But how could he get in touch when the press was staking out her flat? She had a mental image of the prince hiding behind a bush, waiting for the opportunity to bang on her door. "Do you think he's really annoyed about the headlines?"
"Don't tell me you're worrying about him!" Nicky had her hand in a packet of cereal. "He just pulls up his bloody drawbridge, leaving the enemy on the outside!"
Holly bit her lip. She was the one who'd kissed him by the window. She'd had no idea. "I feel guilty."
"Oh, please! This is Prince Casper we're talking about. He doesn't care what the newspapers write about him. You're the one who's going to suffer. If you ask me, the least he could have done was give you some security or advice. But he's left you to take the flak!"
Holly's spirits sank further at that depressing analysis. "He doesn't know where I am."