"Yes." Kristin went to the wine cooler. "He listed off my resume and personal information. It seems like I would benefit from the deal. I should have insisted that a secretary application wasn't a prescription for finding a wife. I feel so foolish now."
"Pour some wine for both of us and we'll talk all about how you should be a princess." Being best friends with royalty who'd interact with the hot playboy prince would give Renee a shot at a dream—these days, Marco figured prominently. "And I can be a princess's best friend." Daydreams like this often made the boring reality of her day-to-day more palatable.
Once Kristin was done pouring, she brought the bottle to the table. "Yeah, I've not been anyone's princess since my father walked out on my mother when I was eight. When he returned home six months later, neither of them was happy. They never really conversed again. You have no idea what it's like to grow up knowing your parents hate each other while they sit right next to you and speak through you."
No, she had no idea. Kristin handed her a glass of wine. Her parents were like those people on TV who live and love living in the suburbs. They hadn't understood when she’d moved to the city, and they'd not know what to do if she brought home a prince.
Renee clicked her glass with her friend and sipped. "Well, that was depressing. So let's lighten up, and you can tell me if he's as hot in real life as he is in your photos."
Kristin took a small drink and sat with her elbow on the table. "Renee, he's hotter. TV and photos...I don't know...make him somehow blander. He's sexy in such a raw powerful way that I was shaken up. I wasn't kidding—I almost said yes to his marriage proposal on the spot."
Antonio was the serious family member that Kristin dug. If Marco's dimples were even hotter in person, she might just offer to throw her clothes off and let him have her. And yes her fantasy was out of control today. "What exactly made you say 'you'd think about it?'"
Kristin swallowed her wine, emptying her glass. "Self-preservation kicked in."
"What are you talking about?"
Kristin lifted her chin. "Despite how attractive he is, I want love to be at least part of why I get married which is utterly stupid as I don’t believe the emotion even exists."
Renee scoffed. "Then marry Greg in our building. He's clearly in love with you, if that's what you want."
"No, I'm not into him at all."
Just then the doorbell rang. She put the glass down. Tonight was Renee's turn to pay. "That's the pizza! Can you get the door while I go find my pocketbook for the tip?"
"It's my turn to pay," Kristin insisted.
Renee stopped. Perhaps she'd bought last night. Kristin raced into the kitchen.
Renee walked to the door, swung it open and stared into deep brown eyes. Wow. This was the prince that made her friend's heart stir. If he’d seriously asked Kristin to marry him, then she needed to say yes. Now. Renee crossed her arms. "Nice to meet you, Your Highness."
"I'm looking for Kristin Wells." He took a small step closer, trying not to be obvious as he peered in.
Renee held the door wider and said, "I'm hoping she says yes."
Antonio Aussa, the older brother of her celebrity crush, raised his eyebrows, but followed her inside.
A moment later, Kristin walked out and stared at Prince Antonio.
"You didn't tell me that the prince was..." Renee began but realized neither one of them were listening.
"What?" Kristin asked and blinked though she never turned away from staring at Antonio.
"...coming." Renee finished and wondered how it would be to meet this man's younger, sexier brother. If only. For this one summer, she was free and it would be nice to see someone like Marco before she settled into the suburbs and raised children for a man her parents would go golfing with.
Kristin asked, "Your Highness, what are you doing here?"
Why hadn't her best friend dragged her almost fiancé into her bedroom? If their roles were switched, and it was Marco at the door, Renee would have, just for fun.
Her future required settling down to please her parents, if she wanted to be included in their circle, just as surely as her brother would marry a perfectly acceptable country club girl.
Antonio went toward her friend. "Kristin, I hope I'm not intruding."
Right, if her friend didn't want to take him to her room, it was Renee's turn to leave. She eyed her bedroom door. "I'll give you a few minutes and head to my room."
Renee closed the door behind her. What would the prince think of their simple apartment? The same boring cream paint was on all of the walls. She’d framed movie pictures for art but the décor was definitely teacher on a budget. Her phone dinged—the pizza was delayed, according to the app. Trying to give Kristin and the prince privacy in the small apartment, she turned her attention to Greg and sent him a text. He might not notice her, but perhaps one of his friends might be good enough to take home for the holidays or something. 'Greg, saw you at your car engine. Everything okay?'
'Yeah, I'm just changing the oil.' He texted back. 'I saw you and Kristin have a guy over.'
'Kristin has the guy, else I'd not be texting you at the moment.'
'Hope he's good enough for her.'
The zap of jealousy shouldn't exist. This was why she needed to keep her distance from Greg. 'I hope Kristin likes this one. She deserves to be happy. If you need anything, text.'
'Thanks.'
She’d covered plastic bins that she used as a dresser with scarves and now peered into the small mirror on top to fix her hair. Brown eyes stared back, the beginnings of fine lines at the corners.
Renee wasn't getting any younger, as her mother would say. And that voice echoed in her mind. One day she'd find her suburban husband who fixed her car and not think about Greg or anyone else.
She checked on the pizza and the driver was on their small street. She went toward the door and overheard Antonio tell her friend, "I was hoping you might accompany me. I'll give you a tour, take you to my favorite restaurant to get dinner. Show you my country."
Without a second thought, Renee twisted the knob and opened her door. Kristin would need her friend at her side.
"Can I come?" Renee's voice echoed through the apartment. Both of them stared at her in surprise.
Kristin called over his shoulder. "Renee, I thought you were giving us some privacy?"
Renee waved her phone in the air, reminding Kristin that they’d ordered pizza. But just in case Kristin didn’t want to divulge their plans, she gestured to the counter. "I was looking for my headphones."
Her phone beeped, a sixty second warning to go get the pizza, which would also give Kristin more time alone. Renee walked into the foyer area and grabbed her purse. "Your Highness, my friend Kristin gets scared of good things happening in her life. Her parents taught her to always look for security first. It robs her of spontaneity sometimes."
Kristin placed her hand on her chest. "No I don't."
Antonio stroked his chin. "Kristin, if it would make you happy, you and your friend, Renee, are welcome to join me in my private jet."
Yes! Renee opened the front door and backed out of the apartment. "Okay. Can we get ten minutes to pack? I’ll be right back…"
She closed the door on Antonio’s confused face and met the delivery guy at the curb. The pizza wasn't necessary anymore. She tipped anyhow and held the box in her hand.
Now what? Greg. She raced downstairs and knocked on Greg's door. He opened it without his shirt on. His slim figure would make whoever he married happy, but she had no time to gawk. She offered him the pizza. "We can't eat this and I thought you might be hungry."
"Really? Let me pay you for it."
"No. I have to go. We're leaving for a few days. Can you watch our door and check the mail?"
"No problem." Greg balanced the box on one palm. "Glad we're friends, Renee."
Friends. Right.
She rushed up the stairs and back inside the apartment. Antonio said, "Remember, the royal palace has everyth
ing you might possibly need."
Renee gave the thumbs up sign. "I'll be back in ten. I've never ridden in a private jet to Europe."
What would she pack? She was about to meet her celebrity crush. She found her bag and slipped in all her sexy underwear. Just in case. If Marco couldn’t be tempted, then she'd see the countryside, take pictures and do something completely unplanned: she wouldn’t think about her parents, or their expectations. This summer, she'd stay in a palace, encourage Kristin to be happy and build up a store of memories to keep her warm on a far off cold night as she lay next to some anonymous man like Greg.
Princes of Avce
Forbidden Crown
Forbidden Prince
Forbidden Royal
Forbidden Duke
Forbidden Earl
Forbidden Monsieur
Forbidden Royal Preview
With a sense of bemusement, Royal Prince Lucio Aussa of Avce read the slip of paper his older brother Antonio handed him in his private office and then rubbed his eyes and read it again just to make sure. "Amy Fields?" How on earth had the IT department matched him with Evie’s little sister? This had to be a joke.
Everyone in the family knew that when he’d been a teen, his mother had forbidden him from dating Evie Fields after she caught them in his bed. Now, with less than a year on the clock to find himself a wife, he'd agreed to let his brother have the Royal IT department scour the web for his perfect match, but Amy Fields couldn’t be it. Impossible.
His brother gave him the rest of the file along with her picture. He must have carried it in from his office down the hall. "I spoke to Mother the second I saw her name going to the top of the charts."
As a teenager, Amy’s older sister Evie had been Lucio’s entire world. She'd come into the library one morning as he’d studied History, demanding that he go out with her. In that brief time, she'd shown him, at fifteen, all about sex.
He remembered the ache in his chest when his mother forced him to choose between his family and his girlfriend and, of course, he’d sided with his family. Evie's tears when he’d broken up with her had haunted him at the time, though truthfully, he'd forgotten exactly what she looked like. Now her name was more the shield he wielded when his mother interfered with his life.
Amy's sweet face was clear in his memory. Pretty Evie had dark hair, right? While Amy’s was lighter, almost wheat-colored. Her big brown eyes, cautious behind brown-framed glasses and the shy smile when he spoke to her came back with clarity. He shook his head. "I thought I'd die losing Evie when we moved to Avce." Drama and angst as only a teen boy can feel.
His brother patted him on the back. "You were fifteen and she was your first. You've dated thousands since then."
Thousands sounded like too big of a number, but he wasn't counting. Beautiful women fascinated him, though he had little in common with any of them.
He studied the light blondish-brown hair and clear brown-eyed beauty in the picture. Nice curves beneath the cashmere sweater and designer jeans. He recognized the Ferris wheel in Hyde Park in the background of the photo, which meant Amy must still live in London. No. He put the photo down. "Evie's little sister cannot be the perfect bride."
Antonio pointed to the folder Lucio held. "Read the report. Her parents and ours are already in agreement, if that matters to you."
His hair bristled on his arms. "Not especially. Our mother once pushed Sophia toward you for marriage, and look how that turned out." Sophia Venko was now in jail waiting for her trial after trying to overthrow the Aussa family.
"Sophia’s parents want us to send her back to England as they are still deposed royals." Antonio’s lips curled.
"That's not going to happen." Lucio paced around his desk. So why had his mother, who had told him in no uncertain terms that Evie was not good enough, agreed to set Lucio up with her sister?
Was it the time clock? But he had a year… Maybe his memory was flawed. The buzz in his ear told him there was more and now he was curious. "Antonio..."
Antonio crossed his arms and leaned closer to explain. "Amy's parents want a chemical plant in Avce and feel that if they are family then Mom and Dad will give them the go ahead. Mom wants you to stay and be part of our family, which means you need a wife. From every account Amy outshines her sister." Antonio sat on the desk corner. "She majored in political science, works as an analyst, lives on her own in a nice part of London—and best of all, she’s not dating anyone."
Amy sounded great on a resume. There was no denying her beauty, but she was still Amy Fields. Tomboy, studious, glasses too big for her face. Her sweet smile stayed in perfect focus from years ago. "What happened to Evie?"
"Forget about her." Antonio dropped his arms and stood up, posture straight. "Evie is engaged to be married to a Scottish lord and family friend."
"Engaged?" At fifteen, she'd seemed like she had the secrets to life—wild, fun-loving and carefree. It was almost funny that she’d been tied down after all. While Evie had been daring, Amy had spent time in the library, surrounded by book stacks.
"Many of us never wanted to get married," Antonio shrugged, "and then we did. People change."
In college, and the years since, he'd had a penchant for finding beautiful, unsuitable, girls he'd never bring home as payback for his mother interfering so long ago. Now, according to Avce custom, he needed a wife or else he’d be banished. The idea of Amy appealed. Hopefully she wasn't whiny and still liked to read for enjoyment.
Antonio pointed to the manila envelope again. "I suggest you read this, meet with our parents, and hers. They are visiting and would love the contract for the cement plant signed, as well as a pre-nup. Then go meet Amy. She's not your usual type but that's probably a good thing."
He looked at the glossy photo. She’d ditched her glasses, and smiled with confidence. "I remember she was all skin and bones."
"She's grown up." Antonio patted the arm of Lucio’s black leather office chair. "The IT department found me Kristin and I'm forever grateful. What if all those years ago you should have met Amy instead of Evie? This could be the Universe’s way of correcting that mistake."
Her sister had been his first and that might present a problem. "You're becoming philosophical now that you're happily married." Lucio scoffed and steeled his spine. "Would you have married any of my ex-girlfriends if the computer told you she was the one for you?"
"I was desperate, so I don't know what I'd have done." Antonio's face went red, but he took a breath and continued, "I had a month left before I was thrown out of the family and I finally listened to the IT department. You have a year and you know about the law—I didn’t. Why don't you at least meet her face-to-face and then decide if she is or isn't the one? You still have some time."
Lucio dropped the folder to the desktop. "Fair enough. But first, I should clear the air with Evie—I’ll go in person to talk with her again." What would she be like fifteen years later?
"Good luck." Antonio walked toward the door.
Lucio opened the file to the first page, his gaze drawn to Amy’s smile. "Right now I've only agreed to meet her, nothing more, Antonio."
"I understand." His older brother lifted one hand in a wave. "See you."
Lucio sunk into his chair and flipped through the files to the back where there were more pictures. As he stared at Amy’s face, he looked for familiar nuances. He remembered in flashes that she’d been so quiet as she’d watched him. How she’d avert her attention when Evie joined him. Could he marry a timid mouse? The thought left him cold.
If he didn't marry, he'd lose his family. The law was the law. And the truth was, his brothers were happy on a toss of a dime. Lucio didn’t expect love, though whoever he married, he'd demand loyalty from as well as give.
Logically, cheating or keeping someone else in the background was too much work and he'd never harm the family name.
He went back to the beginning and read the brief description for the fifth time. At least on file, Amy Fields was
the perfect candidate. He picked up the phone to ready the private jet. If he married Amy, then her sister couldn't be an issue.
Princes of Avce
Forbidden Crown
Forbidden Prince
Forbidden Royal
Forbidden Duke
Forbidden Earl
Forbidden Monsieur
Forbidden Duke Preview
Donna Smith closed her eyes, took a deep breath and wished for a different life. Losing her job after everything else that had gone wrong? She opened her eyes. Here she still sat at her library desk, in her black chair, her desktop computer tuned to the news as she waited for the next axe to fall and this time on her neck.
Scandals, murders and rumor filled the page but the fourth story caught her eye. Royal Wedding of Lucio Aussa and Amy Fields—Guest List to Include the Queen of England. None of the Aussa princes had married royalty and Donna tried to imagine herself sharing a table while drinking tea with the Royal Family. What would they be like?
“Your turn, Donna.” Beth tapped her computer and drew Donna’s attention back to the dreaded now. “Good luck.”
As soon as she walked in that back office, the city commissioner was going to tell her she was out of a job. Unlike Beth, who had thirty years as a librarian, this would be the end for Donna. She stood, picked up her battered black Kate Spade bag and smiled at her friend. “Thanks, Beth.”
Beth winked and returned her attention to her own computer. The library still looked the same, except for the missing patrons. Once the employees were out, movers were scheduled to come, pack, and move the books to other libraries around the county.
Donna, nerves tight, opened the door to the small conference room and tried not to stare at the balding older man with the unnaturally bright smile. Her insides shook as she closed the door and took the seat opposite him. He adjusted his glasses and read a manila folder that had all her personal information in it. Once he was done, he focused on her. “Donna Smith, you’ve worked for this library for ten years as a full time librarian, and four as a part-time employee before that.”
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