Exclusive!: Hollywood Life or Royal Wife? / Marriage Scandal, Showbiz Baby! / Sex, Lies and a Security Tape. Jackie Braun
Don’t all movie stars crave the limelight?’ He regarded her critically from under dark brows.
‘Not me,’ she replied with a half-smile, crossing her arms and staring out across the Croisette and the twinkling lights of the yachts beyond.
‘Victoria?’ Anne’s voice at the French window made her turn around. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt,’ she said apologetically, smiling at the Prince, ‘but that top Paris magazine I told you about wants to interview you.’
‘Now?’ Victoria grimaced.
‘Right away, I’m afraid. It was the only available time.’ Anne flashed a quick smile at Rodolfo.
‘Okay. I guess I don’t have a choice. Goodnight,’ Victoria said, stretching her hand out towards the Prince.
‘Goodnight.’ He raised her fingers to his lips. ‘And, please, don’t forget your promise.’ Their eyes met, his full of laughter and challenge, hers tentative.
‘Right,’ Victoria mumbled, aware of Anne’s interested eyes upon her.
Seconds later the actress and the agent were hurrying down the corridor back to Victoria’s suite for the interview.
‘What was that all about?’ Anne enquired. ‘What did you promise? I hope it wasn’t a press interview, because I gave exclusive rights to the Parisian Magazine. You can’t negotiate these things on your own, you know, and—’
‘Oh, do stop it, Anne. Don’t you ever think of anything but business?’ Victoria complained, exasperated. ‘He only asked me to get in touch with him if I ever went to that wretched island of his. And, since you’re so keen for me to move there, I should have thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Oh. Okay,’ Anne muttered, taken aback. The Prince wanted to see Vic again. That could be great PR. Better not discourage her. On the contrary, the more she thought about it the more the idea appealed. By the time they’d reached the suite door she was forming a plan. ‘Right, you go ahead, and I’ll tell them you’re ready.’
‘Just a sec,’ Victoria said, feeling the capsule in her pocket. ‘I need to go to the loo.’
‘Okay, but don’t be long. They’re waiting, and we’re running late.’
Feeling like a prisoner, Victoria slipped into the marble bathroom. It was empty, and she leaned a moment against the sink and took a deep breath. How long would all this socialising go on? Why couldn’t she just get on with the next film instead of having to go through all this agony?
But there was no way out.
Taking out the pill, she popped it in her mouth and drank a glass of water, then closed her eyes and waited for it to take effect. Ah! There. A minute or two later she raised her head, dragged her fingers through her hair, checked her lipgloss and braced herself. It was show-time once more. Still, as she stepped out of the bathroom and headed for the salon where the interview was to take place, a vision of the Prince flashed before her. She’d felt strangely reassured in his company.
AFTER VICTORIA HAD DEPARTED, Rodolfo stood for a few more minutes on the terrace, contemplating the night. In the background he heard the buzz of the party, the music, the laughter, the exaggerated exclamations and the smooth conversation. He had no desire to return inside. Something about Victoria had left him thoughtful, intrigued. Not just her ethereal beauty, which was without a doubt staggering, but the natural way in which she responded. There was no artifice in her manner, no guile. It was deliciously refreshing.
He must make a point of seeing her movie. Was she as good as was being made out? Perhaps. There was definitely something special about her. He thought of her now, upstairs, answering a battery of questions from journalists, and wished he could have helped prevent it, detained her longer.
Then, all at once, he caught his breath as finally his memory jolted and he remembered who she reminded him of. How could he have forgotten or even hesitated? How had he not caught the likeness at once?
As Giada’s face materialised before him he closed his eyes. When would it ever fade? Seven years had passed, and he’d had so many women since. But Giada’s image and all she’d represented in his life remained firmly imprinted in his mind. And tonight, for the first time, he’d met someone who reminded him of her as never before.
Banishing the memory and turning on his heel, the Prince quickly reminded himself why he was there and returned to the ballroom, where he was immediately accosted by a fat lady who glittered with jewels and who owned a huge fortune in oil. She was interested in learning more about Malvarina.
Rodolfo replied politely, but recalled Victoria’s words. Was he turning the principality into a theme park for the nouveau riche? He had wanted to preserve it as naturally and beautifully as possible. He needed to think about this initiative further.
After being buttonholed for twenty minutes he managed to make his escape and make his way upstairs. For a moment he hesitated, thought of phoning Victoria and seeing if she would like to have a drink with him. Then, realising she was probably exhausted, with a gruelling day ahead of her tomorrow, he decided against it and went to his suite.
SHE’D WON. BEST ACTRESS.
As she stood on the stage the following evening, receiving the trophy, Victoria was overwhelmed. She had made it, was being given one of the most prestigious prizes in film. Everyone was clapping, encouraging her, and tonight she felt good. This was recognition of her acting skills, not her beauty or her charisma, just her work. And for that she was grateful.
After a short speech she sat down next to Ed, who hugged her, while Anne glowed with pride on her other side. She knew she owed them a lot—everything, in a way. Had it not been for them, their patience and knowing how to get the best out of her as an actress, this would never have happened. But there was still all the press to face—more interviews, more emotion, another exhausting evening of being on show. And tonight she’d left her pills behind in the bathroom, hadn’t slipped one into her pocket as she normally did.
Never mind, she assured herself. Tonight was different. She would make it through the evening without mishap.
As they filed out of the theatre where the award ceremony was taking place, Victoria caught sight of Rodolfo in the distance. Across the crowd their eyes met and he smiled. For a moment she wished she could go to him, spend the rest of the evening in some quiet spot chatting. All at once she remembered his mention that he liked to cook. A vision of him tossing pasta in the kitchen of his own castle surfaced and made her want to laugh. But as she smiled back at him a flash went off in her face, reminding her of exactly where she was.
SHE CERTAINLY HAD tremendous talent, Rodolfo realised, watching Victoria move through the hall surrounded by paparazzi and moguls. He had seen her movie earlier that day and had come out impressed. There was something magical in her performance, something that reminded him of a young Audrey Hepburn in the way she floated across the screen—an ethereal quality coupled with a shining talent. Yet there was a vital and deeply emotional side to her that became apparent in her performance, and that had gripped him, stirred something deep within.
He glanced at his watch. The party would go on for a while yet. He was planning to leave tomorrow and return to Malvarina, but something made him hesitate. Perhaps he would wait and see if an opportunity to lunch with Victoria presented itself. He would really like to see her again before he departed.
SHE KNEW THAT if she was going to make it through the rest of the evening she simply had to disappear upstairs and take another capsule. She seemed to have increased the amount over the last few days. But that was okay. It was just for now. When she got home she would stop taking them completely. She glanced about her. She had to go, even if that meant displeasing Anne and the others.
Slipping away unseen, she dashed to the lift and rode it up to her floor. Then she hastened down the corridor and inserted the key in the