Not-So-Perfect Princess: Not-So-Perfect Princess. Melissa McClone
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when she talked about sailing. Only a talented actress could feign that kind of interest.
Maybe there was more to her than Alejandro realized.
Not that it mattered. He picked up his wineglass and sipped. Not much anyway.
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER DINNER, Jules stood out on the terrace alone. Cicadas chirped. A breeze rustled through the palm fronds. The temperature had cooled, but no jacket was required.
She glanced inside through the open terrace doors to see Brandt having a brandy with King Dario. Enrique must still be on his telephone call with the ambassador to the United States.
Jules enjoyed the moment of solitude, a break from the endless conversation at the dinner table. At least the topic had finally turned to something interesting.
With her hands on the railing, Jules gazed up at the night sky. The stars surrounding the almost full moon winked at her. A smile graced her lips.
Perhaps she wasn’t cursed.
Enrique hadn’t said yes to the sailing invitation, but his words “right now” filled Julianna with hope. He’d raced sailboats. Alejandro built racing sailboats. Her wedding date was a couple of weeks away.
What were the odds of so many things working out so well? Not only was she marrying into a family of sailors, she would soon be Enrique’s wife. She could say goodbye to being submissive for the rest of her life.
On La Isla de la Aurora, she would be able to do what she wanted. Personal freedom, yes, but she could also help Brandt to show the world Aliestle was more than an eccentric, backward country. Maybe by doing that, Jules would be able to live up to the spirit of her mother.
Laughter bubbled up inside her.
Oh, she’d visit her homeland, but she would no longer be expected to live by all the restrictive laws and traditions.
The only thing missing was falling in love, but given how well everything else was turning out she believed it would happen. She would fall in love with Enrique and he with her. The same way her parents had fallen in love after their arranged marriage.
It was all going to work out. “I know it will.”
“Know what will?” a male voice asked from the shadows.
Jules jumped. “Who’s there?”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She squinted. She couldn’t see anyone, but recognized the voice. “Alejandro.”
He ascended the staircase leading to the terrace where she stood. “Good evening, Julianna.”
Her heart lurched. She fought against the burst of attraction making her mouth go dry. It wasn’t easy.
The stubble on his face made him look so much like a sexy pirate. She could easily imagine him standing behind the wheel of a sailing ship trying to capture a vessel full of gold or pretty wenches.
He’d removed his jacket, tie and cummerbund. The neck of his dress shirt was unbuttoned, the tails hung out of the trousers and his sleeves were rolled up. The high rollers decked out in the finest menswear on the Côte d’Azur had nothing on Alejandro. Even with his bare feet.
“How long have you been lurking in the shadows?” she asked.
He moved gracefully like a dancer or a world-class athlete. “Long enough to hear you laughing.”
Heat enflamed her cheeks. “If I’d known you were there …”
Alejandro crossed the terrace to stand next to her. “No need to apologize for being happy.”
Maybe not for him. But happy wasn’t an emotion Jules was used to experiencing let alone expressing. Sharing that moment embarrassed her. Still she owed him for what he’d said at dinner about sailing and the wedding. But one was more important than the other. “Thank you for suggesting a short engagement.”
“Afraid you’ll change your mind?” he asked.
“Worried Enrique will.”
“Not going to happen.”
Jules wished she shared Alejandro’s confidence. “I’ve heard that before.”
“He’d be a fool, a complete idiot, if he didn’t marry you.”
His compliment made her feel warm all over. His opinion shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it did. “Well, intelligence has never been a requirement to be a crown prince.”
The deep, rich sound of his laughter seeped into her and raised her temperature ten degrees. “You’re a contradiction, Julianna.”
“How so?”
“Your dress and demeanor present the image of a proper, dutiful princess, who dots her I’s and crosses her T’s. Yet you show glimpses …”
No one had ever looked beneath the surface or beyond the label of dutiful princess. She wouldn’t have expected Alejandro to, either. Full of curiosity, she leaned toward him. “Of what?”
“Of being a not-so-perfect princess.”
It was her turn to laugh. That wasn’t who she was. Oh, well … Perhaps Enrique would recognize the real her. “You’re reading too much into my words and deeds. Women are second-class citizens in Aliestle. We must obey the men in our lives or deal with the consequences. Duty becomes our way of life. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have the same hopes and dreams, the same sense of humor, as women in more contemporary lands such as this island.”
“As I said, a contradiction.”
She eyed him warily. “Thank you, I think.”
“It’s a compliment.” He glanced back toward the sitting room. “Your groom has returned.”
Jules looked behind her to see Enrique holding a brandy and talking with the others.
“I should leave you.” Alejandro took a step toward the staircase. “I don’t want my brother to think I’m trying to steal his princess bride.”
Would Alejandro do that? Her pulse skittered thinking he might.
Stop. Now. She couldn’t allow herself to be carried away with girlish fantasies. She raised her chin. “Enrique wouldn’t think—”
“Yes, he would.”
“Have you stolen his girlfriends in the past?”
His eyes raked over her. “No, we have different taste in women.”
Alejandro’s stark appraisal should have made her feel uncomfortable, but he also made her feel sexy, a way she’d never felt before. She wet her lips. “Would your being the black sheep and all the gossip have something to do with Enrique feeling this way?”
Alejandro grinned wryly. “Possibly.”
“So the rumors and stories are true.”
“Some are,” he admitted. “Others are exaggerations.”
He was a gorgeous prince. That often led people to act out of …”I’m sure a few tales are due to jealousy.”
He eyed her curiously. “Has this happened to you?”
“Oh, no. I’m about as proper a princess as you’ll find.”
“Proper with obvious skills of manipulation.”
“Proper with practiced social skills and manners that help others get along.”
“Yet you downplay your intelligence by saying your knowledge about international trade is nothing but a hobby.”
His perceptiveness made her feel like a mouse caught in a trap. He might be a black sheep and prefer to go barefoot,