To Marry A Prince. A.C. Arthur
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it to her?” Sam asked.
“He does.”
She cursed.
It was soft and way too dainty to carry much weight, still Kris realized the severity of the situation at hand especially because it made his normally pleasant sister vent in such a way.
Malayka Sampson was engaged to their father. She was a thirty-seven-year-old American who would, in just seven months, become the princess of Grand Serenity Island. As such she would manage Wonderland...no, that was his mother’s. It belonged only to her. It always would. Malayka would manage the palace and she would take over much of the community and public relations duties that Sam now held. She would become the new face and voice of the island, while his father continued to rule via business and policy the way his father had before him.
“I don’t like her and neither does Roland,” Sam told him.
Her words came as no surprise to Kris. Sam and Roland tended to agree on a number of things. Kris was the one who was usually treading on the outside of the sibling bond. That was part of his birthright as his father had taught him from the time he’d been old enough to speak. He was the future ruler, thus he had to lead, always.
“She makes Dad happy,” Kris replied. “That is all that matters.” For now, he thought, wisely keeping that last part to himself.
“She makes me want to do bodily harm and you know that is not my character,” Sam added with a slight chuckle.
“I know. But there are more pressing matters at hand. The Children’s Hospital brunch is coming up later this week and the Ambassador’s Ball is later this month. Is everything in order?”
Sam nodded, looking down at the notepad she’d brought with her into his office. “Just a few final details for each event and they’re all set. As I mentioned when I came in, I have meetings with the board of directors at the hospital tomorrow and after that, I’ll be spending the rest of the afternoon at the Bella Club.”
Kris nodded as he reached for a pen to make note of his sister’s whereabouts the following day. He also had access to her business calendar on the private network the monarch shared. Roland’s and Rafe’s business calendars were also available to him. However, Sam had a number of personal ventures that meant a lot to her. Kris respected that and envied his sister’s passion in helping wherever she could. The Bella Club was an organization Sam had started to offer refuge, counseling and rehabilitation to troubled young adults between the ages of thirteen and eighteen.
“That sounds good,” he said as a thought entered his mind. “Would you mind taking Landry Norris with you tomorrow?”
“Who? Oh, the personal stylist?” she asked with a lift of her precisely arched brows. “Why would I do that? She’s Malayka’s employee, not mine.”
“She is a guest in the palace and a tourist. You are on the board of tourism.”
“So are you,” she countered.
Kris didn’t bother to frown, even though he completely recognized the never-ending sibling game that often had each of the royal children pointing out the other’s duties to see who had the most on their plate. Kris always won, hands down. Which was why, this time, he was delegating the responsibility.
“I’m meeting with the finance board at nine. That will take up at least three hours of my day. Dad and I then have a late lunch scheduled with Quirio Denton, the real estate mogul who wants to build his next resort here on the island. I won’t be available again until dinner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “And as you know, because you’ve been doing this since you were sixteen, it is our practice to provide a detailed tour of the island to visitors of the palace within twenty-four hours of their arrival.”
She gave a slight nod. “That’s when we know they are arriving and when we’ve invited them. Malayka hired this woman without consulting any of us. I say let her conduct the tour,” Sam rebutted. “It would give her practice since it will soon be one of her duties as princess.”
That title, above Sam’s other words, echoed throughout the room.
“She’s not the princess yet,” Kris remarked, in a tone that was much stronger than he’d anticipated.
Sam tapped her fingers on her notepad. “Fine. I will take the stylist with me. It’ll give me the chance to find out more about Malayka and why she really wants to marry our father.”
“I don’t know if you’ll get much by way of gossip from this Landry Norris. She strikes me as a professional.”
“Oh really?” Sam asked, this time leaning forward tossing him a knowing grin. “What else about her strikes you, big brother?”
Kris looked away. He concentrated on the notes he was jotting down, instead of his sister’s question, which made him uncomfortable.
“I performed a cursory interview of her. I have a copy of her contract with Malayka and I checked the references she provided. This is how I came to the conclusion that she is a professional.”
“Right, because you’re very thorough when it comes to investigating who enters these walls. I get that. But what I’m really asking is, what was going on between you and the stylist when I came in? You know, when you two were standing close enough to have kissed.”
Kris looked up quickly then, staring at his sister in shock. Composure came immediately afterward because even with his siblings, Kris had to remain in control. A leader always set an example.
“As Malayka’s stylist she’s now palace staff. Personal dalliances with the staff are inappropriate.”
“Hmm.” Sam made a sound and stood with her notepad tucked under one arm. “Tell that to your brother. He’s had more dalliances with staff, visitors and whoever else he could find, than the both of us.”
Kris made a similar sound as he stood, undoubtedly agreeing with his sister. Roland was another matter entirely.
Sam was almost out the door when she looked back at him and said, “Still, I have to admit the two of you looked awfully cozy and mighty cute together.”
She was gone before he could think of another statement of denial where he and Landry Norris were concerned. When he sat back in his chair, he struggled to dismiss any thoughts he’d had when Landry had stood so close to him. When he’d definitely wanted to—against all his training and upbringing—kiss her.
Classy and elegant, that’s the look Landry was going for tonight. After all, it would be the first time Malayka was presented to the entire royal family. Butterflies danced in Landry’s stomach as she pushed wayward strands of hair from her face and zipped the back of Malayka’s dress.
“There,” Landry said, looking over Malayka’s shoulder into the floor-length mirror.
It was one of four mirrors which had been sealed together in an arch shape situated at the back of the walk-in closet. Who was she kidding? This was not a closet. The room was at least the size of two bedrooms outfitted with racks for hanging clothes, shelves for shoes, medium-sized drawers for purses and smaller ones for scarves and jewelry. Even with all the items that Landry had brought with her and the ones she’d shipped a week before, there was still a good deal of space before Malayka would come close to filling this room. The dresses tried on tonight were specially ordered designs, four of which Landry would have to ship back to the designers first thing tomorrow morning.
“You look stunning,” Landry continued.
Malayka turned to the side. She looked at her plump bottom and rubbed a hand over her flat stomach. Turning again so that she could see herself from another angle, Malayka smoothed her hands over the bodice of the dress. The neckline was cut higher than Malayka was used to but she still seemed pleased. The woman loved to display the cleavage from her size