Page 78 of All the Drama from New York

“I don’t know. Tahiti is cool. Once I’d finished the photo assignment I decided to stick around for a bit. Staying at a low-priced guesthouse and eating at the local restaurants makes my dollar go a really long way.”

Ryan hung up the phone, he wasn’t interested in cheap travel tips. He was angry with Liam, but livid with whomever had decided to tear him and Camille down.

Grabbing his phone, he headed for the elevator. As soon as he pressed the button, the doors opened. A crestfallen Camille stood before him.

She took one look at Ryan before throwing her purse, a bag of fabric samples, and a packet of snickerdoodles at him. She then promptly burst into tears.

His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her into his embrace. “It’s ok, it’s ok. Today has been horrible, but we’ll get through this. I promise,” he reassured her.

“Did you read what they wrote about me in that article? They said I looked old, and pasty faced. My heritage is Norman and Scandinavian—my skin is meant to be pale. And when did thirty one become old?”

He hadn’t caught that last comment, but there’d been plenty of other nasty ones about Camille. All focused on her so called short comings. Her curvy hips and ass. Her long straight hair. Her porcelain complexion.

All the things he loved about her.

They would survive this, there was no other option. But first he owed her the truth. “This is all my fault.”

She stiffened in his embrace, and began to pull away. Ryan didn’t let her go, knowing full well if he did, he might not get a second chance. Instead he led Camille down the stairs and into her apartment. When he’d got her settled beside him on the couch, he took her hands in his, sucked in a deep breath— and began.

“Do you remember the host fromBachelors on the Beach, Derick Stad? Well apparently, he called my brother Liam. Liam told him I was working for you. Don’t ask me why Derick didn’t just ring me in the first place.”

Her brows furrowed. “Why was he calling?”

“I think he must have somehow come across the video of us colliding in the street. The one which has been circulating online over the past month or so. It hadn’t done anything until TikTok picked it up. As soon as Derick realized it was good old Ryan Collins fromBachelors on the Beach, he must have decided a publicity push would help a reunion show get more support from the network.”

“So your brother told him you were working with me. And when Derick did some digging and discovered that I’m part of a family of billionaires, he must have thought he’d struck gold. So Derick took the story to the press,” said Camille.

“I’d say that’s what happened.”

She had every right to be angry. They’d both been blindsided by all of this, but they wouldn’t make that mistake again. Pulling Camille’s cell phone out of his jean’s pocket, Ryan handed it to her.

“I don’t know what Derick or anyone else thinks they are playing at, but from this moment on, you and I will be the onesmaking and taking the calls. We are the ones who will set the narrative of our lives.”

She leaned into his embrace, and offered Ryan her lips. He didn’t hesitate to make it a long lingering kiss. This was the last time anyone hurt the woman he loved.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

When they finally broke the kiss, Camille didn’t pull away, instead she rested her head against Ryan’s chest, and breathed in his cologne. The warm mix of sandalwood and bergamot, along with the raw scent of Ryan was everything she needed.

“Did you want me to call Bryce back?” she asked.

Ryan shook his head. “No. He said he will organize some security for us, and they will be working in the background every time we leave the apartment. The Royal security team is also going to step in to help with preparations for the runway show. But Bryce wants you to talk to them about that, said he didn’t want to be stepping on anyone’s toes.”

She was grateful that Bryce had her back. And now she had Ryan in her corner.

He kissed her once more. “I of course will do whatever you need me to do. But can we agree to keep our lines of communication open? No more dashing out the door?”

“Yes. Sorry I ran off like that— I just needed some space.”

She went to give him another long, sweet kiss, but the sound of a familiar ring tone suddenly filled the room.

Heart racing, Camille drew back.She,the classic love song by the famous French singer Charles Aznavour, was her mother’s ring tone. And if Marina Royal was calling that could only mean one thing. Word of her daughter’s troubles had already reached Paris.

Camille hit answer, and put the phone to her ear. Ryan didn’t need to hear whatever her mother might have to say. “Bonjour maman!” she said mustering her cheeriest voice.

“Bonjour à tous, Camille Adeline.”

Marina only ever addressed Camille by both her first and middle names when she wished to convey her displeasure with something Camille had done.

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