The Cinderella Princess

by Melissa McClone

  “The stories are bizarre. The royal family has standards.”

  “Marguerite is the middle daughter of Mariposa’s king. She was educated in the United States, does charity work, and is pretty.”

  Luc’s gaze jerked up. “You saw her picture.”

  “In a peerage registry from a couple years ago.”

  His mouth twisted. “A lot can change in a couple of years.”

  “What are you afraid of?” Emily asked.

  He raised his chin. “Nothing.”

  She didn’t believe him. “Marguerite is traveling here to spend time with you, allowing her visit to be filmed for a television show, and deserves to be treated with respect.”

  “You sound like a queen.”

  “More like a Dowager Countess.” Emily smiled, hoping he’d relax. “I stream Downton Abbey if I need a break.”

  That brought a smile to his face.

  Emily straightened Luc’s tie. “Marguerite has a reputation of being somewhat of a wild child. I thought that might give you something in common given your penchant for partying.”

  “You put thought into this.”

  The other princesses who had agreed to second dates seemed more proper and a little—dare she say—boring. Luc needed someone with the same vitality and zest for fun. “I’ve tried.”

  “I’ll give Marguerite my full attention and be on my best behavior.”

  “Now let’s not go overboard,” Emily joked.

  Another smile appeared. “I’ll stop complaining.”

  “Good. I feel confident she’s a good choice for you.”

  Mischief gleamed in his eyes. “Care to put a wager on it?”

  “You mean a bet?”

  “Yes. If Marguerite turns out to be like any other European princess, you win, but if she’s at all…different, then I win.”

  “What’s at stake?”

  “Winner names the prize.”

  Tempting, especially if he meant… “Anything?”

  “You’re thinking about the foundation.”

  “Of course, I am.”

  “The foundation is included.” His tone challenged her. “Are you game?”

  Emily wasn’t a gambler. She preferred betting only when the odds were in her favor. They were tonight. And once she could show the princess Luc’s work with his foundation, she’d be able to help him plan a proposal before she left on Tuesday.

  “You’ve got yourself a bet, but you realize I’m going to win,” she said. “And you can’t back down when I do.”

  “The same goes if I win.”

  “The princess’s limousine’s here.” Dressed in white and wearing an earpiece, Brad peered into the dining room. “Get ready.”

  Emily’s nerve endings tingled with excitement. She walked to the drawing room where introductions would take place.

  Luc was at her side. His smile wavered.

  She longed to reach out and give him a sign of support. He needed another princess or two to agree to a second date to up his odds of finding a fiancée.

  So what if she would rather be having dinner with Luc tonight? Or the thought of his date with yet another princess left her feeling unsettled?

  Emily straightened her black skirt and smoothed her white blouse. She couldn’t wait to see what the princess wore.

  Luc touched her shoulder.

  She jumped. “What?”

  “You’re the one who’s nervous.”

  “I’m excited to see how wonderful this works out. And win the bet.”

  “One day your confidence is going to get you into trouble.”

  She laughed. “Addie’s said the same thing.”

  “For being so confident, you’re tense.” He squeezed Emily’s shoulders, kneading the tight muscles.

  The tension seeped out. “You’re good at this.”

  “I have many skills.” His tone was playful and suggestive. He leaned closer, his breath against her neck. “And a few not so hidden ones.”

  A chill ran the length of her spine. Goosebumps formed on her arms. “I’m getting an idea about your…talents.”

  “Happy to show you more.”

  If only… Her heart pounded in her throat. “Save it for Princess Marguerite.”

  “Dinner dates are my specialty.”

  She thought about her first night at the villa. “Especially dessert.”

  He continued massaging. “I can bring you cookies and milk later. We’ll eat while you recite lines of Shakespeare.”

  Emily stiffened. “I thought I dreamed that.”

  His charming grin took her breath away. “No, but you looked dreamy.”

  If her muscles weren’t bunched before, they were now.

  “Dylan put the microphone pack on the princess. They’re on the move,” Brad called out. “Position yourself.”

  “That’s my cue to fade into the background.” Emily moved toward the terrace where she would watch, but be out of the way.

  Luc fiddled with his microphone pack. “Wish me luck.”

  She flashed an encouraging smile. “You don’t need luck. She’ll love you.”

  A flash of brilliant colors, almost like a painting or tapestry, appeared in the doorway.

  Emily hurried onto the terrace.

  Aldo, looking sharp in his butler’s uniform, stood by the doorway. “Her Royal Highness Princess Marguerite Beatrix Annamarie of Mariposa.”

  Emily held her breath in anticipation. This could be Luc’s future wife.

  Marguerite stepped into the drawing room.

  Huh? Emily did a double take. Leaned forward toward the drawing room window. Squinted.

  Oh, no. Her breath rushed out as if someone had punched her in the gut. A butterfly. The woman was dressed as a butterfly complete with wings and antennae. Was the intricate design on the princess’s face temporary or a permanent tattoo?

  Princess Marguerite whispered something to the butler.

  Aldo cleared his throat. “Also known as Princess Butterfly of Mariposa.”

  Luc glanced Emily’s way, a surprising grin on his face and victory in his eyes.

  Darn the man. She would have to concede defeat. But he must have had inside information. That was why he’d made the bet.

  Princess Marguerite curtsied, spreading her skirt and translucent shimmery wings. The bouncing antennae matched her rainbow-colored hair.

  Luc bowed. “Welcome, Your Highness. I hope you will enjoy tonight.”

  “And you, Your Highness.”

  He extended his arm, smiled. “Such an elaborate and colorful show of national pride.”

  Taking his hand, Marguerite beamed. “I do my best. My mother felt face paint might provide more options. She worried a tattoo might be too limiting in color schemes.”

  Not permanent. Thank goodness. Emily placed her hand over her pounding heart.

  The princess looked up at Luc. “What do you think?”

  His smile widened. “The queen of Mariposa is not only beautiful like her daughter, but intelligent too.”

  Marguerite’s sigh could be heard outside.

  Good job, Luc. Emily watched with a mix of fascination and a touch of regret. She shook off the latter emotion.

  “I hear you’re looking for a wife,” Marguerite said. “My father is offering a large dowry to compensate for my well…”

  “Lovely butterfly-ness,” Luc offered.

  Marguerite laughed. “Yes. The men aren’t lining up outside the castle to ask for my hand.”

  “Their loss.”

  “Could be your gain…”

  The words hung in the air. Emily wondered what Luc’s answer would be and why she felt a sudden sense of dread.

  *

  After Marguerite left, Luc knocked on Emily’s bedroom door. She’d disappeared during his date, and he’d decided dessert to celebrate his victory was in order and let her know he’d be collecting on his bet soon.

  No answer, but he heard someone in the room.

  He knocked again.
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  “Not right now.” Emily’s voice sounded raw.

  “It’s Luc.”

  “I-I…”

  Something was going on. He opened the door.

  The linen had been stripped from her bed. She was on the floor, clawing through the sheets. Her eyes gleamed. The always in-control, professional and practical ad exec looked as if she’d lost her best friend.

  Luc placed the tray with éclairs on the closest table. “Emily?”

  “I can’t find her.”

  He kneeled by her side. “Who?”

  “Miss Mousie.” Emily sniffled. “I’d left her on the bed this morning, but when I came back tonight she was gone. I know she’s just an old, dirty stuffed animal…”

  “She’s important to you. That’s what matters.” Her vulnerability tugged at Luc’s heart. He pulled her against him, brushed his lips across her hair. “We’ll find her. I’ve located tiny doll shoes and action figure lightsabers. A stuffed cat will be easier to find.”

  “I’ve gone through the sheets. Looked under the bed.” She hiccupped. “Checked everywhere.”

  Luc caressed her face. A warm tear wet his fingertip. He held her closer, felt the beat of her heart, wished he could make this better for her. “Did you check the laundry room?”

  She straightened, looked up at him. “No. I thought she had to be in here.”

  “The housekeeper could have changed the linen and not seen her.”

  “That…” Emily blinked. “That makes total sense. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.”

  She was too worried and upset to think logically, and Luc liked seeing this all-too-human side of her. He helped Emily to her feet. “Let’s see if Miss M is there.”

  “Thanks, but I can do this myself.”

  “You could,” he agreed. “But then I wouldn’t get an éclair when you returned to your room. I know how much you like chocolate. There’s no way you’ll save one for me. They’re that good. So I’m coming with you.”

  Gratitude filled Emily’s gaze, made him feel important and stand taller.

  Twenty minutes later, after searching through baskets of dirty and clean laundry, Luc found Miss Mousie in a tangle of freshly washed pillowcases and sheets.

  He handed the stuffed animal to Emily. “Miss M looks a little whiter.”

  “Smells better, too.” Emily held the stuffed cat to her heart. “Thanks.”

  Her smile brought unfamiliar peace. “Ready for an éclair?”

  “Yes, but there’s something I want first.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  The contact sent an explosion of sensation bursting through him. He wrapped both his arms around her. She went willingly against him. Moving her hips slightly and sending his temperature soaring.

  Her lips moved over his. Familiar from the first kiss, but something felt different. Tongues danced, twisting and tangling.

  She wove her fingers through his hair, arched against him.

  A fire burned in his gut. “Emily…”

  Forget the éclairs. He’d been searching for a princess, but Cinderella was right here in his arms. She might not be royal, but that didn’t matter. Emily’s sweet taste was the only thing that would satisfy him. She was all he wanted, all he needed tonight.

  *

  Fireworks didn’t begin to describe the sensations pulsating through Emily with each of Luc’s kisses. If Emily didn’t stop kissing Luc, she wasn’t going to be able to stop. Why had she kissed him?

  Gratitude. That had been one reason. The others she didn’t want to think about. His kisses were better than any dream.

  Uh-oh, she was still kissing him. Emily drew back. Afraid to meet Luc’s gaze, she plumped a squished Miss Mousie. “I’m tired. I should get to bed. You’re more than welcome to the éclairs.”

  “Look at me.”

  She did.

  “Your kiss is tastier than any chocolate,” he said.

  Her heart melted. Her tongue felt too sizes too big. “Ditto.”

  That was the only word she didn’t think she’d mangle.

  The rich sound of his laughter made her want to invite him to her room, and not for dessert. At least not the one he’d brought.

  Luc ran his fingertip along her jawline. “What am I going to do about you?”

  Kiss her again. No, wrong answer. Emily couldn’t let the situation get out of control or do something unprofessional. Though kissing the show’s star in search of a wife wouldn’t earn her an Employee of the Month Award.

  “You don’t need to do anything about me,” she said. “I was thanking you for finding Miss Mousie. That’s all.”

  Liar.

  But she couldn’t say she liked being with him. Talking, touching, kissing. Or how he’d made her feel not so alone and desperate tonight. Or a million other little things.

  He grinned. “Perhaps you’ll misplace her again.”

  Emily felt trapped in a box canyon, the only exit blocked by a stampeding herd of cattle. She needed to get away from Luc before she said or did something she would regret. “I’ll let you know if I do. Goodnight.”

  Self-preservation sent Emily bolting from the laundry room as if she was trying to outrun the cows. She thought Luc might have laughed before he said goodnight. But she wasn’t about to glance back and see.

  She couldn’t. Even if a part of her wanted to. Badly.

  *

  The next morning, Emily sat in the villa’s library, laptop open, tablet on, and cellphone at her ear. Her boss in San Diego had put her on hold, not caring that she was in Italy and he’d been the one to call after midnight San Diego time.

  She’d been awake most of the night, thinking about Luc. Eating the two éclairs he’d left in her room had been almost as stupid as kissing him.

  So what if he’d found her stuffed kitty? She wasn’t a kid, even if she’d been acting like one. But spending her days with a real life prince who treated her like she was a Disney princess wasn’t easy. Just this morning, she’d found herself humming One Day My Prince Will Come when she showered.

  That was something Addie would have done before marrying Nick. Not Emily.

  Luc had kissed several princesses at the end of their first dates. He liked to kiss women. She’d known that before meeting him. No reason to think their kisses meant anything other than two pairs of lips coming together.

  She stared at the phone. Where was Don?

  Luc peered in from the doorway. “Almost finished.”

  “Soon, I hope.”

  His hair swung over his face, making her wish she could push it back. She fought the urge to groan.

  “Meet me at my special spot when you’re finished,” he said.

  She had no idea what he wanted. Probably make plans for his second dates. “Be there as soon as I can.”

  Another minute passed. Silence filled the phone.

  “I’m back.” Don sounded not the least bit apologetic. Typical for her boss. “Every two-bit country and principality in Europe has a monarchy, yet Prince Luc has wasted a month of filming. Brad should be fired.”

  “Don’t blame Brad or Prince Luc.” Emily kept her voice calm. She’d worked for Don since she graduated from San Diego State University and was the one even Kevin Franks, the other founding partner, turned to during Don’s tantrums. “Kendra hired the show’s so-called royalty consultant. Turns out she’s one of your wife’s sorority sisters who runs a gossip blog.”

  Don coughed. “I’ll speak to my wife.”

  Lip service. He would say nothing. Kendra wore the pants in that relationship. Don was her yes-man with a titanium credit card that had no spending limit.

  “We’re finally making progress.” Emily gave a quick rundown, leaving out a few incidents, preferring to focus on those who’d agreed to second dates. “The final first date is today, then Luc begins the second dates. All the plans will be in place when I leave on Tuesday.”

  “Stay there.”

  She readjusted the phone at her ear. “
What did you say?”

  “Stay in Lake Como and see the filming through to the end.”

  “I have the energy drink presentation on Wednesday.” Bringing in that account would bring millions to the firm and be the final tally mark she needed to be promoted to partner.

  “Your presentation is excellent. Clint can handle it.”

  Clint Wallingford was Kendra’s younger brother, an idiot who floated from account to account to keep his incompetence from causing too much damage.

  “No.” Emily didn’t think she’d ever said that word to her boss, but she didn’t care. Too much was riding on bringing in the new account. “I’ve spent months cultivating the relationship. I’ve worked non-stop on the presentation.”

  “You need to be a team player.”

  “I have been. But you told me last summer the only thing holding me back from being named a partner was bringing in a larger account. This is my chance.”

  “The show needs you.”

  Translation: Kendra needed her.

  Too bad. Emily needed a promotion so she wouldn’t have to deal with being assigned to idiotic projects like this one. That gave her an idea. One that could backfire, but if Don agreed… “I’ll stay and see the show to the end, if you promise I’ll be named a partner when I return.”

  Silence greeted her on the opposite end of the phone.

  She tapped her toes against the carpet, pressed her lips together to keep from saying a word.

  “What if you don’t find Prince Luc a fiancée?” Don asked.

  “Then I don’t deserve the promotion, but if he finds one…” Emily held her breath.

  “Fine,” Don said. “If the prince presents a fiancée at the palace, you’ll be made a partner when you get back. If he doesn’t, you won’t see a promotion for at least two years. Deal?”

  Air rushed from her lungs. She pumped her fist. She couldn’t fail because of the foundation, but getting a promotion would be a dream come true. One she’d been working toward since she joined the firm seven years ago. “Yes, it’s a deal.”

  Chapter Eight

  ‡

  Luc stood on the lake’s shore. Golden yellow, red and pink streaks colored the morning sky like a watercolor painting. Lake Como and this villa were as close to being magical places, as he’d found.