The Royal Treatment: A Billionaire Prince Romance Page 5

This is exactly what I need.

  I can’t help my grin as I turn back to the bellhop. “Arigato gozaimasu,” I say as I hold out the tip for him.

  The bellhop nods and sets down my bags. As he takes the money from me, he says something to me in Japanese that I don’t catch. He bows and ushers himself out.

  Then I’m alone in this glamorous suite.

  I take out my phone and toss it onto the plush armchair in the lounge area. I’ve been sitting for way too long, so I either want to stand or lie down right now, and I know that if I lie down, I’ll fall asleep.

  So I take this moment to text James.

  Arrived at the hotel. It’s beautiful. I pause at the next sentence, my thumbs hovering over the screen, and it bothers me that I would hesitate. I gulp back the uncomfortable feeling I have and finish my message. Wish you were here.

  I hit send and let out a sigh as I see that it’s been delivered. Tokyo is sixteen hours ahead of Salem, Oregon, where James is making his rounds as the junior senator, so I doubt he’ll see it for hours yet.

  The knot in my chest loosens, just enough for me to feel like I can breathe again. It’s not like I’m cheating on James. I have no idea why I’m struggling so badly with this.

  I pull up Sachiko’s name on my contacts. Before leaving Washington, I’d emailed her to see if she would be around while I’m in Tokyo, and I received an enthusiastic reply where she said she would love to see me and to let her know when I arrived.

  So I do, now that I’m standing in my hotel room.

  I’m here! I forgot how far Narita is from the city.

  The exclamation point feels a little disingenuous, but perhaps not as I smile at the message. I do feel a bit like my old self here. I’m about to put my phone down on the coffee table so that I can shower and get ready for bed—jet lag is hitting me very hard right now—but there’s an immediate answer from Sachiko.

  What hotel are you staying in?

  It was as though she had been waiting this whole time for my message. God, I’ve missed her. I chuckle lightly as I respond: Shangri-La.

  It takes another heartbeat for her to reply back, this time in the form of a call. I nearly jump at my ringtone and answer. “Hello?”

  “You’re kidding me.” Sachiko’s lightly accented voice fills the speaker, and I laugh. “I’m so jealous that you’re at the Shangri-La.”

  “Nice to hear from you, too,” I tell her blithely. “I really just wanted a perfect escape.”

  “A perfect escape? You stay in one of Tokyo’s most prestigious hotels for an escape?”

  I shake my head, unable to keep from smiling. Sachiko worked as a diplomat in America for years and moved back to Japan for her family. We were close friends in New York, and it’s been way too long since I’ve caught up with her. I haven’t told her about my reasons why I’m here, but I’m suddenly glad that I don’t have to be here alone.

  “Do you want to come here?” I find myself asking. After everything, traveling by myself and hiding it from my fiancé, having a friend with me seems like such a relief, and I’m overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotions that take over me.

  “Yes,” she says without hesitation. “What floor are you on?”

  “The 34th. Room…” I glance at my key, “...3402.”

  “That sounds like it’s one of those fancy suites.”

  “An executive one, yes.”

  She mutters something in Japanese, and before I can ask what she means, she shifts back into English, her voice hushed and excited. “I shall be there in an hour,” Sachiko says. “Jamatane.”

  The line goes dead, and I look down at my phone. It’s early afternoon in Tokyo, which means that I may be out with Sachiko until nightfall, making for a long day when I had plans to take a nap.

  I glance at the bedroom, at the plush comforters and the soft pillows.

  Or, maybe I can sneak in a nap before she arrives.

  7

  Alexandra

  “You ate everything in the restaurant, Ferdie!”

  I chuckle in amusement as I slip my arm through Ferdie’s as we walk down the narrow streets of Tokyo. “I think they were shocked at the stack of plates they had to count for the bill.”

  Ferdie gives me sardonic expression, managing to look offended. “It just kept coming. And that was my first time at a conveyor-belt sushi restaurant.”

  “It was so good,” I sigh. “Sushi anywhere else in the world doesn’t compare to here.”

  He presses a kiss to my temple. “How about I buy you that restaurant and bring it to Dubreva?”

  I let out a chuckle, but then realize that he’s absolutely serious. Ferdie can be the most down-to-earth man anyone has ever met, and at the same time, his family wealth and privilege can be astounding. I come from money myself, but nowhere near what Ferdie has.

  I squeeze his arm. “It wouldn’t be the same. Different suppliers, different place.” I shake my head, thinking about it further. “Besides, let’s keep magic like this in Tokyo.”

  Ferdie looks down at me, his gaze intense. “Then I promise to take you here anytime you wish.”

  And I know he’s being truthful about that, too. My fiancé. The billionaire prince. The prince I fell in love with when I was a child. The prince who I know loves me back with all his heart.

  With him, I feel safe. With him, I feel like we can conquer the odds, despite our scandalous love affair. Once Dubreva gets wind of our engagement, the whole country will be thrown into a frenzy. I can even imagine what the headlines will say: TWO PRINCES FIGHT OVER DIPLOMAT’S DAUGHTER.

  Only, there has never been a fight. Phillip has no interest in me, and I think he knows that it’s because Phillip and I have loved each other for years. Queen Victoria has been the main instigator of those proclamations that Phillip and I are to be married. Even approached my father about it.

  Funny how they never asked what any of us thought about that arrangement.

  But I know we can get through it.

  Ferdie halts his leisurely gait, bringing me to a stop with him. At first, I think something is wrong, but his gaze is on a window display in front of a shop. Confused, I glance around, trying to figure out what stopped him. We’re in the Harajuku district, the fashion capital of Tokyo, and I see a funky high-end jewelry store.

  Then I see the display of rings. They’re beautiful, delicate rings, with diamonds and gemstones set in a blend of silver and gold made to look like organic wood.

  I catch my breath.

  “I still haven’t gotten you an engagement ring,” Ferdie murmurs, as if to himself.

  Hearing him say that spurs me into action. I don’t want him spending that kind of money on me. And I don’t want to take advantage of him, not when there are so many other jewels and jewelry in his family. “Oh, you don’t have to—”

  Ferdie turns to me, his gaze intense enough to make me stop my protest. He takes my hands and kisses my knuckles. “I doubt I’ll be able to give you my mother’s ring,” he tells me. “I doubt there will be a warm reception. Let me get you something that will remind you of our time here. I’ve heard of this technique before,” he adds, pointing to a beautiful engagement ring where I can see the wood-like bands of metals clearly. “This is an old Japanese metalworking practice. Called…” His voice trails off as he looks at the signs, and he grins to himself when he spots it. “Mokume-gane.” He glances back to me. “This is something special. Something that we can only get here.”

  His sincerity makes me gulp nervously. He’s right. And I’d rather have something special to us, rather than some ring that his family has simply kept out of habit.

  “All right,” I find myself saying. I go on my tiptoes and kiss his forehead. “All right.”

  He takes me into the shop, where the assistant quickly realizes that we have a lot of money, based on Ferdie’s perusal of the rings and his questions. We’re shown a generous helping of rings and styles, but there’s one that immediately catches my eye.

&nbs
p; I point to it, and the salesman hesitates, looking to Ferdie for permission.

  The prince at my side chuckles. “I love you,” he whispers in my ear, before telling the salesman to take out the ring. The assistant nods before taking out the pallet of rings and placing it on the glass cabinet.

  “Might you want to try this one?” he offers, pointing to a more ornate—and expensive—ring.

  I shake my head and point back to the ring I spotted. “This one.”

  The assistant takes the ring and hands it to me. It’s a simple ring, with a single, small diamond in the center of it. The metal band has that beautiful technique running through it before curling around the stone. It’s small, and while it is simple, it’s confident and beautiful in its simplicity.

  Ferdie catches my hands before I can slip the cool metal over my ring finger. “Allow me.”

  He slides it on, and it feels like a significant moment is passing between us, despite the salesman standing between us, looking hopeful. It feels like we’re already getting married and this is our ceremony.

  “It fits,” Ferdie says, looking down at our hands.

  “It fits perfectly,” I tell him, and I can’t even believe it. It’s as though this ring had been perfectly made for me. It’s special, symbolic of my love for Ferdie.

  Ferdie nods and turns back to the salesman. “We’ll take this one.”

  My alarm wakes me up too soon, and I groan as I reach across the bed to turn it off. Sachiko should be here soon, so I need to wake up. An hour goes by too quickly when you’re asleep and dreaming. Especially those dreams that are wonderful memories.

  I’ve been having many, many dreams of Ferdinand since my decision to go to Japan. They’re bittersweet and stir up feelings I shouldn’t be having.

  Still, though, I hold them close to my heart.

  I haven’t thought about that particular moment in a long time.

  I check my messages, and it appears that Sachiko hasn’t arrived just yet, so I force myself out of bed and trudge over to the bathroom. I look like shit, partially due to jet lag, partially due to everything that has been weighing on me.

  Rather than fuss too much, I pull my hair back and touch up my makeup before grabbing my purse and heading out the door.

  Downstairs in the lobby, I wait for Sachiko to arrive. One of the concierges stops by to see if I need anything, and I politely decline. I sigh and settle into my seat, absolutely content. For a moment, I don’t have any worries. I don’t have a past that I’m still trying to come to terms with.

  For a moment, I don’t have this ache in my heart.

  I close my eyes and relish it, and if it weren’t for the hustle and bustle of life, I could stay here forever.

  “Alexandra!”

  I look up to see a familiar face as she enters through the doors of the Shangri-La. I smile ruefully as Sachiko makes a beeline to where I’m sitting. In the years since I’ve seen her, she hasn’t changed a bit. Her clothing is big, bold colors, in square cuts that work for her tiny frame.

  She looks like a blend between a fashion model and a businesswoman. Her black hair is pulled back, and her brown eyes sparkle with intelligence.

  I rise to my feet, and she wraps me up in a hug. It feels like the first genuine hug I’ve had in a long while, from a friend rather than a political move.

  Other than James, of course.

  “It’s so good to see you, Alexandra!” she exclaims as she embraces me. “So good. It’s been too long.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Sachiko,” I murmur.

  She pulls me back and looks up into my eyes. “You look tired,” she says. “Or sad. And it’s not just the flight.” She cocks her head, scrutinizing me. “What happened with you?”

  I chuckle. “I’m all right, Sachiko.” I step back to get a better look at my friend. “It looks like life has been treating you wonderfully.”

  She grins. In fact, she's glowing, and I see why. She holds her hand up, a sparkling rock on it. "I am getting married soon!"

  The lump forms in the back of my throat, yet I still manage a smile. "That's wonderful. I just got engaged myself."

  "What? Let me see!" Before I can even bring up my own ring finger, she's peering down at the diamond that James gave me. My second engagement ring. The last one, I remind myself. She looks up and meets my eyes, a mischievous glint in her gaze. "You shall have to tell me about your husband-to-be. He seems like he loves you very much. If your ring is any indication."

  And I love him very much, I think to myself as I nod, and I realize that it's true. James does love me very much. I'm not sure I deserve him.

  "Well," I say slowly, gathering my thoughts, "he's a senator—"

  "Ah, yes!" Sachiko exclaims as she sits down in the chair opposite mine in the lobby, and she clasps her hands over her handbag in her lap. "I remember reading something about a very young and good-looking senator dating a Swedish diplomat."

  I raise an amused eyebrow. "That made its way over here?" I mean, certain tabloids in America picked up our story and published it, and James has to deal with paparazzi. Many questions seem to be more interested in his love life than his politics, so he always deftly brings it back to the topic at hand. But I never would have thought Japanese audiences would care about it.

  Sachiko laughs softly. "The latest pop idol in Japan has a steady girlfriend, so the news is starving for anything to gossip about." She rolls her eyes dramatically. "I’ve also made a habit of following key players in American politics. You're lucky—I've seen pictures of him. He looks both handsome and smart."

  "And in that order, too?"

  She playfully harrumphs and crosses her arms. "So, tell me more."

  I shrug nonchalantly. "It only happened just last week, so there's not a whole lot in the way of talking about my wedding just yet."

  She looks around, as if searching for someone. "Why isn't your husband-to-be here with you in Japan?"

  I wondered how long it would be before someone asked me that. I placed my hand over hers, and that causes her to look back at me, almost in bewilderment. "He has work to do back in his home state, and I wanted a trip just by myself. Before I get married."

  "Ah, I see." She gives a definitive nod. "You wanted time to yourself."

  "I've been to Tokyo before," I remind her. "I just wanted to be back to see everything again." I lean forward conspiratorially, hoping for the chance to change the subject. "But you—you will have to tell me everything that you have planned for your wedding. You didn't tell me! When is it?"

  Based on Sachiko's grin, I know that I wouldn't have to push her to elaborate more. And, perhaps, seeing someone happy about her own future will make me optimistic about mine.

  And that's one thing I've forgotten about Sachiko: she can talk. Her own fiancé is an investment broker, and he sounds like a rich man in his own right. And her wedding sounds like it will be a huge occasion for their families. Her energy and enthusiasm should make me feel exhausted, especially after being on the plane for thirteen hours, but I find myself being more and more energized.

  "I've never been to a Japanese wedding," I murmur, thinking about it. Growing up in an international household and constantly moving throughout my childhood meant that I had been exposed to many different cultures and customs throughout my life. I've been to a Pakistani wedding, a wedding that was styled like Lord of the Rings, and many, many others.

  But nothing like a Japanese wedding. For a moment, I wonder if Ferdie and I had gotten married if we would have had the ceremony in Japan. After all, we got engaged here.

  "They are beautiful," Sachiko says, breaking into my thoughts. "A perfect blend of old Japan and new. That's what I'm going for with my wedding, at least."

  I smile. "It sounds lovely."

  "Oh, you must come!" she exclaims, putting her hand over mine. "Think of this as your official invite, Alexandra-chan."

  She called me chan. Friend.

  I fight back a sudden onslaught of tear
s, wondering where they came from. "Perhaps," I say, not committing to it, although I would love to go to her wedding.

  She catches my hesitation, though, and gets to her feet. "Come," she says. "Let's do an early dinner, and then I will take you to Zojoji Temple."

  I look up at her, confused. "What's at Zojoji temple?"

  She winks at me. "That is where I am getting married. You just have to see it."

  8

  Alexandra

  "I swear," I tell Sachiko as we stroll through the streets of Tokyo, "food tastes better here than it does in America."

  Sachiko chortles. "That’s simply because you're on holiday."

  "But that was the best ramen I've ever had," I tell her. "And so cheap too." My huge bowl only cost me about 600 yen.

  She laughs. "And that is because you are in Japan," she tells me. "Of course the ramen is best here."

  I think back to all of the restaurants I've been to in New York City and in London, where the chefs claimed that their recipes and their traditions rivaled that of Japan, with a higher price tag and a disappointing dish. Nothing ever came close to the delicious meal Sachiko and I just had. My eyes flutter closed, even just thinking about it.

  "That was wonderful," I tell her. "Thank you. I didn't know that ramen could be so...divine."

  Sachiko chortles even harder now. "Well, if I were to base Swedish food off the Swedish meatballs I got at Ikea, I would hope for better meatballs in your country, I think."

  "My mother tried to teach me how to cook," I say. "Before she died, she tried passing on her family recipes, and I just could never get the hang of cooking." And not that I ever needed to learn how to cook growing up. As ambassador to Dubreva, my father had a cook in our home, and I could order whatever I wanted.

  All that changed after I broke things off with Ferdie and moved to America. It forced me to realize how people have to live and take care of things themselves. I had to learn how to cook, clean, do my laundry, clean out the toilets, and make a budget for myself. Because living in New York City on a much smaller salary really opened my eyes to how the vast majority of the world lived.