He gazed down at her. “I appreciate your concern.”
Her heart thudded. That needed to stop. She couldn’t let his words make her feel mushy and want to hear more.
Forget honey. Pour on the vinegar. “Well, if you fall and crack your head open, blood will go everywhere. I don’t want my new shoes ruined. And we don’t have time for a hospital visit.”
“Good to have your priorities in order.” He sounded more amused than upset. “Once again, your honesty is…refreshing.”
“Jet lag must be shutting down my filter.” She wondered, however, if his compliment was a subtle slam. Probably.
Five days.
Emily led him toward the bathroom ten feet away. The robe did little to hide his muscles underneath her palms. The guy was fit. He smelled pretty good after a night of drinking and needing a shower, too. “Small steps, please.”
“I’m okay.” Luc straightened, not fully, but her head still only came to his nose. He was taller than she realized. He let go of her. “Things are no longer spinning.”
“Good.” Emily loosened her grip, but kept her hands on him. Better safe than sorry. And touching him didn’t suck. “You’ll feel better after a shower.”
He walked slowly, as if each step took concentration. “I appreciate your help.”
“Who usually helps you the morning after partying?”
“No one,” he said to her surprise. “I’ve been a prisoner at the villa for the past month. My taste of freedom may have gone to my head last night. Today is not a typical morning after.”
Yeah, right. And she was a pretty princess waiting for her one true love to rescue her.
She eyed him warily. “So you normally just wake up and start partying again.”
Luc laughed. The deep from the gut sound wrapped around her like a duvet. Cozy and warm.
Uh-oh. A royal snob and a prince of a jerk shouldn’t make her feel this way, especially one who’d likely forgotten her name again.
“That’s what the press would like you to believe, but it’s far from the truth,” he said. “I spend the day in bed sleeping it off.”
“Alone?” Oh, no. She hadn’t meant to say the word aloud. “Don’t answer. It’s none of my business.”
“No, but I will answer anyway. If you hadn’t arrived, I’d be asleep. Alone.” Luc studied her as if she were a lifeform he’d never seen. “I’m no angel. I’ve never claimed to be, but I’m not a party animal intent on destroying my liver and spending my days in and out of rehab.”
“You’ve been in rehab.”
“I have not.”
“I saw photos. Your parents confirmed you were there.”
Pain flashed in his eyes. From his hangover or from the truth, she didn’t now. But a part of her wished she could take back the words.
“You’re in advertising. You should know better than to believe everything you see in the media.”
Emily waited for him to say more and defend himself. He didn’t. “That’s all you’re going to say.”
“You’ve made up your mind.”
She had. “But most people would—”
“I’m not most people.” He stopped at the bathroom doorway. His hard gaze locked on hers. “I am a prince of Alvernia.”
The pride in his voice and change in his posture sent a chill running through her. Regal was the only way to describe him.
“I will not discuss this further,” he added.
His dismissive tone made her feel as if she’d been caught spreading rumors. Being nice had backfired. So had being her typical self. What now? Emily turned on the light in the bathroom.
A white marble countertop provided the perfect backdrop to the gold fixtures and large mirror. A toilet and a bidet were off to the left next to the tub.
He entered the bathroom. Squinted. “Is there a way to dim the light?”
“No. But I can turn off the light if you don’t mind the dark.”
“That will be best.”
She lowered the toilet lid. “Sit until the water’s warm enough.”
He did.
She turned off the light, then propped open the door with a towel so the bathroom wouldn’t be pitch black. She pushed back the shower curtain and turned on the tub faucet. “Taking a bath in the dark will be safer than standing in the shower.”
“I’ve never been one to take the safest path.” He sounded like he might be smiling, but she focused on the warming water. “I’d rather shower.”
Of course he would. She checked the water temperature. “Warm enough. Step into the tub. I’ll close the curtain, then you can hand me your robe and switch the water stream from the faucet to the showerhead.”
“Turn on the showerhead now. I’ll disrobe, then get in.”
She didn’t want him in her face naked again. That would be too distracting, even with the lights off. “I prefer my plan.”
“Yours is complicated. Mine is simple. You’ve seen me naked.”
“Yes, but I’m trying to avoid impropriety. One wrong step, you hurt yourself. Imagine help arriving with you naked and me trying to explain what happened. Word would get out. The press would be nothing but hyperbole. That would mean trouble for both of us.”
“Not to mention blood on your new shoes.”
That made her smile. “Must avoid ruining the shoes.”
A beat passed, then another. “Help me into the tub, hang up my robe, then step outside. Leave the door ajar. I’ll call if I need assistance.”
“You feel steady enough?”
He stood. This time he didn’t sway. “Yes.”
Thank goodness. She blew out a breath of air.
“That relieved?” he asked.
She helped him into the tub, then closed the shower curtain. “You have no idea.”
“You do realize you’re missing out on seeing me undress.”
His playful tone made her laugh. Of course, he was right. His personality might leave a lot to be desired, but not his body. “I do. I’ll just have to console myself.”
“With champagne?”
She heard him taking off the robe. Tried not to think about him undressing. “Chocolate.”
A bundle of fabric pushed around the edge of the curtain. She took the robe and hung it on the back of the door. “You’re all set.”
“I believe I am.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I have a feeling if anyone can find me a princess bride, it’ll be you, Emily Rodgers.”
A sense of pride swelled at his words. He’d remembered her name, too. “That’s why they sent me. I won’t let you down.”
*
Twenty minutes later, Luc found a white button-down shirt, gray pants, boxer briefs, a pair of gray socks, and a yellow tie on the bed. He dressed.
Emily must have done this. She seemed the type to have researched what outfit a royal should wear based on the time of day and destination.
Luc opened the door to the sitting area. His bodyguard, over six feet tall of inked muscles, leaned against the wall. The casual pose contradicted the man’s warrior strength and quick reflexes.
Nick straightened. “Your tea’s been steeping, sir.”
“I thought we were beyond using sir.”
“Me, too. But then you ran away, bro.”
And so it begins. “Saying I ran away makes me sound like I’m twelve.”
“More like ten or eleven.” Nick didn’t crack a smile, nor did he sound amused. “I hope she was worth it.”
Luc pictured sweet Vivianca with warm brown eyes, an infectious grin and dark blonde curly hair. “Most definitely.”
“Is she royalty?”
“No.” But that didn’t stop her from calling herself a princess and wearing the tiara he’d given her for her birthday.
“She makes you happy.”
Smiling, Luc sat near the tea service. “Very much so.”
As did the other children helped by his Dream Big Alvernia foundation. In their young eyes, he was e
very bit a prince as his oldest brother, the Crown Prince, as royal as his Majesty, the king himself. Yesterday Vivianca had told Luc that she loved him. No one had said that to him in years. He doubted anyone else would say those words to him and mean them with the unconditional love of that beautiful child.
Nick unzipped a duffle bag. “Don’t pull that crap again.”
If Luc were needed, he wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever he had to do to get there. “I can’t make any promises.”
“Figured as much.” Nick pulled something silver from his back pocket. “That’s why I brought handcuffs.”
Luc picked up his cup of tea. “You’d have more fun if you used them on your beautiful wife.”
Nick’s nostrils flared. “Don’t talk about Addie or—”
“I’ll be known as Princess Lucy from here on out.” Luc took a sip. “Emily warned me.”
“Not surprised. She’s the most organized person I know. Nothing gets by her.”
Emily had appeared organized and competent, but she’d also spoken without thinking. The way her lips parted slightly had given her away, but her slip-ups made her seem human not a one-dimensional workaholic married to her job. “She’s wound tight.”
“She’s been like that since she was a kid.”
Luc couldn’t imagine the woman as a little girl. She would have sent her dolls to get business and law degrees before going out on a first date. “She doesn’t like me.”
“Emily doesn’t like many people, but she gets the job done.”
No doubt. She had with him. Luc had more questions, but he didn’t want Nick to take his interest in Emily the wrong way. “She’s not the only one. Your wife gave me the death stare to make sure I received Emily’s message.”
“That’s my girl.” Nick’s grin made him look almost nice.
Luc surveyed the sitting room over the lip of his cup. Empty plates. Half-filled coffee cups. No pretty faces to look at nor curves to admire. “Where are the ladies?”
“At the van. Along with the luggage, including yours. Traveling light these days?”
He ignored him, focused on the tea.
“Hungry?” Nick asked.
Luc’s stomach clenched. The shower had helped, but he wasn’t a hundred percent over the hangover. “Tea is enough.”
“That’s what you get after a two-day drinking binge.”
“Not two days.” Though he hadn’t slept much after he arrived, but that wasn’t due to partying. “Only last night.”
“No need to lie. I’m your bodyguard, not your father.”
Nick’s tone reminded Luc of Emily’s. No one believed him. “My father wouldn’t be standing here calmly.”
“He knows you’re in Alvernia.”
Luc bit back a curse. He sipped his tea without letting his emotions betray him. “What was His Majesty’s reaction?”
Nick’s hard gaze narrowed. “He was livid you’d put yourself in danger by not bringing security.”
Livid, not worried or concerned. Typical. His siblings ignored his calls and texts. His parents had forbidden him to return to the palace without a royal fiancée. His biggest asset to his family was being the scapegoat. He took the blame and diverted attention for his oldest brother—the so-called happily married and upstanding Crown Prince Bernard—from drug rehab stints to one-night stands.
One big happy royal family.
Luc finished his tea. “No one is planning to hurt me. My oldest brother might be a target since he’s heir to the throne, but I’m the youngest. Expendable.”
“You’re a prince from a powerful and wealthy family. You could have been kidnapped or set up by scam artists or a woman.”
“I’m not a child ignorant of the ways of the world.”
“No, but you’re a man who likes to have too much fun.”
“There’s nothing dangerous about the fun I have.”
“Don’t test your luck.” Nick’s jaw jutted forward. “Next time you decide to take off, I won’t be puking my guts out and you won’t get as far. Handcuffs are not comfortable.”
“You have experience wearing them?”
Nick’s frown deepened. “This is nothing but a game to you.”
Not really. A game had a winner, something that was out of reach for Luc. But others counted on him. With Emily Rodgers’ assistance, he wouldn’t let them down.
“What else would you call being paraded in front of royal women like a stallion in need of a brood mare?” Luc asked.
“Insane.”
“Exactly.”
But he would allow himself to be filmed by a reality TV crew in the name of D-U-T-Y. He had no other choice.
His father’s ultimatum lay heavy on Luc’s heart. The consequences of failing were too great. He would find a royal to marry. He set his empty cup on the table. “Let’s go.”
Nick handed him the duffle bag. “Wear these over your clothes and put whatever didn’t get packed into the bag. We’ll use the service elevator. A white van’s parked outside the hotel’s kitchen entrance. Emily will have the engine running.”
“I pity anyone who crosses her path. Though watching her go after the paparazzi would be entertaining.”
“There would be blood.”
“Not while she’s wearing new shoes.”
Luc smiled, thinking about the ad exec turned royal matchmaker. He could see the gears turning in her brain as she tried to figure something out. He hoped she would be as analytical finding him a bride.
He had two weeks. Two weeks until filming ended. Two weeks until he needed to be engaged. Two weeks until life as he knew it would end if he failed.
Emily Rodgers had better not disappoint him.
Chapter Three
‡
Emily sat in the middle bench seat of the idling white van. The side door was open. A breeze carried the scents of basil and garlic from the hotel’s kitchen. She wanted to nap, but checked her cellphone instead. Nearly twenty minutes had passed since she left Luc’s hotel room. Nick had said he’d be down in ten. “Any word?”
“No text.” Addie placed her cellphone in her pocket. “I hope they didn’t run into trouble.”
“I haven’t seen anyone except the kitchen staff carrying out garbage.” Emily glanced out the back of the van, saw no one, and faced forward. “My guess is the prince isn’t cooperating.”
“He’s…”
“A pain in the butt.”
“I was going to say handsome.”
“Still a pain.”
Addie shook her head, the way she’d done for as long as Emily remembered. “Since when did you start calling handsome, naked guys pains? You wanted pictures of that surfer taking off his wetsuit in front of us last year.”
“I would have taken them except you grabbed my phone. You better be careful talking about another man like that. What if Nick finds out?”
“I’m married, not blind. And that’s what I’d have to be not to notice a bare-chested, hottie prince.”
“I’ll concede the point.”
“You better since you were checking him out.”
“Inspecting him.” Emily spoke carefully, considering each word. She didn’t want her friend to know how affected she’d been around Luc. Otherwise, Addie might decide to find Emily a date when they got home. No, thank you. “Looking for flaws that are keeping him from finding a wife.”
“I wouldn’t change anything about the guy, other than his drinking.” Addie’s nose crinkled. “But that might explain why he can’t find a princess to marry.”
Except the production crew hadn’t mentioned any drinking issues during filming. “Maybe it’s just him.”
“You think?”
Emily nodded. “Consider the facts. Prince Luc is gorgeous, but a man needs more than a pretty face and incredible body. Women want their husbands to have the whole package. That means looking beyond the surface. Let’s face it. His personality needs a complete overhaul. The guy’s not only arrogant and obnoxious, but he’s also
—”
“Right here,” a familiar royal voice said.
Heat rushed up Emily’s neck. Every nerve ending stiffened. She glanced out the open door. Did a doubletake.
Luc wore a pair of stained, baggy, blue coveralls and plastic-rimmed glasses. A nametag on his pocket read Otto. He held the straps to a canvas duffle bag. Her pulse kicked up a notch. He looked completely different. Not so rock-her-world sexy, but real…approachable.
The thick glasses hiding the prince’s gorgeous eyes and lashes weren’t vintage hip. Her grandpa had worn those kind of frames when he read her funnies in the Sunday paper. Maybe that memory was why she found them so appealing on Luc.
Damp curls stuck out the bottom of a funny-looking cap, as if he suffered from both a bad hair day and a horrible cut. Funny, given his carefree style suited his features and looked good after waking from a dead sleep.
She could almost believe Luc was a manual laborer except for two things. His hands. No callouses and scars and clean fingernails. And his shoes. He wore dirty shoe coverings, but those didn’t completely hide leather dress shoes that cost what a maintenance man earned in a week.
Still she gave Nick credit for coming up with the disguise on short notice while recovering from food poisoning. No wonder he was paid the big bucks.
“You’re staring.” Luc smiled widely. “Like what you see?”
“I like that you’re dressed.”
“Are you certain about that?” He reached for the zipper on his coveralls. “Most women prefer me undressed.”
Addie laughed. So did Luc.
Emily ignored both of them. “Get in the van before anyone notices you.”
“My mother wouldn’t recognize me in this outfit.”
“That’s the point of a disguise. Though you might find some women prefer maintenance man Otto to Prince Luc.”
“Name one.”
His tone challenged Emily, but she’d die before naming herself. “Just sayin’.”
He climbed inside. He leaned across her seat. His fresh scent circled her head. Not only soap. Something more. Him. Too bad she couldn’t bottle the fragrance and start her own company. She would be set for life.
“Excuse me, ladies, for interrupting your conversation,” he said.
The Cinderella Princess Page 3
