Tangled Up in Princes (Royal Romances Book 1) by Molly Jameson Page A
Authors: Molly Jameson
Tags: Romance
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laughed as she shoved fries in her mouth and fell a little more in love with her prince.
Chapter Four
Carrie sat at the old-fashioned, probably antique, dressing table brushing out her hair. She missed Edward. She wanted to see him again so badly there was an actual, physical ache from the longing. And she was pretty darned pissed about that.
"It was just supposed to be a fling, you idiot," she said to her reflection.
Carrie yanked her hair, separating it into sections, and began braiding. She should have known better. She just wasn't fling material. What did she know about a fling? Amanda was the one who knew about flings. Look where it got her -- getting married to a gorgeous, rich, impossibly kind man. Where did it get Carrie? Sitting alone in her room, waiting for Edward for the second night in a row, that was where.
"He's not coming," she told herself, "He's probably in London, or maybe even Paris, with some size triple zero supermodel. For all I know, he's engaged to some gorgeous princess from ... from ... from some country that still has princesses. Here I am pining away for a guy I barely know. I am such an idiot!"
"Actually, you're not, not from what Edward says."
Carrie let out a scream as a portion of the wall behind her moved, and a beautiful woman stepped out.
"You must be Carrie. I'm Lizzy, Edward's sister."
"You just came through the wall," Carrie gaped.
"Secret passage. My ancestors couldn't let something like propriety keep them from much-anticipated nighttime excursions."
"Your ancestors?"
"They built this castle. Of course, that's been hundreds of years ago."
She dusted cobwebs from her hair.
"And I bet it's been nearly that long since anybody used that passage."
"You're a princess."
Carrie jumped to her feet. Again with the whole curtsy question. What was proper protocol when the Princess Royal popped out of the wall in your room?
Lizzy bent to look in the mirror and adjusted her very expensive sweater, silk and cashmere if Carrie was any judge.
"You're wrong about Edward. He isn't some international playboy. He isn't out with a supermodel or a princess. He's utterly responsible in every particular, probably the best of our lot," Lizzy grinned, "And he isn't a jerk or a bridge troll."
"Oh man, he told you that?"
"Jamie told me. Actually, Jamie has told everyone. You've quite endeared yourself to my brothers."
"I'm sorry for calling your brother names."
"Are you really?"
"No. He had it coming, but I don't want you to have me thrown in the dungeon or something."
Lizzy laughed a wide, open-mouthed laugh.
"I like you, indeed, I do. I will tell Edward that I approve."
"Could you also tell him that I'm through waiting for him, and I don't care if I ever see him again?"
"If you're quite serious on that count, it would be a shame. He sent me here to deliver a message. He wants you to meet him on the rooftop later. I think he's arranged for a dinner up there. He'd have called, but he's afraid someone is tracking him using his mobile."
Lizzy rolled her eyes as though she found this possibility preposterous.
"He didn't want to risk having you hounded by paparazzi."
Carrie put a hand to her temple. Two princes, a princess, and paparazzi-- it made her head spin. She was only a knitting shop owner from Kentucky, after all.
Lizzy rested a hand on Carrie's shoulder.
"I know it's a lot. If you aren't used to it, it can be overwhelming. Just give it a bit of time. Edward really likes you. I've never seen him this way about a woman before. Try to get past the title and the family to see what he really is."
"I don't care about the title,” Carrie said.
"That's why you're so perfect for him. Only try to be patient with us."
"He's really coming later? You're certain?"
"He told me, and Edward is nothing if not a man of his word."
Footsteps coming down the hall stopped outside the door.
"That'll be my sister, Amanda."
"Phillip's bride?"--Lizzy darted back toward the
Chapter Four
Carrie sat at the old-fashioned, probably antique, dressing table brushing out her hair. She missed Edward. She wanted to see him again so badly there was an actual, physical ache from the longing. And she was pretty darned pissed about that.
"It was just supposed to be a fling, you idiot," she said to her reflection.
Carrie yanked her hair, separating it into sections, and began braiding. She should have known better. She just wasn't fling material. What did she know about a fling? Amanda was the one who knew about flings. Look where it got her -- getting married to a gorgeous, rich, impossibly kind man. Where did it get Carrie? Sitting alone in her room, waiting for Edward for the second night in a row, that was where.
"He's not coming," she told herself, "He's probably in London, or maybe even Paris, with some size triple zero supermodel. For all I know, he's engaged to some gorgeous princess from ... from ... from some country that still has princesses. Here I am pining away for a guy I barely know. I am such an idiot!"
"Actually, you're not, not from what Edward says."
Carrie let out a scream as a portion of the wall behind her moved, and a beautiful woman stepped out.
"You must be Carrie. I'm Lizzy, Edward's sister."
"You just came through the wall," Carrie gaped.
"Secret passage. My ancestors couldn't let something like propriety keep them from much-anticipated nighttime excursions."
"Your ancestors?"
"They built this castle. Of course, that's been hundreds of years ago."
She dusted cobwebs from her hair.
"And I bet it's been nearly that long since anybody used that passage."
"You're a princess."
Carrie jumped to her feet. Again with the whole curtsy question. What was proper protocol when the Princess Royal popped out of the wall in your room?
Lizzy bent to look in the mirror and adjusted her very expensive sweater, silk and cashmere if Carrie was any judge.
"You're wrong about Edward. He isn't some international playboy. He isn't out with a supermodel or a princess. He's utterly responsible in every particular, probably the best of our lot," Lizzy grinned, "And he isn't a jerk or a bridge troll."
"Oh man, he told you that?"
"Jamie told me. Actually, Jamie has told everyone. You've quite endeared yourself to my brothers."
"I'm sorry for calling your brother names."
"Are you really?"
"No. He had it coming, but I don't want you to have me thrown in the dungeon or something."
Lizzy laughed a wide, open-mouthed laugh.
"I like you, indeed, I do. I will tell Edward that I approve."
"Could you also tell him that I'm through waiting for him, and I don't care if I ever see him again?"
"If you're quite serious on that count, it would be a shame. He sent me here to deliver a message. He wants you to meet him on the rooftop later. I think he's arranged for a dinner up there. He'd have called, but he's afraid someone is tracking him using his mobile."
Lizzy rolled her eyes as though she found this possibility preposterous.
"He didn't want to risk having you hounded by paparazzi."
Carrie put a hand to her temple. Two princes, a princess, and paparazzi-- it made her head spin. She was only a knitting shop owner from Kentucky, after all.
Lizzy rested a hand on Carrie's shoulder.
"I know it's a lot. If you aren't used to it, it can be overwhelming. Just give it a bit of time. Edward really likes you. I've never seen him this way about a woman before. Try to get past the title and the family to see what he really is."
"I don't care about the title,” Carrie said.
"That's why you're so perfect for him. Only try to be patient with us."
"He's really coming later? You're certain?"
"He told me, and Edward is nothing if not a man of his word."
Footsteps coming down the hall stopped outside the door.
"That'll be my sister, Amanda."
"Phillip's bride?"--Lizzy darted back toward the
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