by D. R. Grady
“Macy, what does he want with me?” She heard a choking sound. “Macy?”
“Don’t do that.” Macy gasped. Tia pictured her frantically waving a hand in front of her face.
“Don’t do what?”
“Tia, you’re nearly six feet tall, you have long blonde hair, gorgeous blue-green eyes, a perfect figure and a near genius IQ. I’d hate you if you weren’t my sister-in-law.” Macy sounded like she admitted some dark secret.
“So what does he want from me?”
“Scratch the near genius IQ,” Macy said, sounding exasperated. “Why’d you give him your number in the first place?”
“He caught me off guard.” Tia chewed on her lip. “Maybe I should just change my phone number.”
“You know, I used to think you were adopted, but you definitely have the Morrison family stupid gene.”
“I’m a scientist. I never do my hair, I’m allergic to makeup. Princess’s wear makeup, Macy. I wear comfortable, sloppy clothes. Why did he want my phone number?”
“I’ve heard, through the news, of course, that Prince Aleksi de Leos is easy going.”
“Of course he is. And his is only a principality. He doesn’t rule a country. But what he has, he has to rule.” Tia swallowed. She wasn’t princess material. Grace Kelly, movie star, used to Philadelphia society, was princess material. Tia Morrison, sister to three Apes, numerous cousins, and not involved in Hershey society at all made her anti-princess material.
She gulped. “Macy, I can’t do this. Maybe I’ll just flush my phone.”
“Flush your phone?” Macy sounded confused.
“I gave him my cell phone number.”
“And you were planning to move? Tia, I know you’re supposed to have a near genius intelligence. Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“Your intelligence. You have a Ph.D. in microbiology. You’re supposed to be smart.”
“A smart woman doesn’t give her phone number to a prince.” Panic encroached. Visions of pink danced in her head. “I can’t do this.” She rubbed her forehead and didn’t manage to squelch a moan.
“You’re insane,” Macy concluded succinctly.
***
“You asked some American woman for her phone number?” His mother’s voice held disdain, anger, and some definite attitude. Not that he hadn’t known how she’d react.
Aleksi sighed and briefly considered making an excuse to remove her from his office. Only the knowledge that he’d have to eventually deal with her kept him from running through the various excuses he kept filed in a corner of his brain for such emergencies.
“Mother, she’s an American, yes, but she’s far more than that.”
“How can she be far more than that, you’ve only just met her. You can’t possibly know anything about her.”
“That’s not true,” he said, recognizing some attitude of his own. That tone usually quelled her, a bit.
“It isn’t?” She eyed him with suspicion. He wasn’t intimidated by her regal air, her perfect hair and makeup, or the expensive clothing she wore. She had birthed him after all. And while she’d been royalty before his father had met her, she was only minor royalty.
“No, it isn’t. Tia Morrison has a near genius IQ, she’s beautiful, has perfect manners, and is a microbiologist.” He didn’t mention that she was so sexy she made his teeth hurt and that she had the funniest quirks. Like not being able to walk without tripping or knocking something over.
His last comment temporarily stopped his mother’s rampage against this American woman. “A microbiologist, you say?” She slanted him a look of hope.
“Yes. She was several years behind me at the University of Pennsylvania. She went on to earn her Ph.D. in microbiology at Princeton.”
His mother sniffed. “That’s probably the closest thing to a prince she’s ever been.”
Again, he stifled a sigh. Even though she was his mother, he managed to grow tired of her rather fast these days. “She took some of the same classes I attended. I was a senior when she was a freshman. She managed to sail through the classes as though she was a senior.”
His mother frowned. The lines didn’t mar the smooth lines of her face. “She was permitted to take senior level courses while a freshman?”
“Yes. She didn’t struggle with the classes, either and one of them was grueling. Business law I think. It was a difficult course.”
Aleksi smiled as he thought of the young Tia. Her hair had been as long then as it was now. She’d been rifling through her notes, trying to locate an answer for another student.
The student had commented on how difficult the class was and she’d stared blankly at him. She had no idea the other student had been interested in her. Nor had it occurred to her that the class was hard. Tia had shaken her head and said this was her easiest class. Her innocence hadn’t been faked, nor the naiveté that still clung to her.
He’d been intrigued by Tia then, but now that he met her again after all these years she had become a near obsession. More beautiful, more poised, and an accomplished microbiologist now, he barely refrained from kissing her when he stumbled onto her at a professional microbiological conference he attended out of desperation. She came close to knocking him over but he could overlook that, of course.
“She’s the perfect solution,” he told his mother.
She stared at him, and he could almost feel her weighing his comments. Like they had anything to lose.
“I don’t know,” she said and continued to stare at him. He’d learned long ago to ignore her laser eyes.
He raised a brow. “You have a better solution?”
“Well, no,” she hedged and he saw her cheeks tinge with pink.
“That’s what I thought,” he said. They only had one solution and she came encased in a supermodel’s body and face. Even his mother couldn’t deny her beauty and grace, once he convinced Tia to come.
“When is she due to arrive?” His mother’s tone dripped acid. Not graceful in defeat, Gracia de Leos.
“She’s not,” he admitted.
This time she raised an eyebrow.
“I still have to convince her. She hasn’t been answering her mobile phone.”
His mother looked like a specimen from the insect kingdom had skittered across the toe of her three thousand dollar shoe. “She hasn’t answered the summons of a prince?” She also sounded scandalized.
“She isn’t required to talk to me, you know,” he said dryly. And Tia wasn’t. That made his life a little more, scratch that, a lot more complicated.
Something he didn’t need since life had taken a drastic nosedive since the passing of his father a year ago. So far, life made him reluctant to climb out of bed these days.
But Tia Morrison – she could probably convince him to do a lot of things. With pleasure.
“It’s just as well. I’m sure you can find a nice male microbiologist.” His mother turned a page in her planner and forgot all about Tia, probably with the belief she’d won. “Now, I’ve arranged for the Montclair’s, Wellington’s, and Carnegie’s to come for dinner tonight. They all have eligible daughters who would make you a fine princess. Do speak to them, Aleksi,” his mother ordered.
He refrained from rolling his eyes. Fortunately, he’d already made arrangements for the evening. “Mother, I’m due to fly back to America tonight. I informed you of my intentions at breakfast this morning.”
She paused in her page turning to glare at him. “You can cancel the flight. Or postpone it.”
He leaned forward, curious. “How? If I don’t do this immediately, how many more people will be harmed?”
She blinked at him, as though she couldn’t think of anything to say, so he pressed his advantage.
“We need a microbiologist, now, before the entire principality is affected. How many more children and senior citizens do you want to see die before we take care of this?”
“But darling, you have to find a wife so you can produce an hei
r.” Her protest fell on ears who’d heard it too often of late.
“My heir isn’t important,” he said and she gasped and raised a hand to her chest.
“Not important,” she repeated, aghast. “Now that your father is gone, it’s the most important thing in your life.”
This time he had to curl his hands into fists and count slowly to ten, keeping his eyes closed. His jaw was set so firmly he was afraid he’d shatter his teeth. “Our people can’t drink the water. They can’t bathe, they can’t wash their clothing, they can’t cook without boiling the water. Their lives have been so profoundly affected by this our productivity and everyday lives have been reduced to mere survival and your only concern is my heir?” He spoke through clenched teeth, afraid if he unlocked his jaw, he’d say something he might regret.
“They’ll work that problem out,” she said breezily and waved a negligent hand. As though she didn’t care.
“They’ll work it out?” he thundered, unclenching his jaw and bolting from his chair in a movement of disbelief and anger. “Who’ll work it out?”
She blinked and shrunk back in her chair. “There’s no need to raise your voice, dear,” she reprimanded.
“Who’ll work it out?” he repeated, not bothering to decrease his tone. “Finding the cure for this problem is my duty. No one else has the means, or authority to do so. It’s my responsibility. Just as it would have been Father’s if he were still living.”
“But your heir...” she said weakly.
“Isn’t as important as my people,” he said through gritted teeth again. “That means I’ll be on that plane tonight, on my way back to America to convince our only hope for a cure to come home with me.” He thought maybe his apparent anger stopped whatever protest she might have made.
He’d lose it completely if she kept on. His father would have discovered the cure by now. His list of allies and resources had been extensive. But Aleksi didn’t have the contacts his father had made. Aleksi felt like he was starting fresh, with a brand new slate, which wasn’t bad, but in times like this, it wasn’t good, either.
He needed a microbiologist.
He needed an heir.
His plan was to kill two birds with one stone. And that stone even had a name.
Tia Morrison.