Counterfeit Princess

Shannon accepted the prince’s arm as it came around her, leading her into the dance, and she felt her traitorous body begin to respond to him again. It just didn’t make any sense. She’d made up her mind that the man was abhorrent. Why couldn’t the rest of her system get the message?

Still, she’d promised Greta to do something to make amends, and she supposed it was only fair that she do so. After tonight she would never see the crown prince again, but Greta and Freddy—and most of all the real princess—would have to deal with him on a continuing basis. Time to smooth feathers.

She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet his. “I want to apologize for some of the things I said to you earlier. I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”

He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “That is very gracious of you, Princess,” he said.

She waited, holding his gaze with her own, trying not to notice the attractive deep grooves that had once housed dimples in his handsome face, and definitely ignoring the full lips.

“Well?” she said at last.

He looked into her face and it was obvious he knew she was waiting for him to reciprocate. Was that a spark of humor in his silver-blue eyes? Or a flicker of malice?

“Well what?” he asked innocently.

Her own eyes flashed sparks. “Aren’t you going to apologize to me?”

“Certainly. Once I’ve found something wrong with my behavior.”

She stopped the gasp that started up her throat and pressed her lips together. No, she wasn’t going to let him do this to her again. She swallowed hard, forcing back anger. “That’s all I ask,” she said as sweetly as she could.

“All right,” he said grudgingly, as though he’d decided he could at least give her this. “I know we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure I said some things that would have been better left unsaid. So let’s start anew.”

She could tell that she wasn’t going to get anything better from him. Nodding slightly, she gave him a thin smile. “Agreed.”

“Good. That gives us an opportunity to discuss the situation we are in.”

“The situation?”

The situation. She hoped she knew enough about it for discussion. But once again, she would have to be careful she didn’t make any commitments for the princess. Keeping things general sounded like the best way to go. She glanced up at him, then looked away. She felt as though she were preparing for a pop quiz.

“Yes. The situation we both find ourselves in. I have no idea how you feel about it.”

She hesitated. “Why don’t you describe it to me the way you see it?” she said, stalling for time.

“It’s simple enough. I owe your father for his support, both in manpower and in political arm-twisting, in freeing Nabotavia from the radicals. If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be going back.” He turned his brilliant gaze on her. “He asked in return that I marry his beloved daughter. And I promised him I’d do it.”

She studied his face, hoping to find one little kernel of human feeling somewhere in all that beautiful coolness. “That’s it?”

“Yes. What more do you need?” He shrugged. “You have to admit, it is rather awkward for both of us.”

She frowned, wanting to be sure she got this straight. “In other words, you don’t really want to marry the princess.”

He opened his mouth to answer, then frowned at the way she’d put that. “I have promised King Mandrake that I would offer his daughter my name and a place at my side in Nabotavia. And I mean to honor that promise.”

She nodded, reminding herself not to slip into the third person again. “I see. I think I get it. So even though you don’t really want to marry me, you’re bound and determined to do it to pay back King Mandrake.”

“No, you don’t really get it.” He looked pained. “That’s why we need to talk this over.”

She gave him a dubious look. “Yes, I can certainly see the need for some frank conversation.”

“Very good. The sooner the better.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why don’t we find a more private area and…”

“Oh no.” She saw where this was going and she wasn’t going to go there. He wanted time alone while he probed her mind for her real reactions to marrying him? What a recipe for complete disaster.

He blinked, looking down at her in surprise, as though he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right. “No?”

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

She’d promised Greta she would repair the break and she felt she’d taken care of things on that score. Her obligations were fulfilled and she was going home. She sighed with relief as the dance came to an end. This time she wasn’t waiting for anyone to fetch her and she slipped out of Marco’s arms. Gathering a handful of skirt, she smiled at him.

“Thank you very much for a lovely evening. It’s been most interesting. And now, I’ll bid you good night.”

And she turned and sped away, knowing she was leaving a very perplexed royal behind, but not really caring a bit.

Shannon was out in front of the hotel only a few minutes later, waiting for the limousine that would take her back to real life. She was still tingling from her encounter with the crown prince. She hoped never to see him again but the memory of all that masculine elegance would be a treasured one for a long time. A young woman like her—a graduate art history student paying her way through college as a hostess in a Texas steak house—didn’t get too many opportunities to see royalty up close and personal.

“It’s been fun,” she murmured to herself, craning her neck to see if the limousine was coming, “but thank goodness it’s over.”

Greta and Freddy were lingering inside, saying goodbye to old friends and acquaintances, but Shannon was anxious to leave her semi-royal life behind. And somewhat nervous about getting away from the hotel before the prince showed up and tried to talk to her again.

A long, sleek limousine pulled up and a mournful-looking man stepped out, leaving the passenger side door open and indicating he’d done so for her convenience.

“If you please, Your Highness,” he said, making a sweeping movement with his arm and bowing in her direction.

“Thank you,” she said, bending to slip into the back seat, relieved that she was going to make her escape. Fussing with her long skirt, she didn’t notice that the back seat was already occupied until she’d set herself down in the corner and looked up. And then, her gaze meeting the calm demeanor of the crown prince, she gasped. “You!”

She’d barely got the word out when the door slammed shut and the driver of the limousine began to cruise toward the highway.

“Princess,” Marco said, bowing slightly from where he sat. “I’m honored that you have agreed to join me in a ride to see the lights of the city.”

She gaped at him, outraged. “I have done no such thing and you know it.”

His gaunt, shadowed face showed no reaction. “We need to talk.”

“You may need to talk. I need to get some sleep. Turn this thing around and take me back right now!”

His jaw tightened. “Iliana, be reasonable. We need to get some things settled between us.”

She looked at him helplessly. She was stuck and she knew it. And all for nothing. She couldn’t settle anything. She wasn’t in the position to make promises. Or even to tell simple truths. He was going to ask all sorts of things she couldn’t answer. Now what?

She made one last pathetic attempt to change his mind.

“I really can’t go with you. I have a headache. I need to get home. And anyway, Greta and Freddy won’t know what’s happened to me.” She looked back longingly toward the fading lights of the hotel where those two were still chatting with old friends.

“My man Jordan will stay behind and fill them in,” the crown prince said reassuringly. “I’ll make sure you get home in one piece.”

Home! That was another problem. She couldn’t let him drop her at the little house in the modest suburb where she actually lived. And if he took her out to the princess’s ranch, it would be daybreak before she made her way home again.

She turned to look at him, dismayed. He was certainly making her life difficult. Her chin came up and her eyes flashed. “I insist that you turn this car around and take me back,” she said, surprising herself with how imperious she sounded.

Her manner appeared to surprise him, too. He actually seemed to look at her for the first time and really see how upset she was.

“I’m sorry, Iliana,” he said quietly. “I can’t do that. We must talk and we don’t have much time. This has got to be settled right away.”

She stared at him and realized she was at a crossroads. She could throw a tantrum until he got so disgusted with her he dropped her on the closest street corner. Or she could tough it out, do what she could to avoid answering direct questions, and hope for the best. With a sigh, she opted for the latter.

“All right, Your Royal Highness,” she said, settling back into the plush cushions. “Since I’ve been shanghaied, I guess I might as well make the best of it. Let’s talk.”

Chapter Three

Marco pulled open his tie, glancing at Princess Iliana. Now that he had her here, he could relax. He purposefully worked his shoulders, loosening them, releasing tension, and stretched his long legs out before him. His original reaction to the beautiful woman beside him had mellowed somewhat. She wasn’t as bad as he’d insisted she was when he’d talked to Jordan, but she certainly had turned out to be very different from what he’d first expected.

But what had he expected exactly? Ever since he’d made the alliance with King Mandrake and agreed to marry his daughter, people had been whispering warnings in his ear. Or shouting them at full volume. He almost grinned, thinking of his mother-in-law, Lady Judith, who had been explicit.

“You can’t marry that woman. She’s a floozy.”

The mother of his beloved wife Lorraine, Judith was still a major factor in his life as well as the main caretaker of his two young children. Her opinion mattered. Still, he was a man who believed in keeping his word. Breaking the promise he’d made to King Mandrake would threaten the stability of his newly freed country. His own personal happiness wasn’t as important as the well-being of his country.

For just a moment a picture flashed into his mind. A small, slender pixie of a woman was dancing before him, her dark eyes warm with laughter, her short-cropped gamin hair hugging her head. “Catch me if you can, Mister Crown Prince,” she teased him as she darted away, and his heart twisted with love for her.

His wife, Lorraine, had died almost two years before and the pain sometimes swept through him in a wave that choked and weakened. He pushed her memory away. He wasn’t going to think of her. He couldn’t allow himself the self-indulgence of it. He had to live in the here and now. He had a country to run. And he had to prepare to take a new wife, no matter how much that thought repelled him.

He’d forgotten the princess sat beside him until she said something and he turned toward her with a start, then realized she was asking for a drink of water. Nodding, he pulled an ice-cold bottle out of the little refrigerator and handed it to her, studying her quietly as he did so.

Iliana looked nothing like Lorraine. That was good. It was going to be difficult enough to avoid making comparisons as it was. He had to treat this as a whole new experience. Lorraine was a love match. This was…something else. The capacity for romantic love had died in him the day Lorraine was killed.

At the same time, he couldn’t help but feel Judith was wrong. This woman was no floozy.

“Dallas is beautiful,” he said, looking out at the sparkling lights set in the blackness of the night as the limousine cruised down the highway.

“Yes,” she responded. “And it’s even better when you can actually see it.”

He almost smiled and he had to admit, that was progress. Her quips were beginning to seem more amusing than annoying. “Why did you pick Dallas, Iliana?” he asked.

“Why did I pick Dallas?” she echoed blankly, ready to bristle.

“What made you move here?”

“Oh.” She avoided his gaze. What was the reason again? Greta had filled her in. Oh yes. “My father bought the ranch for me.” She looked at him sideways. “He was hoping to interest me in settling down in a nice town where there was an established Alovitian community he would have ties to.”

“And away from the bright lights of the big bad coastal cities?”

“Exactly.”

“And did his ploy work?”

“Well….” She frowned. This weaving in and out of what she could actually say was getting tiring fast. “I have to say I do love Dallas,” she said quickly instead of answering. “I’ve been very happy here.”

She looked into his eyes, noting the intelligence that shone from them, but also the moody restlessness that seemed to lurk in the dark shadows. As she was calming down and taking this conversation as the currently necessary evil that it was, she was losing some of her animosity toward him. He was still high-handed and arrogant—but hey, he was a crown prince. That was part of his role in life, she supposed. She just had to remember that she was a princess and therefore didn’t need to give way to him entirely.

She tried to put herself in his position. Here he was, talking to the woman he had arranged to marry, trying to find out…what? What could she tell him that would put his mind at ease and make him stop asking her questions she could never hope to answer? In his next statement, he told her.

“What I really want to do is to get to know you better.”

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