Free A Princess Next Door (Rothman Royals Book 1) by Noelle Adams

this time. I wasn’t going to
get scared and change my mind. But a flash came from beside us that broke into
my stilted announcement.
    Both of us looked in surprise at the photographer who stood
a few feet away, taking our picture. Another photographer was approaching too,
also taking photos of me and Jack.
    It was the most unexpected thing, and the mingling students
and faculty around us, who’d left the art exhibit like us, were all now staring
in our direction.
    “What the hell?” Jack muttered, scowling at the photographers.
He took a step forward, clearly intimidating.
    I grabbed for his hand, suddenly terrified. I knew why they
were taking my picture, although I had no idea how they’d happened to stumble
upon me like this. “Jack, no. Let’s just get out of here.”
    Jack’s face was twisted with annoyance, outrage, and
questions that hadn’t yet been asked. But he put his arm around me and started
to walk.
    Before we’d taken two steps, Hans was there, my bodyguard
always lurking in the background. He held the photographers back as Jack
hurried me down the block to where he’d parked.
    The photographers followed, trying to get past Hans.
    It wasn’t anything like the swarm of paparazzi that follows
real celebrities, but it was definitely out of place on campus, and it made us the
center of attention in a way that caused my belly to sink in dread.
    Jack eyed me silently when he turned the car on, but he
didn’t waste time in conversation. He pulled away from the curb, and I was so
upset and disoriented that I pulled out my phone and dialed Victoria. When she
didn’t answer, I called Henry instead.
    There had to be a reason those photographers had known who I
was and cared enough to take pictures. My brother or sisters would know.
    “Do you know what’s going on?” I asked, when Henry picked up
on the third ring.
    My brother wasn’t a big talker, and he didn’t ask for
further information. “What do you think? Mother’s been plotting again.”
    I almost choked on the knowledge, although in the back of my
mind I’d known it couldn’t be anything else. Of course, my mother had done
this. “But she was always so careful about our privacy. She wouldn’t want this.”
    “Not unless it helps to get you back home.”
    “I can’t believe she wants me chased by the paparazzi.”
    “She doesn’t. She just doesn’t want you anonymous there any
longer.”
    I felt sick and hurt and angry and terrified by what Jack
was going to say, when we finally had a chance to talk.
    “Was it bad?” Henry asked, in a different tone.
    “It wasn’t good. I guess it could have been worse.”
    “You’re still visiting next week, aren’t you?”
    “I think so. I’ll see you then.”
    When we’d hung up, I sat in silence, trying to find words to
explain this to Jack. He obviously wasn’t going to press the issue until we
were out of the car, and he didn’t speak as he drove back to our building,
which was just a mile or so away. When we turned onto our street, I saw a
couple more photographers, waiting at the front of our building.
    “Damn it,” he muttered darkly.
    “Hopefully they can’t get inside.” My voice wobbled, but it
felt like my whole world was falling apart. Jack hadn’t demanded answers yet,
but he would. I knew he would.
    And then he’d feel betrayed because I hadn’t told him
before.
    Everything was ruined—even the final weeks I would have had
with him.
    “Do you want to go to a hotel for the night?” Jack asked,
before he turned the car into the parking deck. “That way, they won’t be
hovering around.”
    “Yes. Yes, please.” The anonymity of a hotel sounded like a
dream at the moment. It would be safe, cut off from everything else.
    Jack drove a few blocks to a discreet, expensive hotel, and
in a few minutes we were checked in and heading up to a room. We didn’t have
any luggage, but the staff hadn’t mentioned it or acted like it was strange. I
noticed Hans had followed