Yes, but my goodness, everyone saw her being carted off to jail. In fact, the paper got her picture.” She shoved the Herald under his nose. “Here.”

  There Talia was, indeed, handcuffed and being led to the police car like some common criminal. The headline blared, “Jockey on Fire.”

  “The press wasn’t at the stables that day. How did they―” His eyes narrowed. “Mother. Did you send them this picture?”

  “And if I did?” She patted her hair.

  “That was an unkind thing to do.”

  “But the arrest happened. The public deserves to know. You have always championed a free press.”

  “Never mind.” He waved his hand. “If that is the worst thing that someone could do―appear in the paper―then good for them.”

  “By the way, your stunt of taking her to Mondragón didn’t go unnoticed. The press had a field day. Did you really have to break protocol?”

  “Didn’t Father have to break protocol to keep dating you?”

  Mother pouted. “I will leave you alone if you choose either Geneva or Katy for your future wife. They are nice, well-bred girls who would be a delight to be my daughter-in-law.”

  “Mother, you are lying, and you know it.”

  She frowned. “You are accusing me of lying? How low can my son go? What did I ever do to deserve such disrespect?”

  “You don’t like either one of them; I can tell. When you talk to them, you act as though you’re listening to a Chihuahua yipe.”

  “That’s unkind of you,” his mother said. “I get annoyed sometimes, but I know what’s in their heart.”

  “And that should be enough to scare you, right? Enough to scare me, at any rate.”

  “Whatever are you talking about?” Mother said.

  “Geneva cares only about her hair, and Katy loves orphans more than she would her future husband.”

  “Stop joking about them,” Mother chastised. But a smile escaped her lips.

  “I will if you stop pushing them on me.”

  “Remember what we said before. They’re here for just a few more days. Surely you could find it in your heart to get to know them at the ball.”

  “No promises, Mother,” Jay said. “But I will do my best.”

  Katy tried far fewer clothes. By the fifth one, she was done picking out her dress. Of the two girls, he’d choose Katy. Just because she was more decisive. And working with the orphans was actually pretty impressive.

  But of course, if he could have his way, he’d just as soon pick Talia.

  He thought of her and her tough-talking ways. How she liked to hitch her jeans up toward her knee, how she breezed Eula as one. He wondered if she would even choose to attend the ball.

  Of course she wouldn’t. She hated him for not defending her, and she probably didn’t have a suitable dress.

  Jay, you didn’t inherit all those billions for nothing. Get the girl a gown.

  She would throw it at him, he was sure, fling it at his face and grind it with the heel of her boot. Unless he got someone else to give it to her. He would ask George. George was annoying, but he was a fairly neutral party to all this.

  Jay turned to a saleslady who was pouring pink lemonade into little glass flutes. “Could you please help me find a beautiful dress for someone about this tall?” He gestured to his chin. He could feel his mother’s eyes on him as he went about this awkward task.

  “What are you doing?” Mother demanded to know.

  Jay didn’t want to tell her, but he decided he no longer wanted to keep secrets from his family.

  “Getting a dress for Talia,” he said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” She looked appalled. “But if you insist, can’t we just have your secretary buy something from a less upscale department store? That would be more in keeping with her income and class in life.”

  “Mother, that’s ignorant talk.”

  She puffed her chest out. “You aren’t calling your mother that!”

  “Yes, I am, if it’s fitting. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  The saleslady returned with several sequined dresses.

  “It would have to be simple,” he mused. “Not a lot of frills, or she’d hate it.”

  “How about this?” she offered. She held up a mauve dress that had a crisscrossed band collar and a rose at the sashed waist. He couldn’t quite picture tomboyish and tough Talia wearing such a feminine dress. At the same time, he kinda liked the thought.

  “What do you think of it?” he asked the saleslady, sure his mother was rolling her eyes beside him.

  “Well, it’s a lovely dress,” the saleslady said. “It’s not as constricted around the waist as other styles.
”

  “She’s lean and fit,” he said. “Probably 110 pounds in her birthday suit.” He caught his mom’s scandalized glance. “I’m just guessing, Mother.”

  “Then this should be beautiful on her,” the saleslady said. “It’s not for one of the ladies here?”

  “No,” he assured her.

  With their shopping taken care of, Jay was so relieved for the limo to get them all back to the stables. And lo and behold, who should they run into in the parking lot heading out, but Talia. She veered off, presumably so they didn’t have to walk alongside each other. As it was, her truck was just a couple of parking spots away.

  Katy greeted Talia. “I’m glad you’re out of jail.”

  Jay cringed. Sweet Katy. She would definitely be his choice if he wanted someone naive and impressionable.

  “Thanks,” Talia said, her expression actually softening. She seemed to genuinely like Katy, which reflected well on her. Her glance flicked toward Jay.

  He hesitated and then jumped in. “Hello, Talia.”

  She froze, indecisive. It was flight or fight. She looked ready to bolt but perhaps still had the sense to be polite.

  Jay was going to ask George to give her the dress, but here Talia was. That would have been a cop-out anyway. He approached her with the boxed dress in his hand. “I wanted to give you something.”

  She glanced from the box to him and back, going rigid. “What is it?”

  He smiled. “Open it.”

  ***

  Talia didn’t know what to make of Jay’s insistence that she open the box now. It was huge―like a box of donuts, but bigger. It had a label on it from Gautier’s, a super expensive store she knew she would never in a million years step foot into. His mother and the other girls were chattering as they walked toward the mansion, with the mother giving Talia a backward stink eye.

  Talia’s hands were dirty, as usual. She probably smelled too. So when she propped the box on her truck hood and flipped it open, the delicate tissue in it caused her some alarm. Whatever this was, it looked expensive. She fingered the material and peeled back the layers. There was fabric in it, a mauve thing folded and showing a rose at the dip of its collar. A fancy ballgown.

  Anger boiled to the surface as sudden as it came. “Are you making fun of me?”

  Jay looked taken aback. “Now, I knew you’d probably say no, but―”

  “Dang right, I’m saying no.” She slammed the box shut. “A dress! Really, Jay. I’m disappointed in you.”

  “Sorry.” He sounded contrite. “I thought you could wear it to the ball.”

  She jutted out her chin. “I’m no ball kind of girl.”

  His heart sank. “I figured you probably weren’t.”

  “You mean, because you know I don’t belong?”

  “No,” he protested. “I just meant with the race coming up, you wouldn’t want to give up your Tuesday night at a dance.”

  “You’re right about that. Besides, I don’t accept expensive gifts from a man, especially from a prince!”

  Jay frowned. “Do you have to be so prideful?” he said.

  She sucked in her breath, picked up the box, and shoved it into his arms. Then she proceeded to walk around to her driver’s seat and tell Rascal to jump in.

  “Talia,” Jay said, trying to block her. “Listen. If you don’t use it, then just give it back. But until then…”

  “Get out of my way,” she growled.

  He stepped back and watched her turn the engine over. Luckily, it sputtered to life.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  When Talia came home, her knuckles were white from the anger she still felt over Jay’s insulting offer. Giving her a dress like she was some kept woman!

  But then part of her felt silly. It was such a pretty dress, and maybe it could have even fit her at the ball…

  She shut that thought down real quick.

  “Stop it, Talia,” she muttered. “You’re a jockey, nothing else. A jockey with a felon’s rep, even.”

  Climbing out of the truck, followed by a Rascal who was happy to be home, and stretching her legs after a long day of working with the horses, she went to get her saddle out of the back of the truck. She remembered she’d left it at the stables since she no longer had a reason to take it home, and the pang of losing Stormy came fresh and strong once again, tearing at her heart and making her ache with loss.

  And then she saw Jay’s box stuck in the back like a Trojan infiltrator.

  The nerve of that man. The nerve!

  She would show him. She would sell the dress somewhere, and using that money, she would buy…

  Enough feed for Eula for the day.

  Talia, that’s pathetic.

  Sadness washed over her. She knew buying Eula was a long shot, but a girl could dream, couldn’t she? That was probably more realistic than the dream Jay was force-feeding her. A dream that, somehow, they were in the same league and could have a life together. He was cruel; that’s what he was. He wanted to build up her hopes, only to dash them. Maybe he was just having her audition along with Geneva and Katy. Then he would pick one of them after Kentucky Oaks and crown one the winner.

  She sighed. She didn’t even have a prayer of a chance of making the grade with his mother. She certainly didn’t know how to, nor did she want to, act like a princess.

  Rascal watched as she took the box inside, licking his chops.

  “Oh, you poor thing,” Talia said. “This isn’t pizza, sweet boy. This is a dress.” She grimaced at the box. “Yeah, totally worthless, in my opinion. At least a pizza can fill your belly, eh?” She scratched Rascal behind his ear.

  “Speaking of food,” she said, “we’d better get you some, huh?” For one wild moment, she thought about going to the pasture to feed Stormy. She tried to fight back tears, because she very much wanted to hug his soft neck and go for a ride.

  “Someday,” she told Rascal as she poured some dry dog food in his dish, “I’m gonna get Eula; you’ll see. We’re going to make lots of winnings and save up. Maybe one win is all it will take, and we’ll have the money so you can have another four-legged buddy.”

  Rascal ate his food without looking at her. Just occasional glances to make sure she wasn’t stealing his food, she guessed. She thought about food too, for her belly, and straightened up in the yard. It was getting dark, and the spooks were about, it seemed. The wind moaned, and leaves twirled with echoing whispers.

  She mentally kicked herself. Why was she going around, scaring herself silly, when she didn’t need to? This place was perfectly safe before Jay started putting thoughts in her mind.

  Still, she strained to listen before deciding the noises she was hearing were just night sounds. None of the lights were lit when she walked into her house. She felt around on the wall for the light switch and flipped it on. An anemic yellowish bulb illuminated the small cabin, the simple layout of living room and kitchen leading up to the lone bedroom.

  She swallowed, feeling the pang of loneliness. She used to think silence was golden, and it still could be, but talking to her dog didn’t really qualify as a conversation. Maybe someday, if he could talk. She smiled to herself and rooted around in the pantry for something to eat. She found a can of black-eyed peas and some stale fried chicken in the fridge.

  Staring at her meager meal, she blew at her hair. She really needed to shop. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any money. Her stopgap measures of buying milk and eggs weren’t enough for some healthier meals.

  The next day, it would probably be leftover black-eyed peas and more of the chicken. She would mix it up and add in some lettuce in her vegetable compartment that hadn’t spoiled yet.

  Woo-hoo.

  Within five minutes, she was done with her so-called dinner, and she sat on a chair outside the cabin. She stared at the stars and saw a shooting star push through. She closed her eyes and made a wish as she used to when she was a kid in her umpteenth home somewhere new yet again.

  She whispered, “I w
ish…”

  What did she wish?

  She opened her eyes and stared at the night sky, blurry from her tears. “I wish I wouldn’t be lonely. I wish I could find a love of my own.”

  Jay’s face swam into her consciousness. Fitting into the picture like a puzzle piece.

  When she was younger, she used to put together the puzzle pieces at her foster mom’s house, for lack of anything better to do. One of them was missing a piece, and that really bugged Talia.

  Her foster mom then, a cheerful mom of nine, said, “Sometimes, you will miss a piece, and that’s okay. It’s perfectly imperfect.”

  Talia didn’t like her answer and turned the room upside down, trying to find the missing piece. It obsessed her until her foster mom hugged her and soothed her.

  “I need to find the piece,” Talia said. “I need to!” She didn’t know why. There was no rhyme nor reason to her tantrum, other than it wigged her out to have a puzzle incomplete.

  Her foster mother said, “Sometimes, you will just have to let go and let the puzzle pieces fall wherever they may.”

  Was Jay the missing puzzle piece in her life? They liked each other enough. He was, of course, a gorgeous guy, especially in that suit of his, oy. But more than that, they’d found a connection after Stormy passed on that went deeper than the surface. For one of the few times in her life, she felt safe to cry. To mourn. To care deeply for another living being. He had seen her at her sadness, and still, he continued to care about her.

  Her mind wandered to the box she’d tossed carelessly on the couch. She was curious about the dress. Even if she didn’t get to keep it, she wanted to know how it would be against her reflection in the mirror.

  She washed and dried her hands and then walked over to the box. Picking up the corner of the lid, she pulled it open. The mauve looked a dusky rose in the room’s poor light. But the dimness couldn’t disguise its beauty. The fabric shone with a satin luster, the fibers fine and expensive-feeling.

  She trailed a finger over the fabric and over the flower-accented sash. Then she leaned over and pulled it out by the shoulders, shaking it out gently. Tissue fell where it had been stored.