Ruling the Princess

by Christi Barth

  Theo was humbled at seeing her compassion up close.

  He’d clearly been wrong. Nobody wanted to shake hands with an ordinary woman. They wanted to be touched by the glamorous princess.

  Being wrong stung, so he lashed out.

  Like an idiot.

  Or like someone stuck in a very old, very deep rut. “What happens to the armful of gifts I just carried for you? People spend their hard-earned money on flowers. Do you even bother to take them home?”

  “No. They’re all donated. Since we’re at a hospital, today’s flowers will be distributed to patients who haven’t received any. The stuffed animals will go to the children’s wing. Depending on where we are and the gifts received, they may go to convalescent and nursing homes or women’s shelters. Nothing gets thrown out or wasted.”

  Yet again, he’d fixated on what seemed frivolous and wasteful—and she’d entirely deflated his argument.

  And unlike their other…ah, disagreements, this one was all one-sided. Genevieve wasn’t pushing back for the sake of winning or getting her way. She’d managed to chastise him by simply doing the right thing.

  Yes, she was still entitled and could be pushy. Single-minded. Close-minded to any suggestions he made that at all changed the tradition-bound ways of the monarchy.

  But today, Theo had seen other sides to the princess, warm, thoughtful, compassionate sides.

  And as the afternoon progressed, he saw something else. He saw how every single person in the hospital, from family to staff to patients, lit up when she spoke to them. He saw that her visit wasn’t an official duty inconveniently breaking up their day—it was a gift that made their day.

  Maybe the House of Villani really did make a difference in the kingdom.

  Whatever they did, Princess Genevieve was clearly the heart of it all.

  Suddenly, Theo was attracted to a whole lot more than her pretty face and fighting spirit.

  He wanted the whole woman.

  Chapter Seven

  Genevieve shot the dirtiest, most loathsome side-eye she could muster at dawn o’clock toward her sister. Her non-sweaty sister, who looked loose and happy draped over a giant red inflatable ball.

  “Kelsey, tell me the truth—did you only come to taunt me?”

  “With what? You’re prettier, more polished, a million times better at everything princess related, and you can swear in six languages. How can I possibly taunt you?”

  Like that string of super nice things made it any better. Genny wiped the back of her neck with a towel. “Because you’re just sleepy-chilling while I am getting my ass kicked by this elliptical machine.”

  “Oh.” She grinned very unapologetically and waved her arm in a big arc. “Can’t run in this cast.”

  “Technically, you can. It’s on your wrist, not your ankle.” Genevieve knew she sounded petulant. Churlish. But the gym in the former dungeon of Alcarsa Palace was the one place she dropped all pretense…and politeness.

  Exercise was a hated, loathsome necessity. That supposed endorphin rush? She’d never felt it. All Genny ever felt in the gym was irrationally angry at how uncomfortable the one-two punch of sweating and panting made her. On top of doing weights for her shoulders and back that only seemed to give her more knots.

  Kelsey rolled forward until only her upper back was supported in a strong bridge pose. “Nope. I’d sweat, and there’s no way to wash the inside of a cast until it comes off. The nurse told me it’d be best for international relations if I avoided working up a sweat while I’m stuck in this. I liked her.”

  “You liked the woman who told you not to stink so badly as to offend world leaders?”

  “Yes. She treated me like a patient, not a princess. I love when that happens.”

  Kelsey still resisted the princess perks. Too bad Theo wasn’t auditing her. He’d be unable to find a single thing to complain about.

  Which would be a shame, because when he did get all pedantic about cutting back, he got this sexy furrow between his brows…

  Damn it. Genevieve grabbed her towel again, this time to swipe across her chest.

  “I thought you loved getting breakfast delivered to your room every morning. That only happens because you’re a princess, you know. You can’t like some of the perks and bitch about the rest.”

  “You bet I can. It’s July, and I’m being forced to wear pantyhose to that ceremony on Tuesday. Talk about sweaty…oh! Maybe I could get a doctor’s note, excusing me from wearing them for medical reasons.”

  Between Theo and now Kelsey, Genevieve was beginning to doubt that pantyhose were even sold in the United States. “Trust me, even if you had a cast on both legs, our grandmother would still expect you to drag them on over the plaster. There’s no getting out of it.”

  “Well, my misery in the pantyhose should make up for your misery today of watching me not really working out. Are we good now?”

  “I suppose.” Mostly because she’d finished her half hour on the elliptical. No, that wasn’t right. Mostly, it had just felt good to vent at somebody, instead of working out alone like she used to.

  “Oh, and Genny?”

  “Mmm?” she responded, chugging water from her favorite water bottle. A Christmas present from Christian, it had an ombre color wash from orange to blue. He’d personalized it with a gold tiara and her initial, which always made her laugh.

  “Thanks for bitching at me.” Kelsey sat up and bounced on the ball. “Like a sister, and not just like, well, a bitch. I feel like we’re finding our rhythm, you and me.”

  “I like it, too. Having a sister is turning out to be fairly awesome.” Then—always a second too late—Genny remembered Kelsey’s other sister. The one back in Michigan recovering from being shot, here, on the steps of Moncriano’s Parliament. “You miss Mallory, don’t you?”

  “Only all the time every day. But I know it was the right move for her to be taken care of back at home. Our parents needed that time after almost losing her.”

  “I can’t even imagine how they’re coping.” Except…she could.

  Because their father, the king, had slid into a sort of daze for the opposite reason after his long-lost daughter returned. It was as if his brain couldn’t wrap around the truth of her being back, under the roof of his palace.

  And since she’d narrowly missed being shot, he’d slid even further. The fact of her escape, Kelsey’s getting to know her family and her country every day, the overwhelming presence she brought to the family—he couldn’t grasp it.

  “I want her to come back,” Kelsey stated with a definitive bob of her head that set her blond ponytail swinging. “To live here.”

  Wouldn’t that just give their grandmother conniption fits? An American living in the palace—even though in the few weeks she’d visited, Mallory had demonstrated a far superior grasp of protocol and respect for tradition than Kelsey.

  Cautiously, since Genny was still feeling her way around how to handle Kelsey’s sister-by-circumstance, she asked, “I thought she had a job waiting in New York?”

  “It was a new job, and they couldn’t hold the position not knowing how long it would take her to heal. They gave her a month’s salary as an apology for cutting her loose.”

  “That’s still a slimy move.” Righteous indignation ripped through her. How dare they? “They fired her for being a victim? She should sue. Aren’t Americans famous for being litigious?”

  “Some Americans,” Kelsey corrected. “But they didn’t have to give Mallory any money. And if she did win a lawsuit and get the job back, how could she go to work there? It’d be a toxic environment. So she let it go.”

  That was a mature decision. Still, Genevieve wished Mallory had decided to fight. She’d love nothing more than to swoop in with her international name recognition and title and leverage the hell out of both to shame Mallory’s former employers.
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  Then she put the conversational pieces together. “Which means now she has nowhere to go.”

  Pacing across the squishy gray floor mats, Kelsey said, “She can’t afford to live in Manhattan without me. My bailing as a roommate really cut down on her options.”

  One of Genny’s favorite things about her sister was her gigantic heart. Except when it got in her own way. “We’ve been over this. Choosing to embrace your family duty and legacy should not come with a side helping of guilt. Yes, your life path took an unplanned fork. It is the fault of whoever kidnapped you. Period.”

  “Until they’re found and I get to kick them in the nuts, I’ll still regret hanging Mallory out to dry. Who knows how long it could take her to find another job? Especially when she has one here already.”

  Suddenly, it all made sense. “You want her to be your lady-in-waiting full time.”

  She’d received the appointment as soon as the two first touched down on Moncriano soil, to allow her unfettered access. Mallory had thrown herself into learning everything in order to distill what was most urgent to Kelsey. But nobody had expected her to embrace the job permanently.

  “Elias told me that it comes with a salary. Living quarters in the palace.”

  From the hopeful upraise to her eyebrows and widened eyes, Kelsey wanted Genny to elaborate. To convince her that this was, indeed, a worthy idea. That it wasn’t an insult to Mallory, on top of mistakenly believing she was at fault for her sister being jobless.

  “Oh, yes, it’s a real job. Or can be, depending on what you make of it. Some do it simply for the prestige. They divvy up the responsibilities between several ladies-in-waiting.” Genny dropped to a yoga mat to stretch out her screaming hamstrings. “Many waive the salary, as they’re already wealthy and titled. None of mine want to live in the palace.”

  “Really? I figured that’d be everyone’s fantasy…who grew up here, at least. After all, it guarantees the chance of bumping into our hottie, single brother-who-will-be-king.”

  Genny beckoned Kelsey closer. Then she curled her hand to the side of her mouth. In a stage whisper, she said, “Rumor has it that for all the gilded sconces, it can be a bit of a pain in the ass to live in the palace.”

  Seeing as how Kelsey had bitched about that from the day she moved in, it brought a knowing smile to her lips. “There’s a lot of extra walking between rooms. Between wings. I got a blister by day three. Three blisters by day six. Or maybe it was just an allergic reaction by my feet to those high-heeled pumps you people force me into.”

  It wasn’t at all difficult to fill in the unspoken context behind the light-hearted complaint. “You’re isolated here. Lonely.”

  “Maybe. Yes.” Kelsey fiddled with the hem of her lycra capris. “It feels stupid to complain about living in a fairytale palace, but there’s absolutely nothing familiar.”

  “Believe me, I understand. No matter how ritzy the royal suite is at a hotel, there’s nothing better than coming home and sinking into your own bed.”

  “Almost everyone speaks English, but the radio and TV aren’t in it, obviously. Jokes are made about things I don’t understand or recognize. It’s hard to always be one step behind in conversations.”

  Genny’s heart ached for her sister. As much as they’d yearned for her return, it was easy to forget that she’d left literally everything behind in America.

  “Then I think this is a brilliant solution. A win/win. You’d give Mallory a job and a purpose, but she’d give you a respite from homesickness, be a touchstone to your old life.”

  Kelsey sat cross-legged next to Genny. Even took her sweaty hands. “This isn’t a referendum on how you and I are getting along.”

  “Of course not. The only thing better than one sister is two, I imagine.”

  “So you wouldn’t mind?”

  She would not cry. Genny blinked hard against how touched she was that Kelsey would even worry about that. They had made huge strides in such a short time.

  Forging the bonds of sisterhood was work. Especially in a gym. This whole thing would be easier over a cool glass of Riesling.

  “You’re in a literal foreign country, doing a job you never wanted, surrounded by virtual strangers. What kind of a monster would I be to object to you snatching comfort wherever you’re able?”

  “Thank you. I just…well, this is your house. Palace. Whatever. I very much feel like a visitor still. I don’t want to make assumptions and upset anyone.”

  “Kelsey. You don’t have to tread carefully around me. Or Christian, for that matter. We’ve gotten over that hump. I appreciate the sentiment, but it shouldn’t matter what I think. You want Mallory here. You should have her next to you. Period.”

  “Then I’ll call her this morning. Well, her morning.” Kelsey pulled her into a tight hug, sweat and all. “This seven-hour time difference between us makes me feel like my life is a TV show on a time delay for cursing…and possible indecent activity with my boyfriend.”

  “Elias?” Genevieve guffawed at the thought. “He’d never be indecent in public. Christian was the rambunctious one of the two of them, always pushing the envelope of what he could get away with.”

  “Well, a crown prince has a bit of a bigger line in the sand than a Royal Protection Officer.”

  “Thanks for slipping out on him to meet me here.” Genny imagined it’d been a tough call. She wouldn’t want to roll out of a bed that had a warm, hard body in it.

  Not that she’d ever spent the whole night with a man.

  Sex was one thing. Choosing to sleep over was a level of commitment she couldn’t offer. Wouldn’t offer. That required a level of trust, an automatic vulnerability that was off-limits, as far as she was concerned.

  Kelsey got up to refill her water bottle from the unit in the corner. “Why are we in the gym so early, anyway?”

  “It’s the only way to be sure that we won’t be interrupted. Lord Theo drops in at the most inopportune times. Like he thinks he’ll catch me burning piles of money for fun.”

  “Or having gold flakes sprinkled over your eggs.” Kelsey giggled. “Sorry. I know what he’s doing is serious and impactful to the crown, yada yada yada. But I’ve got to admit that watching him get under your skin is more than a little entertaining.”

  “He’s…something. Not sure I’d go with ‘entertaining.’”

  Tempting.

  Annoying.

  Delicious.

  Intriguing.

  “Trust me. Watching you two trying not to get burned on the sparks you’re creating is vastly entertaining. If it was a reality show, your ratings would be through the roof.”

  “See? There you go taunting me again.” Genny stuck out her tongue.

  It felt great. Easy. Fun. Utterly uncomplicated.

  Lathan, one of Kelsey’s bodyguards, gave a double knock before opening the door. “Lady Ambra is at the elevator.”

  “Thank you. Send her down.”

  “So…you’re avoiding Theo. And you invited Ambra…ohhh,” Kelsey breathed, “is this a secret war council?”

  “I prefer to call it a strategy session. Ambra’s been doing some digging into the life of the Royal Auditor. If we’re lucky, she’s come up with something usable to get him to cut me some slack.”

  “I know nothing dark and twisted about Lord Theo. Why am I here?”

  “You’re my sister. You get automatically included. Plus, you conducted a secret affair with your bodyguard for weeks. Clearly, you’ve got a sneaky side that could come in handy.”

  “Your Highness.” Ambra curtseyed at them, with a bob of her head to each princess. Which looked ridiculous with her in a sports bra, tank, and leggings, but Ambra was a stickler for protocol. Even when it was just the two of them. “I apologize for being late.”

  “Didn’t want to work out?”

  “I had a bit of tro
uble extricating myself. Emilio took us out to his yacht in the harbor last night. The crewman wanted to wake the captain and check before bringing me back to shore.”

  Snickering, Kelsey said, “You had to do a walk of shame in…what’s that boat called that takes you to a bigger boat?”

  “A tender,” Genny helpfully filled in, holding back her own snicker. “Or, in Ambra’s case, an extended version of embarrassment.”

  “At least I’d had the foresight to pack these clothes.” Ambra resettled the strap of her sports bra. “You know I’d never let you down.”

  “That’s why I put you in charge of reconnaissance. What did you find out?”

  “Can we do this over coffee? And croissants?”

  Kelsey laughed uproariously. “In the gym?

  For all that Kelsey hated palace perks, Ambra adored them. Usually Genevieve didn’t mind indulging her. But this wasn’t worth the risk. “I’m afraid not. That would be highly suspicious behavior. Who knows if Lord Theo has eyes and ears among the palace staff?”

  “Can’t we just chalk it up to the American?”

  Ambra was most definitely not a fan of Kelsey’s. She seemed to take it as a personal affront that the House of Villani included an “American.” And also seemed to take every chance to conveniently forget that Kelsey belonged here, in the palace, every bit as much as Genevieve.

  Christian had suggested that Ambra “had a stick up her ass” about Kelsey because she was worried about being replaced as Genny’s confidante. Which was of no help whatsoever in diminishing the obvious rancor.

  Luckily, Kelsey had no problem standing up for herself.

  “You mean because obesity is such a problem in America that you think we double-fist donuts and croissants while working out?” With a glint in her eye, Kelsey shrugged. “See, I just call that efficient time management. Burning the calories as you eat them.” She sat back down on the exercise ball. “In that same vein, I can eat a whole pizza while having sex.”