Courting His Royal Highness

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Courting His Royal Highness Page 5

by Any Hahn


  Chloe busied herself with studying the red folder in front of her. The show title's letters were purple, the color of royalty, and a golden bejeweled crown tilted at an angle off the H of Highness. She kept her head lowered, hoping no one would see the tears in her eyes. But Max had seen them. She couldn't hide her feelings from him. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to will the tears away, but they lingered, burning behind her lids, threatening to fall at any moment and embarrass her in front of her new employers.

  Why did she feel this way? Why? She barely knew the guy. In fact, she didn't really know him at all. She knew his body. She recalled the heat of his skin against hers, the way his muscular form covered hers, the way he held her close to him with his strong arms. Her heart flip-flopped.

  She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He flashed a dimpled smile at her, and her pulse fluttered. She looked away. Her friends would never believe this one. Not in a million-zillion years.

  Antonia rambled on about demographics and ratings to a room filled with people who would be working on the show, but Chloe wasn't listening at all. Her interest in the show faded in comparison to the interest in the man—correction, prince—who sat beside her in his double-breasted suit. His leg kept brushing against hers under the table and he smelled clean, of soap and shampoo. She gathered her courage to look at him again and was relieved he had turned his attention from her to his assistant, who was loudly and forcefully voicing the concerns of the infamous royal family of Romalia.

  She nearly sighed at Max's beauty. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Heck, Disney would be smart to design all their fairy tale princes after Prince Maximilian Radborne. His dark hair curled over the tops of his ears and against his temples, reminding her of Patrick Dempsey. She liked it a little long. Images of tangling her fingers through his hair flamed bright in her mind, and heat coursed through her. She felt her cheeks turn pink; in fact, her entire body turned pink.

  Egad, but this man did things to her. He made her feel totally out of control—and she didn't know whether to like that or not. It was exhilarating and scary at the same time. She knew nothing about him, except that he was an expert in the bedroom. She couldn't remember a time when she'd been so turned on, her orgasm so shattering. Their intimate night together had proved Prince Max was no stranger to women. He knew what they wanted and knew how to please.

  A twinge of jealousy gripped her, and she was surprised by it. After all, she had nothing to be jealous about. She had no claim to Max. They had promised no commitments to each other. It had been one utterly amazing, incredible, fulfilling night—and that was all that would ever exist between them.

  Sadness replaced the jealousy.

  What if Max was the man of her dreams, the man of her heart, and she couldn't have him?

  It was too horrible to contemplate.

  "Chloe?"

  She jolted out of her thoughts at Antonia's voice. She looked up and found the entire room gazing at her.

  "Are you all right, dear?"

  "Um, yes, I'm fine,” Chloe said softly, trying hard not to look at Max. “I'm sorry. I guess I zoned out for a minute. It won't happen again."

  Antonia's smile was kind. “Even I have a tendency to daydream now and then. We all do."

  "I don't blame you for tuning us out. Once Eric starts talking, it can get boring.” Max chuckled. “You don't need to concern yourself one bit about my overprotective family. They're bent out of shape about the whole show. I sort of did this on my own without telling them or getting approval. They aren't very happy with me at the moment."

  "Max, they have every right to be concerned,” Eric scolded from across the table. “They only have your best interests at heart, as do I. You have an image to uphold."

  Max rolled his eyes heavenward. Chloe swallowed a giggle. She could tell by their interaction the two were more than merely advisor and prince. They were friends.

  "Mr. Von Stratton, I promise we will discuss the royal family's concerns at a later time in a more private setting,"

  Antonia said. “Perhaps we could meet at the beginning of next week. I would be more than happy to talk with you."

  Eric snapped his expensive briefcase shut. “I look forward to the meeting. I have a long list."

  Max rolled his eyes towards the ceiling again. Chloe and Eric were the only two who noticed. Eric glared at Max while Chloe fought back a spontaneous giggle. He was sexy and funny, a marvelous combination. He didn't fit into the classic stereotype of a stuffy, arrogant monarch. Instead, he was relaxed and jovial, with his lazy smile and sparkling blue-blue eyes.

  "I'll have Karen arrange something immediately. She knows more about my schedule than I do.” Antonia laughed. “Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without that girl."

  "Karen's a gem,” agreed Lester. He gathered his papers, organizing them into one neat pile. “There is just one more thing to tell Chloe and Max."

  Max leaned forward at the same time she did. Her arm touched his, and she could feel the ripple of his muscles beneath the designer suit. His magnetic blue eyes looked into hers.

  "I hope you two don't have any plans for this weekend."

  "Well, I was looking forward to relaxing by the pool,” Max said with a lopsided grin.

  He was adorable. Handsome. Charming. Charismatic. What woman in her right mind could resist him? Chloe knew she couldn't. Spending the next few weeks in seclusion with him at an eighty-acre estate in ritzy Scottsdale was going to send her hormones into overdrive. Big time.

  "Your pool lounging will have to wait."

  "And why is that, Lester?"

  "Well, Max, you and Chloe are booked first-class on a flight to Phoenix tonight."

  She couldn't believe her ears. What? She was heading to Phoenix today, and with the Prince of Romalia as her companion? She wasn't opposed to traveling, but she definitely wasn't ready for this. She felt the heat of Max's gaze, but refused to look in his direction.

  "Is there a problem, Chloe?"

  "No problem. I'm just surprised,” she whispered softly.

  She wasn't about to complain. This show promised to be her big break into the business, but she couldn't help but be a little irritated. After all, it would've been nice to have some time to pack and make arrangements for her cat. It had never occurred to her she would be leaving so soon. In fact, it had never occurred to her that she would leave California. She supposed she should've been prepared for the possibility. But she was new to this whole thing. And she had a feeling the surprises were just beginning.

  "This should be interesting,” Max chuckled as he reached for the electronic ticket Lester handed him.

  Chloe grabbed her own. “Why is that?"

  He shrugged, tucking the ticket into the inside pocket of his jacket. “I've never flown commercial."

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Never?"

  "Nope."

  "Miss Tanner, the prince has his own private jet,” explained Eric, “which is undergoing some repairs at the moment."

  Chloe narrowed her eyes at the annoying man. He was treating her like a five-year-old, and she didn't appreciate it.

  "It'll be fun, Eric."

  Eric shook his head. “I must object to this. He cannot travel this way. The repairs on Romalia One will be completed in a couple of days. They can go then."

  Riding in a private jet sounded too good to be true to Chloe. So did first-class. She had never flown first-class before. Heck, she barely could afford a coach seat. The last time she'd traveled, really gone on vacation, was at the age of sixteen, when her entire family splurged and went to Walt Disney World. That had been a magical trip. She still remembered her first glimpse of Cinderella Castle. It still filled her with awe. She wondered if Max lived in a castle like that.

  Max held up a hand to ward off Eric's objections. “Eric, you can fly out to Arizona on the jet when the repairs are fixed."

  Eric opened his mouth, but Max stopped him before another word escaped.


  "No, Eric,” he said firmly. “The conversation is over."

  Eric crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his employer. “Your family wouldn't approve. I don't approve."

  Max sighed. “Let's not go there, Eric. Drop it, okay?"

  Chloe sympathized with Max. Sometimes she wished her family participated more in her life. She missed them dreadfully and had thought about moving back to Minnesota many times; however, she enjoyed her freedom, her independence, and the ability to make decisions for herself. It sounded as if Max didn't get to make his own decisions and had to have the constant approval from his advisor-friend Eric and his blue-blood family. Jeez, that sucked.

  Chloe made a mental note to call home before she left for Arizona to thank her parents for having enough confidence in her to let her be an adult, regardless of how many foolish mistakes she made. And she had made plenty, but she had learned a whole lot in the last ten years. And she'd learned it all on her own. It had not been an easy road, but it had been hers and hers alone.

  "A limo will be waiting for you Sky Harbor Internatioanl. It'll take you to my friend's estate and will be at your beck and call throughout your stay."

  Max winked at Chloe. “Sounds like fun."

  It did sound like fun. It sounded like a romantic getaway for two people in love. But that wasn't the case. They weren't in love. And they didn't have a chance of falling in love, of being together, because she was not one of the fifteen beautiful women who would soon do battle for his affections.

  Chloe swallowed nervously. A feeling of impending doom washed over her. She had feelings for Max. She couldn't deny it. One didn't share an extraordinary night with a man and simply not experience some emotional upheaval.

  But she couldn't act on those feelings. To do so would jeopardize her career and burn some serious bridges in Hollywood. Making Antonia and Lester angry would be the death of her dreams of a successful acting career. She couldn't afford to do that.

  She wasn't sure how this would work. She was going to be alone with him for two days. Oh, heavens, no! Just looking at him made her heart somersault and her palms sweat.

  Somehow she found her voice. “When do we leave?"

  "The flight leaves L.A. at six tonight. I've instructed the driver to take you and Max to one of my favorite restaurants for dinner. You'll simply love it,” Antonia said with a bright smile. “You'll have one night alone together before the contestants arrive tomorrow night. I hope you'll become good friends."

  Chloe thought Antonia looked rather pleased with herself. Sort of like the cat who stole the milk. She wondered if there was something she didn't know about this reality show. But it was more likely Antonia was thrilled the show was finally going to start production. Chloe decided not to dwell on it or become paranoid. She had a tendency to do that. She needed to stop worrying so much and let herself enjoy things as they came instead of psychoanalyzing everything. Not everyone had an agenda. And Antonia only had good intentions; after all, she wanted the show to succeed.

  The doors to the boardroom flew open and in walked a slew of waitresses and waiters, dressed in pristine white, with trays and serving carts laden down with delicious luncheon goodies.

  "Lunch is on EVE today.” Antonia beamed. “We want to thank you all in advance for the fabulous show you're going to create. Lester and I know it'll be a smash hit, definitely the type of show everyone will be talking about around the water coolers at work. It will revive the popularity of reality television."

  Chloe couldn't believe her eyes. She had never seen so much food. Scrumptious smells filled the room, and her stomach rumbled. She'd forgotten to eat breakfast. She'd been so worried about the meeting.

  "Would you and Max do the honors of cutting the cake?” asked Antonia.

  A waiter handed Max a silver knife just as a gigantic sheet cake appeared, carried by four waiters. The cake was white, but the letters spelling out the show's name were a brilliant royal purple.

  A champagne glass materialized in Chloe's hand. She was so astonished by all the grandeur, she nearly fainted. Her fingers trembled on the elegant stem. It was not made of cheap plastic—it was actually real glass or crystal. She couldn't tell which, but it was definitely not one of the dollar cups she bought on New Year's Eve for the lame party she and Julia hosted every year.

  Max smiled at her. She couldn't help but smile back.

  "Shall we?” he asked, nodding his head towards the massive cake. It practically covered the entire table.

  She couldn't speak. She nodded and rested her hand over his. His skin was warm, and the pads of her fingers slid softly in the valleys between his knuckles.

  "To Prince Max and Miss Chloe,” toasted Lester, “who will make Courting His Royal Highness the most popular reality show in history."

  A chorus of cheers erupted around the conference room. Everyone raised glasses in the air. Chloe didn't have time to be nervous, although it did seem like a lot of pressure to put on two people.

  Max lowered the knife. Chloe's forefinger covered his as the blade sank into the butter-cream frosting.

  She shivered as Max leaned close. His breath tickled her neck.

  "Are you ready for an adventure, my Queen Mab?” he whispered.

  Her eyes locked with his. “I'm ready,” she whispered back.

  His lips were so close. She'd only have to move a few inches to kiss him—and she wanted to. She had wanted to kiss him since the moment he walked into the room.

  Max's glass clinked against hers. “To us,” he murmured.

  "To us,” she repeated, mesmerized by the deep blue of his eyes.

  Her heart trembled.

  Realization dawned on her.

  She was falling for him. Hard. So very hard.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Four

  The incredulous look on Julia Montgomery's face was almost comical.

  "I can't believe it!"

  Chloe winced. The cat was out of the bag: she had let everything slip to her best friend and roommate. Julia knew about the show, about her starring role, and that it involved one of the most sought-after hunks in the world, the Prince of Romalia.

  "I can't believe it!"

  "You already said that.” Chloe pointed out the obvious as she threw open her closet doors. She reached in and blindly pulled out an armful of clothing.

  Julia flung herself across Chloe's bed. “Wow. I just can't believe it."

  "You're starting to sound like a broken record."

  "But it's so amazing.” Julia sighed.

  Chloe tossed the clothes on the bed. “I shouldn't have told you. Nobody is supposed to know. You have to promise me you won't tell a soul."

  Julia nodded. “I promise."

  Chloe didn't believe her. She loved her friend, but Julia couldn't keep a secret. It was her only fault. Chloe sat down on the bed and grabbed Julia's hands. “I mean it, Jules. You can't tell anyone. My career may depend on it."

  "I cross my heart,” vowed Julia.

  "Why don't I believe you? Why do I think the moment my back is turned, you'll call up everyone we know and blab to them about my new job and the prince?"

  Julia's blue eyes grew huge. Chloe had always envied Julia's eyes—but then, she envied many things about Julia. Jules was gorgeous. Blonde. Leggy. Perfect. She looked fabulous in a two-piece swimsuit. She fit the stereotype of a California girl. Except she wasn't from California. She was from Wisconsin. A Badger fan, a Packer fan, and a lover of cheese—all kinds.

  "I'm a vault,” Julia promised. “I won't say a word. I promise. I know how much this means to you."

  Chloe gazed into her friend's eyes for a long time. Though she saw honesty and determination shining in the very blue depths, her heart sank. She knew her friend too well. She could only hope that for once Julia would understand the importance of the situation and not spill the beans.

  "Thanks, Jules."

  "I'd do anything for you. You know that, don't you?"
<
br />   Chloe impulsively hugged her. “I know. It's just that this job is so important to me. It's EVE's top secret, and no one is supposed to know about it, at least not yet. If word gets out—"

  "I promise, Chloe. I'll make you proud. I won't tell anyone your secret."

  "I'd appreciate it,” whispered Chloe as she hugged Julia tighter. She was hopeful, but she doubted Julia would keep her word. Julia was a loveable and loyal friend, but a blabbermouth all the same.

  "Chloe, it's going to be so hard not to tell anyone,” Julia whined softly. “This is big stuff. I mean HUGE. You're going to be a star. It's so exciting. And you get to spend time alone with the world's yummiest bachelor."

  Chloe glanced at the clock on her nightstand. She groaned. There wasn't much time—the limo was picking her up in ten minutes. She untangled herself from Julia and jumped off the bed.

  "You'll watch Domino?"

  Julia hauled the purring black and white cat into her lap, gently scratching the feline behind the ears. “Of course. You know I love this old thing.” The cat's purring increased in speed and volume, appreciative of her affectionate fingers.

  Chloe paused a moment to drop a kiss on the cat's pink nose. She would miss her 16-year-old pet. She'd adopted him from a pet shelter her first week in California because of overwhelming loneliness. He'd been her loyal companion ever since. Domino slept with her every night, curled up in a purring, contented mass near her head.

  Julia leaned back on the multitude of pillows stacked up against the headboard, which was actually an old antique door she and Chloe had found one weekend at a flea market. They loved shopping flea markets and spent many hours searching for unique treasures. “So, tell me about him."

  "I don't have time.” Chloe flipped up the bed skirt and fumbled blindly under the bed for her suitcases. She crowed in triumph as she pulled forth the first navy blue piece.

  "Come on. You can't tell me this news and then leave without filling me in on all the delicious details."

  Chloe struggled to find a second piece to her matched set. She stretched out on her belly and shoved her arm as far as it would go into the lint-filled mystery world under her bed. “Gotcha,” she exclaimed as her fingers curled around the handle.

 

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