The Royal Marriage Arrangement

All the time, Alex muttered inwardly. “Errol Flynn was the only man who became my fantasy. When I saw him in Robinhood, I asked my nanny to take me again and again. We saw it twenty-five times.”

It was his turn to laugh, the full-bodied male kind she felt to her toes. “I understand he still has a habit of speaking to every woman’s soul, even from beyond the grave.”

She nodded. “Some men are like that. Bigger than life.” Alex realized she was looking at one of them.

“Bigger than life,” his voice trailed. “A sort of chemistry of the body and spirit, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes,” she whispered. This was no shallow prince, let alone man.

“That’s what I’d hoped to find before now in the royal pickings, but it hasn’t happened.”

Alex had never given much thought to a problem like his until this minute. She was glad she wasn’t in his royal shoes because she knew herself too well and could never marry anyone for the sake of duty. Perish the thought of being tied to someone you didn’t love with your whole heart and soul.

Obviously, her mother hadn’t had the capacity to truly love anything or anyone except herself. Sometimes it frightened Alex to think that because she was her daughter, she might have inherited that same inability to be devoted to one man.

There’d been boyfriends, but Alex hadn’t yet suffered that grand passion her mother had managed to portray on the screen instead of real life. Maybe Alex never would. Aware something was expected of her, she said, “That could change in time. Some royal princess could come into your life you’ve overlooked. How old are you?”

“Thirty-four.”

Nine years older than herself.

“That’s still relatively young.”

“From my point of view I agree, but my parents had hoped I’d be married by twenty-five and a father by twenty-six. To quote my mother, ‘For you to be thirty-four and still single is positively indecent, Lucca. The whole country is waiting.’”

The way he imitated his parent made Alex chuckle. “At least your mother cares about you and loves you.”

“She does, but there’s more to it than that. My father’s not well and needs to step down. It’s within my power to lengthen his days by becoming king, thus relieving him of all responsibilities, but I can’t become his successor without first taking a wife. Those are the rules.

“As a way of playing on my guilt, my mother and sister continually remind me I’m the only son and the only one who can perform this duty to save the day.”

And Alex had thought she’d lived with a burden all these years.

She smoothed an errant curl away from her forehead. “What’s wrong with your father?”

“He’s had lung cancer.”

“I’m sorry. How cruel to him and hard for all of you.”

“It has been,” the prince conceded, causing her to feel an empathy for him she didn’t want to feel. “Part of his right lung was removed, leaving him in a weakened condition. Though he’s in remission, the doctor says this disease is tenacious and it’s only a matter of time before it comes back. The best medicine for him would be to give up the throne and relax.”

Alex cleared her throat. “Since you love him so much, it seems you don’t have a choice. Is there someone from the royal pickings you believe cares for you enough that you could see yourself married to her?”

“I can’t answer that question since I haven’t given them much of a chance to get to know me. The thought of marriage to any of them is something I can’t abide.”

Well, Alex. Ask a foolish question…

There was one princess Lucca had known for several years. Neither he nor Sofia were romantically involved, but they’d become good friends. Both sets of parents expected them to marry, but she wanted to abdicate her title and serve a humanitarian cause, thus allowing her younger sister to be the next in line. Sofia was waiting for Lucca to marry before she made the secret known to her family.

Out of loyalty to her and her wishes, he’d remained silent. Suddenly restless, he got up from the chair. “I need to choose someone who understands the situation for exactly what it is. No lies. No self-deception or pretense.”

“You mean, someone who has no expectation of love. Is there such a woman?”

“Among my parents’ short list? No.” Except for Sofia. Sofia who devoted her life to charity work in Africa and had a missionary zeal to help people.

He came to sit on the corner of the desk so his legs brushed hers. “But an extraordinary thing happened to me today. I’ve met someone who would be the perfect consort to come to my rescue in this emergency situation. At the same time I could help her in ways no one else can. She’s of royal blood yet is under no illusions about life or me. Better yet, she’s single and uninvolved with a man at present.”

As the portent of his words sank in, Alex’s eyes widened in disbelief. What he’d just intimated was so outrageous, an odd sound escaped her lips. She slid out of the chair to put distance between them.

“You are out of your mind and can’t possibly mean what you’re saying.”

He rose to his intimidating height. “I never say what I don’t mean,” came the words of steel. “When you get to know me better, you’ll realize I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

She shook her head. “So you’ll pay my mother’s debts if I agree to marry you. Then you’ll become king and two strangers will live unhappily ever after in a loveless marriage with no hope of producing an heir and both of us sneaking behind the scenes looking for fulfillment elsewhere.”

He gave a careless shrug of his elegant shoulders. “If that’s what you want.”

Alex hugged her arms to her waist. “What I want doesn’t come into it. This conversation is utterly absurd! Don’t you know that old movie script has been done and redone ad nauseum?”

One dark brow quirked. “But not to the tune of twelve million dollars. That will be my wedding present to you. In return, you’ll play the loving wife in front of other people, be it my family or the public.”

“I will not!”

“I’ve spent time with your great-uncle,” he continued talking, unfazed by her outburst. “Do you know you have the same regal bearing? I noticed it immediately. The perfect plum from the royal Grigory tree.”

She let out a strangled cry that was probably heard by everyone inside the House of Savoy.

“I meant that as a compliment, Alexandra.”

The way he said her name just now with his slight Italian accent made her body tremble. That angered her further.

“However tarnished the sordid legacy from my mother, I’m not a piece of fruit to be plucked!”

His expression grew solemn. “No. Like a gift from the gods you’ve fallen into my hands at the providential moment to save us both from a hideous fate.”

Hideous was the word, all right. The thought of going back to Los Angeles to face her mother’s creditors, to face poor Manny, let alone live with the smear tactics the media would always use against her caused bile to rise in her throat.

“I’m not asking that this arrangement last forever,” he added in a velvety tone.

“Of course not. Just a lifetime,” she blurted on a note of sarcasm.

One dark eyebrow dipped. “Who knows? Neither of us can see that far ahead into the future.”

She bit her lip. “How inconvenient for you.”

“You have no idea,” his voice grated, conveying some deep-seated emotion that caught her on the raw.

“When is your wedding supposed to take place?”

“Preferably yesterday.”

“Obviously.” She tried to hide her smile but lost the struggle.

“To answer your question, my parents have planned it for a month from today. The wedding ceremony will follow my coronation in the cathedral.”

Only four weeks? “I’m sure a royal wedding takes a great deal more time than that to organize.”

“You don’t know my parents. Everything’s been arranged. It’s only a matter of adding one detail… the name of the woman I’ve chosen. They’ve been living for this day.”

“That’s nice. I can’t say the same thing about mine. Now I’m afraid I have to go. My job is waiting for me back in Los Angeles and I have a plane to catch.” She started for the outer door once more.

“Is it your chosen career?”

When she reached it, she looked over her shoulder at him. “What? Putting makeup on movie stars? No. The job chose me and has kept me alive.”

He moved closer. Her heart did a funny kick. “What job would you choose if you could?”

That gave her pause. “You mean, in my wildest dreams?”

It was his turn to chuckle. “Is it that out of the ordinary?”

“For me, yes.”

“You want to be an astronaut?”

“No.” Her mouth curved upward once more. “This is something very down-to-earth.”

“What would that be?”

“It’s as improbable as my meeting a real prince today.”

“Why?”

“In the first place, I have to find a job where I can earn a lot of money in order to pay off mother’s debts before I do anything else.”

“And in the second place?” he queried.

“I don’t know if I could make the grade.”

“Doing what? Humor me,” he prodded.

“Plastic surgery.”

His intelligent gaze grew thoughtful. “Why that particular profession?”

“My mother was labeled the most beautiful woman in the world. Her love affair with herself was obscene. There are people out there born with facial problems who’d give everything they possessed to be able to look in the mirror and not cringe or grieve at the sight.

“If I could change one person’s looks enough to make life more bearable for them, I’d give anything to do it.”

A marked stillness pervaded the atmosphere before he spread his hands in a typical Italian gesture. “A noble aspiration. If that’s your raison d’être, then make it a reality once we’re married.”

Maybe she was hallucinating.

“Why not?” He read her mind. “Castelmare University in Capriccio has a medical school linked with the University of Genoa.”

The man was starting to get to her and that was frightening.

“Look—I was talking about my wildest dreams. The point is, not even I would want to be married to me. And lest you forget, one has to speak Italian to go to your university. For your information, I can only say one word in your language. It’s ciao.”

She opened the door to leave, but it was blocked by the same person as before. Another bodybuilder type was standing behind him. In the next breath she shut it again and turned on the man whose charisma was positively lethal. “Will you please tell Salvatore and his brother out there to let me pass?”

He let out a hearty laugh at her reference to the famous Italian bodyguard Salvatore Bartolotta, who lost his life trying to protect an antimafia prosecutor during the 1930s. While admiring his quick mind, Alex tried hard not to react to his full-bodied response. It made him appear younger and even more appealing. She hadn’t thought it was possible.

“Carlo will be flattered when I tell him. You’re obsessed by the mafia. Why is that, Alexandra? More than likely it was the mob that targeted your father because of his title and financial affluence. When he wouldn’t cooperate, they rubbed him out. I believe that’s the American term.”

The prince knew it was. He was too intelligent by far.

“Wherever the truth lies, anyone linked to the mafia eventually dies like the father I never knew.” She looked down. “I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. You’ve picked the wrong woman to help you out of your nightmare. I need to go home and face mine.”

“I’m not prepared to let you go yet,” he whispered silkily. “A little while ago you accused me of being hard up. That’s putting it mildly. My back’s up against the proverbial wall and my time has run out. I can’t fly home and face my parents without producing the name of my intended bride. As I’ve told you, I’ve been overdue in that department for the past ten years.”

She couldn’t believe she was still standing here listening to him instead of banging on the door to demand her freedom.

“And you honestly believe they’ll be overjoyed you’ve chosen the most unsuitable female on the planet to parade before your kingdom? Marriage to Kathryn Carlisle’s daughter will make you the laughingstock of the civilized world.”

“Let me worry about it.”

“I’ll do better than that. You won’t have to be concerned about anything because my answer is no! Can you imagine what the media would make of it?

“In a shocking palace exclusive today, the bachelor crown prince of Castelmare has bypassed many a royal swan to choose the ugly duckling of the deceased, washed-up American film goddess Kathryn Carlisle for his bride.

“Rumors at court say the prince hasn’t been himself since a golf ball hit him in the temple in Pebble Beach, California, where he was on hand for the U.S. Open with international super-model Germaine.”

His grin disarmed her. “You, of all people, should know better than to believe the tabloids. That ball hit one of my bodyguards in the knee. Any photo of a model was superimposed for effect.”

Her jaw hardened. “Where my mother was concerned, I do believe them. Don’t forget they wrote the truth about her. Marrying you will give them enough fodder to start a whole new feeding frenzy.

“The headlines will read, ‘With the promise of a twelve-million-dollar wedding present, it appears the daughter is following in the footsteps of the mother. Time will tell if this is the first of her many marriages destined to fail. Bets in the Las Vegas underworld are already running high that the marriage will fall apart within months.’”

Something flickered in the dark recesses of his eyes. “Then prove them wrong, Alexandra.”

There he went again saying her name in that unusual way, making her nerve endings tingle. While blood surged into her cheeks, her hands formed fists. “Enough is enough! I could never take your money.”

Lucca liked tangling with her. He’d finally met a woman who set off exhilarating sparks when they were together. He couldn’t remember the last time this had happened.

“Fine. Then become a surgeon and pay back the debt with your hard-earned money. A few operations for those who can afford it and you’ll have wiped your mother’s slate clean as you indicated earlier.”

Her chin lifted. “Even if by some miracle I did get in medical school, I wouldn’t be able to start practicing for another eight years!”

“I’ll pay for your medical school for as long as it takes. Once you do your residency, you’ll receive a salary and can start paying me back like you would a school loan. It’s a good bargain. I guarantee you couldn’t do better with anyone else.”

She stared at him through glazed eyes. “Attending medical school isn’t one of the duties of a king’s consort.”

“My consort will do what she wants because I won’t be a normal sort of king.” He flashed her a self-satisfied smile. “Your only royal duties will be to accompany me on certain occasions that will come up from time to time.”

“I see.”

“I’ll arrange for you to start Italian lessons tomorrow after we arrive at the palace. By the time we’ve returned from our honeymoon six weeks from now, the fall semester will be starting. With the help of a tutor, you’ll be able to keep up with your fellow medical students.”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me. I’m terrible at languages and I’m not going anywhere with you.” Least of all on a honeymoon.

“When I explain your predicament with the American press, my parents will insist you live at the palace for the next month. Being sequestered with the family will protect you from the worst of the media for a while.”

She felt like stomping both feet. “Aside from the fact that you’re speaking pure nonsense, I can’t just quit my job and leave my apartment!”

“We’ll talk about that later.” He checked his watch. “Right now we’re going to meet your great-uncle. He’s the deputy consul at the Russian Federation here in New York. When he finds out you’re his brother’s granddaughter, he’ll be overjoyed and insist we meet to get acquainted.”

The prince moved past her and opened the door where both his bodyguards were still standing on alert. With a hand cupping her elbow he said, “While you visit the ladies’ room on your right, I’ll make the arrangements.

“Don’t take too long. There’s a lot to accomplish before we board my private jet this evening. And one more thing. My name is Lucca. I’d like you to use it.”

CHAPTER THREE

“YURI Pavlovich Grigory? May I present your grand-niece, Princess Alexandra Carlisle Grigory.”

“Alexandra, my child.” The tall, eighty-year-old widower with his strong Russian accent kissed her on both cheeks. “Welcome to the family.”

“I can’t believe I have living family,” Alex whispered shakily, touched by his unexpected warmth. She was still incredulous any of this was happening. If it weren’t for Lucca, she would never have been united with her father’s family, let alone known of their existence.

Though she was indebted to him, she was also terrified because this reunion had come about at a price. There was only one way Lucca wanted repayment, but she couldn’t do what he asked.

“There are quite a few of us Grigorys so you’ll have to believe it.” He chuckled. “Call me Uncle Yuri.”

She blinked back the tears. “If you don’t mind.”

“Mind?” He shook his gray head. “I’d be hurt if you called me anything else. This is a great day. Do you know you’re the living image of my nephew, except you’re much prettier?” He squeezed her hand. “That’s because of your mother. She and Oleg created a beautiful daughter.” His eyes misted over. “If only your father and grandfather could see you.”

“Thank you, Uncle Yuri. I’d give anything to have known them.”

“Well—” He wiped his eyes. “I’ll do my best to tell you all about them. Come into the conference room and we’ll talk over lunch.”

Lucca escorted her through the double doors to the other room where a meal was waiting for them. Over the next few hours her Uncle Yuri told her so many wonderful stories, the time flew by and she never wanted the afternoon to end. Between the pictures and anecdotes, she felt as if she really did belong to a great family.

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