Counterfeit Princess. Raye Morgan
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Iliana seemed to have much the same idea as Crown Prince Marco did and was waiting with her two attendants very near the dance floor. She had something of a reluctant look on her face, as though it had taken a lot of persuading to get her to come back and meet with him again, but he didn’t care. As long as she was available, he would do what he could to repair the damage of their earlier meeting, and hopefully, build a common relationship. If it was possible to make it a friendly collaboration, that would be best. But if he had to throw her over his shoulder and carry her down the aisle, he’d do it. Bottom line, he was going to marry her.
He studied her as he came closer. She really was beautiful, with a rare luminous quality, as though she were lit with a warm light from within. For just a moment, he felt a slight pang of regret. If only she’d been a different sort of woman, he was sure something could have been worked out. But as she was, he could only hope for miracles.
He bowed and smiled and murmured a few pleasantries. She nodded and gave him a tight smile back, and as she came to join him on the dance floor, she glanced back at her attendants with a look he couldn’t read. Rebellion? Desperation? Threats of revenge? He wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter, just as long as she agreed to put in some time with him. For all he knew, she might be as determined as he was to make this work. That was to be hoped, of course. But if she was unwilling to commit to him voluntarily, she was going to have to be persuaded. The possibilities were endless.
Shannon accepted the prince’s arm as it came around her, leading her into the dance, and she felt her traitorous body begin to respond to him again. It just didn’t make any sense. She’d made up her mind that the man was abhorrent. Why couldn’t the rest of her system get the message?
Still, she’d promised Greta to do something to make amends, and she supposed it was only fair that she do so. After tonight she would never see the crown prince again, but Greta and Freddy—and most of all the real princess—would have to deal with him on a continuing basis. Time to smooth feathers.
She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to meet his. “I want to apologize for some of the things I said to you earlier. I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”
He nodded his head in acknowledgment. “That is very gracious of you, Princess,” he said.
She waited, holding his gaze with her own, trying not to notice the attractive deep grooves that had once housed dimples in his handsome face, and definitely ignoring the full lips.
“Well?” she said at last.
He looked into her face and it was obvious he knew she was waiting for him to reciprocate. Was that a spark of humor in his silver-blue eyes? Or a flicker of malice?
“Well what?” he asked innocently.
Her own eyes flashed sparks. “Aren’t you going to apologize to me?”
“Certainly. Once I’ve found something wrong with my behavior.”
She stopped the gasp that started up her throat and pressed her lips together. No, she wasn’t going to let him do this to her again. She swallowed hard, forcing back anger. “That’s all I ask,” she said as sweetly as she could.
“All right,” he said grudgingly, as though he’d decided he could at least give her this. “I know we got off on the wrong foot. I’m sure I said some things that would have been better left unsaid. So let’s start anew.”
She could tell that she wasn’t going to get anything better from him. Nodding slightly, she gave him a thin smile. “Agreed.”
“Good. That gives us an opportunity to discuss the situation we are in.”
“The situation?”
The situation. She hoped she knew enough about it for discussion. But once again, she would have to be careful she didn’t make any commitments for the princess. Keeping things general sounded like the best way to go. She glanced up at him, then looked away. She felt as though she were preparing for a pop quiz.
“Yes. The situation we both find ourselves in. I have no idea how you feel about it.”
She hesitated. “Why don’t you describe it to me the way you see it?” she said, stalling for time.
“It’s simple enough. I owe your father for his support, both in manpower and in political arm-twisting, in freeing Nabotavia from the radicals. If it weren’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be going back.” He turned his brilliant gaze on her. “He asked in return that I marry his beloved daughter. And I promised him I’d do it.”
She studied his face, hoping to find one little kernel of human feeling somewhere in all that beautiful coolness. “That’s it?”
“Yes. What more do you need?” He shrugged. “You have to admit, it is rather awkward for both of us.”
She frowned, wanting to be sure she got this straight. “In other words, you don’t really want to marry the princess.”
He opened his mouth to answer, then frowned at the way she’d put that. “I have promised King Mandrake that I would offer his daughter my name and a place at my side in Nabotavia. And I mean to honor that promise.”
She nodded, reminding herself not to slip into the third person again. “I see. I think I get it. So even though you don’t really want to marry me, you’re bound and determined to do it to pay back King Mandrake.”
“No, you don’t really get it.” He looked pained. “That’s why we need to talk this over.”
She gave him a dubious look. “Yes, I can certainly see the need for some frank conversation.”
“Very good. The sooner the better.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Why don’t we find a more private area and…”
“Oh no.” She saw where this was going and she wasn’t going to go there. He wanted time alone while he probed her mind for her real reactions to marrying him? What a recipe for complete disaster.
He blinked, looking down at her in surprise, as though he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her right. “No?”
“No, I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
She’d promised Greta she would repair the break and she felt she’d taken care of things on that score. Her obligations were fulfilled and she was going home. She sighed with relief as the dance came to an end. This time she wasn’t waiting for anyone to fetch her and she slipped out of Marco’s arms. Gathering a handful of skirt, she smiled at him.
“Thank you very much for a lovely evening. It’s been most interesting. And now, I’ll bid you good night.”
And she turned and sped away, knowing she was leaving a very perplexed royal behind, but not really caring a bit.
Shannon was out in front of the hotel only a few minutes later, waiting for the limousine that would take her back to real life. She was still tingling from her encounter with the crown prince. She hoped never to see him again but the memory of all that masculine elegance would be a treasured one for a long time. A young woman like her—a graduate art history student paying her way through college as a hostess in a Texas steak house—didn’t get too many opportunities to see royalty up close and personal.
“It’s been fun,” she murmured to herself, craning her neck to see if the limousine was coming, “but thank goodness it’s over.”
Greta and Freddy were lingering inside, saying goodbye to old friends and acquaintances, but Shannon was anxious to leave her semi-royal life behind. And somewhat nervous about getting away from the hotel before the prince showed up and tried to talk to her again.
A long, sleek limousine pulled up and a mournful-looking man stepped out, leaving the passenger side door open and indicating he’d done so for her convenience.
“If you please, Your Highness,” he said, making a sweeping movement with his arm and bowing in her direction.
“Thank