Not-So-Perfect Princess: Not-So-Perfect Princess. Melissa McClone
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Alejandro realized in her mind they were. The least he could do was play along.
“Almost,” he whispered back. “Check your closet this afternoon. Everything you need for tonight will be in there.”
Her mouth formed a perfect O. “My closet? You’re going to go into my room. Isn’t that risky?”
“No one will see me.”
“You can’t be certain. My maid might be—”
“There are secret tunnels and passageways throughout the palace.” He didn’t want her to worry. “You access them through hidden latches in the closets.”
“Oh.”
The one word spoke volumes of her doubt.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
She handed the kitten to him. “I don’t have a choice if I want to go sailing.”
“No, you don’t.”
Alejandro felt like a jerk. He was the last person she should be putting her faith in. He had the most to gain by her marrying Enrique. She had the most to lose by saying “I do.” Okay, his brother wasn’t that bad. But she was still sacrificing for the marriage.
“Not many people would understand how important tonight is to me,” she said. “I trust you won’t let me down.”
He appreciated her earnest expression and words. He was used to those in the palace being unable to see past his rebellions as a teen and his wanting to change the monarchy from the archaic monolith it had become.
But Julianna was far too trusting. She must have lived a sheltered life in Aliestle. Things would be better for her on the island. “You’re the perfect fairy-tale princess.”
Defiance flashed in her eyes, but disappeared quickly. “A princess, yes. Perfect, not so much. Though I try my best.”
“Trying is an admirable trait, but not if it makes you unhappy.”
“Doing what is expected of me is all I know.”
Julianna was nothing like he imagined she would be. She wasn’t jaded in spite of being a royal prisoner her entire life. She was the closest thing to perfection he’d ever met. Alejandro would make sure Enrique treated her fairly. “You do a good job.”
She rewarded him with a closemouthed smile. He would have preferred to see one with her straight, white teeth visible. “I plan to continue to do so.”
Except tonight.
Crossing the line had become second nature to him growing up. Alejandro didn’t do it as often now. Still he didn’t care what anyone thought about him. The lovely princess did care. The way she dressed, spoke and acted made it clear. She might feel the need to rebel in this one-time act of defiance. A brief escape from an impending arranged marriage and a curtailed freedom. But he didn’t want Julianna to have any regrets over what they were going to do.
“Are you certain you want to go against your father and sail tonight?” Alejandro whispered.
“Most definitely.
“You may regret—”
“I’ll regret not doing so more,” she interrupted. “This is the right thing to do. Even if I’m caught.”
Julianna was saying the right words. Alejandro hoped she meant them. Because if she got caught, the price she would pay might be higher than either of them imagined.
That evening, the hands on the clock in the dining room moved slower than the Council of Elders. King Dario sat at the head of the table. His two sons sat on his left with Jules and Brandt on the king’s right.
She tapped her foot, impatient the meal was taking so long. Servers scurried about with wine bottles and platters. She wanted dinner to end so she could excuse herself and prepare for the sail with Alejandro.
He sat across the table from her. No tuxedo, but a designer suit and dress shirt sans tie. He looked more like a CEO than a boatbuilder. Well, except for his hair. The dark ends brushed his shoulders. She preferred his casual, carefree style to Enrique’s short, conservative cut.
She kept hoping Alejandro would say something to turn the dinner conversation away from the upcoming royal wedding and onto something more interesting.
He didn’t. He barely spoke or glanced her way.
No doubt trying to keep anyone from guessing about the rendezvous later. Jules suppressed the urge to smile about her impending adventure.
King Dario yawned. “I’m going to skip having a brandy.”
Alejandro straightened. “Are you feeling okay, Father?”
The king waved off his son’s genuine concern. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Dealing with the demands of the island takes a lot out of a person.” Enrique narrowed his gaze as he spoke to Alejandro. “Something you would know little about, brother.”
Jules waited for Alejandro to fire back a smart-assed comment. He took a sip of wine instead. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. His dark eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. “Sleep well, Father.”
With that, King Dario departed.
Silence filled the dining room. The servers seemed to have vanished along with the king. Jules counted to one hundred by tens in Japanese. When could she say good-night without drawing suspicions to herself?
“I have work to attend to.” Enrique scooted his chair away from the table. “If you do not mind,” he said to her as if an afterthought.
Perfect! Her entire body felt as if it were smiling. “I don’t mind.”
“I was planning to hit the clubs,” Brandt said with eager anticipation in his voice.
Yes! She couldn’t have arranged this any better if she’d planned it. “Take Klaus with you.”
Brandt rolled his eyes.
“Listen to your sister,” Alejandro suggested. “You’ll be thankful you have a bodyguard should things get out of hand.”
“My brother knows the island’s club scene intimately.” Derision dripped from each of Enrique’s word. “He’s often at the center of the melees.”
Jules didn’t like his tone. She often gave her four brothers a hard time and teased them, like any big sister, but she never spoke with such disrespect.
“Please, Brandt,” she said. “Father would never forgive me if something happened to you.”
“And vice versa.” Brandt directed a warm smile full of love her way. “I’ll have Klaus accompany me.”
Relieved, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Enrique remained seated in his chair, but he looked ready to bolt out any minute. She wished he’d go.
“What will you do tonight, Julianna?” he asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” She forced herself not to look at Alejandro. “Read. Watch TV. I’ll find something to do.”
She wiggled her toes in anticipation of what she would actually be doing.
Enrique rose from the table. “Then I’ll bid you good-night and see you tomorrow.”
Jules watched him exit the dining room. The atmosphere seemed less stuffy with Enrique gone. Her uncharitable thought brought a stab of guilt. He was her future husband. She’d best accept him as he was.
Alejandro rose. “I’m going to say good-night, also.”
“Will I see you later?” Brandt asked.
“Not tonight,” Alejandro said. “I have a prior engagement.”
Yes,