Royal Holiday Bride

by Brenda Harlen

  “When is the auction?”

  “October fifteenth.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’m sure you know a lot of women—beautiful and famous women—whose presence would bring the media out in droves.”

  “I don’t know anyone who advocates as passionately for the needs of children as you do.”

  “I’m flattered, really,” she told him.

  “But?” he prompted.

  “But I’m also worried that my attendance might be misinterpreted,” she admitted.

  He’d considered the same issue—albeit with less concern—because he knew that being seen in the company of the princess could help repair some of the damage that too many years of indiscretion had done to his reputation.

  “I’m surprised that you would weigh the nuisance of potential rumors against the benefits of a successful event,” he mused, injecting just a hint of disappointment into his tone.

  Her lips curved, just a little. “I’ll give you an A for effort, Your Majesty, but I’m not that easily manipulated.”

  “Forget the A and give me a ‘yes’ in response to my invitation.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, that’s better than a ‘no,’” he acknowledged.

  Chapter Eight

  Marissa thought about Dante’s request for a long time. She wanted to say yes because the hospital auction was exactly the sort of event she was happy to endorse. And she wanted to say no because she was worried that being with Dante could jeopardize her heart. Gabriella was right—she did like him. A lot. And the more time she spent with him, the more she liked him.

  But in the end, she decided it wasn’t fair to turn down his request for such decidedly personal reasons. Her only remaining concern was the advanced state of Gabriella’s pregnancy.

  She hated to think that she might be out of the country when her sister-in-law went into labor. Despite Gabriella’s reminder that she still had more than two months until her scheduled due date, Marissa didn’t give Dante her final answer about the auction until she had exacted a promise from the mother-to-be that she wouldn’t have the baby until Marissa was home.

  After she confirmed her plans with the king, she told Elena. Although her mother wasn’t happy that her daughter was going to Ardena without a ring on her finger, she was thrilled that she was going. She was certain the trip was a prelude to a proposal, and she took Marissa aside to impress upon her the importance of being properly chaperoned whenever she was with the king to avoid even the suggestion of impropriety.

  Marissa was tempted to tell her mother that it was too late to worry about her virtue, just to see how Elena might respond to that snag in her plans. But, of course, she didn’t. And with as much trepidation as anticipation, Marissa began to prepare for her trip to Ardena.

  In the last few days before her scheduled departure, she spent a lot of time at the hospital. She double-and triple-checked the volunteer schedule until Dr. Marotta took it away from her, promising her that they would somehow manage to take care of the babies and ensure the hospital walls didn’t fall down during the few weeks that she would be gone.

  Banished from the nursery, Marissa went down to the cafeteria for a muffin and a cup of coffee. She had just settled at a table when she sensed someone approaching.

  “Excuse me, Your Highness.”

  She looked up to see a young woman standing beside her. Actually, she looked more like a teenager in her faded jeans and T-shirt with a backpack slung over one shoulder. A pretty teenager, with dark blond hair, mossy-green eyes and fingernails that had been bitten to the quick.

  Marissa was aware that reporters came in all sorts of disguises, but she quickly decided that this girl was harmless enough and gestured for her to sit.

  “I’m Naomi,” she said.

  “What can I do for you, Naomi?”

  The girl shook her head. “I don’t want anything from you. I just wanted to warn you.”

  “About what?” Marissa asked, more curious than alarmed.

  “The king of Ardena.”

  Now her curiosity was definitely piqued. “Why do you think I need to be warned about the king of Ardena?”

  “Because I heard that you’re going out with him.”

  The girl might not be a reporter, but that didn’t mean Marissa could trust her not to sell to the tabloids any information she might disclose. Experience had taught her that “a source close to the princess” was sometimes a stranger who had stood next to her in an elevator or taken her order from behind the deli counter at the supermarket.

  “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” she advised.

  Naomi, obviously expecting a confirmation or denial, seemed startled by the reply. But then she nodded. “You don’t know me, so you have no reason to trust that what I’m telling you is true. But you need to know that the king has secrets.”

  “That’s a rather vague allegation,” Marissa said gently.

  She didn’t want to sound dismissive, but she didn’t want to encourage the continuation of this conversation, either. Whatever the girl’s grudge against Dante—and it seemed apparent that she had one—it wasn’t any business of hers.

  “If you don’t believe me, ask him about Siobhan.”

  “Who is Siobhan?”

  Naomi shook her head as she pushed back her chair. “It’s not my story to tell.”

  Well, that was…bizarre, Marissa decided, as she watched the girl walk away.

  And yet, it was hardly the most bizarre conversation she’d ever had with a stranger. For some reason, people seemed compelled to share the oddest information with her, as if it helped them feel that they’d made a personal connection with a member of the royal family. Marissa didn’t usually mind, but there was something about the conviction in Naomi’s eyes that unnerved her.

  Then Dr. Marotta brought his coffee to her table and Marissa forced herself to put the girl and their strange conversation out of her mind.

  The flight from Tesoro del Mar to Ardena was both short and uneventful. So short, in fact, that Marissa had little time to second-guess her decision or work herself into a panic about the media that would be waiting, in full force, to document the return of their king.

  There had been no fanfare when they’d departed from the private airstrip in Tesoro del Mar, no one to see that Princess Marissa had boarded the plane with King Dante, and therefore no one to alert the royal press corps in Ardena to her presence. Marissa wasn’t sure if the surprise element of her arrival would help her slip through unrecognized or if her unexpected appearance would focus more attention in her direction.

  She took a deep breath as she paused by the door. Protocol dictated that she wait until the king reached the bottom of the stairs before she began her descent, but Dante surprised her—and everyone watching—by pausing on the first step to wait for her.

  Now she was sure that everyone was looking at her. She forced herself to smile as she descended the portable staircase behind him. When she reached the bottom, he took her hand and gave her fingers a reassuring squeeze.

  While she appreciated the gesture of support, she knew that the media would try to turn it into something more. But the king seemed unconcerned, smiling and waving as he led her across the tarmac to the waiting limo.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked when they were settled in the back and on their way to the palace.

  “I’ll let you know when I see the papers tomorrow.”

  Of course, in an era of instant communication, she didn’t even have to wait that long. By the time they arrived at the palace, news of her arrival in Ardena had been tweeted around the world, captivating royal watchers in all parts of the globe with headlines ranging from Princess Bride-to-Be? and The New King’s Newest Conquest? to Has the Prim Princess Tamed the Former Playboy Prince?

  A statement was immediately released through the royal household’s media liaison explaining that the princess was a friend of the king’s who was visiting Ardena and would
be in attendance at the Third Annual Dinner, Dance and Auction to benefit Mercy Medical Center. Marissa appreciated the effort, but she knew it wouldn’t help. No amount of truth or fact would dissuade the media from generating the sensational headlines the public craved.

  She also knew the media wouldn’t be the only ones eager to scrutinize the Tesorian princess and her relationship with the king. A fact that was confirmed when she sat down to dinner with Dante’s family a short while later.

  On the plane, the king had given her the basic rundown on each of his family members. At twenty-nine, Jovanni—or Van, as he was called by his family and friends—was the next eldest and next in line to the throne. He was a scholar and a traveler who had studied at various and numerous institutions around the world, apparently acquiring degrees the way a tourist might pick up souvenir key chains, and now taught history and political science at the local university.

  His twenty-five-year-old sister Francesca had an art history degree and a job as junior curator at the National Gallery of Art and Artifacts. And although Dante didn’t mention it, a few years back, Princess Francesca had been briefly linked—at least in the press—with Marissa’s cousin, Marcus Santiago.

  Twenty-two-year-old Matteo had played semipro baseball in California for a couple of years, until he was caught in a compromising position with the wife of the team’s owner. After that, he traveled from Las Vegas to Atlantic City, then on to Monte Carlo and Macao, somehow always managing to win greater fortunes than he lost and breaking all kinds of hearts along the way.

  But it was nineteen-year-old Leticia who was considered the wild child of the Romero family. And it was she who had visited Tesoro del Mar with her father almost three years earlier, creating quite a scandal when photos of her dirty dancing with Prince Cameron were published in the local papers.

  Despite being armed with this basic information, Marissa was still a little overwhelmed when she came face-to-face with the Romeros en masse. Benedicto may have given up the throne but he was still the head of the family, so he sat at the head of the table, with Arianna at the opposite end. As guest of honor, Marissa was seated to the queen’s right, across from Dante. To her right was Jovanni, and next to him sat Francesa. Across from Francesca was Matteo, and beside him was Leticia.

  Marissa had little experience with family meals. As children, she and her brothers had mostly been kept out of sight when their mother was entertaining, and even when she wasn’t, Elena preferred to take her meals alone. But the Romeros were obviously accustomed to such gatherings, and no one seemed to worry about reaching in front of someone else or interrupting a conversation on the opposite side of the table. Marissa did her best to keep up with everything, but a couple of times throughout the meal, Dante gave her a gentle nudge with his foot under the table, followed by a pointed look in the direction of her plate to remind her to eat.

  The meal was delicious, but it was the family dynamics that captivated Marissa.

  Her conversations with Van confirmed that he was smart and unassuming—less expected were the quick smile and natural charm that immediately put Marissa at ease. Matt was as cocky and self-assured as she’d anticipated, a man to whom flirting was as natural as breathing. Francesca was mostly quiet and introspective, but she showed evidence of a surprising sense of humor. Leticia was the hardest to read. Despite her penchant for getting herself into sticky situations, Marissa got an impression of a sweet and surprisingly innocent young woman who was simply chafing against the limits and restrictions placed upon her by her status.

  In addition to these individual impressions and the widely differing personalities of the siblings, Marissa got the sense that they were a tight-knit group. Certainly there didn’t seem to be any obvious rivalries or jealousies, and especially not over the fact that Dante was now king.

  They were all welcoming and gracious to Marissa, but she wasn’t unaware of the looks that passed between them. And if she’d had any doubts before that she wasn’t Dante’s type, the curious glances and subtle inquisitions of his brothers and sisters put them firmly to rest.

  After dinner, everyone went in different directions. Dante excused himself with an apology to Marissa, explaining that he had some political matters to discuss with his father; Van went to his suite to prepare a surprise quiz he planned to give to his students on Monday; and Matt headed out to meet some friends in town. Arianna went to her own quarters to attend to some correspondence; Francesca retreated to her studio to finish a painting.

  “I don’t have anywhere I need to be,” Leticia confided to Marissa. “But I am going to take the rest of this bottle of wine out to the terrace, if you want to join me.”

  “I would love to,” Marissa agreed, pleased by the invitation.

  She followed Dante’s sister out to the back courtyard.

  “Actually, I was hoping we’d have a minute to chat,” Marissa said, accepting the glass of wine Leticia handed to her. “Because I wanted to thank you.”

  “I can’t begin to imagine what for.”

  “For making headlines with my brother Cameron when you were in Tesoro del Mar a few years back.”

  “Oh.” The young princess grinned. “I’d like to say we had a good time together, but the truth is, he brushed me off. He was very sweet about it, but very clear. I told my father the same thing, but he still freaked out.”

  Marissa sipped her wine. “Cameron freaked, too, when he saw the papers—which is, indirectly, how he and Gabriella hooked up again after sixteen years apart.”

  Leticia laughed. “Always glad to help. If you ever want to create a stir—or just stir up some gossip—I’m your girl.”

  “Just think of all that you could accomplish if you used your powers for good,” Marissa teased.

  “But it’s more fun to be bad.”

  “Or at least pretend that you are.”

  The younger woman’s gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “My big brother always did appreciate a woman who was more than just a pretty face.”

  “I’m flattered, I think,” she said drily.

  “You should be,” Leticia said. “Dante has pretty high standards, and it’s obvious that he really likes you.”

  “I can’t imagine that he would have invited me to help out with the auction if he didn’t.”

  “He actually told you that he wanted help with the auction?”

  She nodded. “In fact, I have a meeting with the fundraising committee on Tuesday.”

  “Well, your association with the event will definitely combat some of the negative publicity that has befallen the hospital expansion.”

  Dante hadn’t said anything to Marissa about negative publicity. He’d only commented that he believed her involvement could help raise the profile of the event and, consequently, attract more money to the cause.

  Leticia topped up Marissa’s glass, then her own. “Not to mention how much showing up as Dante’s date will bolster his reputation after the hits he’s taken.”

  Tingles of apprehension danced up Marissa’s spine. “What kind of hits?”

  Leticia winced. “You said he’d told you.”

  “He told me about the auction,” she repeated.

  “Well, then—” the princess lifted her glass “—let me wash down my foot with some pinot noir.”

  “What kind of hits?” Marissa asked again.

  She sighed. “The press has been gunning for Dante since my father announced that he was stepping down. They’ve been claiming that the new king is out of touch with the needs of his people, socially unaware and fiscally irresponsible.”

  “That all sounds rather vague and, truthfully, not much different than the criticisms about any other form of government.”

  “You’re right. But more specifically, there was an error made with respect to the allocation of funds in the national budget shortly after Dante took office. Somehow, money that had been earmarked for the hospital—for the purchase of equipment for the neonatal intensive-care unit—was instead diverted
to the naval-defense fund.”

  “Why the naval-defense fund?”

  “Where the money went isn’t as important as the fact that the hospital didn’t get it,” Leticia said. “And when a newborn’s near-fatal medical condition wasn’t diagnosed because Mercy didn’t have the right equipment, Dante was blamed. The media alleged that he didn’t care about the nation’s health care or its children.”

  “And I’ve been vocal in my support of both,” Marissa realized.

  “I didn’t mean to imply that your reputation is the only reason he’s interested in you,” Leticia said, sounding apologetic.

  But for Marissa, the information certainly answered a lot of questions.

  Dante was relieved to be home.

  He was even more relieved that he’d succeeded in convincing Marissa to come back with him for the auction, which was exactly what he wanted. Or at least the first step in getting him what he wanted.

  “I like your princess.”

  Dante couldn’t help but smile in response to his father’s typically blunt statement. “At this stage, I think she might object to being referred to as mine.”

  “Isn’t she the one you’re going to marry?”

  “As soon as I can get her on board with that plan.”

  “I can’t imagine that will take too long.” Benedicto lowered himself into a vacant chair. “I’ve never known you not to get what you want.”

  “I’d say that the citizens of Ardena are probably more eager for a royal wedding than I am.”

  “You don’t have to be eager but you do have to be committed,” his father warned. “Marriage should be forever. If you’re not sure, or if you don’t think she’s the right one, or if you have any doubts at all about whether she can handle the expectations and demands that will be placed upon her, then you should wait.”