The Princess and the Pauper Read online

  By

  Nancy Bush

  Published by Nancy Bush

  Visit Nancy Bush’s official website at

  www.nancybush.net

  for the latest news, book details, and other information

  Copyright © Nancy Bush, 1989

  Cover by Extended Imagery

  e-book formatting by Guido Henkel

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Author’s Note

  I’ve written in a lot of different genres over the years — young adult, historical romance, mystery, suspense, and romance – and my favorite books, the ones that still resonate with me long after they were published, come from everywhere. Whenever I think of my romance novels, however, THE PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER is the book that springs to mind first. I loved the characters, and the ‘two worlds colliding’ plot.

  I hope you enjoy it, too.

  Nancy Bush

  Prologue

  March 17th…

  She was certain her eyes were playing tricks on her – until he turned her way: dark blond hair, golden eyes, sober expression…

  April stopped dead in her tracks. The man staring at her with undisguised surprise was Jesse Cawthorne himself.

  “Hello, Princess,” he drawled.

  She felt that same roaring in her ears, that same heart-stopping fear. She couldn’t find her voice. She could only stare at him, shocked, utterly stupefied. What struck her the most was how little he’d changed. Time had literally stood still for him. He wore disreputable jeans, black boots and a black motorcycle jacket; a black t-shirt was stretched taut across his lean stomach. His hair was long, and a three-day growth of beard covered his hard jaw. He looked tough and smart and mean. Had she not known him, she might have been frightened. As it was, she was simply dumbstruck.

  He regarded her stonily. Neither he nor she moved one iota closer.

  April did a quick mental calculation and decided he must be around thirty-five. What in the world had he been doing with his life?

  “You—you—haven’t changed,” she managed to choke out the words.

  Jesse glanced at the security guard employed by Hollis’s department store. “I suppose that’s debatable,” he said. “Are you working here now?”

  April nodded jerkily. “I’m the store manager.”

  “And my brother works for you?” He obviously found that impossible to believe.

  “Yes.”

  “Will wonders never cease?”

  His mouth curved into the sardonic smile of April’s dreams. Memories crowded into her head. She could feel his smooth skin, his hard, blood-stirring kisses — and the terrible yearning that had enslaved her that long-ago summer. Tears built behind her eyes, blurring her vision. Her lungs filled to bursting.

  She turned on her heel, intending to run, but his hand caught her gently by the upper arm. “Don’t,” he commanded quietly.

  April wanted to pry his fingers from her arm, hating the spreading heat that enveloped her.

  “I need to talk to you.” His voice was as smooth as brandy. She’d forgotten its persuasive quality.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “Give me five minutes. Please.”

  Slowly she turned her head to meet his gaze. Something shimmered in those golden eyes, something needy and dangerous. She didn’t want to talk to him. They shared a history that had nearly destroyed her life.

  As if from a great distance she heard herself say, “Five minutes.”

  Chapter One

  PART I: ONCE UPON A TIME…

  A mirrored globe spun lazily overhead, scattering flickering squares of light over Rock Springs High’s gymnasium. The band, a ragtag group arranged against the back wall, limped through several popular ballads. April Hollis sighed and moved softly to and fro, careful not to step on Lance’s polished shoes.

  “Sorry,” he apologized as he accomplished what she’d been trying to avoid, and crushed her peep-toe shoes.

  “I think I’ll survive.” April smiled up at him. She really cared about Lance. He made her laugh. There were even times, like tonight, when she felt something more for him. She thought about being alone with him later, and wondered if she should relent a little, not be the “iciest prude in the entire senior class.”

  Over Lance’s shoulder April spied the dais strewn with white and gold crêpe paper, where soon another Pink Carnation Ball Queen would be crowned. A thrill of excitement traveled up her spine – excitement tinged with fear. She was one of the finalists; the announcement had come through last Friday amid squeals of disbelief from April and her best friend, Carrie Forrester. Unlike the optimistic Carrie, however, April knew she didn’t stand a chance of becoming queen. That honor would be bestowed upon Tasha Bennington, who, with the confidence and momentum of a supreme conqueror, had swept up every high school debutante title so far – Homecoming Queen two years in a row, Senior Girl of the Year, Prom Queen, Girl Most Likely to Succeed, Miss Congeniality.

  April thought she might be physically sick if Tasha won again, yet knew in her heart it was bound to happen.

  “Pssst,” a voice said from behind her while a finger poked her shoulder.

  It was Carrie, and April’s brows rose as she twisted around to face her friend. “No dance partner?” she asked.

  “Phillip’s busy.” Carrie waved vaguely in the direction of the exit door, where Phillip was talking to a group of his friends. “Did you about Jordan? He spiked the punch. There’s about a gallon of vodka in with the 7-Up and cranberry juice.”

  April glanced at the refreshment table. Jordan Taylor was standing by the huge plastic bowl of punch, magnanimously ladling cups for all the students and a few members of the faculty. April drew in a breath and shook her head. “If that guy makes it through graduation, it’ll be a miracle.”

  “He’s already made it,” Lance interjected. “All major tests are over. We’ve got another couple of weeks, and then we’re outta here.”

  “Want some punch?” Carrie asked innocently, a smile sneaking around the corners of her mouth.

  “Thanks, but I’m trying to quit,” April said.

  Carrie laughed, but Lance said, “I’ll have some,” surprising both girls. Lance, Mr. High School All-American, had never done anything to jeopardize his chance for a sports scholarship. Throughout his four years at Rock Springs High he’d studiously avoided even the merest hint of impropriety. Now April and Carrie’s eyes met in silent wonder.

  “I’ll be right back,” Carrie said, and dashed off in a swirl of yellow fabric to the brimming red bowl.

  Lance suddenly bent April over his arm in a move that had her fingers scrambling on the sleeve of his jacket for a hold. “It’s time to live it up a little, don’t you think?” he murmured suggestively.

  “Lance, don’t you dare drop me!” April’s mane of black hair was already sweeping the floor.

  “I won’t drop you. I’m trying to be more…” He searched for the right word.

  “Amorous?” April clung to him for her very life. A few more inches and her ivory silk dress would be smeared with dirt and dust.

  “Yeah, amorous.” He grinned, his handsome face looking even more appealing. With an elegance she hadn’t thought him capable of, he suddenly brought her upright, then
lightly touched the crown of white orchids she’d pinned into her hair. “Everything’s still in place,” he said softly.

  April could feel the perspiration forming around her neck and between her breasts, and with a wry, “It had better be,” she headed for the girls’ powder room. The gymnasium was far too hot, and Lance’s unconventional action had turned her already nervous stomach into a quivering mass of jelly.

  If I don’t win, it won’t matter, she told her reflection as she dabbed a damp paper towel on the smooth skin above her daring, deep v-neckline. More of her breasts were revealed that she would have liked, but she loved the dress. Just loved it!

  Drawing a deep breath, April eyed the swelling mounds critically. Sexy but demure, she decided, tamping down a fresh attack of butterflies. She looked as good as was humanly possible. Too bad the nose was so pugged, the mouth a shade too wide, the eyes so large and serious. Why couldn’t she have that perpetual glint of mischief she’d witnessed so often in Tasha’s dark gaze? Where was the smile that teased and promised around the edges of her lips?

  April leaned closer to the mirror. Okay, her lashes were long and sooty, thanks to MAC, and her eyes were an unusually luminous shade of aquamarine. But somehow the whole picture was missing something. Something indefinable that could make Tasha Bennington the Pink Carnation Ball Queen, while April Hollis never got past vice president of the student council.

  “Hi, April,” Tasha’s cheery voice rang out.

  April started as the bathroom door swung closed and Tasha rustled up to the counter beside her, her pink satin gown lavished with bows and ruffles. Pulling out a tube of gloss, Tasha delicately added a pale rose gloss to her mouth. She pursed her lips and turned her head from side to side as she checked her flaws.

  “They’re about to crown the queen,” Tasha said. She flashed April a smile, but in her eyes was the reserve April had come to expect whenever Tasha dealt with her. Or did Tasha instinctively mistrust all women?

  “Are they?” asked April. She pulled out her own lipstick, a soft peach color.

  “In about five minutes. Good luck…” She sailed out in a cloud of Chanel.

  April’s grip on the lipstick tube revealed more about her feelings than she wanted to admit, even to herself. Her hand shook as she applied another layer of color, and she inwardly cursed herself. It wasn’t that important to be queen. She shouldn’t want it this badly.

  Two minutes later she was stepping onto the dais, her hand in the grip of the senior class president. Catcalls and whistles surrounded her, as they had Tasha and Kristy Kramer as each, in turn, had ascended the platform stairs.

  “As you all know,” the class president intoned with mock gravity, “the votes for Pink Carnation Ball Queen were cast last Friday. All we need to do now is crown the winner.”

  “Tasha, Tasha!” Jordan Taylor started to chant and most of the crowd joined in. The class president held up his hands as the microphone let out an earsplitting screech.

  April flinched and swallowed. Her throat was dry.

  “I’ve got the envelope,” the class president said, waving it in the air. A moment later he tore open the seal. “This year’s Pink Carnation Ball Queen is… Tasha Bennington!”

  Tasha squealed and burst into tears. Pandemonium ensued. Everyone shouted at once. The class president placed a dozen pink carnations in her hands. Through a haze of disappointment April saw Kristy hug Tasha and offer congratulations. On wooden legs April walked over to do the same. But she couldn’t embrace her. She just clasped the other girl’s limp hand and murmured, “Congratulations.”

  Tasha wasn’t listening. She practically flew down the stairs into her boyfriend’s waiting arms. Then she started kissing everyone around her, stopping every few seconds the gasp, “I can’t believe it! I just can’t believe it!”

  April walked carefully down the stairs to stand by Lance’s side. She hoped she was still smiling. It felt like it, but she wasn’t sure. Though she was normally a gracious loser, this last defeat really hurt.

  Tasha’s tears had mysteriously dried up. Now her eyes were bright and starstruck, her lips softly parted. Suddenly she twirled and stood directly in front of April and Lance. She tossed the carnations skyward and flung her arms around his neck. “Kiss me, you fool!” she exclaimed, and to April’s amazement and mortification, Lance bent his head without hesitation.

  The kiss was brief, more like a loud smack between friends, but to April it lasted an eternity. When it was over Lance’s cheeks were flushed, and Tasha’s tinkling laughter fell over the room like a pall. At least that was how April saw it. No one else seemed to notice – except Tasha’s boyfriend, Spencer Tamblin.

  The band struck up another squeaky love song, and Tasha and Spencer began swaying to the beat in the center of the room. Spencer’s face was dark with fury, and April struggled to remain composed as Lance led her forward and swept her into the security of his arms. Inside, jealousy and envy ran like green poison through her veins, and she had to keep reminding herself that she was too smart to feel such infantile emotions.

  “Everybody’s meeting at Three Bears later,” Phillip Walker said to Lance as he and Carrie moved in beside them. “This has gotten boring.”

  April couldn’t agree more, but the last thing she wanted to do was to go to Three Bears, the bend in the Rock Springs River where kids collected to drink beer and generally raise hell. She felt too restless and let down, and she just wanted to be alone with Lance. His “We’ll be there,” took her by surprise, and she clenched her fists in frustration.

  “Are you crazy?” April exclaimed as soon as they were out of earshot. “If we get caught up there, we’ll be in big trouble.”

  “Jesus, April, grow up. It’s nearly graduation. We won’t stay long.”

  She was speechless. She’d always been the daring one, the one who’d sneak past her parents’ bedroom door when she came in a few minutes too late, the one who’d suggested the senior class organize an unauthorized senior skip day, the one who first dared to say “I love you” even when she wasn’t completely sure. Lance had always lacked that kind of initiative.

  She worried about the direction of his thoughts. “My father will kill me if he finds out I was at Three Bears.”

  “So he won’t find out, will he?”

  With that, Lance dragged her off to the reception table, poured them both a glass of punch and pointedly avoided any further conversation. April held the plastic cup in a death grip, her gaze on Tasha and Spencer. She couldn’t wait to graduate and leave Rock Springs. She wouldn’t even glance back on her way out.

  A sudden commotion near the main doors brought her back to the present. Jordan Taylor was being escorted from the gym by the collar of his suit coat. One of the counselors was so livid that his face was flushed a deep, furious scarlet. April’s lips twitched in spite of herself. At least Jordan had guts.

  Twenty minutes later she was sitting next to Lance in the front seat of his black Range Rover, glad for the comfort of just being alone and the familiar feel of his arm draped loosely over her shoulder. Yet the way his fingers stroked her bare arm bothered her. Was she ready for something more intimate? She wasn’t certain.

  “How much farther is it?” April asked, peering through the windshield. Except for the red taillights winking ahead of them, leading the way, the country road that wound its way along the cliffs above the river was dark and lonely.

  “A few miles.”

  “Are we going to stay long?”

  “Not if you don’t want to.” He slid her a look.

  April hadn’t misinterpreted his signals. Her throat felt dry and it was difficult to swallow. So this was it. The make-it or break-it test. But did she want to make love with Lance? Her heart pounded heavily at the thought, partly from fear, partly from excitement. She just didn’t know.

  Glancing out the window, she changed the subject. “This night hasn’t really gone like I expected.”

  Silence stretched between them. A
pril sneaked a glance at Lance’s profile, and her heart flipped over. His brow was furrowed, his expression dark.

  “You mean because you didn’t get to be queen?” he asked slowly.

  It sounded so silly that April half-laughed. “Well, that was part of it,” she said lamely.

  “April, Tasha was really happy she got to be queen. She’s not as lucky as you and I are.”

  “What do you mean?” asked April, but she already sensed where Lance was headed and it made her pulse start to pound with resentment.

  “Oh, you know.” He shrugged dismissively. “Your dad owns Hollis’s, and it’s a bigstore, for Christ’s sake. Competes with Macy’s and Nordstrom’s. Man, that’s epic. You’ve got everything money can buy, and you and I both live in Windsor Estates.”

  “Tasha lives in Windsor Estates, too.”

  “Yeah, but for how long? Her parents are divorced and it’s a big mess. Her dad and mom are always fighting over everything. I just thought maybe she deserved to be queen a little more than you do, that’s all. It’ll mean more to her.”

  Of all the things he could have said, this was the worst. Disappointment swelled upward, lodging in her throat. With supreme casualness she edged slightly away from him, smoothing her skirt. One of Lance’s most endearing qualities had been his ability to understand her. He’d always sensed how important it was for her to make her own way, to have something for herself, something of her own making. Now his reaction took her breath away.

  “My dad’s got his own business here in Rock Springs, too,” he went on, oblivious to her withdrawal, “but right now Tasha’s living with her mom. Her dad just sends money and there’s never enough.”

  “I know,” April murmured.

  “It’s just that when you have so much, it doesn’t hardly seems fair.” He cleared his throat, darting her a sheepish look. “Forget it. Let’s just have a good time.” He squeezed her shoulder affectionately, but April felt as if she were made of ice – much more pressure and she would shatter.