The Prince's Bride
Lisa Kaye Laurel
ROYAL WEDDINGSROYAL WEDDINGS. Three small-town women find happily-ever-after with three irresistible princes!THE PRINCE MUST MARRY!The ball had begun, the prince had arrived, and everyone wondered who would be his new bride….Everyone except Julie Britton. The pretty castle caretaker knew she wasn't it. Despite the fact that she'd loved him, all those years ago….Then the clock struck midnight, and the guests held their breath. The king was awaiting an announcement, and the bride was nowhere in sight!So Julie did what any devoted employee would do. She stepped up to the hard-hearted, but oh-so-handsome prince, and offered him herself….
Table of Contents
Cover Page (#u13e9157b-ccee-562a-bebe-55f621339334)
Title Page (#ucea7a2f0-d183-54a0-b36e-57685795e06e)
Excerpt (#u3a498202-983d-5028-8a94-ccd691eba511)
Dear Reader (#u27137fa1-cc42-5ab7-9203-df18379ba8ad)
Dedication (#uf28eb204-f6e4-5087-8267-7528150bbb55)
About the Author (#uf4fa3c75-dd3e-5df1-8359-7aa4bdeffbb9)
Prologue (#u01153878-5757-53db-83e2-12d5883e654c)
Chapter One (#u71e00e9f-2a21-5c11-82d8-35749a982e86)
Chapter Two (#u4c563ca1-71df-57f8-accb-e2aa789034d6)
Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
The Prince’s Bride
Lisa Kaye Laurel
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“It is a great honor to present you my betrothed, Miss Julie Britton,”
Prince Erik announced.
An expectant hush spread over the crowded ballroom.
Erik looked down at Julie. “What are they waiting for?” he asked softly.
She gave him a smile so sweet, it made something in him ache. “I think they’re waiting for us to seal the deal,” she said, almost apologetically. “With a kiss.”
A kiss. He gathered her into his arms. Slowly she leaned toward him, her lips hovering just below his.
Erik covered her mouth with his and became lost in the reality of a kiss as sweet and warm as new honey.
He took a step back. The applause rose to a thunderous pitch, filling the massive room from wall to wall.
It was over. The crowd believed. Erik’s duty to the king was done.
But his engagement to Julie was just beginning…
Dear Reader (#ulink_68395eef-5cdf-5b07-8854-b20d28bf9ae7),
This month, Silhouette Romance has six irresistible, emotional and heartwarming love stories for you, starting with our FABULOUS FATHERS title, Wanted: One Son by Laurie Paige. Deputy sheriff Nick Dorelli had watched the woman he loved marry another and have that man’s child. But now, mother and child need Nick. Next is The Bride Price by bestselling author Suzanne Carey. Kyra Martin has fuzzy memories of having just married her Navajo ex-fiancé in a traditional wedding ceremony. And when she discovers she’s expecting his child, she knows her dream was not only real…but had mysteriously come true! We also have two not-to-be missed new miniseries starting this month, beginning with Miss Prim’s Untamable Cowboy, book 1 of THE BRUBAKER BRIDES by Carolyn Zane. A prim image consultant tries to tame a very masculine working-class wrangler into the true Texas millionaire tycoon he really is. Good luck, Miss Prim!
In Only Bachelors Need Apply by Charlotte Maclay, a man-shy woman’s handsome new neighbor has some secrets that will make her the happiest woman in the world, and in The Tycoon and the Townie by Elizabeth Lane, a struggling waitress from the wrong side of the tracks is romanced by a handsome, wealthy bachelor. Finally, our other new miniseries, ROYAL WEDDINGS by Lisa Kaye Laurel. The lovely caretaker of a royal castle finds herself a prince’s bride-to-be during a ball…with high hopes for happily ever after in The Prince’s Bride.
I hope you enjoy all six of Silhouette Romance’s terrific novels this month…and every month.
Regards,
Melissa Senate,
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie; Ont. L2A 5X3
For my wonderful parents, who have always believed in me.
LISA KAYE LAUREL
has worked in a number of fields, but says that nothing she’s done compares to the challenges—and rewards—of being a full-time mom. Her extra energy is channeled into creating stories. She counts writing high on her list of blessings, which is topped by the love and support of her husband, her son, her daughter, her mother and her father.
Prologue (#ulink_075b0947-2caa-5d61-b289-72df14a78584)
Julie entered the castle door and found herself in the middle of a fairy tale.
She looked around, enraptured. Everything was just as she had pictured it would be when she had dreamed of dressing up and going to a royal ball at the Anders Point castle. But this was no dream. She was really here, literally rubbing elbows in the entry hall with some of the most famous and influential people in the world. It struck her that tonight, these were her peers. Though she was sixteen years old and granddaughter of the castle caretaker, she was an invited guest at the royal ball, the same as they were. Handing her wrap to an attendant, she cast a nervous glance at the mirror that hung on the wall. An attractive young woman dressed in an elegant long gown looked back at her, and Julie’s first thought was, I’d like to befriends with her. Her second, which came with a shock, was, I am that woman!
Following the crowd, she took her place in the receiving line. King Ivar, who had known her from the cradle, gave her a look of approval as he took her hand. Then she was on her own. She found a place to stand at one side of the ballroom, drawing herself up straight and trying to feel as poised on the inside as the mirror had told her she looked on the outside. She had no thought of being the belle of the ball. Even to turn one head was too much to hope for. Just being there in the room with him was enough.
After all, every good fairy tale has a handsome prince, and Julie’s was no exception. One glimpse of him from across the crowded ballroom kicked off a frantic fluttering in her chest. She still wasn’t used to the strange and wondrous feeling she got whenever she was near Prince Erik. His very presence was magnetic. Her eyes simply couldn’t look away from him; her ears strained for the sound of his voice; her skin tingled at the thought of his touch; and something inside her felt helplessly drawn toward him, as if caught by the mysterious pull of a current in the ocean. She had no idea how long she stood there, wholly absorbed in watching his fluid movements as he danced partner after partner around the floor. She rejoiced that it was his duty to dance with the most prominent of his father’s guests, because it kept him within sight on the ballroom floor. He didn’t notice her standing there, drinking him in with her eyes. But then, there was no reason that he should.
Near the end of a song, someone jostled into Julie, and she stepped on the hem of her gown. That brought her out of her fog. She pushed the long folds of her dress out behind her, looking over her shoulder to make sure nothing had torn. Assured that all was well, she turned back around, her gaze finding Prince Erik like the needle of a compass finds north.
He was looking at her. When their eyes met, it was like a physical touch. Julie’s heart thumped so hard it hurt. She tried to take a breath but her lungs seemed frozen. Time ceased as he made his way through the crowd, never taking his eyes from her. When at last he reached her, he bowed formally.
Hours of practice in front of her bedroom mirror had paid off, and Julie executed a perfect curtsy even with jelly-filled knees.
At the sound of his voice, warmth uncurled in the pit of her stomach. “Please allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Erik Anders.”
Julie’s eyes widened. Had her transformation been so complete that he didn’t know who she was? “I know,” she said, offering him a tremulous smile. “I mean, you and I…” She took a deep breath and began again. “We’ve met before, Your Highness.”
He stared at her then. “Julie? Julie Britton?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The shock of recognition in Erik’s deep, brown eyes told her that he had remembered her as the coltish teenager she had been the last time he’d seen her. His expression never changed, but his silent gaze made her feel all the more like the ugly duckling that had turned into a swan.
The silence began to feel awkward. Wasn’t it his turn to say something, since she had spoken last? Feeling as if she were playing a game whose rules were written in another language, Julie said, “The ball…it’s wonderful. And you dance so…beautifully.” At her words she felt her cheeks grow hot. What a stupid thing to say to a prince! And what a time to blush! She looked away, both hoping and dreading that he would excuse himself and find his next partner, leaving her in her pink-cheeked misery to watch him from afar. But the sound of his voice drew her eyes back to his.
Up close he was so heart-stoppingly handsome that it took a moment for the words he spoke to register with her. And those words were magical. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” he asked softly.
She looked at him in disbelief. Could it be true? Prince Erik wanted to dance with her! All of the fervent, silent longings of her heart had come true. Almost paralyzed with nervousness, she managed to loosen her tongue to answer. “Thank you for the kind invitation, Your Highness,” she said, regaining her poise. “It would be a pleasure to dance with you.”
She placed her hand on the arm he held out to her, the feel of hard muscle under his tuxedo jacket sending a warm thrill coursing through her. As he led her onto the dance floor, a sudden panic seized her—which hand was she supposed to give him to hold? She had practiced dancing with her girlfriend Drew, but they had taken turns leading, so that both ways seemed natural to Julie. Her alarm was needless, though; his movements were so smooth and sure that without her realizing quite how it happened, she was in his arms.
With all she was feeling, it was impossible for Julie to concentrate on the steps she had practiced, but she found that she didn’t need to. Dancing with Erik seemed effortless; following his lead, as natural as breathing.
He held her away from him, as if she were both fragile and priceless. “Are you all right?” he asked.
Julie wanted to laugh out loud. Whatever she had imagined her prince might say during a dance, it was not those words of careful concern. Was she all right? It was like asking the sun if it felt lukewarm. She let her answer beam out in a smile that seemed to melt away some of his reserve. He broadened his steps, sweeping her across the ballroom, naturally tightening his embrace and pulling her closer.
Her poise gave way as a wild restlessness swirled through her, and it seemed to Julie as though she had discovered all of the wonder of life right there in his arms. The sureness of his step as he guided her, the hardness of his muscle under her touch, even the subtle fragrance of his aftershave were constant reminders to her that this was a man who was holding her—not an almost man, like the boys at school, and not a fairytale prince—a real man. And she found herself responding to him like a woman, for the first time. Her body became soft and pliant, her curves nestling against his solid muscle; her insides went warm and liquid; and she couldn’t look at his mouth without licking her lips. It was as if her body had been dormant and was now gradually coming to glorious life.
After what seemed a lifetime—or was it the blink of an eye?—the song came to an end. She looked up at Erik, and when their eyes met he pulled her closer. All around them couples were talking and walking, but amid the flow they stood like an island, silent and motionless, locked in an embrace. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming for Julie, and she knew instinctively that she could not be feeling something so powerful all by herself.
Strains of the next song filtered through, a slow song. Julie had no thought but to remain in his arms all night, but the music seemed to be a kind of a signal for Erik. He pulled back and excused himself abruptly, murmuring something about his duty as a member of the host family. Julie watched him disappear into the crowd, then made a sudden departure of her own, out of one of the French doors that lined the side of the ballroom.
Once outside, she gravitated toward the sanctuary of her secret place on the castle grounds, a rocky ledge above the ocean that was secluded from sight by trees. Alone at last, she clamped one hand over her galloping heart, which did nothing to stop it from carrying her, in her mind, at a breakneck pace over beautiful and terrifying new ground. And deep breaths of the brisk ocean air did not purge her feeling that one dance with Erik Anders had shifted the axis of her world forever and always.
She heard a noise behind her and turned to see a man leaning against a tree. With an easy movement, he started toward her.
It was Erik.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, taken by surprise. “Did you follow me?”
“No. I was here first.” His voice was a deep rumble beside her in the dark.
“I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place.”
“I’ve always known.”
He said no more, but just having him so near was unsettling. At last curiosity overcame her. “Why did you come out here, Erik?” she asked.
“Probably for the same reason you did.”
Her heart began to pound. She knew why she was there, and she saw her feelings mirrored in his eyes. But she needed to hear him say it, to have him put it into words. “And what reason is that?” she asked softly.
He tore his gaze away from hers and turned it to the ocean. After a pause he said, “To get a breath of fresh air, of course.”
Disappointed, Julie looked out over the edge of the rocks. She sensed that, here with Erik, she was poised on the brink of a chasm. She could take the no-risk path by turning away. Or she could try to make a breathtaking leap into the wonderful future that was beckoning to her from the other side.
Logic never had a chance. Julie, not wanting to live with the specter of might-have-been, took a leap of faith. “There’s something I have to say to you, Erik,” she said, and swallowed once before baring her soul. I’ve never felt this way before. But I’ve had feelings for you—from afar—for a long time. And now it felt like something…happened between us, there in the ballroom.”
“We shared a dance, Julie.”
“There was more to it than that.”
“Yes, there certainly was,” he said, frustration roughening his voice. He turned to face her. “There was the fact that the dance was at a royal ball, in a castle. There was the fact that you are very young and are no doubt inclined to see romance lurking around every corner, anyway. There was the fact that I am an older man, five years older than you, and a prince to boot.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “I may be younger than you are, but there’s no need to insult me. I know what I feel, and it’s not because of any of those things.”
“I’m not only older, I’m also more experienced than you are, Julie. Listen to me,” he said earnestly, as if trying to convince himself. “Take away those rather unusual circumstances, and you’ll realize, as I do, that it was just an ordinary dance.”
He didn’t convince her; rather, his denial made her more sure that she was right. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe that it was much more. And I think that you believe it, too.”
“I don’t, and I’ll prove it to you,” he said, pulling her into his arms. This time it was not a charming request, but a hoarse command. “Dance with me.”
His gruffness made her hopes soar, but he remained completely self-possessed, holding her at arm’s length in an excruciatingly proper dance position. She knew what he was trying to do. There was no ballroom here, just the looming shadows of trees behind them and the endless dark expanse of the ocean in front of them. There was no sparkling light from crystal chandeliers, just the milky darkness of a night lit by a half moon. There was no sweet throatiness of an orchestra’s music, just eerie wisps of melody carried their way by the restless, chilly breeze.
But none of that mattered, any more than Julie’s inexperience did. Instinctively she closed the gap between them, her body coming into full contact with his. She was rewarded by the sizzle of a connection, and felt his arms gather her closer. The spark took hold, becoming a fire that warmed their embrace. She felt the power of its heat as surely as she felt the thrill of being held against him.
“Do you believe there’s more now?” she asked softly.
During the long silence that followed, they abandoned all pretense of dancing and stood poised, eyes locked, connected in body and in something more. The amber flame she saw deep in his eyes told her that she was right, that he did feel what she felt. She looked up at him, willing him to go that one step further and tell her with the kind of kiss that sealed destinies.
“You do believe, Erik,” she whispered urgently. “I know you do.”
With her words she saw the burning intensity in his eyes flicker and disappear. And then he kissed her—on the top of the head. He took a step backward, breaking all contact between them.
“I believe,” he said evenly, “that it’s time I got you back to the ballroom. I have neglected my duty long enough.”
And with that her leap of faith ended with a heartrending crash. Keeping her head high, silently fighting back tears, Julie let him escort her back to the ball. And then she walked away, through the crowded ballroom and out the front door of the castle once again, wondering why her handsome prince didn’t know that fairy tales were supposed to have happy endings.
Chapter One (#ulink_a58c538f-1896-5a25-8c1c-8750300779ca)
Erik Anders turned his back on the hospital bed to look out the window, not that he noticed the view of Boston spread out before him. He was taking a moment to remind himself that the man lying in the bed behind him was King Ivar, ruler of Isle Anders, a man to whom deference was due even when he wasn’t lying in recovery from heart surgery.
He had to remind himself because, at that moment, His Majesty the king was acting like your basic, garden variety, stubbornly infuriating father. His father.
“I await your answer,” came the king’s commanding voice from behind him.
Prince Erik turned back and took his seat at his father’s bedside. On the other side of the bed sat his younger brother, Whit, who looked both amused and relieved that Erik had drawn their father’s fire this time.
“Your Majesty, perhaps this is not the best time to discuss this.” Erik’s voice kept its customary calm. The king’s doctor had made it clear to him and his brother that although their father was making progress in his recovery, they had to make every effort to keep him from feeling stress of any kind.
The king, who did not take to coddling, gave Erik a smoldering look. “You, my elder son, are the crown prince of Isle Anders. Destiny has chosen you to succeed me to the throne,” he said. “I place great trust in you, and never have you let me down. Never have you shirked a duty. Until now.”
Erik counted to ten in his native language and then in English before answering. “With all due respect, sire, I am not shirking this duty, either. I am well aware that the laws of tradition dictate that the crown prince of Isle Anders must take a bride before being crowned king, and I stand ready to uphold that requirement.”
“You are thirty years old. Just when do you plan to fulfill your duty?” the king demanded.
“Before my coronation, which I hope will not take place for a good many years.”
“I am getting older,” the king warned. “I just had major surgery.”
“From which your doctor expects you will make a fine recovery,” Erik stated calmly. “All you need to do is rest.”
“I can’t rest easy until I know the succession is secure.”
“It will be.” Erik reminded himself that his father was only thinking about the country they both loved. Isle Anders wasn’t big, but it was beautiful, a jewel of an island in the deep blue waters of the North Atlantic, not far from Iceland. During the short summer it glowed with the dark green fire of an emerald; in winter it sparkled with the icy brilliance of a diamond. It was icier than Greenland, greener than Iceland, and its people were as gutsy and strong as the Vikings who had first populated it. The Anders family, which had acquired its wealth independent of its position, had ruled the island with pride for countless years with the approval of the citizens they served. The way Erik looked at it, he had been born into the privilege of doing a job he loved, and he would do nothing to jeopardize that. Like his father, Erik Anders took his duty to Isle Anders very seriously.
“Without a marriage, there can be no heir to the throne,” the king pointed out.
“I assure you, sire—” Erik began.
“I am not assured!” Fire flashed from behind the king’s blue eyes. “I know that there is no shortage of admiring women around you, but I am also well aware that you don’t give any of them the slightest chance to win your affection. And as for him—” The king threw a glance of reproof at Whit, who had such a reputation as a ladies’ man that the press had dubbed him the Prince of Hearts. “Where does this leave me? With one son who refuses to fall in love and another who falls in love every other week!” he said, his voice echoing off the walls of the room.
Then, as quickly as it had arisen, the fire in the king’s eyes died. He sank back heavily against his pillows, his face ashen, just as his doctor entered the room.
“You two, out of here!” the doctor ordered sharply. Both princes jumped to the command. All three men knew that in the matter of the king’s health, the doctor’s status as a medical man outranked the princes’ royalty.
Out in the hallway Erik and his brother exchanged a worried look.
“Do you think he’s all right?” Whit finally asked.
Erik shrugged and propped a shoulder against the wall.
Whit dragged his fingers through his hair. “I hate to see him like this.”
Erik knew what he meant. The golden strands of the king’s thick hair and beard were well-laced with silver, and his recent illness and surgery had left him looking careworn and haggard. And the way he talked… For the first time, Erik feared his indomitable father might be giving up hope. The thought gave him a bone-deep chill.
He shook it off, refusing to think about the possibility of King Ivar’s not making it. Instead of dwelling on something he had no power over, he turned his thoughts to something he did: his father’s preoccupation with the idea of securing the succession. Erik had long known that it was his duty to his country to marry before his coronation. But maybe it was his duty to his father to do it sooner.
He had someone in mind, of course; someone he had known for a long time. She was exactly the kind of woman he had always expected to take as a wife: a woman who suited him perfectly, who surely shared his feeling that she was destined to be his bride.
Erik had waited for a number of reasons, but now he knew that he had put off the inevitable long enough. The time was finally right. Tonight’s ball would be the perfect forum for him to introduce his future bride to the world. The perfect setting for their rendezvous with destiny.
Julie Britton set down the receiver but hung on to the phone, as if that might stop the strange soaring feeling that the unexpected news had given her.
Of course she had known Prince Erik would be back in the States, now that his father was ill. But she never expected that he would make an appearance at the ball here in Anders Point tonight.
Not that it mattered to her, Julie told herself firmly. She was in charge of planning the charity ball for King Ivar. She had overseen everything, right down to the last detail. It couldn’t possibly matter to her which of the king’s sons was to perform the duties of host.
In the past it had always been Prince Whit who oversaw these glamorous high-publicity events, while Erik tended to shy away from the spotlight. She wondered now what could possibly be forcing the mysterious Prince Erik away from desk duty and out into the public.
Under her hand the phone rang again. Julie jumped, then answered.
“Hello?”
“Julie! What are you still doing there at the castle?”
It was her friend, Annah. “Not much,” Julie said dryly. “Just planning a royal ball.”
“Well, it’s ten hours to midnight, Cinderella. Are you going to come down here and pick out a gown, or were you planning on wearing your rags to the ball?”
“Ten hours to—omigosh! It’s two o’clock already? I’ll be right there, Annah. Bye!”
After a quick check with the head chef on the food preparation for the evening, Julie rushed from the castle, carefully securing the door behind her. Not that she was worried about a break-in. The tiny coastal town of Anders Point, Maine, was hardly a hotbed of criminal activity. But she took great pride in her job as castle caretaker, treating the stately mansion as if it were her home. Of course it wasn’t her castle; it belonged to King Ivar.
But it felt like it was hers, because Julie was the only one who had lived there for the past year, except for occasional visits by the king. He had asked her to take over as caretaker after the death of her grandfather, who had long held the position. The decision was a no-brainer for Julie, who had lived in New York City since the age of three, but had spent most summers at Anders Point with her grandfather. The king’s offer had given her the ideal setup. Her duties had allowed her to continue her career as a reading specialist—she had gotten a part-time position in the town school, which had let out the week before for summer vacation—and she had a place to live.
Not just any place. She paused to look up at the magnificent facade, pushing away wisps of hair that the breeze from the ocean had freed from her braid. The castle, perched on a rocky bluff at the tip of Anders Point, was magical. It was built more for function than form, but it had a raw, elemental beauty set off by the backdrop of the restless ocean. Inside, its stone walls and dark corridors oozed history and romance.
No wonder she had once fallen in love there.
But that incredible night seemed like a dream now. She hadn’t seen Erik since their moonlit dance, nine years ago. But even now, Julie still cringed at the memory. She had crashed, all right, but in time she’d picked herself up and gone on with her life.
Preoccupied with her thoughts, she walked slowly around the castle, smiling wistfully at her long-ago hopes for what might have been with Erik. It hadn’t worked out, but she didn’t regret her decision to take a chance. There had been no happy ending for her, but she still believed in love.
The castle brought out her romantic nature. Especially since it was here that King Ivar himself had fallen in love, when he was still a prince. It was his family’s get-away home, and he had been staying in it while on official business in America, when a girl from Anders Point had captured his heart. She had been similarly smitten, and their storybook romance and royal wedding had thrilled the world, and Julie, too. She herself hadn’t been born when it happened, of course, but she had begged her mother time and again to tell the story of how the girl her mother had once jumped rope with had grown up to become a princess; and then a queen when Ivar took the throne.
In the queen’s memory, the king held a huge ball every few years at the Anders Point castle where they had met, to raise money for her favorite charity. The sweetness of that gesture always touched Julie, who saw it as undeniable proof that even a man as powerful and demanding as King Ivar could be as romantic as she was on the inside—unlike his son. Naturally, the king himself had always hosted the ball. And although he wouldn’t be there this time, he had insisted that the ball go on as scheduled.
Tonight. It was hard to believe. It seemed like only a million details ago that the king had asked her to be in charge of coordinating the preparations for the ball. Julie, who had never so much as planned a wedding, had been flattered by the king’s trust in her, and was determined to prove that it had not been misplaced.
Especially now, with him in the hospital. She had been fond of the king ever since she was a little girl. During the past year her regard had grown. Julie figured she would do just about anything to ease the king’s mind and speed his recovery.
With that thought, she hurried to her car and drove down the hill on the castle road. Julie made herself take deep breaths of the breeze coming in off the ocean. To her knowledge, no one had ever died of excitement, but she didn’t want to be the first, not today of all days. Not when she finally had a chance to get a glimpse of Prince. Erik again.
“Julie! Julie!” Six-year-old Lexi Davis sprinted out from the back room of the two-story house Annah lived and worked in. The little girl’s hands clamped an aluminum foil tiara, which had been knocked askew by her run, onto the top of her head.
“Princess Lexi! How was your morning?” Julie asked as she caught her up in a hug. Lexi’s mother, Julie’s childhood friend Drew, was sheriff of Anders Point. To the dismay of her practical mother, Lexi’s princess phase had far outlived that of most other little girls. Lexi didn’t just play princess; she lived it. Julie, who considered such imagination a priceless gift, happily indulged her.
“It was—” Lexi paused, frowning, no doubt thinking of a word with just the right amount of royal condescension. “Quite satisfactory,” she finished with a smile.
“I’m pleased to hear it, Your Highness.”
“Because this is the best place to play dress up,” Lexi added breathlessly. “I love when Annah watches me.
“Where’s your mommy?”
“Out on a call.”
That could mean anything, Julie knew. As the town’s only elected official, Drew was a combination sheriff, justice of the peace, animal control officer and settler of trivial disputes between neighbors.
Lexi was still chattering as they walked past Annah’s coffee counter and into her secondhand shop in back. “Can you make up another fairy tale with me, Julie? Like the one when the princess saved the kingdom from the dragon?”
“I don’t have time, honey. Tonight’s the ball.”
Lexi sighed. “You get to live in the castle, and you get to go to the ball. You’re the luckiest person in the world.”
Julie smiled at her. “I think I am,” she agreed.
They walked into a tiny room in back, which Annah used as her office. Annah, who was just hanging up the phone, smiled at Julie.
“You look like you just swallowed fireworks,” she said.
Julie shrugged happily, eyes sparkling. “I am going to a royal ball tonight.”
“Yes, I know,” Annah teased. “Maybe you’ll be swept off your feet by a movie star or a diplomat or a multibillionaire—”
“Or a prince,” Lexi suggested.
“In my dreams,” Julie said with a laugh. At least, in her dreams of long ago.
“Are you wearing anything in those dreams?” Annah asked dryly. “I don’t know how you could leave your dress for the last minute like this, but better late than never.”
“I have great faith in you. I knew you would find me something,” Julie said.
“Two somethings.” With a smile, Annah turned to a closet in the corner of the office and pulled out a short, strapless dress of brilliant blue. “Ta-da. What do you think?”
Julie looked at it. “Ah,” she said, noncommittally. “And the other something?”
Annah sighed, and rummaged another dress out of the closet. “This,” she said, holding up a black gown with sheer sleeves and a floor-length hem.
Julie looked at them both. “What do you think?”
“No contest. The blue,” Annah said. “It’s made for you, Julie. You’re the only woman I know who could do it justice.”
Julie looked at the dress doubtfully. “It is gorgeous, Annah. But I’ve heard you can never go wrong with basic black.”
“Black is all wrong for your coloring. No one has bluer eyes than you do, Julie, and this dress will make them shine more than the most exquisite jewels in that ballroom.”
Uh-oh. Annah was starting to wax poetic about the darn dress, which, Julie noticed, barely covered the hanger. “It doesn’t look my size,” she pointed out diplomatically.
Annah thrust the dress into her hands. “Trust me.”
Julie sighed. Annah knew her way around clothes. She had an instinct for knowing what looked good on all of her customers, which was why they kept coming back. And she herself always looked terrific. Annah had class.
She was smiling brightly at Julie. “Try it on,” she urged.
Minutes later, Julie emerged from the dressing room and looked at Annah, waiting for her reaction.
“Oh, Julie,” Annah said, her dark eyes wide. “Even I didn’t expect it was going to look this good.”
Lexi stared at Julie, openmouthed, before bestowing on her the highest compliment in her six-year-old world. “You look like a real princess,” she said.
“Now let’s try something out on your hair,” Annah said, starting in with a brush.
While she was working, the bell on the front door jangled. Lexi flew out to see who had come into the store. “Mommy!” Julie heard her say. “Come see Princess Julie!"
“Drew, stay out there until I’m finished,” Annah called. “I want you to get the full effect.”
“She won’t let me look, either,” complained Julie. She was glad Drew had arrived in time to give her opinion. They had been friends forever, playing together all those summers she had visited her grandfather. They’d had the run of the castle grounds, a kid’s paradise, and had been joined by Prince Whit whenever he and the king stayed at the castle. Whit was Julie’s age, Drew just a year younger, and in those days the three had been as inseparable as the peanut butter and marshmallow goop sandwiches that had been their favorite lunch. But Julie hadn’t seen Whit since they were both sixteen, while she’d seen Drew every summer but one.
“How is everything going for the ball, Julie?” Drew asked her.
“So far, so good, keep your fingers crossed.”
More quietly, Drew said, “When does Whit arrive?”
“Not Whit. Erik.” As she said his name, Julie felt her stomach give a funny lurch to zero gravity.
“Prince Erik?” Drew sounded surprised. “I thought Whit was going to take the king’s place as host.”
“He was supposed to, but I just got a call from one of King Ivar’s men. It’ll be Erik.” It still seemed strange to think that Erik would be at the ball tonight. After all those years, she would see him again. She couldn’t help wondering what would happen. Maybe they would dance, and maybe the magic she remembered would be recaptured, and this time, maybe… Amazed at the rapidity of her chain of thought, Julie was forced to smile at her own expense. More likely he’d pat her on the head and send her away again.
“I’m surprised that Whit would pass up the chance to host a ball,” Drew said. “Talk about being in his element. Glitz, glamour, publicity, beautiful wom-en…”
“I wonder why Prince Erik hasn’t married yet,” Annah mused. “Do you think he’s looking for a bride, Julie?”
The king had made no secret to Julie of his great desire to have his older son marry, but Julie had no idea what Erik’s opinion on the matter was. “If he is, he should hire you as a consultant, Annah,” she told her friend warmly. Annah had an uncanny talent for spotting true love when she saw it. “Would you like me to suggest it to him tonight?”
Annah laughed. “Why don’t you go for him yourself, and avoid the middleman?”
“If the past is any indication, she doesn’t need any encouragement, Annah,” Drew said from the other room.
Julie ignored the hot blush that Drew’s teasing comment had called up and spoke to Annah. “Childhood friends remember the most inconvenient things.” Like an embarrassing crush on a friend’s older brother.
Annah put the brush down. “This sounds interesting,” she said. “Do tell.”
Julie gave a sheepish grin. “I kind of fell for Erik,” she explained.
“When?” asked Annah.
“Ages ago,” Julie said, secure in the knowledge that now she was neither so young nor so naive. At sixteen, she had thought she’d found the love of her life, but he had obviously not felt the same inexorable pull of destiny that she had. At twenty-five she hardly spent her days pining over him.
Still, to be honest, she had to admit that she seemed unable to erase him from her mind completely. She had always wondered what would happen if she got a grown-up chance to see whether her young intuition had been on target. The king’s change of plans had given her an excellent opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. Naturally she had no real expectations; but Julie was an incurable optimist, and optimism sometimes has very little to do with what is realistic. Somewhere inside her lived the battered, but still breathing, hope that someday, somehow, she might have another chance to try to win Erik’s heart. And she knew that seeing him tonight at the ball would either resuscitate that hope or give it the blow that would lay it to rest for good.
Uncannily Drew read her thoughts. “You aren’t really interested in him, are you, Julie?” She sounded concerned.
Julie didn’t answer.
“Everyone has things that they keep from even their best friends,” observed Annah as she put the finishing touches on Julie’s hair.
It was true, Julie knew. Annah herself avoided any reminders of the painful circumstances surrounding her divorce. And Drew never talked about Lexi’s father; had in fact kept his identity a secret, even from them. Close as the three were, they respected each other’s privacy.
“You can come in now, Drew,” Annah said at last.
Drew stopped in the doorway and stood there, star-ing, while Julie turned around in the middle of the room. Drew was the most down-to-earth person she knew. If Julie looked like a hooker on a holiday, Drew would have no qualms about telling her so.
“Well, Drew?” Julie said.
“You’re absolutely stunning, kid. Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“That makes two of us,” Julie said, staring at her reflection in the floor-length mirror Annah steered her over to. She hardly recognized herself, with her hair up like this. Annah had been right about what the color of the dress would do for her eyes, too. As for the dress itself, it was a bit of shapely, shimmering magic, hugging curves that Julie hadn’t realized she had. She swallowed. “But isn’t it a little on the—”
“Sexy side?” Drew supplied.
“Omigosh. Too sexy?”
“Not too sexy,” Annah assured her quickly. “Classy sexy. Understated sexy.”
Drew rolled her eyes. “Understated? When she walks through that ballroom, testosterone levels will hit the danger zone.”
Julie knew that Drew, who never exaggerated, must be doing it now—even though it was a heady thought.
“Every woman needs a night like that in her life,” Annah said.
“I’m not really a guest at the ball,” Julie reminded them and herself. “I’m the hired help. Maybe I’d better try on the black one.”
She did, and wondered who ever had come up with the idea that black was sexy and sophisticated. On her, basic black was basic boring. Worse. She looked like a cadaver.
Lexi was the first to speak. “Before you looked like a princess,” she said, looking up at Julie. “Now you look like a lady-in-waiting.”
“What do you two think?” Julie asked her friends.
“The blue.” Annah gave her vote firmly.
“The blue,” Drew agreed.
Julie looked in the mirror and decided that she was tired of being a lady-in-waiting. “All right, all right,” she said laughingly. “I’ll be a princess.”
Julie walked into the castle kitchen and helped herself to a sample from a tray of hors d’oeuvres on the counter.
“Mmm,” she said, smiling up into the frown of the head chef. “Is the rest of the food this good, Gustave?”
“How would I know?” he asked, raising one eyebrow. “I have spent the afternoon doing your job, mademoiselle.”
“Oh, then you took care of things while I was gone?”
“Of course. And right now half of the tradesmen in America are in the ballroom awaiting your instructions.”
“I knew I could count on you,” Julie said, giving him an impetuous kiss on the cheek.
The phone rang. “And that’s another thing,” he pointed out. "Mademoiselle, surely even in this godforsaken corner of America you have heard of answering machines.”
“I didn’t think of turning it on, since you were here,” Julie said, adding impishly, “Did the phone ring while I was gone?”
“Incessantly,” he said with a sniff. “I managed to ignore it, until the last time.”
“Who was it?”
“His Highness, the crown prince.”
Julie spun around. Erik called? “What did he say?”
Gustave was busy tasting a sauce that an underling held out to him on a spoon. He gave a few curt instructions, while Julie thought she would burst out of her skin, waiting.
“He said he needed to speak with you privately on an urgent matter and would call back.” He nodded toward the ringing phone. “That would be he, I suppose.”
Julie ran into the library and grabbed the phone. It was indeed Erik.
“Hello, Julie,” he said, his deep voice setting something inside her vibrating.
Her answer was barely a whisper. “Prince Erik.”
He seemed to hesitate before speaking again, and when he did, there was a new warmth in his voice. “It’s…been a while.”
“Yes. It has.” Her stomach gave another one of those weightless lurches, as if she had swallowed a helium balloon. Ignoring it, she warned herself against reading any sentimentality into his end of the conversation. He was no doubt calling on business, now that he was hosting the ball. In a voice that she optimistically told herself sounded perfectly calm, she added, “If you’re calling about tonight, the arrangements are nearly all in place.”
“I imagine so. This is probably not the best time to spring a surprise on you.”
“A surprise?”
“Yes,” he said. “And my plans depend on you, Julie.”
Something in his voice told her that he was talking about a matter of far more consequence than rearranging the seating at the ball, but she refused to allow herself to indulge in any wild speculations. “Your father places great trust in me,” she assured him professionally.
“He has made no secret of that fact.”
His response warmed her. “I understand you saw the king this morning,” she said. “How is he?”
“Not good,” he said soberly.
Julie couldn’t disguise the worry in her voice. “Your Highness, what’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing that I can’t rectify,” he said. “Medically, the king’s progress has been fair, but it is being impeded by his preoccupation with the succession. Given how closely you work with him, I assume he has shared with you his great desire that I choose a bride.”
“He has mentioned his—ah, concern,” Julie admitted.
Erik seemed amused. “His Majesty will have no reason to question my devotion to duty, after tonight. Everything has been arranged, except for the announcement itself.”
Julie frowned, puzzled. “I—I beg your pardon?"
“My father’s worries will end at midnight,” Erik explained. “When I announce my engagement.”
Chapter Two (#ulink_7cf16b53-29d2-5998-af0d-472e9f6b9139)
Alone in her tower room, the highest point in the castle, Julie looked at her hair with satisfaction. The style was cool and sophisticated, which was exactly the image she wanted to project tonight at the ball. Especially to herself.
She knew one thing as perfectly as she knew her own name: any silly hopes she had for renewing that old spark she’d felt with Prince Erik were now dead and buried.
Granted, the news of his engagement had taken her by surprise at first, but the real surprise was that it had taken him this long to surrender his status as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. He was not only crown prince of Isle Anders, he was handsome, he was intelligent, and his integrity was unparalleled. He would be a good husband to the woman he had chosen. Julie wished them well.
As for that powerful feeling she had felt with him, whatever it was it obviously meant nothing if he hadn’t felt it, too. He might not even recognize her after all these years, and there was no reason to believe that he would remember a long-ago evening that he, at the time, had taken pains to prove hadn’t meant anything to him. Julie sure hoped he didn’t remember—her own memory of it was embarrassing enough. But even if he did, she had no fear that he would make any reference to it. His sense of honor was as strong as his sense of duty.
Erik belonged to someone else, but he wasn’t going to be the only man at the ball, she reminded herself as she put on the blue dress Annah had pressed for her. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection in the mirror and gave a little rueful grin at the fanciful imaginings that had dwelt deep within her for so long.
This was the perfect dress to wear to dance on the grave of her silly dreams.
Erik stood in the ballroom doorway, looking into the cavernous stone-walled room that would in less than an hour be the setting for a royal ball, a ball people were paying fabulous amounts of money to the king’s favorite charity in order to attend.
He had expected austere dignity, but what he found was a close approximation of bedlam. People carrying flowers were running back and forth, dodging others toting tables and chairs. The decorative fountain had run amok, and a group of people armed with towels were mopping up the resultant river. The head of the wait staff was giving the food and drink servers their instructions, punctuated with wide sweeps of both hands. Security was restless, trying to school their expressions into placidity as they watched the hubbub in the room. From the kitchen came the unmistakable bellow of his father’s head chef, while the orchestra, ensconced on a makeshift stage in the front of the room, added to the chaos as it played snatches of songs for a sound check.
In the center of the swirl of activity stood Julie Brit-ton. He hadn’t seen her in years, but he would have recognized her anywhere. It was obvious that she was in charge—people kept running up to her to tell or ask her something. But she was regal and poised, by far the calmest person in the room. One encouraging word from her, and even the most frantic person left her looking confident. Maybe it was her hundred-watt smile or her obvious delight in the proceedings. Whatever it was, it was working miracles. As he watched, bedlam gradually subsided as the room transformed, surrounding Julie in beauty.
Certainly, Erik thought, she was even more beautiful than he remembered. Not that the adjective did her justice, or had much to do with the fact that she was already in formal dress. Much more than outward appearance, Julie’s allure radiated from within. She was so vibrantly alive, and even from across the ballroom, the force of her appeal hit him harder than he was prepared for. It had been the same way one long-ago night; there was something about her that beckoned to him. Now, as then, he was so drawn that he found himself walking across the ballroom toward her.
Amid the frantic last-minute preparations, Julie sensed a movement that was out of place. A man was coming her way, and she didn’t need the discreet nod given him by the chief of security to know that the man was Prince Erik. The confusion around her continued, but as she focused on him, her awareness of all else ceased.
Reality exceeded memory. He topped six feet by an inch or two, and it looked as if all of his weight came from lean, trim muscle. He carried himself with regal assurance; moreover, he exuded an aura of intelligent confidence that suited his tough, rangy build. Crown prince or no, he obviously spent a good deal of time outdoors, because his dark blond hair was sun streaked against his tanned skin. His dark brown eyes still had no bottom that she could discern.
He stopped in front of her, as he had nine years before. Her eyes met his unfathomable gaze, completing a circuit like an electrical connection. Now, as then, an involuntary heightening of awareness nearly bowled her over, and the two moments linked across the span of years between them. Feeling it so strongly again, she knew why she had taken a risk back then—and knew with utter certainty that she had been right to do so.
For Erik, standing so close to Julie brought back vivid memories of her naive sensuality and refreshing honesty, and of the night they had almost been too much to resist. One dance with her had had him shirking his responsibilities, rushing outside to try to regain his equilibrium. But looking for peace of mind in a. spot of seclusion, he had found Julie instead. He had purposely misled her in refusing to admit that there was something between them. There had been, and that was precisely why he had backed off. Surrendering control to an unknown emotion, especially one that strong, was untenable for Erik.
Seeing her again, he was glad he’d found the strength to resist her. A woman who could make him feel like that was the wrong kind of woman for him. The years had proven him right.
With that conviction, he dismissed the past and gave her a polite, but impersonal, nod. “Hello, Julie,” he said.
His perfunctory greeting called her back to the present, back from the night she had danced with him under an endless sky and had wished on every star in the galaxy that he would feel what she had.
But the stars had had better things to do. Now he was marrying someone else, and she was older and infinitely wiser. Still, she realized how much easier it had been to handle the news of his engagement over the phone. Up close it was harder to think of wishing him well in marrying another woman. Luckily she had made her congratulations on the phone, so she got right down to business.
“Good evening, Your Highness,” she said formally. “What can I do for you?” It was helpful to remember that she was the employee. It was natural that he assign duties to her as he pleased, as he had occasionally done by mail and fax since the king’s illness.
“After speaking with you, I made arrangements to have cameras set up in here to simulcast the ball, in-eluding the announcement, in my father’s hospital room.”
“You don’t think the news will be too much of a shock for him?” Julie asked, concerned.
“My finally getting engaged will doubtless be a shock,” Erik said dryly. “However, since it will be of a pleasant variety, his doctor has given full approval.” He paused. “The camera crew will arrive any minute, and I’ve given them incentive to set up quickly. I hope they won’t cause you any problems.”
She gave him a confident smile. “None I can’t handle.”
“Good,” he said briskly. “Has Roberta arrived?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Then she must not be here. I told her to seek you out if she arrived before I did.”
“Now that you are here,” Julie said with a smile, “I am sure that you will be the first to know of her arrival.”
“I doubt that,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I will be quite busy with a number of things I have to do before the ball. Please keep me posted on her arrival.”
“Of course.” Apparently he was no romantic, who would spend the wait pacing the floor in anticipation of the arrival of his lady love.
“I’d also like a room to be prepared for her. It will be expected that she, as my fiancée, will be a guest here in the castle.”
Julie thought that was a funny way of putting it. Didn’t he want to be with her?
“She can have the bedroom at the top of the stairs,” Erik went on. “I’ll take the tower room that adjoins it”
Julie didn’t say anything.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, Your Highness,” Julie said. “I have been living in the tower room, but I’ll move my things out”.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to put you out The two adjoining bedrooms in the north hall will serve my purpose just as well.”
“I can move. It’s—”
“I insist,” Erik said simply.
Julie gave in. He had an air of quiet command that he wore well, she thought. He would make a good leader.
“As you wish,” she said. “Is there anything else?
Would you like to inspect the kitchen, take a quick tour of the grounds, see the list of—”
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s obvious that you are doing a fine job pulling things together. If I can trust you with the secret of my engagement, I can certainly trust you with the details of the evening.” He glanced at his watch. “I have a few details of my own to take care of now. Until later, Julie,” he said, and departed.
Erik entered the library and closed the door behind him. It would be quiet enough in here to finish up the paperwork that he would have to get to Whit, now that his brother would be taking over for him on Isle Anders. The king had insisted that Erik stay at Anders Point for a while and take on Whit’s public relations duties. His father knew Erik preferred doing the king’s domestic duties, the nuts-and-bolts work of running the country, far better than the international schmoozing Whit excelled at. Erik suspected that the king, by changing his duties, was trying to pressure him to choose a bride. He hated this whole arrangement, but had reason to hope that it would only be temporary, and it paled in comparison to his fear for the king’s health.
Concern about his father’s recovery had been gnawing at Erik, but he was not a worrier, he was a doer. The scene at the hospital that morning had sealed his decision. It was time to get on with the matter of securing the succession. The actual marriage didn’t have to take place until right before his coronation, but if Erik were engaged in the meantime, it might allay his father’s concerns so that he could recover. To accomplish that, Erik would do anything in his power.
He had had an understanding with Roberta for quite some time. After all, he had known all along that eventually he would have to choose a bride. For a number of reasons, he felt she would be suitable. She was not from Isle Anders, but that was not an issue; his father had himself married a girl from Maine. Erik had known Roberta for a long time. His father thought highly of her, as did everyone who knew her. She carried herself well in public and would be able to perform all the duties that went along with being queen someday.
Her manners were refined, impeccable. She wouldn’t cause him public embarrassment of any kind. Heiress to a multimillion-dollar fortune, she nevertheless stayed out of the headlines. Sophisticated and polished, she had the background and social graces to be the kind of hostess he would need for state dinners and other events. Cautious and restrained, she took life as it came, instead of rushing headlong out to meet it. With her he would find steady reliability, not breathless excitement.
Best of all, she was no more in love with him than he was with her, which made possible the only kind of marriage that he would consider—a marriage for duty. She had been in love, unrequited love, with a scoundrel who had strung her along mercilessly for years. But she had finally given up her vain hopes of marrying him. This morning she had accepted Erik’s proposal and his terms for their marriage. And once she had agreed, he had no doubt that she would do her duty, as he was doing his. She was a woman of her word.
As far as expediting the matter went, circumstances were in his favor. The ball would be the perfect place to take care of this business, although the announcement was a necessary evil as far as Erik was concerned.
He was by nature a private man. But the fact that he would publicly plight his troth would assure the king he meant business; and that, Erik hoped, would speed his father’s recovery.
After making a final check on the camera crew, Erik went up to his room to dress. Before he went downstairs, he placed a call.
“The king is unavailable,” the head nurse in his private wing informed Erik. “He’s resting up.”
“Is everything in place there?”
“All hooked up, they tell me,” she said.
“What did you tell the king?”
“Just what you told me to tell him, Your Highness. That you hoped he would enjoy watching the ball, even though he couldn’t attend, and that you were going to make an announcement at midnight that you thought he would be interested in.”
“Good. Now there’s just one more thing I’d like you to do.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he’s watching,” she promised.
Naturally Erik looked spectacular in a tux.
Julie greeted him when he came down the stairs. “I just want to make you aware, Your Highness, that the rumors are flying,” she said.
“Rumors?”
“That you will be announcing your engagement tonight.”
He swore under his breath, then apologized for it. “Where did you hear that?”
Julie pointed to the media crews gathered outside on the front lawn. The king allowed them limited access to the ball, in order to raise awareness for his charity.
And besides, most of those in attendance loved the exposure, not to mention the excitement and glamour of flash bulbs exploding in their faces as they got out of their limos.
Erik’s expression was grim. “How did they find out?”
“I don’t know,” Julie said, a little defensively.
“I didn’t mean that I thought you told them,” he said, impatiently. “I told you I trusted you.”
“At any rate, the rumors have reached your father,” she told him. “He called to ask me if I knew who his future daughter-in-law was.”
“And?”
“I told him that if you hadn’t told him yourself, it must not be any of his business,” Julie said simply.
She looked at Erik’s expression and couldn’t help smiling. “You don’t have to look so relieved. I thought you trusted me.”
“Looks like I had good reason to,” he said, giving her one of his rare smiles. “And the best part of it is, you didn’t even lie to him.”
“No, but I think he could tell I was dodging. The king knows I’d make a lousy liar.”
Outside, the first limousine drove up to the front entryway. “Did you decide where you will be receiving guests?” she asked him.
“Where you suggested, inside the ballroom.”
“I’ll make security aware of the expected traffic flow.”
“Fine,” he said. “By the way, I’m impressed with the way everything has fallen into place so smoothly, Julie.”
“Just doing my job, Your Highness.”
“If your jaw were clenched any tighter, Your Highness, the muscles in your cheeks would explode.”
Erik didn’t have to turn around to know who spoke. Gustave had been his father’s chef for years, and he had all the familiarity of a long-time employee who was a de facto member of the family. Gustave always managed to appear at these occasions as a guest, even though he was in charge of the food.
“Just doing my job as host. Making sure everyone is having a good time,” Erik said, eyes on the crowded ballroom before him.
“Especially the lovely mademoiselle in blue, I see.” Although born on Isle Anders, Gustave was half French, a circumstance that flavored both his cooking and his speech.
He was observant, too. Erik had been watching Julie all night. And he wasn’t the only one. It came as no surprise to him that the eyes of some of the top connoisseurs in the world of women had glazed over when she walked into the ballroom.
“She has done a fine job,” Erik said, choosing safe ground. “As for her appearance, she does much credit to the king by her manner of poise and restraint”.
“Ah, yes, I have often myself been struck by her level of poise and restraint,” Gustave said with a chuckle. Erik wondered what the chef found so amusing, but became distracted when he saw a duke with a reputation for shameless philandering trying to wheedle Julie onto the dance floor. A duke who, in the receiving line, had asked him who the luscious babe in blue was. It had taken all of Erik’s restraint to give him a civilized, stony stare, when what he wanted to do was take him outside and wipe the leer from his face.
It was requiring even more restraint to watch the man flirt with her now. It wasn’t the first time Erik had felt protective toward Julie. He could have kissed her that night nine years ago, like she’d wanted him to—hell, like he’d wanted to. But it wouldn’t have been fair to leave her with a memory like that, young and vulnerable as she was. He had rejected her, but at least he had tried to be gentle as well as firm about it. And seeing her again, all grown up, and obviously over him, he realized that he must have handled the matter well. As much as Erik’s instincts still made him want to protect Julie, reason told him he had no right to. Even if he weren’t a soon-to-be engaged man.
A waiter, wending his way through the crowd, offered them champagne from his tray. Gustave took a glass and, watching the duke, asked Erik idly, “Isn’t this where the prince rescues the fair damsel from the dragon?"
Erik, who had no taste for champagne, waved the waiter away. “Where have you been, my friend? Fair damsels can take care of themselves these days,” he said, as much for his own benefit as for Gustave’s. As if on cue, Julie went her way alone, leaving behind a crestfallen duke.
“A pity,” Gustave observed. “It gave you young princes something to do.”
Erik looked at Julie for the hundredth time since he’d arrived that afternoon. She carried herself with a refined grace that made her look right at home in the elegance that surrounded her. Her brown hair, swept off her bare shoulders into a smooth, sophisticated style, shone with gold and copper highlights. She wore a tasteful amount of makeup that played up her features but didn’t hide the scattered freckles he remembered, and those only enhanced the glow of her skin. Curvy in her evening dress, she seemed sexy without meaning to be; but those long legs of hers would show to advantage no matter what she wore—or didn’t wear.
Gustave’s low voice intruded on his thoughts, which were taking a dangerous turn. “It looks like she is going to the serving tables. Would you like to join her, Your Highness? The food is excellent. I can vouch for it.”
At that, Erik smiled. “I’m sure you can. Maybe later, Gustave.”
“Ah, and maybe later the young lady will be dancing. She turned down the duke, but she will accept my offer. I am a grandfather, and dancing with me will be no threat to a lovely young mademoiselle,” Gustave said, gliding away. “Of course, it will be no thrill, either. Unlike a dance with the prince.”
Erik watched him disappear into the crowd. As host, it was his duty to dance with as many of the women in attendance as possible. But he wouldn’t dance with Julie. He had danced with her nine years ago and had felt things that he didn’t think were decent for a grown man of twenty-one to feel toward a girl of sixteen. Even worse, he had felt something much deeper than lust. Now she was of age, and he was about to be safely engaged—but he still had no intention of challenging what he had battled to overcome at twenty-one.
Julie was seating herself at one of the tiny tables set in one corner of the room, among an attractive grouping of large plants and the formerly recalcitrant fountain, which now bubbled obediently. Laughing at something a man at the next table said to her, she took a delicate bite of food, then a sip of champagne. Suddenly she glanced up, right at Erik. Caught staring, he looked guiltily away, then cursed himself both for staring at her in the first place and for having such a damn fool reaction to being caught.
Impatiently he looked toward the entrance. Surely Roberta should have been here by now. The camera crew was busy filming the ball. He had told them to expect that his surprise announcement would take place at midnight.
Not that it was going to be much of a surprise anymore, and that was all right. People were probably speculating as to his choice, and Roberta’s name should be at the top of most people’s list. They had dated casually for years, on and off. It had worked well because neither had expected anything from the other. She because she was in love with another man, he because he had no desire to love or be loved by any woman.
Now he was expecting a lot of her. And he was confident that she would give it. He trusted her. She would show.
Julie, alerted by the kitchen staff of the persistent ringing of the castle’s private line, had gone into the library to answer the phone. When she hung up a few minutes later, she felt countless emotions churning deep inside her. The one that surfaced was dread.
She had to find Erik. Hurrying out of the room, she hoped she wasn’t too late.
He hadn’t been in the ballroom when the phone call came in, so she searched the other downstairs rooms first, with no luck. Trying to appear calm, though her heart was hammering, she decided to try the ballroom again.
She found him in a corner, talking to a group of men. As Julie approached, she heard one of them ask, “Is it true that you are announcing your engagement, old boy?”
The man took Erik’s silence as affirmation, and prodded further. “Who’s the lucky woman?"
If Erik had been inclined to answer, he didn’t have a chance.
“I am.” Julie pushed her way into the group and took Erik by the arm. “At least, for one dance. Don’t you remember you promised to dance with me?” she asked, looking pleadingly at Erik.
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