by Leanne Banks
"No. The only thing that qualifies him to be King of Altaria is the fact that he is the eldest male Rosemere. He could easily be an eighteen-year-old inheriting the throne. Instead he's an intelligent, experienced thirty-four-year-old man."
"An eighteen-year-old would likely be easier to manage," her father grumbled. "Do you think you'll be able to discourage him from taking the throne?"
Erin's chest tightened with conflicting feelings. She understood some of her father's reservations about Daniel. He was an American, after all, with very little knowledge or appreciation of Altaria's history. Her father feared Daniel would move in like a bull in a china shop, disrupting the peace and tranquility of the kingdom. Erin remembered the determined expression on Daniel's face when he talked about taking the throne. "I don't know, Father. I sense His Majesty views his role as king as an act of duty and honor."
Her father's disapproving silence stretched on, and Erin closed her eyes.
"You're not switching loyalties, are you?" he asked quietly.
"No," she said, but she wondered how she would settle the conflict tugging at her. Her father wasn't here, dealing with Daniel Connelly in the flesh. "You are my father and Altaria is my country."
"Remember, Erin, just because he is a good man doesn't mean he would be good for Altaria. Get some sleep, child. I will call again," he said and hung up.
Erin returned the phone to the cradle and stared out the window at the lights of the Chicago skyline. She hugged her arms around herself. Her father had called her child. She hadn't felt like a child for years. Her mother had died when Erin was so young that she only had vague memories of softness, gentle laughter, sweet touches and perfume.
Spending her childhood in boarding school had made her grow up quickly, forced to depend only on herself. She'd spent a lot of years hiding her loneliness. Now she finally had a chance to forge a bond with her father, and she wasn't at all sure she would be able to accomplish it.
She absently rubbed the soft fleece sweatshirt and glanced down at the too-large sweatpants she still wore. It was odd, but wearing Daniel's sweat suit made her feel as if she were wrapped in a big, warm hug. She wondered what it would be like to be wrapped in Daniel's arms. She wondered how his lips would feel on her mouth, on her skin. The thought nearly gave her hiccups.
Ridiculous, she thought, rolling her eyes at herself. She went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and tried to dismiss her unsettling thoughts about His Majesty. She chanted the title to drill it into her mind. "His Majesty, His Majesty, His Majesty," she murmured as she pulled out a nightgown and changed her clothes.
Erin immediately noticed that the big, warm hug was gone. She dashed under the covers and pulled them up over her head just as she'd done a thousand times as a child. She tried not to think about Daniel, but she couldn't forget how gently he'd touched her thigh and how he'd insisted she wear his clothes. She couldn't forget that when she talked to him, he looked at her, not past her. She couldn't forget him.
* * *
"I know it's short notice," Daniel said the following morning. "But if you're not doing anything tonight, would you attend the Big Brothers' charity ball tonight with me?"
Since Erin had arrived in Chicago, she hadn't been less busy in her life. She struggled to mesh her job description with Daniel's last-minute invitation. "A Big Brothers' charity ball, sir?" she echoed.
"It's one of my family's pet charities and I promised I would attend before I got the king assignment. I told my mother I would still attend as long as I can keep it low profile. In other words, we'll arrive late and leave early. Are you game?"
Her mind still reeling, Erin twisted the phone cord around her finger. "But why me, sir?"
"There are other women I could take, but I'd spend the evening dodging any discussion of my future plans. I'm leaving this world and going into another. You're the one who understands that best."
Flattered despite herself, Erin felt her heart swell in her chest.
"So, yes or no?"
She fought a thread of panic. "I didn't bring anything appropriate to wear to a ball."
"This is Chicago, a shopping Mecca," he said, countering her concern. "Put what you need on my tab and make sure you get a wrap too. The ball begins at eight. I'll pick you up at eight-thirty.
"Yes, sir," she said, wondering which turn this roller-coaster assignment was going to take next.
Ten hours later, a knock sounded at Erin's door and her heart rate sprinted. She opened the door and her breath caught at the sight of Daniel in a black tux with a black overcoat and a white cashmere scarf. The image of the American upstart was immediately replaced with that of a sophisticated, dangerously handsome man.
His gaze trailed over her. "You clean up very nicely, Miss Lawrence," he said with a sensual edge to his voice.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. So do—" Appalled, she bit her tongue at the inappropriately personal remark.
His lips curved in a hint of a smile. "Damn. Don't tell me it's improper to compliment the king?"
Erin wondered if her entire body was blushing. His expression made her feel as if he were hungry and she was the first course. "Of course not, sir, but I am in your service."
He nodded. "So what's the proper way to compliment a king?"
Erin took a careful breath and tried to unscramble her brain. "If I may say so, Your Majesty looks quite dashing this evening."
"Dashing," he said. "Sounds like something out of an old English novel. I guess that means it wouldn't be proper to say you look hot enough to start another three-alarm fire in downtown Chicago?"
The same was true of him, she thought. "That's correct, sir," she said.
"But you won't mind if I give the fire department a call to warn them about you," he said, his mouth unsmiling, but his eyes full of masculine humor.
"Me?"
His gaze fell over her with dangerous awareness. "Yes, you."
* * *
Chapter 3
« ^ »
Daniel led Erin through the grand lobby of the hotel where the ball was being held. Sweeping her into a brass-lined elevator, he tugged at his collar as soon as the doors closed. "We won't stay long. I've grown impatient with these affairs during the last couple of years. I'd rather do almost anything than just make an appearance."
"Pardon me, sir, but you know that your appearance at state and social functions will be quite important to the people of Altaria," Erin pointed out.
He nodded. "I know. I can dress to suit the occasion. But I also know that the personality and vision of the man wearing the crown determines his role. I plan to spend as much time doing things as I will spend making appearances."
Erin felt a ripple of uneasiness as she thought of her father's diametrically opposed view of Daniel's role as king. She looked at the strong, dynamic man in front of her and wondered how she would be able to convince him that he would be more of a figurehead. Not bloody likely. Especially when her own opinion was beginning to waver. She felt a lightning-fast jab of pain and slammed the door on her thoughts. She had a job to do for her country, for her father.
Daniel led her away from the main entrance to the ballroom down the hall and to another door. "We decided it would call less attention to me if I weren't announced," he said. "The press will have to search for me."
Erin glanced at him and couldn't help shaking her head at his comment.
He stopped. "What?"
"Nothing, sir," she said.
Daniel sighed. "I really don't want to have to do this, but—"
Erin cringed. She suspected she knew what was coming.
"I order you to tell me what you're thinking," he said. "For the rest of the evening."
Erin gaped at him in shock. "The entire evening, sir?" she echoed, aghast.
He nodded. "So cough it up. Why did you shake your head when I said the press would have to search for me?"
Erin closed her eyes in embarrassment. "Must I, sir?"
"Yes."
She swallowed a howl of frustration. "If you want to avoid attention, sir, you need to shrink your height and intelligence. And you would have to do something to make yourself look more plain. You draw attention just by entering the room."
He dipped his head close to hers. "You're a lot more fun when you're honest," he murmured and took her hand. "Let's go."
He pulled her into a huge room filled with beautifully dressed party-goers. Music emanated from an orchestra playing on the far end. The marble-floored ballroom was decorated with mirrors and crystal chandeliers. Tables of appetizers and pastries lined one corner of the room while waiters carried trays of champagne throughout the crowd.
Erin remembered when she had accompanied her father to other parties. Her job had been essentially to disappear once the announcements had been made. "I can excuse myself while you make your necessary rounds, sir," she offered, disengaging her hand from his.
He frowned at her. "Why?"
"Because I'm certain there are people with whom you must speak, sir."
"Is there a reason you can't speak to them too?"
Confused, she slowly shook her head. "No, sir. I thought my purpose for the evening was to provide the appearance of an escort and stay in the background as much as possible."
"No," he said. "Your job for the evening is to make this bearable, and you can start by ditching the 'sir.' If anyone overhears you, it will make them curious. You probably need to pretend to like me."
Her stomach twisted, and, at a loss, she nervously twined her fingers together. "If I may ask, si—" She broke off. "How am I to make this bearable? And how should I pretend to like you?" she asked, determined to keep the panic from her voice.
He shrugged. "Damned if I know. Here comes my brother Brett. You can practice with him."
Brett patted his shoulder. "Good of you to show up, YM," Brett said, abbreviating the royal address.
"How are you keeping the press at bay?" Daniel asked, surveying the room.
"There are a few here, but they're wearing special name tags and red roses. Who can resist a rose?"
"Clever," Daniel said, admiring his brother's savvy. "I'd like you to meet Erin Lawrence. Erin, this is my brother Brett. He's the master of public relations for Connelly Corporation and the reason I'm here tonight."
Daniel watched his lady-killer brother give Erin a glance of approval and felt a swift jab of protectiveness toward her.
Brett took Erin's hand and lifted it to his lips. "Enchanté mademoiselle."
"Merci beaucoup, Your Hi—" Her eyes widened in alarm as she looked at Daniel. "I'm sorry, si—" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. It slipped."
"Years of breeding," Daniel said dryly.
"I don't mind being called Your Highness," Brett said smoothly. "Particularly by such a lovely young woman."
Daniel fought a ripple of irritation. "Excuse us just a moment," he said to Erin, then moved a few steps away with his brother. "Stop hitting on her. She's young."
"Not that young," Brett said. "Her accent is sexy and that body—"
"She's only twenty-two, and she's spent her life in boarding schools. She might as well have been raised in a convent."
Brett lifted a dark brow. "Who are you trying to convince? Me or you?"
Me, Daniel thought. The last thing in the world he needed right now was to be sexually distracted by his prim and proper protocol instructor, but damned if he wasn't. "How's Mom?" he asked, knowing his mother was still struggling with the double loss of her father and brother.
Brett's face grew serious. "Perfectly composed. Just don't look at her eyes very long or your gut will start to ache for her."
Daniel quickly glanced around the room and spotted his parents. "Dad's sticking by her side."
"Like glue," Brett said.
"That will help," Daniel said.
"Knowing that you're accepting the title and the job that goes with it helps too," Brett added quietly.
Daniel felt a gnawing impatience to get on with his transition, but he knew change took time. "Go make your rounds," he said.
"Thanks for coming. I know it's a strange time for you. If you're smart, though, you could take a little solace from Erin Lawrence."
"There'll be a heat wave in Chicago in January before I take romantic advice from you."
"She looks pretty hot to me," Brett shot back, then scooted through the crowd to avoid Daniel's wrath.
Sighing, Daniel returned to Erin. "I see my parents. Let's go say hello."
Erin lifted her hand to her throat. "Your mother? The princess?"
"My mother, Emma Rosemere Connelly," he said, although he was accustomed to the star-struck response. Emma inspired admiration of mythic proportions. "Remember to ditch the titles," he said, guiding her through the crowd.
His mother was dressed in a black gown. Most would admire her sophisticated beauty and miss the grief, but Daniel immediately caught the sadness in his mother's gaze and felt a twist inside him. He kissed her cheek. "You look beautiful."
Emma smiled. "I'm going to miss you," she said, and turned her gaze on Erin. "Ah, you must be the woman with the formidable job of teaching my son royal protocol. Erin Lawrence. A pleasure to meet you."
Daniel felt Erin start to dip into a curtsey and slipped his arm around her waist to prevent it. She shot him a look of dark chagrin.
"It's my honor to meet you, Your Hi—" She broke off and smiled. "Mrs. Connelly. At the boarding school I attended, you're greatly revered."
"Not always," Emma said with a smile of reminiscence. "Years ago, the teachers despaired over my lack of interest in those tiresome etiquette classes. It's amazing what time and distance can do. Please meet my husband, Grant."
Daniel's father greeted Erin and shook his head. "You're so young for such a challenging job," he said, glancing pointedly at Daniel.
"I was just thinking the same thing," Emma said. "It can be lonely in a different country. You must join us for dinner. I'll call Daniel soon to arrange a time."
"Thank you," Erin said, appearing stunned as Daniel led her away.
He snagged two glasses of champagne and lifted one glass to Erin's lips. "Drink up. Having a father as foreign minister, you must have met plenty of renowned people before."
She took a quick sip, then another. "I have," she admitted. "But your family is so kind. Your mother, your father, your brother, they obviously care for you so much and it's clearly reciprocal. How can you bear to leave them for Altaria?"
Daniel glanced away. She'd unknowingly touched a tender spot he kept concealed. So far, the most difficult part of accepting the throne would be moving far from the people he trusted most to a place where he wasn't sure there would be anyone he could trust. He met her gaze. "I guess a big part of the reason I choose to leave is to honor my family's bond. Nothing will change it, titles, oceans, nothing."
Erin's eyes grew shiny, and she glanced at the floor. He wondered what was racing through her mind.
"Say it aloud," he said.
She looked up at him in surprise. "Pardon?"
"Say what you're thinking."
"I'm trying to imagine what it would be like to have a family like yours, to share that kind of love."
"Don't you have that with your father?"
He looked into her eyes and in one swift moment, he saw a mile-wide streak of loneliness that shook him. As if she were afraid he'd seen too much, she looked away. "Of course," she murmured, but the words were spoken too late with too little conviction.
Daniel would have to think about that later, he decided. When he wasn't thinking about the three hundred other items on his to-do list. He downed the rest of his champagne and glanced at her averted head. "You're falling down on your job," he said.
Her head immediately shot up. "Pardon?"
"You're supposed to make this ball bearable."
"I hadn't quite figured out how to do that," she said and took another sip of her champagne. "What do you usually enjoy doing at these affairs?"<
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"Figuring out how to leave early," he said. "What do you usually enjoy doing at these affairs?"
Her lips twitched. "I make a game of guessing what's in the appetizers, and sometimes I waltz."
"Let's head for the food," he said, guiding her toward the tables laden with food. "I'm not big on waltzing."
"You must waltz," she said firmly. "You will be expected to lead the first dance for many occasions."
"I'll appoint an official waltzing representative," he joked, and chuckled at the look of disapproval she shot him.
They drew near the tables, and Daniel chose an appetizer. He lifted the small bite to his mouth, but Erin stopped him halfway.
"The game is to guess the appetizer before you eat it," she said.
"I thought I was supposed to guess after I ate it."
"That wouldn't present as much of a challenge," she said. "Unless the food is very bad." She eyed the small morsel of food. "I guess that's crab and mushroom."
"I agree," he said.
She looked at him and groaned. "You are supposed to guess something different."
"You stole the best guess," he said with a shrug.
"I didn't steal anything," she protested.
"Let's see if you're right." Daniel lifted the appetizer to her mouth.
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she opened her mouth. Daniel watched her tongue curl around the bite of food and felt an unsettling twist of arousal. Her attempted perfection goaded the hell out of him. She made him want to tease her. He wanted to pull down her hair, make her laugh and mess up her lipstick by kissing the breath and starch out of her.
He had to keep telling himself she was only twenty-two, twelve years younger than he.
She swallowed and licked her lips, and Daniel felt another twist of arousal. The sight of her pink tongue generated a dozen forbidden images in his mind.
"Definitely crab and mushroom," she said. "I choose the next one." She glanced over the table and pointed to a dessert tray. "Your turn to guess."
"That's easy. It's a puff pastry," Daniel said.
"But anything could be inside," she said. "What's inside?"
