A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE
Magic and Love 3
Morgan Ashbury
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE
Magic and Love 3
Copyright © 2008 by Morgan Ashbury
ISBN: 1-60601-012-3
First E-book Publication: February 2008
Cover design by Jinger Heaston
All cover art and logo copyright © 2008 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
This is to my Sonja.
Not a daughter of my body,
but a daughter of my heart.
Morgan Ashbury
A PRINCE FOR SOPHIE
Magic and Love 3
Morgan Ashbury
Copyright © 2008
Prologue
“Music and laughter make such a lovely symphony, don’t they, Eugenia?”
Eugenia smiled over at her sister, whose comment echoed exactly her own thoughts. They were floating, unseen, in the corner of the music room. The family had gathered for an impromptu celebration in honor of the just announced engagement of Princess Rachel of Boisdemer to Peter Jones. Michael, Rachel’s oldest brother, had chosen a selection of light rock music to play on the sound system while Alex had ordered champagne.
“Indeed they do. I must say, I’m feeling better than I have in a long, long time.”
“It’s because that nice young Peter Jones said he believed in us, and we didn’t even have to suggest it to him.”
Eugenia narrowed her eyes as she observed Alex and Hannah, who both pretended not to be ignoring each other.
“Well, Gwendolyn, two down and two to go, though I must say if our plan doesn’t work with those older ones I don’t know what we’ll do! Perhaps this is why we usually provide our services only for the young.”
“Oh, piffle.”
Gwendolyn’s uncharacteristic response startled her sister.
“Piffle?” Eugenia asked, sounding out the word carefully.
“Yes, piffle. These two are more deserving of our help than most of those coquettes and do-nothings we aided in the past.” Then she sighed. “Although they are proving to be quite a challenge.”
“They are indeed.” Eugenia then focused her attention on the king’s eldest daughter, Sophie. Her bearing was regal, her long black hair fashioned in an elegant chignon. Even as a child, Eugenia remembered fondly, Princess Sophie had been dainty and lady-like, always the proper princess. And those traits had only grown over the years. Her Highness never left her suite without being perfectly turned out. She was the epitome of a well-bred gentlewoman. Before her elder brother had married, she’d proven herself a talented chatelaine in managing the royal household, too.
“She deserves to be a Queen,” Eugenia said aloud.
“Hannah?”
“Well yes, of course Hannah. But I was thinking of Sophie. It’s just too bad that there are no Crown Princes available.”
“But Eugenia, you know that’s not so! As a matter of fact, one is arriving in a few days. He’s one of Philip’s groomsmen.”
“Him? Oh, no, he’ll never do for our Sophie. No, never.”
“But Eugenia,” Gwendolyn opened her hands and a book appeared. “Look, see? It’s even written down, right here in the Book!”
Eugenia scowled as she gave the Book only a passing glance. “To use your word, Gwendolyn, piffle. That one certainly doesn’t deserve to even be in the same room as our Sophie. Why, the very idea!”
“I rather like him, myself. He’s a good boy.”
“A good boy? That one is a rake-hell and a wastrel, if ever I saw one.”
Eugenia turned her attention back to the party. Seeing the two betrothed couples so obviously in love lifted her spirits. Sparing another glance at the older couple, she returned to contemplating Sophie. She folded her arms, her resolve strong. Her Sophie would be a Queen. It would just take a little creativity.
Everything would turn out to be a happily-ever-after for everyone, if it took every ounce of magic she possessed.
Chapter 1
“My God, now she is beautiful.”
“Which one?”
His Royal Highness Crown Prince Stephan of Montgermane turned his head slightly, flashing a quick smile at his friend groom-to-be Philip de la Croix. He waived his hand toward the women gathered by the front pew of the Royal Chapel, awaiting the commencement of the wedding rehearsal. “All of them of course, my friend, but I was especially looking at that tall woman with black hair and violet eyes. She looks beautiful and untouchable at the same time.”
“It has been a long time since you’ve visited us. The lady is both beautiful and untouchable. That’s Sophie.”
“That is the Ice Princess?” The question had escaped his lips before he remembered whom he was talking to. He winced and shot Philip an apologetic look. “Sorry. I meant no offence to your sister.”
“No offence taken. I had heard some were calling her that. The really sad thing is I can understand why. Ah, there’s my Kate. Excuse me.”
Stephan could only shake his head at how besotted the man was. Of course, Philip’s brother, Michael, was the same with his Helene. The two de la Croix men, it would seem, had each found that one woman who was everything to them. It hadn’t happened for Stephan yet. Some wondered if it ever would. He himself rarely considered the matter. There were, as far as he was concerned, far too many lovely ladies in the world to limit himself to just one—though he did manage to restrict himself to one at a time. He would never divulge the truth that there hadn’t even been one for more than a year. Neither had there been nearly as many as the gossip hounds would have the reading public believe. The paparazzi of the world seemed enamored of believing him involved with every woman he spoke to. Stephan smiled when he considered that the only person who resented his press-bestowed moniker of ‘the playboy prince’ was his mother.
He focused his attention back on Sophie. She’d not been present earlier when he’d arrived and been welcomed by the family in the solarium. He’d been too entranced meeting Philip’s fiancée and her utterly charming family for her absence to have registered. As he watched, the two children he had met earlier, the son and the niece of Philip’s fiancée, Catharine, ran up to Sophie, each grabbing one of her hands. They pulled her away from the other women, and were chattering excitedly.
Gracefully lowering herself to a crouch, she put herself on eye-level with the pair.
Ah, you don’t look so untouchable now. In fact she looked soft and sweet. She was the sister of two of his best friends in the world, one of whom had just mildly warned him away from her. So he wouldn’t go after her, but he couldn’t help but wonder what Sophie de la Croix tasted like.
She turned her head slightly and looked directly at him. Her gaze became cold, instantly and impla
cably. He nearly shivered from the frost of it. Then she turned her attention back to the kids. He had the impression that he’d been summarily dismissed, as if he were of no consequence.
Well, now. Friendly warnings aside, he couldn’t let such an implicit challenge go unmet.
He directed his footsteps toward her, his timing impeccable, arriving just as the children ran off. He extended his hand to help her to her feet.
He smiled, knowing she was too well bred not to take the assistance offered—especially in front of so many people. She placed her hand in his, rising quickly to her feet. Before she could withdraw, he closed his grip and brought her hand to his lips, placing a lingering kiss there. The entire time, he kept his gaze riveted to hers, pouring as much heat as he could muster into his expression. When she looked away, he felt the satisfaction of knowing he’d made his point.
Choosing an intimate tone to match his look he said, “Your Highness, how nice to see you again.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Welcome to Boisdemer.”
He smiled, despite the fact that her ‘welcome’ had sounded more like ‘go away’. “Your family welcomed me earlier, but now I feel truly well-received.”
“I’m ever so happy to have been of service, then.”
He wouldn’t have thought it was possible for her back to become any stiffer or her bearing any more forbidding. Sophie was proving herself to be a champion of the royal brush-off. He admired the talent, as it was one his mother tapped on occasion, and one which he’d failed, so far, to emulate. He still held her hand, and was well aware of her steady pull in trying to break free. That of course would never do. Unable to resist, he leaned forward just slightly, stroking her palm with his index finger.
“Oh, you haven’t begun to be of service yet, little one, but I can absolutely guarantee that when you have, we will both be very happy—and very satisfied.”
The flash of her eyes screamed indignation, yet the rosy color deepening on her cheeks told him something else again. He released her hand, and waited to see what she would do. He admired her composure. She neither created a scene, nor cowered away from him. Instead, a mantel of formality seemed to wrap around her as she tilted her head up a few degrees and to one side.
“Your mother, Queen Margaret, is well?”
“She is, thank you.”
“You have a younger brother, as I recall. I’m sure Queen Margaret is quite proud of him.”
That was the most skillfully delivered insult he’d ever received. He wanted to laugh out loud. There was nothing icy about the look in Sophie’s eyes now. He’d roused her temper, and it was a hot one. Seeing it begged the question of what other of her responses would be hot.
“You can ask her opinion of her sons the day after tomorrow. She and my father are arriving for the wedding, and will be staying for a few days, to visit with King Alexandre. I had planned only a short visit myself. But I do believe I shall extend my stay.”
“Delightful.”
That one word sounded like a vile curse. Oh, she was good. “I’m so glad you approve, little one. A few extra days should give me plenty of opportunity to get to know you better.”
“I’m certain my country can provide you with far more exciting diversions for your entertainment than I can offer. As a matter of fact, I’ll suggest to Michael that he take a personal interest in your itinerary.”
“Oh, I can think of nothing more exciting than getting into your…head, Your Highness.”
He had to believe that at least a little bit of her reaction, her eyes widening as she finally took one step back and her cheeks turning even redder, had to be attributable to a sensual awareness of him.
“If you will excuse me, Your Highness, I’m being negligent in my duties as bridal attendant. I need to go see to them now.”
The sudden retreat took him by surprise. Still, she’d held on to her poise, despite her extreme irritation with him. Rather than an ice princess, Sophie de la Croix appeared to be a woman of deep passion.
He suddenly was quite intent on tasting the lovely Princess Sophie. The sooner, the better.
* * * *
The nerve of that man! Sophie stalked over to stand beside her sister, Rachel, joining the circle that surrounded the bride-to-be, Catharine.
She tried to focus her attention on female conversation, but was still simmering from her encounter with Stephan Benet. She had heard vague rumors about his wastrel life style. She would die before she admitted to anyone that she’d seen his exploits reported in various European newspapers. They called him the playboy prince, and from what she had read, the man must have the stamina of a bull and a revolving door on his bedroom.
That thought exploded into full-blown, colorful images, and Sophie felt her face heating in shame. She needed to close Stephan out of her thoughts immediately. Besides, he had only flirted with her because she was the sole unattached female of legal age in the vicinity.
She turned her attention back to the important business at hand. The day after tomorrow, her younger brother was going to be married.
This was, she mused, the largest collection of women she’d ever been a part of. The amazing thing was that she did feel as if she belonged. She already loved her soon-to-be sister-in-law. Catharine was warm and loving, a good mother, and a welcome addition to the family. She had only just met Catharine’s sister-in-law, Pam, two days before when the rest of the Jones family had arrived. She liked them all. They would be doubly related since Sophie’s sister Rachel was going to marry Peter, Catharine’s brother and their own security chief, and if that wasn’t a perfect match, she didn’t know what was.
If she hadn’t determined years before that there would be no husband or children for her, she could almost be jealous of her siblings’ good fortune.
“No, really, Alex told mom she couldn’t leave the country unless she agreed to marry him!”
“They are so much in love,” Rachel added to Catharine’s summation. “It hurts my heart to see them not speaking.”
“Oh, my goodness.” Pamela turned so that she automatically included Sophie in the circle. Nurturing, caring and inclusion seemed to be second nature to these new relatives. Sophie gave her a smile she knew looked timid. She couldn’t help it. She’d been painfully uncomfortable with new acquaintances for as long as she could remember.
“I have never seen Papa as happy as he has been since meeting your mother-in-law,” Sophie added. “We can only hope they resolve this difficulty between them, soon.”
At just that moment, Hannah, with a hand held each by Jamie, Catharine’s son and Michelle, Pam’s daughter, came into the chapel. Sophie nearly laughed, because Catharine and Pam immediately looked guilty, and turned so that Hannah could not see their faces.
“So,” Catharine said brightly to Sophie. “I noticed the newly arrived heartthrob seemed quite taken with you.”
Sophie had to struggle not to let her discomfort show. She was very fond of Catharine, but the woman was far more frank in her conversation that she was used to. “I think he was taken with the fact that I am of the female persuasion,” she said, unable to stop her blush.
“Hmm, it would seem, from that color on your face, that you noticed he was of the male persuasion,” Catharine teased.
“Not at all. I actually found him rude and forward.”
She was saved from further potential embarrassment by the arrival of her father and Archbishop Drapeau, who would perform the marriage ceremony.
Sophie paid attention to the cleric as he gave a small homily about the importance of family in these modern times. She smiled when he frowned at Philip and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to ensure that Catharine visited her family overseas on a regular basis.
“A matter I wanted to broach. It would be fitting if the wedding ceremony was performed in both French and English. Will this be a problem, madame?” he asked Hannah.
“Heavens, no. We’re Canadian. We’re used to that.”
“W
onderful. Now, who is escorting the bride? I hesitate to say ‘give away the bride’ because so many of today’s brides are quite insistent that they are not property to be bestowed.”
Sophie laughed with everyone else, even as Craig, Catharine’s oldest brother, raised his hand.
“Now you sir, preceded by these lovely ladies, will come down the aisle and stop here, by the first pew. Not the lovely ladies, just you and the bride. Here, maman will kiss the bride’s cheek, as will His Majesty. Then sir, once you have placed your sister’s hand upon his royal highness’, you will be seated. Your Majesty, Madam Jones, you will come out from your seats, and each stand here, about four paces behind your individual child. Before the vows, you will walk together to light the candle, which is a symbol of the blending of two into one. Now, if the attendants will please line up, in order, we shall go over the ceremony.”
Sophie didn’t realize what had happened until Archbishop Drapeau beamed at them, his hands spread wide, telling them how wonderful they looked.
Catharine and Philip had chosen to have as simple a wedding as possible. In the annals of royal weddings, Sophie knew it would likely win the prize as being the smallest. There were only two attendants on each side, not counting the ring bearer and flower girl. Rachel, as maid of honor, would be escorted from the church, to the limousine, then from the car to the palace, and out onto the balcony by Peter, whom Philip had chosen as best man. That was sweet, all things considered. But it left Sophie with the realization of a harsh reality.
She looked over just in time to intercept a smug smile and cheeky wink. Wonderful. Her escort for the proceedings would be the Crown Prince of Montgermane.
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