Prince of Midtown / Marriage, Manhattan Style: Prince of Midtown

At the end of another long hallway, Sebastian led her through an open pair of double doors into the most glorious room she’d ever seen.

A vast bed filled the center of the huge chamber. Silk curtains billowed from a central point in the ceiling and cascaded down to form a luxurious canopy. The bed itself was lush with patterned pillows and soft-looking covers.

If there were a pea under that mattress, it wouldn’t bother her one bit.

“I hope you’ll be comfortable. You can ring this bell if you need anything.” He pointed to a tiny golden bell, resting on a magnificent gold-inlaid dressing table. “Or call me on my cell.” He yawned. “I need some shut-eye.”

He closed the door behind him as he left.

In a panic, Tessa realized she didn’t have her bag. She rushed to the door, then the open closet caught her eye.

Her clothes hung inside it.

She inhaled, and walked over. Yes, they were really her clothes, with her unpacked duffel bag placed neatly on the floor of the closet.

She swallowed and lifted her nightgown from a hanger. She’d splurged on a gauzy white cotton gown, trimmed with lace, that seemed appropriate for sleeping in a palace.

In front of the magnificent silk-draped bed, however, her nightgown looked more suitable for a milkmaid.

She changed, washed her face at the polished brass basin in the bathroom and brushed out her hair.

She stood for a moment at one of the long windows, holding the heavy drape back. Pale moonlight poured onto the floor at her feet, making the mosaic sparkle.

She climbed onto the cloudlike softness of the high bed, under the layered canopy.

She really should call Patrick in New York. She’d promised to let him know she arrived safely. He’d insisted on knowing every detail of her itinerary so he could get in touch with her at any time.

He was just like that. Caring.

But surely he wouldn’t mind if she called first thing in the morning?

It was nearly nine when Tessa finally awoke and peered at her watch in the curtained gloom. She could hear noise outside the windows, the distant honking of car horns, the mutter of conversations, even a clatter of hooves.

She sprang off the bed and hurried to the window. Bright golden sunshine streamed in as she parted the curtains.

Wow.

The room had a magnificent view over the city. Whitewashed buildings clung to the hillsides, their simple, organic shapes suggesting that they’d been there almost as long as the land itself.

The procession of crisp, white walls descended gradually toward a wide bay. Long seawalls created from massive stone blocks encompassed the harbor like two welcoming arms, the sea within them as calm as a pond.

The whole effect was like something out of an ancient myth. She half expected to see Helen of Troy sail into the harbor on a trireme rowed by a hundred oarsmen.

But modern life intruded cheerfully on the ancient splendor. Cars wound up and down the hill toward the harbor. Laughter and the strains of a Madonna hit mingled with the song of birds that fluttered back and forth between tall cypress trees.

Her cell chimed and vibrated on the dresser. She rushed to grab it. Patrick.

“Hi.”

“I’ve been worried sick. I even checked the airline flight data to see if there were reports of an accident. Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, we got here so late and I was tired. It’s sweet of you to worry, but really, I’m fine.”

“Do you have your own room?”

She laughed. “No, I’m in the harem with all the king’s wives.” He didn’t laugh back. “Of course I have my own room, silly. And it’s so beautiful. But I’m not sure my blow-dryer will work here.”

“Do be careful of the voltage. You never know what to expect with foreign wiring. I am worried about you being all alone in a foreign country.”

“I’m not alone. I’m with Sebastian.” “I know.”

When she finally got Patrick off the phone with assurances that she had not been killed in a midair collision or sold into slavery, she had a quick shower. As she suspected, her dryer was a useless lump of plastic and metal since the wall outlet was a different shape than her plug. She towel dried her hair as best she could and was putting moisturizer on her face when she heard a knock on the door.

She almost dropped the bottle. “Come in?” The uncertainty in her own voice made her even more nervous.

The door flung open. Sebastian stood silhouetted against the bright corridor. “I trust you slept well.” His soft voice wrapped around her like the warm morning breeze.

“I did.” She pushed back a hank of her still-damp hair. “I can’t get over how lovely it is here.”

He smiled. “You’ve seen nothing yet. Come, eat.” He held out his arm for her to take it. He wore a collarless white linen shirt. Tailored black pants added to the impression of casual elegance.

Not that she cared what her boss wore.

Tessa walked across the room, the skirt of her pale green dress swishing around her legs, then matched his long stride down the colonnaded hallway.

He directed her into another wide, bright chamber. Floor-to-ceiling frescoes depicted a magnificent procession of men and horses, pennants flying.

Tessa tugged her gaze from the art and focused on the other people in the room. A middle-aged man and woman sat at one end of a long, white stone table.

“Mama, this is Tessa, my New York assistant.”

The woman rose from her carved chair, tall and graceful, her silver hair pulled back into a chignon. She held out a heavily ringed hand and Tessa hurried forward to shake it.

“It’s an honor,” murmured Tessa, attempting a curtsey.

This was The Queen.

“And this is my dad.”

Tessa shook his offered hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”

Maybe he heard her voice shake, but the king patted her hand gently and looked at her with the kindest eyes she’d ever seen. “The pleasure is all mine, my dear.”

He also had silver hair, with patches of black above his ears that indicated it must once have been as dark as Sebastian’s.

“What’d the cook rustle up for us this morning?” Sebastian reached forward and grabbed a rasher of bacon, then popped it in his mouth. “Mmm.” He pulled out a chair for Tessa, directly opposite the queen. She slid into it as gracefully as she could.

A plate materialized in front of her immediately, borne by a silent servant.

“Do help yourself, dear,” the queen said in perfect, British-accented English. “If you don’t see anything you like, we can have something prepared.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, it all looks marvelous.”

Tessa had no appetite whatsoever in the presence of three crowned heads—including Sebastian. She’d never paid much attention to his being a prince before, perhaps because the whole concept of royalty seemed rather alien back in the States. Amidst the splendor of the royal palace, however, it was impossible to forget.

Sebastian offered her various dishes, and she took a small amount of each. Eggs scrambled with herbs, freshly baked rolls covered in fragrant sesame seeds, crispy bacon and spicy sausages, fresh peaches and plums, sliced and laid in an interwoven pattern, and a dish of creamy yogurt with sweet, golden honey.

“Tessa, what part of the States are you from?” The queen’s question had a tone of mild interrogation.

“Connecticut.”

“A lovely state. Are you near Greenwich?”

“Yes, very close.” In geography. In lifestyle, though, a million miles.

Tessa hated saying where she was from. Wealthy and privileged people immediately assumed she was one of them. It was embarrassing for everyone when they eventually found out she wasn’t.

That’s when she learned who her real friends were.

She had to give Sebastian credit. He hadn’t blinked when she told him she was a scholarship student.

But why would he care? She was just his employee.

“And what does your father do, dear?” The queen lifted an elegantly arched brow.

Jeez. Was she back in high school? Rich people could be very predictable. “He’s retired now.”

She sipped her juice. Partly to prevent her tongue from saying, He’s a retired school custodian. Yes, you heard right, he cleaned the school. Not quite what you were expecting, was it?

The queen’s tight smile did nothing to soothe her churning stomach. Suddenly she wished she was back home, under the covers in her familiar apartment.

Still, she attempted to act normal and make polite conversation during the meal, instead of gazing around the room and gawking at her companions.

It wasn’t easy.

When the king and queen left the room together, it was all she could do not to sag in her chair in relief.

“More yogurt?” Sebastian lifted the ornate golden urn that looked as though it had been passed down at least ten generations.

“No, thanks. I really should get to work. Would you please show me where the files are? I want to dig out what we’ll need for the meeting.”

“Absolutely not.” He rose in a swift motion. “We have far more important things to do.”

“Like what?”

“You must see our country. More coffee?”

“No, thanks, I’m fine. I might blast off if I drink more of that stuff.”

“Good, right?”

She couldn’t resist smiling in response to his enthusiastic grin. “Fantastic.” Her toes tingled at the idea of exploring the world she’d glimpsed from her window. “Could we go see the harbor?”

“Of course.” Sebastian rose from his chair and held out his hand for her to take it.

He never did that at the office.

Tessa slid her fingers into his strong hand, and let him pull her from her chair. He didn’t move out of the way as she stood, so she found herself dangerously close to his muscled chest. His warm, male scent of sunshine and spice.

Her skin prickled at his nearness.

Why didn’t he move?

His dark eyes drifted over her pale green dress. “You look lovely today, Tessa.”

“Thanks.” She swallowed.

He never usually noticed what she was wearing.

He hadn’t let go of her hand, either. Her palm heated against his.

What was he up to?

Four

“Your hair is wavy.” Sebastian’s gaze followed the undulating mass of hair that she’d tied back with a clasp before breakfast.

Tessa’s hand sprang self-consciously to her head. At least it was nearly dry. “My dryer didn’t fit the outlet.”

Sebastian reached behind her head, his arm almost brushing her cheek in a swift movement that made her gasp. With thumb and finger he unsnapped her hair clip and removed it. Her hair tumbled down her back.

His eyes shone with appreciation. “You should always wear it like this.” He pocketed her clip. “Why do women scorch the natural beauty out of their hair?”

“It looks neater blow-dried straight.”

“I disagree.” He reached into her hair.

Tessa fought the urge to protest. This was totally unprofessional! He stroked her hair. Heat rippled in her belly and she swallowed the desire to purr like a contented cat.

She gulped for air. Had he forgotten she had a boyfriend? “Where are we heading?”

“The harbor. I’ll phone ahead and have my boat prepared.”

He withdrew his hand from her hair and reached into his pocket for his cell.

Oh, how the other half lived.

Tessa expected a chauffeured limousine—especially since that’s how Sebastian generally moved around New York.

But no. They left the palace on foot, through an arched doorway that took them out onto one of the winding cobbled streets flanked with whitewashed buildings.

She was even more astonished when Sebastian stopped to greet ordinary citizens. He seemed to know everyone on a first-name basis, and inquired after their families and their businesses like an old friend.

Weirder still, Tessa found she could understand snatches of conversation, although she’d never had the need to learn the Caspian language.

After a few introductions, she made a halting attempt to greet an elderly man in Caspian.

Sebastian rewarded her efforts with a broad grin. “You speak like a native.”

“No, I don’t! But I’m having fun trying. How come so many of the words sound familiar?”

“Did you study Latin in school?”

“I went to St. Peter’s.” She chuckled. “You know the snootiest prep school on the East Coast made everyone take Latin.”

“That’s why you understand us. Caspians speak a dialect of Latin that’s changed little since the time of the Roman Empire. Add a vowel at the end of a few words, and you’re speaking Caspian. Some words haven’t changed at all. Te amo, for example, still means I love you.”

Mischief sparkled in his eyes.

Tessa ignored the rush of heat to her chest. He was toying with her! What a nerve. Just because she’d handed in her notice he thought he could let loose and flirt with her before she quit?

Te amo. Yeah. Right. As if she was dumb enough to join the cohorts of women notched on his bedpost. Maybe he thought it would be fun to make her fall in love with him—then dump her—as punishment for quitting her job and leaving him in the lurch.

Sebastian had a reputation for treating seduction as a sport. His little black book—little BlackBerry, rather—must have a thousand names in it. She knew about all those starlets and models and fashion designers, not to mention tennis star Andrea Raditz and soccer champion Leah Mannion. Oh, yes, and half his graduating class at Brown University. And let’s not even get into all those British girls he’d romanced during his years at Eton.

Loving Sebastian was a game with a very crowded playing field, and she had no intention of joining in.

When they reached the end of a row of stuccoed buildings, Tessa stood facing the magnificent bay she’d seen from her room.

The sea breeze cooled her, and the salt air mingled with the sharp scent of lemons piled high on a nearby market stall.

“This scene looks as if it hasn’t changed in two thousand years.”

“It probably hasn’t, at least on the surface. The wireless Internet is pretty recent.” He flashed a sly smile. “No one’s sure who first built this harbor. It’s been here for all of recorded history.”

They walked toward the water. Almost turquoise in the shallow bay, it lapped against ancient blocks of stone worn smooth by the passage of a million feet.

A long painted boat bobbed a few feet offshore, and Sebastian waved to the man seated in its prow. He punted the boat alongside the quay, and lashed it to a giant iron ring.

The boatman was young and handsome. Tessa found herself held on both sides by gorgeous Caspian men as she stepped down into the rocking, red interior.

Sebastian jumped in after her. He landed so lightly on his feet, the boat barely twitched. “Feels good to be back on the water. A true Caspian gets edgy on dry land for too long.”

He settled back into a red velvet banquette that spanned the width of the boat. “Give us the full tour, Dino. Tessa has never been to our country before.”

“That is deprivation, indeed,” said Dino, in unaccented English.

“Ita vero,” agreed Tessa in Latin.

Sebastian grinned. “Show-off.”

Tessa raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and?”

He leaned back on the seat and once again wove his long fingers into the thick, loose mass of her untamed hair. “I like a woman who’s not afraid to show what she’s made of,” he whispered.

Dino tactfully kept his eyes on the harbor wall as they rowed toward it.

Tessa’s blood heated with a mix of excitement and confusion. Her nipples rose to meet the delicate chiffon of her summery dress, and she became instantly aware that they were likely visible, since the strappy design didn’t allow for a bra.

“What impressive stonework,” she exclaimed, to draw Sebastian’s eyes away. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was aroused. “How did they get it here?”

“Historians speculate that they floated the huge carved blocks out there on wooden rafts. They also talk about a giant golden statue that used to guard the entrance to the harbor.”

“What happened to it?”

“Some people think it’s buried under the sand out there.

A team of archaeologists once tried to find it, but they couldn’t. With new sonar technologies, though, it might be worth another look.”

“Could be an interesting tourist attraction.”

“Exactly.”

Attracting people to Caspia was a passion of Sebastian’s. Now that she was here, she could see why. “How come there hasn’t been much tourism until now? It’s so incredibly beautiful.”

The sun sparkled on the clear, shallow water. She could see the clean sandy floor below. A boat loaded with freshcaught fish chugged by, heading for the quay.

“For so long, we had no hotels, no advertising, an obscure language that no one speaks.” He glanced at her, sun dancing in his dark eyes. “Much as it pains me, I suspect the average person still isn’t even aware Caspia exists.”

He turned to stare at a white-sailed yacht cruising nearby. “Tessa, does that man look familiar?”

She squinted against the high sun and looked at a tall, tanned man with salt-and-pepper hair in a yellow polo shirt. She recognized his face from the TV news. “It looks like Senator Kendrick. What would he be doing here?”

Sebastian grabbed a pair of binoculars out of a compartment under the seat. “I thought so. He used to live in my building.” He leaned over the side of the boat. “Michael! Charmaine!”

He spoke rapidly in Caspian to the boatman, who steered in their direction. Within minutes, Sebastian was helping Tessa up the ladder into the Kendricks’ yacht.

Sebastian kissed them on both cheeks and introduced her. Nervous, she babbled that she was his assistant visiting from New York.

“I can’t believe you came to Caspia without letting me know,” Sebastian chided gently.

“We didn’t really plan our visit,” Mrs. Kendrick explained. “Michael decided to surprise me with a whirlwind tour of the Mediterranean to celebrate our thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

Thirty years? Tessa hoped she looked that good ten years from now. Charmaine Kendrick’s short, blond hair swept back to reveal an alert face. Her rose-colored shorts showed off fit, tanned legs.

“And naturally we couldn’t sail right past Caspia,” cut in the senator. “Not after you’ve sung its praises to us so often.”

“You can see I wasn’t exaggerating.” Sebastian had his arm around both of them. “I’ll be deeply offended if you won’t join us at the palace for lunch.”

Mrs. Kendrick brightened at this suggestion, but her husband quashed it with the explanation that they had a strict itinerary to stick to.

“Twenty ports in twenty days.” Charmaine laughed. “We’re expected in Piraeus tomorrow morning.”

“What can I show you of Caspia while you’re here? The ancient market? The early Christian frescoes? The Ottoman mosque?”

Tessa’s ears pricked up. She silently voted for the frescoes.

Mrs. Kendrick shielded her eyes from the sun with a manicured hand. “Oh, my goodness, does that sign say Dolce & Gabbana?”

“It does.” Sebastian grinned. “And that’s BCBG Max Azria right next to it. How about some shopping?”

The senator clapped Sebastian on the back. “Charmaine never says no to shopping.”

“Well, dear, we do have a lot of functions to go to. And I didn’t realize it would still be so warm at this time of year.”

“And scanty evening wear is something I never say no to.” Senator Kendrick’s tanned face eased into a grin.

The senator begged off going ashore with them and asked Tessa to keep him company while Sebastian took Mrs. Kendrick to the stores in his gondola.

Tessa didn’t mind. She’d rather sit on a yacht and watch the water than shop any day. And if she remembered right, Senator Kendrick was a keen supporter of spending for education, a cause she held dear.

He guided her to the front of the yacht, where two padded seats looked out over the prow. She eased herself in next to him.

“So, you’re Stone’s assistant?”

“Yes.” She turned to Kendrick with a smile. “I’m here to organize a meeting.”

“Working for royalty must be rather bizarre for a girl used to American democracy.” He puffed his athletic chest inside his lemon polo shirt.

“It was a bit strange at first, but I don’t think much about it. The people of Caspia seem very content with their royal family.”

“I don’t suppose they have much choice.” Senator Kendrick leaned in. His grin gave her a close-up of his blazing white teeth. There was something weird about his skin. Smooth and shiny, it looked like the skin of someone who’d had dermabrasion to erase wrinkles.

She looked over to the quay, where Sebastian was helping Mrs. Kendrick out onto the stone sidewalk that flanked the row of luxury boutiques.

“You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

“I guess I’m just dazzled by the view.” His pale blue eyes fixed on hers. “I’m rather dazzled by it myself.”

Something about the way he stared at her made Tessa’s stomach tighten.

“Too much foreign food and foreign scenery makes me pine for a little taste of home.” He leaned in so close that his freckled arm brushed against hers. Her hairs stood on end.

She forced a laugh. “You’re craving corn dogs and apple pie?”

“Something like that. I bet you’re tired of being hit on by swarthy Mediterranean men.”

“Not at all. The Caspians I’ve met have been very polite and charming.”

“Carrying a torch for your prince, are you?” Senator Kendrick’s salt-and-pepper eyebrow lifted.

“What?”

“I suppose all silly young girls fill their heads with fantasies of crowns and coronets. An American senator has a good deal more power than a tin-pot monarch.”

“I imagine that’s a matter of opinion.”

Her stomach knotted. It would be tough to swim for shore in the long dress. She’d lost sight of Sebastian, too. He’d gone into one of the shops.

She decided to redirect the conversation. “What do you think about mandatory school testing? Do you think it ensures an even playing field, or do you think it makes teachers gear lessons too much toward the tests?”

Senator Kendrick threw his head back and guffawed with laughter. “I came here to get away from all that claptrap and political bull. Now I’m sailing on a boat with a beautiful blonde and she wants to bend my ear about education? I feel as if I’m back in New York.”

The disgust in his voice made her eyes widen. She thought she caught a whiff of something on his breath, too. Whiskey?

She gathered her skirt about her knees and groped for a good excuse to leave the intimate seating.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’d like to take a walk on the deck.”

“It’s a small yacht. There’s barely room to take three steps.” His pale eyes narrowed. He leaned over her and trapped her with his arm by placing his hand on the armrest on the far side of her. “I can think of some far more interesting things to do.”

He’s going to kiss me.

The thought rushed Tessa’s brain as his pursed lips rushed her mouth.

Instinct kicked in. Since she couldn’t pull back, she whipped forward and smashed him in the nose with her forehead. She was on her feet and back on the deck in seconds. A young male sailor knelt nearby, winding some rope.

Senator Kendrick appeared around the sail, rubbing his nose. He glared at her. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t.” She stood with her hands on her hips.

Now that her adrenaline was flowing she’d like him to try that again. She’d enjoy pitching him into the drink.

Maybe he read her mind, because he disappeared down some stairs into the belly of the boat.

She dusted her hands, which felt oddly satisfying. Hopefully her forehead wouldn’t bruise. What a jerk! Did he think she’d want to kiss him?