by Judy Duarte
Monica laughed. “Better yet, how about some sexy blue panties?”
Now it was Dana’s turn to laugh. “We’ll have to go shopping together and see what we can find.” She again looked at her ring, which stood out prominently on her finger. Okay, so it wasn’t anywhere near as big as the Hope Diamond. But it reflected a heart filled with hope. Not to mention love and everything that was right in the world.
“What about your honeymoon?” Monica asked. “Where are you guys going?”
“At first, I assumed we’d just spend time alone at home. But thanks to Rosie’s awesome new nanny, we’re going to be able to leave her in good hands. So this morning, over breakfast, we decided on Paris. Can you believe I finally get to visit that city? It’s filled with so much history and culture. I’d stay a month, if I could. But since Kieran and I both have work, we’re only going for ten days.”
“I’m so happy for you. Kieran sounds like a real keeper. I can’t wait to meet him. Hey, does he have a single brother or friend who’s attracted to petite brunettes?”
“I’ll definitely scope out any suitable prospects. I’d love to see you more often.”
Monica laughed. “After my last relationship, which turned out to be a dud, I’m holding out for a hero like the ones I’ve read about in romance novels.”
“Maybe a handsome swashbuckler?” Dana asked.
“Or better yet, how about a Scottish laird?”
Down the street, the sound of a familiar diesel engine grew louder. “Listen, Monica. I’ll have to call you later. Kieran and Rosie are back from the groomer.”
“The groomer?” Monica asked. “What’d you do, inherit a pet with your new family?”
“Um, sort of. I haven’t met him yet, but from what Kieran told me after finding him in an empty lot this morning, he’s a big, goofy dog who looks like he’s half wolfhound and part who-knows-what.”
“You’re adopting a stray that you don’t know anything about?” Monica asked.
“Kieran said he’s pretty friendly. And just for the record, he’ll live on the Leaning L. That’s where we’ll be taking him—after I meet him, of course.”
After promising Monica that they’d talk more later, Dana disconnected the line and went to greet her family.
* * *
Kieran had never been a dog person, but a promise was a promise. After picking up Rosie, who’d had the time of her life spending the night with Elaine and Mikey, he’d driven to her school to look for Teddy. And sure enough, they found him.
The big mutt ran right up to Rosie as if she was his long lost littermate. As she hugged him tightly, in spite of his dirty fur, he placed a big sloppy kiss on her face.
It was going to be difficult to say no to this child, which was why he’d placed several calls until he found a groomer that was open on Sundays. After dropping off Teddy for a much-needed bath and clipping, they’d gone to Pet Depot and purchased a collar, leash, food and a bed.
Teddy looked like a brand-new dog when they picked him up, and now he rode in the back of Kieran’s Mercedes to Dana’s house, panting and thumping his tail against the seat.
After pulling into Dana’s driveway and shutting off the ignition, Kieran scanned the well-kept yard and cozy house. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he’d finally come home.
“Can I hold Teddy’s leash?” Rosie asked.
The dog had been so rambunctious after being caged at the groomers that he would probably knock her off her feet.
“I’ll tell you what,” Kieran said. “Let’s ask Dana if she wants to take a walk with us. Then, after Teddy gets some of his energy out, you can hold on to him.”
“Okay. But don’t call her Dana. Her name is going to be Mommy now, remember?”
“You got it, sweetie.”
After they all got out of the car, including Teddy who’d nearly jerked Kieran’s arm out of the socket as he leaped to the ground, they headed to the front door.
“Mommy” met them with a warm smile before they reached the porch, and Rosie introduced her to Teddy.
“Hey,” Kieran said to Dana. “I know you’re riding with us to take Teddy to the ranch, but he’s going to need to take a little walk first. Would you like to join us for a trek around the neighborhood?”
“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend a Sunday afternoon with my family.”
Damn. He loved that woman.
“Then let’s go,” he said.
Dana reached for her key, which she left on a little hook near the door, and locked up the house. Then they headed down the quiet, tree-lined street, birds chirping, the sun shining.
He wasn’t sure how long they’d live at her house. That was up to Dana. But it didn’t matter. Home would always be wherever she was.
As they turned the corner and headed down another street, Kieran wondered who was happier—Teddy, Rosie, Dana or him. All he knew was that he had enough money to buy anything he’d ever wanted, yet nothing he’d ever wanted had fulfilled him like the woman who’d just slipped her hand into his.
“It’s going to be a beautiful day,” Dana said.
“It’s going to be a beautiful life,” he corrected.
She squeezed his hand and tossed him a loving smile.
“Can I hold on to Teddy now?” Rosie asked.
The dog had settled into a gentle walk, so Kieran passed the red leash to her, and they continued on their way.
The sun was warm and bright, and a cool spring breeze rustled in the treetops.
“Look,” Dana said softly. She pointed to Rosie’s shoulder, where a monarch butterfly had landed, its orange-and-black wings fluttering.
He was reminded of the butterfly at the funeral. It was almost as if Zach was letting him know that he’d cast his blessing on this new family.
At least, it seemed that way. And even though it might sound weird, Kieran chose to believe that’s exactly what was happening.
He pondered the fragile little butterfly that had once been a caterpillar. Just like its metamorphosis, something inside Kieran had changed, too. At one time, he’d feared fatherhood and marriage. But now, thanks to Dana, he couldn’t wait for their upcoming wedding, the tuxedoes and white lace, the promises they’d make—and the little flower girl who’d be a huge part of it all. And for their happy-ever-after to start.
For a guy who’d once been a dedicated bachelor, Kieran had turned over a new leaf. He couldn’t imagine his life without Dana and Rosie. In fact, he looked forward to the holidays, something he’d dreaded in the past, and to showering them with gifts of love.
Maybe there’d also be a new baby or two in the future.
He liked that idea. Liked it a lot. Because he couldn’t imagine love or family getting much better than this.
* * * * *
Don’t miss the next installment of the Harlequin Special Edition continuity THE FORTUNES OF TEXAS: THE SECRET FORTUNES
When Olivia Fortune Robinson and Alejandro Mendoza are forced to fake an engagement, will they be able to tell the difference between fantasy and reality when their pretend arrangement becomes an affair of the heart?
Look for FORTUNE’S SURPRISE ENGAGEMENT by Nancy Robards Thompson
Available soon, wherever Harlequin books and ebooks are sold.
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE PRINCESS PROBLEM by Teri Wilson.
Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!
Click here
to Join Harlequin My Rewards
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Special Edition story.
You know that romance is for life. Harlequin Special Edition stories show that every chapter in a relationship has its challenges and delights and that love can be renewed with each turn of the page.
Enjoy six new stories from Harlequin Special Edition every month!
Visit Harlequin.com to find your next great read.
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards & Instantly earn a FREE ebook of your choice.
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever & whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS.
Don’t miss out. Reward the book lover in you!
Register Today & Earn a FREE BOOK*
*New members who join before April 30th, 2017 will receive 2000 points redeemable for eligible titles.
Click here to register
Or visit us online to register at
http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010001
The Princess Problem
by Teri Wilson
“The pearl is the queen of gems and the gem of queens.”
Grace Kelly
Chapter One
It was the pearls that tipped Dalton off.
Dalton Drake knew a string of South Sea pearls when he saw one, even when those pearls were mostly hidden behind the crisp black collar of an Armani suit jacket. He stood in the doorway of his office, frowning at the back of the Armani-clad figure. The pearls in question were a luminous gold, just a shade or two darker than a glass of fizzy Veuve Clicquot. The rarest of the rare. Worth more than half the jewels in the glittering display cases of Drake Diamonds, the illustrious establishment where he currently stood. And owned. And ran, along with his brother, Artem Drake.
Dalton had grown up around pearls. They were in his blood, every bit as much as diamonds were. What he couldn’t figure out was why such a priceless piece of jewelry was currently draped around the neck of a glorified errand boy. Or why that particular errand boy possessed such a tiny waist and lushly curved figure.
Dalton had paid a small fortune for a private plane to bring someone by the name of Monsieur Oliver Martel to New York all the way from the royal territory of Delamotte on the French Riviera. What the hell had gone wrong? It didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t looking at a monsieur, the simple black men’s suit notwithstanding. Delicate, perfectly manicured fingertips peeked from beneath the oversized sleeves. Wisps of fine blond hair escaped the fedora atop her head. She lowered herself into one of the chairs opposite his desk with a feline grace that wasn’t just feminine, but regal. Far too regal for a simple employee, even an employee of a royal household.
There was an imposter in Dalton’s office, and it most definitely wasn’t the strand of pearls.
Dalton closed the door behind him and cleared his throat. Perhaps it was best to tread lightly until he figured out how a royal princess from a tiny principality on the French Riviera had ended up on Fifth Avenue in New York. “Monsieur Martel, I presume?”
“Non. Je suis désolé,” the woman said in flawless French. Then she squared her shoulders, stood and slowly turned around. “But there’s been a slight change of plans.”
Dalton should have been prepared. He’d been researching the Marchand royal family’s imperial jeweled eggs for months. Dalton was nothing if not meticulous. If pressed, he could draw each of the twelve imperial eggs from memory. He could also name every member of the Marchand family on sight, going back to the late 1800s, when the royal jeweler had crafted the very first gem-encrusted egg. Naturally, he’d seen enough photographs of the princess to know she was beautiful.
But when the woman in his office turned to face him, Dalton found himself in the very rare state of being caught off guard. In fact, he wasn’t sure it would have been at all possible to prepare himself for the sight of Her Royal Highness Princess Aurélie Marchand in the flesh.
Photographs didn’t do her beauty justice. Sure, those perfectly feminine features could be captured on film—the slightly upturned nose, the perfect bow-shaped lips, the impossibly large eyes, as green as the finest Colombian emerald. But no two-dimensional image could capture the fire in those eyes or the luminescence of her porcelain skin, as lovely as the strand of pearls around her elegant neck.
A fair bit lovelier, actually.
Dalton swallowed. Hard. He wasn’t fond of surprises, and he was even less fond of the fleeting feeling that passed through him when she fixed her gaze with his. Awareness. Attraction. Those things had no place in his business life. Or the rest of his life, for that matter. Not anymore.
“A change of plans. I see that.” He lifted a brow. “Your Highness.”
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “So you know who I am?”
“Indeed I do. Please have a seat, Princess Aurélie.” Dalton waited for her to sit, then smoothed his tie and lowered himself into his chair. He had a feeling whatever was coming next might best be taken sitting down.
There was a large black trunk at the princess’s feet, which he assumed contained precious cargo—the imperial eggs scheduled to go on display in the Drake Diamonds showroom in a week’s time. But there was no legitimate reason why Aurélie Marchand had delivered them, especially after other transport had been so painstakingly arranged.
Coupled with the fact that she was dressed in a man’s suit that was at least three sizes too big, Dalton sensed trouble. A big, royal heap of it.
“Good. That makes things easier, I suppose.” She sat opposite him and removed her fedora, freeing a mass of golden curls.
God, she’s gorgeous.
Sitting down had definitely been a good call. A surge of arousal shot through him, as fiery and bright as a blazing red ruby. Which made no sense at all. Yes, she was beautiful. And yes, there was something undeniably enchanting about her. But she was dressed as a royal bodyguard. The only thing Dalton should be feeling right now was alarmed. He sure as hell shouldn’t be turned on.
Stick to business. This is about the eggs.
Dalton inhaled a fortifying breath. He couldn’t recall a time in his entire professional life when he’d had to remind himself to stick to business. “Do explain, Your Highness.”
“Don’t call me that. Please.” She smiled a dazzling smile. “Call me Aurélie.”
“As you wish.” Against every instinct Dalton possessed, he nodded his agreement. “Aurélie.”
“Thank you.” There was a slight tremble in her voice that made Dalton’s chest hurt for some strange reason.
“Tell me, Aurélie, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from a member of the royal family?” He tried not to look at her crazy costume, but failed. Miserably.
“Yes, well...” There was that tremble in her voice again. Nerves? Desperation? Surely not. What did a royal princess have to feel desperate about? “In accordance with the agreement between Drake Diamonds and the monarchy of Delamotte, I’ve delivered the collection of the Marchand imperial eggs. I understand your store will be displaying the eggs for fourteen days.”
Dalton nodded. “That’s correct.”
“As I mentioned, there’s been a slight change of plans. I’ll be staying in New York for the duration of the exhibit.” Her delicate features settled into a regal expression of practiced calmness.
Too calm for Dalton’s tas
te. Something was wrong here. Actually, a lot of things were wrong. The clothes, the sudden appearance of actual royalty when he’d been dealing with palace bureaucracy for months, the notable absence of security personnel...
Was he really supposed to believe that a member of the Marchand royal family had flown halfway across the world with a trunkful of priceless family jewels without a single bodyguard in tow?
And then there was the matter of the princess’s demeanor. She might be sitting across from him with a polite smile on her face, but Dalton could sense something bubbling beneath the surface. Some barely contained sense of anticipation. She had the wild-eyed look of a person ready to throw herself off the nearest cliff.
Why did he get the awful feeling that he’d be expected to catch her if something went wrong?
Whatever she was up to, he didn’t want any part of it. For starters, he had more important things to worry about than babysitting a spoiled princess. Not to mention the fact that whatever was happening here was in strict violation of the agreement he’d made with the palace. And he wasn’t about to risk losing the eggs. Press releases had been sent out. Invitations to the gala were in the mail. This was the biggest event the Drake Diamonds flagship store had hosted since it opened its doors on Fifth Avenue back in 1940.
“I see.” He reached for the phone. “I’ll just give the palace a call to confirm the new arrangements.”
“I’d rather you didn’t.” Aurélie reached to stop him, placing a graceful hand on his wrist.
He narrowed his gaze at her. She was playing him. That much was obvious. What he didn’t know was why.
He leaned back in his chair. “Aurélie, why don’t you tell me exactly why you’re here and then I’ll decide whether or not to make that call?”
“It’s simple. I want a holiday. Not as a princess, but as a normal person. I want to eat hot dogs on the street. I want to go for a walk in Central Park. I want to sit on a blanket in the grass and read a library book.” Her voice grew soft, wistful, with just a hint of urgency. “I want to be a regular New Yorker for these few weeks, and I need your help doing so.”