Page 18 of Royal Valentine

But I didn’t get to discover what he was going to say or do next because we were interrupted. The first thing I noticed was someone yelling. Then there were multiple voices.

I turned my head to look, and camera bulbs started flashing and I had to raise my hand to my eyes to block out the bright glare.

My heartbeat thundered inside me and my breathing turned shallow.

Oh no. This couldn’t be happening.

Not paparazzi. Not now.

They were descending on us like a pack of wolves.

“How did they find me?” I moaned as he said, “I cannae believe they’ve found me!”

We stared at each other as the paparazzi surged toward us, jockeying for position to get the best shot.

“They’re afteryou?” we asked each other at the exact same moment.

He grabbed me by the hand and we started to run.

CHAPTER SEVEN

We slipped into a tiny church and Callum shut the door quietly behind us. We stood in the doorway, listening as the paparazzi ran past.

After several heartbeats of complete silence, he said, “I think we owe each other an explanation. Who are you?”

I let out a sigh. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you. I’m Princess Ilaria of Monterra. King Dominic is my cousin.”

His face went slack.

“I know you thought I was an American student. I switched places with my public relations assistant, and I have her wallet. I just wanted one weekend to myself to enjoy Rome without being hounded by the press. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth earlier. I was literally just about to tell you—I wanted to take you to my hotel because I thought if you could see where I was staying, it would make my claim easier to believe. Although I guess the horde of paparazzi probably makes it pretty believable.”

I’d been hoping he might laugh, but he took a step back from me and stayed quiet. Something was very wrong. My heart was beating so loudly, and there was a sick taste in my mouth.

“Who are you?” I asked, trying to steady myself. Maybe I was imagining things. “Why did you think they were chasing you?”

Another long pause before he finally answered, “I’m His Royal Highness, Prince Callum of Doune.”

It was like someone had set off a bomb. My ears were ringing, my body rigid, total shock. “Doune?” I repeated. I was racking my brain to remember where that country was located.

“It’s an island off the coast of Scotland. A tiny nation formed after the Stewarts rebelled against the king. Many were arrested and executed, but my ancestor escaped and started his own kingdom. It was far enough away that King Robert III didnae bother with them.” He said this mechanically, as if he’d had to explain where he was from many, many times.

I knew the feeling.

“I don’t know what to say,” I told him. I hadn’t misunderstood Lucia. Callum had been keeping a secret from me. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that he was royalty, too.

“You can drop the American accent,” he said. Then after a beat he asked, “You are fluent in Italian?”

“Yes.”

He seemed to realize that this meant I’d understood every “private” conversation he’d had today. He shook his head and took another step away from me. He was putting distance between us.

We’d both been lying to each other all day. But now we were being honest and could be our real selves. That seemed like a good thing to me.

But it didn’t seem like a good thing for Callum.

“I don’t understand why you’re this upset,” I said, wringing my hands. It seemed like we had both done the same thing. I knew why he’d kept it a secret. He should be the one person who got it.

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “You dinnae? I thought you were just some American girl.”

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