Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince. Melissa McClone
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strong arms righted her so she was standing upright. “Yes,” she said grateful. “Thanks to you.”
“Only a few more steps.”
Thank goodness. Her entire body trembled. Not because of the near fall, but because of Niko. Looks aside, his compelling presence drew her in like a tow truck’s winch. She needed to get away from him.
As soon as Izzy reached the tarmac, she slid her arm from his. The chauffeur opened the back door. She climbed inside. Leaning back against the leather seat, she stretched out her legs, relieved to be away from Niko.
He slid into the limousine and sat next to her even though the rest of the seats were empty. Darn the man. Didn’t he understand the concept of personal space?
His thigh pressed against hers. Not on purpose, she thought. Still her temperature rose.
The prince might be a hottie, but he was off-limits. He was her husband, but he planned on marrying someone else. His heart wasn’t on the open market. She couldn’t allow herself to be attracted to him.
Izzy scooted away. She needed something to defuse her growing awareness to him. “Where’s Jovan?”
“In the front with the driver.” Niko pressed a button and lowered the dark glass separating the back of the limousine from the front. “Jovan is making sure everything will be ready for you to shop today.”
“I don’t have to go shopping today.”
“I know you are tired. I wish you could have more time to adjust, but my parents expect you to attend dinner tonight.”
“Tonight?” Her voice cracked. “That’s, um, nice of them, but dinner isn’t really necessary. I mean, in a few days, we won’t even be married.”
“Our parents were friends. They orchestrated our wedding,” Niko explained. “You are and always will be a princess of Vernonia and should consider us family.”
Family.
Izzy felt a pang in her heart.
The word family brought up all kinds of strange emotions. Ones she’d tried to ignore while growing up. She’d never had any family except Uncle Frank. “That’s a generous offer, but I feel more like a serf than a royal.”
“A royal serf,” Niko said. “An oxymoron.”
“How about a royal waif?” she suggested.
Laughter danced in his warm eyes. “Serf, waif or princess, you’ll find acceptance here, Isabel.”
The only people who had ever accepted her were back at Rowdy’s garage, but she appreciated Niko trying to make her feel better. She stifled a yawn.
“After you rest, you will shop. Someone will help you select and organize the various outfits you’ll need.”
“Um, thanks.” Izzy didn’t know whether to be offended or grateful he was providing her help. She didn’t care about what was in style or not, but she wasn’t colorblind. “I don’t need a lot.”
“Most women like having several different outfits.”
“I’m not like most women.”
His gaze raked over her. “No, you are not.”
She didn’t think he intended that to be a compliment, but she wasn’t offended. His words reaffirmed what she already knew. Izzy Poussard wasn’t princess material. She didn’t belong in Vernonia. She needed to take care of business, learn about her family and return home to Charlotte.
As the limo left the airport, Niko pointed out the window toward a town up ahead. “We’re entering the capital city.”
Izzy was surprised to see a city smaller and more compact than Charlotte with narrower roads. But the commotion on the streets suggested a busy, bustling town.
A crane lifted steel girders while men in yellow hard hats guided them onto the fourth floor of a construction site. Next door, scaffolding covered the front of a new office building and men painted. Across the street, a woman in a multicolored skirt, boots and long sweater pushed a baby stroller. Two teenagers kicked a soccer ball back and forth as they hurried past the woman and child. A man in a business suit glanced at the limousine before hurrying into a newer five-story building made of steel and glass.
“What do you think?” Niko asked.
“It’s very modern for a country that allowed children to marry.”
“I told you, that is against the law now.”
“Yes, you did.” She didn’t see any garbage or graffiti anywhere. That was quite an achievement. “Everything is so new and clean. Even the streets.”
“This part of town was demolished by bombing,” he explained. “Rebuilding takes time and money. Projects are being spread out to best utilize our resources.”
The limousine drove into another part of town. This section consisted of smaller stone and brick rectangular buildings each painted a different color. Some were new, but many were older. Several had window boxes, but no flowers. “Is this a residential area?”
“Yes.”
Izzy noticed one similarity among the colorful homes. Holes on almost every structure. Bullet pocks? she wondered.
A memorial sign hung on a pole. Flowers and pictures were attached. She shuddered.
“I can’t imagine what living through a war must be like. Just watching the television coverage of 9/11 was difficult. Granted I was a teenager, but this …” A weight pressed down on her chest. “I hope this never happens again.”
“I intend to make sure it doesn’t,” Niko stated firmly. “War is never pleasant, but fighting amongst your own is particularly brutal. Friend against friend. Brother against brother. Both the Loyalists and the Separatists accepted the treaty unanimously. Our postconflict elections have gone well. We are fortunate to have not faced some of the problems that have plagued other Balkan countries. I am determined to see that peace is upheld and good triumphs for all Vernonians. No matter what side they supported in the conflict.”
Her respect for him rose. “Good luck.”
“Thank you.”
The limousine left the town behind and traveled up a steep hill. Tall trees lined both sides of the road and cast shadows on the pavement. As the car crested a bump, she saw a castle in the distance.
Her heart beat triple time.
A fairy-tale castle, so perfect it appeared to have been painted on a canvas of blue. Turrets jutted into the sky. Leaded glass windows sparkled. Silver roof tiles gleamed beneath the morning sun. She’d never seen anything so beautiful in her life.
“Wow.”
“We are fortunate the castle remained in such good shape given the battles fought here,” Niko said. “The wall took several mortar hits, but that was the worst of the damage.”
“Thank goodness.” Jovan turned around from the front seat. “The royal family stayed in residence during the conflict.”
“When we weren’t fighting,” Niko said.
Izzy was surprised a royal would be out on the front line. “You fought in the war?”
“Yes.” The one word spoke volumes. “Stefan and I fought with the loyalists to preserve the boundaries and traditions of all people.”
Izzy could imagine Niko as a warrior, fierce and hard, defending his people to the death. That took courage and strength. She pointed to the jagged scar on his cheek. “Did you get that fighting?”
“Yes, we are all marked in some way by the conflict,” he said. “Some scars are physical. Others are not.”
Did Niko have other scars? Hidden ones? Izzy wanted to know,