Her Highness, My Wife by Victoria Alexander Read Free Book Online

retainers in her wake? Bore no trappings of monarchy? I’ve never met a princess yet who wasn’t obviously a princess.”
    “And you’ve met so many.”
    “Not a one,” Ephraim said with a wicked grin. “But I have a vivid imagination.”
    Matt laughed, pleased to note he could now see humor where there had been only anger and pain
    before. Odd, how time and distance changed one’s outlook. Odder still, how long it took him to realize it. He drew on his cigar and sent a thoughtful smoke ring drifting toward the ceiling. “She told me she was a companion to a princess.”
    “Really? A princess pretending to be a commoner? In disguise, as it were?” A familiar light shone in Ephraim’s eye. “How very intriguing.”
    “I know what you’re thinking, and you can forget it right now.” Matt aimed his cigar at him. “I have no intention of contributing so much as a single word about this for that scandal sheet of yours.”
    Ephraim paid no heed. “ My Adventures with a Princess in Paris . Or better yet: A Revelation of RoyalSecrets . It’s a damn fine title for a story.”
    “This is exactly why I never told you about her.”
    “Hah.” Ephraim snorted in disbelief.
    “Very well, not exactly.” Matt shrugged in surrender. “I admit it was far more serious than any relationship I’d ever had with a woman. And frankly, it was damned painful at the end.”
    “Hence the drinking.”
    “Dulled the pain.” Matt raised his glass in a toast. “It works exceedingly well.”
    “But you have gotten over her.” Ephraim’s statement was as much question as comment.
    “Of course. She’s just another woman. No more important than any other in the scheme of the world. Oh, certainly this one could rule her own country one day—a very small country, I might add, really rather insignificant—but I didn’t know that at the time and it makes no difference now.”
    “Then you have put her in the past.”
    “Where she belongs,” Matt said firmly.
    “And it doesn’t bother you that she’s reappeared?”
    “Not in the slightest.”
    “And you no longer mind discussing her?”
    “Absolutely not.” Matt didn’t hesitate for an instant and almost believed his own words.
    “Then why not write a story for me about your affair with her?” Ephraim leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with editorial excitement. “ Passion in Paris: A Royal Rendezvous .”
    “ Passion in Paris ?” Matt grimaced. “Sounds exceedingly sordid.”
    “Doesn’t it, though? My readers will love it. Circulation will soar. There’s nothing the common man likes to read about so much as the foibles of royalty. Scandal sells papers and there’s nothing better, unless”—Ephraim straightened—“it’s a nice juicy murder. Is there any chance—”
    “Sorry, old man.” Matt laughed. “Besides, you know full well I am not fond of writing so much as a letter, let alone one of your stories.”
    “All you need to do is give me the details; I’ll do the writing.” Ephraim practically chortled with anticipation. “With my editorial flair and a bit of creative embellishment, it will be—”
    “No.” Matt’s voice was firm.
    “Why not?”
    “It doesn’t seem”—he searched for the word—“honorable, I suppose.”
    “Were her actions honorable?”
    It was an excellent question. One Matt had never especially considered and one he had no answer to now. He hadn’t understood the significance of her position before today, and it put a distinctly different light on her abandonment. “To be honest, I’m no longer certain, but it scarcely matters. It’s my honor in question at the moment, and I will not betray her trust by allowing you to make our relationship public fodder.”
    “I’ll change your names,” Ephraim said hopefully. “I’ll make it impossible for anyone to recognize you or her. It can be completely anonymous.”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “Pity.” The printer thought for a moment, obviously unwilling to give up.