"Cassidy, Carla - The Prince's Proposal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Cassidy Carla)

The Prince's Proposal

by

Carla Cassidy

Chapter One

"I haven't found anyone appropriate yet," Nicholas replied.
"Nonsense. You have dated women from all over the world, any one of which would have made a fine wife."
Nicholas sighed. He couldn't very well tell his father that although the women he dated were beautiful, sophisticated, and charming, he'd been looking for something more. "I thought it might be interesting if I married a woman I loved."
Michael snorted with displeasure. "Love is overrated. If you are to one day be king, you can't wait around for sentimental foolishness. If I'd had my way, I would have chosen a woman for you a long time ago, but your mother indulges you and she insisted I give you time to find your own wife."
Nicholas bit back an angry retort. When his father had told him he had a year to marry, it hadn't sounded like an indulgence, it had been a royal dictate — as had most of his father's words to him over the years.
And as usual, Nicholas's first instinct was to rebel. He drew a deep breath. "Father, I have tried —"
"Not enough," King Michael said. "A wife gives a man an aura of stability and if you are not married by your 30th birthday, then I will not allow you to succeed the throne."
Nicholas wanted to protest the three-week deadline, tell his father it was a ridiculous ultimatum, but he knew it was useless.
King Michael rose from his chair and looked at his watch. "You'd better get dressed — the ball starts in an hour. Royalty from a dozen countries will be in attendance, surely you can find a woman that will make an appropriate princess."
Without another word, the king swept out of the room. As always, after a talk with his father, frustration gnawed at Nicholas.
He knew his father was right. It was time…past time that he chose a wife. He picked up his dress jacket and ran his thumb across the embroidered family crest on the lapel.
Besides, he'd spent the past year searching for love and had found it elusive. His father was right. Love was nothing more than sentimental foolishness. It was time to put aside such foolishness. It was time to do his duty. Time to choose a wife.

* * *

He knew the moment he saw her that she was the one. Prince Nicholas watched the dark-haired beauty from across the room. She stood by his cousin, Princess Serena of Wynborough, and Serena's husband, Gabriel Morgan.
He moved across the polished dance floor toward her. As he approached, she threw back her head and laughed at something Gabriel said and in her smile, in her rich laughter, Nicholas made up his mind.
He stopped in front of the woman, bowed, and held out a hand. "May I have this dance?"
Her brown eyes widened slightly as she nodded and smiled.
"Are you enjoying your visit to Wynborough?" he asked, noting that she smelled as sweet as she looked.
"Very much, although I'm finding things quite different here from my home in Brookville, Iowa." Again she offered him a shy smile. "I know you're the Prince of Edenbourg, but I'm afraid I'm not exactly sure where Edenbourg is."
Nicholas smiled, finding her confession charming." A long way from Wynborough. Edenbourg is in Eastern Europe."
"Have you visited here often? I understand you're Serena's first cousin."
"Actually, this is my first visit. Our families have not been close, although I enjoyed a long lunch with Serena yesterday." And throughout that lunch, Serena had spoken quite highly of her husband's relative, Rebecca Baxter. Now Nicholas tried to remember what his cousin had said about the lovely woman he held in his arms.
They spoke no more through the course of the dance. Nicholas's father's words rang in his ears. Time to find a bride. And why not the woman in his arms? Rebecca appealed to him more than any of the women he'd dated over the past year. That she was an American, and a commoner to boot, would irritate his father, but that only made her more desirable as far as Nicholas was concerned. Lust at first sight might make the best reason for marriage after all.
When the dance ended, Nicholas escorted her over to where his father stood. The King raised an eyebrow and Nicholas nodded.
So there would be no mistaking his intentions, he acted on an ancient custom. Reaching out to a nearby floral arrangement, he plucked out a flower, kissed it, and then tucked it behind Rebecca's left ear. "May I present Rebecca Baxter."
The king kissed Rebecca first on one cheek, then on the other. "May this union be blessed with many heirs," he replied in their native language, following the custom.
Rebecca smiled blankly, but as the king's words were repeated and swept around the room, a cheer went up. "What's going on?" she asked curiously.
He smiled. "My father has officially pronounced that he accepts our betrothal. You are to be my wife and the next Princess of Edenbourg."

Chapter Two

Smoothly he took her by the elbow and led her toward an enormous set of French doors that allowed entry to an enclosed garden. As they made their way across the room, they were greeted with congratulatory murmurs that to Rebecca sounded colored with disbelief.
He didn't speak until they were alone on a bench amid a profusion of fragrant roses. "There is no joke. You have officially been proclaimed my intended wife, and we'll marry in three weeks' time."
"But, that's crazy," Rebecca exclaimed. "I can't marry you. We don't even know each other." She stared at Nicholas, her heart beating wildly.
Prince Nicholas Stanbury was handsome to a fault, but she also knew he had a reputation as a womanizer. His name had been linked in the tabloids with actresses and models. A different woman each week.
"My mother and father didn't meet until the day of their wedding. We have three weeks to get to know each other." He smiled, a charming smile that shot heat through her. "I am to marry by my 30th birthday or lose my right to succeed my father. In three weeks and one day, I turn 30, so I find a wife necessary."
"That's nice, but I don't find a husband necessary," she retorted, and wondered wildly if they still beheaded recalcitrant women in this part of the world. "Besides, I don't love you."
"Marriage isn't about love," he replied softly, his gaze not quite meeting hers. "I'm offering you what hundreds of women would sell their soul for…a fairy tale life. As my wife you'll enjoy a beautiful castle, expensive clothing, exquisite jewels and all I ask in return is that you give me an heir."
Rebecca was appalled by his cool recitation of a loveless marriage. "If there are hundreds of women who want a marriage with you and the lifestyle you're offering, then I suggest you find one of them." She stood. The man was gorgeous, but he was obviously clueless when it came to matters of the heart.
He stood as well and took her hand in his. Despite the fact she wanted nothing to do with his offer of marriage, she couldn't halt the heat that raced up her arm at his touch. "But, I don't want any of those other women as my wife. I want you."
She pulled her hand from his. "We don't always get everything we want."
He grinned, a challenging smile that danced in the dark depths of his eyes. "I do."

Chapter Three

It had been four years since Rebecca's sister, Gabriel's wife LeAnn, had died in a tragic bank robbery gone wrong. After the funeral, Rebecca and Gabe had lost track of each other. They'd made contact again when Gabe had invited Rebecca to his and Serena's wedding, but Rebecca had been unable to attend. Then Gabe had learned about her mother's death and convinced her she needed a break and invited her to Wynborough for the anniversary celebration of the coronation of Serena's father, King Phillip.
Rebecca spied the flower on her nightstand, the same flower Nicholas had tucked behind her ear to proclaim their engagement. Her heart stepped up its rhythm as she thought of the handsome prince. A prince had made her his fiancйe. It would be like a romantic dream, if she loved Nicholas…if he loved her.
A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. "Come in," she called.
"Good morning," Serena said as she entered.
Rebecca smiled at the red-haired princess. In the brief time she'd been in Wynborough, she'd developed a friendship with Serena. "I'm not sure if it's a good morning or not."
Serena sat on the edge of the bed. "It was an exciting evening, that's for sure."
Rebecca sat up. "I was just lying here wondering if it was all a dream. Yesterday I was an unemployed schoolteacher taking her first trip outside the United States. Today I'm betrothed to a prince I don't even know." She looked at Serena desperately. "How do I get out of this? I don't want to do anything that might cause an international incident!"
Serena laughed, then sobered and gazed at Rebecca thoughtfully. "If I were you, I'd go along with the engagement for several days, but tell Nicholas of your intention not to marry him. It's important that it appears he's the one who changes his mind. He'll want to save face with the public."
Rebecca nodded, trusting that Serena knew best how to handle issues concerning royalty.
Serena stood, a worried frown etched into her forehead. "Just don't let him hurt you. Nicholas is quite a charmer, but I don't think his heart has ever been touched. Be careful with your own heart."
Rebecca smiled. "Don't worry about me. I'm not about to be taken in by what he's offering." She looked at the flower on the nightstand, then back to Serena. "I'm glad Gabe found you. I'm so glad he found happiness."
"I'm the one who is happy." Serena's face positively glowed. "Gabe is my heart, my love, my very soul mate."
And that's exactly what Rebecca wanted for herself. Love. And that was the one thing Prince Nicholas wasn't offering.

Chapter Four

Marriages were made, as his father and mother's had been, for a variety of pragmatic reasons, not because of some wild, crazy magic that might exist between two people.
As Nicholas sat in Gabe and Serena's living room waiting for Rebecca to join him, he thought of what he knew about Rebecca. She was 25 years old, an unemployed schoolteacher who had spent the past year caring for an ailing mother who had passed away a month before.
She had one charge card she rarely used, a seven-year-old car, and owned no property. Her reputation was sterling and he knew many of his countrymen would find her modest background charming.
He knew everything about her that could be learned through public records, but there was much he didn't know, and he was surprised to realize he was looking forward to spending time with her. He smiled as he recalled her laughter. He hoped he could make her laugh today.
"Rebecca will be down in just a minute," Gabe said as he reentered the room.
"Good. I'm looking forward to spending the day in her company." He offered Gabe a friendly smile, but the tall, dark-haired man didn't return it.
"You know Rebecca is my sister-in-law from my previous marriage," Gabe said.
Nicholas nodded. He knew Gabe's first wife had died tragically and after her death, Gabe had come to Wynborough and gotten a position as a royal bodyguard. According to the rumors, Serena and Gabe had fallen madly in love. But, Nicholas now suspected Serena's father, King Phillip, had made some sort of a business arrangement with the bodyguard. Nicholas wasn't sure what the king had promised Gabe, but he knew King Phillip was pleased to have his willful, adventurous daughter safely married. That was how royal marriages worked, he reminded himself.
"I'm very fond of Rebecca," Gabe continued.
"And I'm sure I'll grow fond of her as well," Nicholas replied, noting that his answer didn't ease the tension that emanated from Gabe.
"I don't want her hurt." Gabe glared at him.
"I have no intention of hurting her. I'm marrying her, not burying her," Nicholas protested with an uncomfortable laugh. He didn't understand why Gabe wasn't thrilled that Nicholas was offering Rebecca a dream life as a princess.
"I'm just warning you," Gabe returned, his gaze intent on Nicholas. "If you hurt her, you won't have to worry about succession rights or anything else."
Nicholas stared at Gabe in surprise and wondered for the first time if perhaps he hadn't gotten in over his head with the lovely Rebecca Baxter.

Chapter Five

"Actually, I hate it," Rebecca replied perversely. She was more nervous than she could remember. Nicholas was even more handsome this morning than he'd been last night, and she'd have to be a stick of wood not to be affected by the force of his smile.
I shouldn't even be here, she thought. I shouldn't spend a single moment perpetuating this craziness. But, if she were honest with herself, she would admit it was a heady experience. It was hard to believe that after a year of taking care of her mother, her first date was with a prince who'd proposed to her.
"I don't think I've ever met a woman who hated to shop," Nicholas said, pulling Rebecca from her thoughts.
"Perhaps you've been seeing the wrong kind of women."
He laughed. He had a wonderful laugh, deep-bodied and genuine. "Perhaps you're right," he agreed. "Still, I'd like to buy you something special to wear tomorrow night. Something to commemorate our engagement."
"Tomorrow night?"
"The party at the Woodtowers' house. I understand the Woodtowers throw wonderful parties."
Rebecca nodded, remembering Gabe mentioning something about the party. "Please, I'd rather you not buy me anything. I'm only going along with this engagement business for the next week so you can then tell everyone I was entirely inappropriate."
"But, I don't find you inappropriate."
"You will," she said firmly. She gazed at him thoughtfully. "Why would your father give you a deadline to marry?"
"Because my father likes to control people and things," he replied. "And I will adhere to the deadline because I'll do whatever I must do for Edenbourg."
Their conversation ended as the limo pulled up at the curb in front of the open-air market. Within minutes, Rebecca was walking beside Nicholas through the marketplace. She had a feeling Nicholas was not only handsome, but headstrong as well, and it was obvious he'd paid no mind to her warning that he needed to find another fiancйe.
She certainly didn't want to be responsible for him losing the right to one day be king of his country, but she wasn't willing to sacrifice herself and her own dreams in the process.
"Prince Nicholas!"
Both Nicholas and Rebecca turned to see a man who was obviously from the press advancing on them. "Could we get a picture of you and your intended?"
"No," Rebecca exclaimed in horror. She didn't want any part of this mock engagement chronicled in the daily news.
"Certainly," Nicholas replied at the same time. "How about a picture of our first kiss."
Before Rebecca could protest or knew what was happening, Nicholas's lips descended toward hers.

Chapter Six

Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, vaguely aware of the reporter scurrying away. Rebecca's brown eyes were luminous, and Nicholas wondered how they would look while he made love to her. The thought stirred his blood.
"You shouldn't have done that," she said, her cheeks a becoming pink.
"Actually, I was just considering repeating the experience," he replied.
She took a step away from him, her eyes flashing with a touch of anger. "Don't you dare," she exclaimed. "You're only making things worse. I am not marrying you."
Quickly he followed behind her as she walked toward a flower booth. She intrigued him. It had never entered his mind that any woman wouldn't jump at the opportunity he was offering — the opportunity to eventually be queen of a beautiful kingdom.
He knew without a doubt that any of the women he'd dated before would have married him in an instant. So, what was going on with Rebecca Baxter? Was she simply playing hard to get, or did she truly intend to turn him down?
He hurried to catch up with her, noting how pretty she looked as she bent forward to smell a brilliant red blossom.
"You like flowers?" he asked.
"I love them." She flashed him a smile that created a pleasant warmth in his stomach. "I particularly love gardening." They walked on, leaving the flower display behind.
"What else do you like?" he asked curiously.
"I like all kinds of things: pepperoni pizza, working with children, watching a sunset." Her brown eyes gazed at him curiously. "What about you?"
He frowned thoughtfully. "I like touring my country, visiting with the people, and representing their interests to the rest of the world." He thought of the official dinners, the formal dances and meetings that took up much of his time. He spent a lot of time dating, feeding the tabloids and scandal sheets because he knew it angered his father, but he couldn't actually say he enjoyed it. "It isn't necessary that we enjoy the same things," he said firmly.
She eyed him in disbelief. "But, it is." She shook her head and continued, "and this is a pointless conversation because I have no intention of marrying you. One week, Nicholas, I told you I'd go along with this farce for one week, then you will tell the press I was inappropriate and you can choose another woman to be your bride." She turned and walked away.
Nicholas hurried after her, wondering how in the devil he could change her mind in seven days, wondering why it was suddenly so important that he change her mind!

Chapter Seven

Nicholas had returned her to Gabe and Serena's by midafternoon, and the floral deliveries had started almost immediately.
"A bit extravagant, but sweet," Serena exclaimed as she surveyed the floral wonderland of Rebecca's bedroom.
"Sweet?" Rebecca stared at Serena in disbelief. "The man is a lunatic. He's obviously trying to buy me and it's not going to work. He doesn't understand the meaning of no, has probably never been told no in his life. He's extravagant and spoiled."
"The spoiled prince is waiting for you in the foyer," Serena announced with a grin.
"Good. I intend to give him a piece of my mind." Rebecca left her bedroom, anger coursing through her. Thank goodness she hadn't told him she loved animals, otherwise there would be an entire zoo in Gabe and Serena's house.
Her anger dissipated somewhat as she stepped into the foyer and Nicholas greeted her with a wide grin. He looked so handsome, with his eyes gleaming with pleasure and his lips curved into an expectant smile. "You are pleased?"
"No, I'm not pleased," she replied curtly.
"But, you said you liked flowers." His smile fell away, replaced by bewilderment.
Rebecca was unable to sustain her anger as she realized he had truly meant to please her and was clueless about why she wasn't delighted.
"Nicholas, I said I love flowers, but I also said I love gardening."
"When we are married, you may spend all your free time gardening," he exclaimed.
Rebecca sighed. "We come from two very different worlds. I'd rather be a schoolteacher in Iowa than a princess in a loveless marriage."
"Perhaps I should have sent jewelry instead of flowers," he mused, more to himself than to her. "I thought you wanted flowers."
He didn't get it. He simply didn't get it, Rebecca realized. He was so accustomed to buying what he wanted, getting what he desired. He didn't understand she could only be won over with love.
"Come with me," she said suddenly and grabbed him by the hand.
"Where are we going?" he asked as she pulled him out the front door.
"The flowers you sent showed me a lot about your world. Now I'm going to show you a little about mine."

Chapter Eight

He didn't understand why the flowers hadn't pleased her. The huge arrangements certainly would have pleased any of the women he'd dated in the past.
As Rebecca led him around the side of the country manor, Nicholas noted how the sunlight danced in her dark hair, causing reddish highlights to flirt and dance. His fingers itched to wrap themselves in the silky strands.
She took him to the greenhouse and as they entered, she released his hand and gestured to the plants and flowers surrounding them. "This is the kind of flower I like — growing, living flowers." She tilted her head and gazed at him curiously. "Have you ever planted a flower?"
She looked so charming that he wished he could tell her yes, but he wasn't going to lie. "Never. We have gardeners for that."
"There is nothing better than getting your hands dirty." She grabbed a spade and knelt down at a bed where pots of various flowers sat waiting to be planted. For a moment he stared at her in surprise, then he knelt beside her and within minutes they were covered with mud to their elbows.
Nicholas had to admit there was something sensuous and evocative about planting, but he wasn't sure if it was the warmth and texture of the mud on his fingers, or the utter pleasure that lit Rebecca's features.
"I've always believed marriage is sort of like planting flowers. It isn't enough just to plant them. To flourish, you have to nurture them."
He considered her words with interest. "I might have believed that once, but now I know marriage is simply a duty that must be fulfilled."
She gazed at him sadly. "And if that's why you marry, then you will never know real happiness."
Nicholas found the conversation strangely unsettling.
She seemed to sense his discomfort and laughed suddenly. It had been that wonderfully musical laugh and the sparkle in her eyes that had made him choose her, and he found himself grinning at her in response. "What is so funny?"
"If only your subjects could see you now. His Royal Highness with his face streaked with mud."
"Where?" Without thinking he touched his face with his muddy fingers. Again she laughed, and the music of her laughter soared through him.
"Your face is dirty, too." He reached out and smeared mud across her cheek. She looked at him in astonishment, then dissolved into laughter.
Nicholas didn't know anything about love, but at that moment all he knew was that he wanted nothing more than to gather Rebecca into his arms and kiss her with the passion that was growing inside him.
He decided not to fight the impulse, but rather to give in to it.

Chapter Nine

The moment his lips touched hers, she knew this kiss was far different. There was nobody in the greenhouse except the two of them, no reason for him to kiss her other than because he wanted to.
His mouth plied hers with intense heat as he pulled her tightly against his hard-muscled chest. Rebecca's head spun dizzily beneath the strong sensual assault and although she knew she should step away, her body refused to listen to the mental command.
She needed the kiss to stop, needed to catch her breath and regain her equilibrium, yet she wanted the kiss to last forever.
He deepened the kiss with his tongue and at the same time his arms pulled her even closer against him. She was aware of a thundering heartbeat, but couldn't discern if it was his heart or her own.
His hands moved up her back and tangled in her hair and Rebecca knew it had to be her heart pounding so loudly as she responded to her own growing need.
Being held in his arms, being kissed by him made her heart's desire seem attainable. And her heart's desire had nothing to do with becoming a princess or a queen, but rather with loving and being loved by a very special man.
Rebecca felt Nicholas's reluctance as he ended the kiss. As he gazed at her, his dark eyes sparked with the flames of desire and Rebecca felt the fire in the pit of her stomach.
"I hope it takes a while for you to give me an heir," he whispered. "The longer it takes, the more we'll have to try."
His words effectively doused the fire within Rebecca, reminding her exactly what he was offering her in marriage and what he would expect in return.
She opened her mouth to protest his statement, to remind him that she had no intention of marrying him, but he held up a hand to still her.
He smiled and touched her cheek softly. "I cannot have a serious conversation with a woman who has mud smeared on her cheek. Come," he grabbed her hand. "Let's go clean up."
With his hand around hers, and her cheek burning from the tenderness of his touch, Rebecca realized she had to be strong. She'd promised him a week of the mock engagement and she would give him a week.
But, she had to be careful because when he gifted her with his warm, charming smile, when he touched her in the most simple fashion, he stirred emotions Rebecca knew could only lead to her own heartache.

Chapter Ten

The Woodtowers' ball was in full swing. Charles and Edie Woodtower were personal friends of King Phillip and Queen Gabriella and no expense had been spared in this celebratory party thrown in their honor.
The ballroom itself was splendidly opulent, with gilded molding and enormous crystal chandeliers. An orchestra played from its position on a large balcony, the soft music providing a pleasant backdrop without hindering conversation. She and Nicholas were in a small alcove that provided an excellent view of the ballroom.
Nicholas frowned. "I've never liked blondes."
Rebecca grinned at him. "That's not what the Daily Reader says about you."
Nicholas laughed. "You mustn't believe everything you read in the papers."
"They call you the Playboy Prince." There was a touch of censure in her voice and her dark eyes gazed at him soberly.
"I enjoy being seen with beautiful women." He shrugged, slightly embarrassed by the playboy image he'd cultivated as part of a perverse rebellion against his father. He smiled at her. "And tonight is no exception. You look stunning."
And she did. Clad in a cream-colored gown that complemented her dark coloring and displayed her curves, she outshone every other woman in the room. Her hair was pulled up, exposing a long, graceful neck, and her makeup subtly enhanced her pretty features.
She blushed at his compliment. "Thank you." As the blush faded from her cheeks, her gaze swept the room once again. "If you don't like blondes, there are several attractive brunettes here and I'm sure any one of them would make an appropriate princess for you."
"It is completely inappropriate for my fiancйe to be matchmaking for me," Nicholas replied.
"Somebody has to do it." She studied him and wondered if she was being foolish in resisting his appeal. "You have less than three weeks to marry."
"I will marry before my birthday," he assured her. "I have spent my whole life being groomed to be the next King of Edenbourg. That is my destiny."
"Then why haven't you married before now?" She gazed at him curiously. "You said your father gave you a year. Why have you waited until the last possible moment?"
Nicholas hesitated before replying, unsure what the real answer was. He knew part of the reason had been because he hadn't wanted to believe his father would really force his hand in such a manner. Even more he didn't want to confess that he'd been searching for something…something he couldn't define. Whatever it had been, he hadn't found it.
He smiled. "I waited because I hadn't yet met you."
Rebecca shook her head and eyed him in disbelief. "I think instead of the Playboy Prince, the papers should have dubbed you the Prince of Baloney."
He looked at her in surprise. He couldn't remember a woman ever talking to him so irreverently.
"What about dreams, Nicholas?" she asked. "What are your dreams for yourself?"
"I want to be a fair and merciful king. I dream of peace and prosperity for Edenbourg."
Her rich, caramel-colored eyes gazed at him thoughtfully. "Those are the dreams of a king. What are your dreams, your hopes for yourself as a man?"
Nicholas frowned thoughtfully. Dreams? His frown deepened. "I don't know," he finally replied. "I don't know that I have any."
Rebecca nodded, as if his answer didn't surprise her. "Aside from the fact that we don't love each other, we are fundamentally far too different to make a successful marriage. I could never marry a man who has no dreams, and that's one of the reasons I would never marry you."

Chapter Eleven

"Name some," she demanded.
He grinned, finding the sparkle in her eyes and the challenge in her tone intoxicating. "My own parents are a perfect example. Theirs was an arranged marriage for political reasons and they've been together for over 30 years. They have their own interests and their own responsibilities and friends and it has worked for them."
She frowned, an adorable wrinkle appearing across her forehead. "Shall we dance?" he asked as the orchestra began to play.
She nodded her assent and he took her hand and led her toward the dance floor. "There's also Victor and Sara Thorton," he said as he embraced her and they began to move to the rhythm of the music.
She fit perfectly in his arms and her sweet fragrance filled his senses. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so physically attracted to a woman. Rebecca wasn't the prettiest woman he'd ever been involved with, but something about her drew him as no other woman had ever done.
"You were telling me about the Thortons," she said, pulling him from his inner contemplation.
"Yes, he's the Grand Duke of Thortonburg and he married Sara years ago for duty rather than for love. I'd introduce you to them, but they left rather abruptly from the coronation celebration. There are rumors of trouble in Thortonburg. Anyway, both of those marriage have been tremendously successful."
"But, Nicholas, I don't want a successful marriage. I want a marriage like my parents had," she said. Her eyes took on a dreamy cast and Nicholas tightened his arm around her back, wishing it was he that evoked such a look on her face.
"They were happy?" he asked.
"More than happy. They were more than just husband and wife. They were best friends, passionate lovers, and utterly devoted to one another. They were truly soul mates."
"And that's your dream?"
She nodded, her eyes still luminous. "I want my husband to be my lover, my companion, the keeper of my dreams, and my solace when dreams fall through. I want a family of happy children raised with laughter and love, children who grow up seeing the love and respect their parents have for one another." She blushed. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm rambling."
"Don't apologize," he protested. For a few moments they continued to dance without speaking. Nicholas pulled her closer against him, wondering how it was possible he'd begun the night with no dreams and now wanted her dreams to be his.

Chapter Twelve

Rebecca smiled as memories assailed her. "Every anniversary, my father would buy my mother a little trinket from a different country. One year it was a package of Russian tea, the next a bell from Holland."
"My mother always gets a new diamond of some sort from my father on their anniversary," Nicholas said.
Rebecca smiled, trying to ignore how utterly handsome Nicholas looked in his formal dress. "Daddy couldn't afford diamonds. But, he'd promised mother the world and so each year he gave her a memento of some far away place."
"What did your mother and father do for a living?"
Rebecca sat on one of the wrought-iron benches that decorated the balcony. Nicholas joined her, his thigh warm against hers as they sat side by side. "Daddy was a simple man, a car mechanic and mother was a schoolteacher. He met her when she took her car in for repairs and three months later they married. Their love for each other filled our house every day."
Nicholas frowned. "I know my parents respect one another, but they spend very little time together."
"When I marry, my husband and I will spend lots of time together," Rebecca said fervently. "We'll share meals and our bed, we'll share our hopes and dreams. We'll even argue occasionally, but we'll always make up and our love will simply grow stronger with each passing day."
She looked at Nicholas. "That's what I want from marriage, what my parents had." She felt the burn of unexpected tears. "And had they lived long enough, my father would have given my mother the entire world." She swiped the tears that had begun to fall. "I'm sorry," she said and forced a small laugh to hide her embarrassment.
"Don't be," he murmured softly.
"It's just — my father died a year ago of a heart attack, and before I had a chance to mourn for him, my mother became terminally ill. She passed away a month ago." To her horror, as much as she tried to suppress her tears, it was useless.
He gathered her into his arms and she went willingly, grief for her parents welling up inside her.
She pressed her face into the front of his shirt as he stroked her hair tenderly. Even as the tears flowed, she was intensely aware of the strength of Nicholas's arms around her, the attractive masculine scent of him.

"Sweet Rebecca," he murmured. "Try not to grieve for your parents. Just think, now they have all of eternity to spend together."
In his sweet words, in the tenderness of his embrace, Rebecca knew she was treading on dangerous ground. She was vulnerable to the fantasy he held out. After the dreadful year she'd just spent, it would be far too easy to fall into the fairy tale of becoming a princess in an exotic, foreign land.

Yes, she was vulnerable, and if she weren't very careful, she'd fall in love with the Playboy Prince who appeared to know nothing about love.

Chapter Thirteen

"I love children," she replied. "That's why I became a teacher. When I was younger I told my mother I wanted at least a dozen of my own."
"A dozen? Then you definitely would need a castle to hold all of them."
She laughed, that musical laughter that affected Nicholas deep in the pit of his stomach. "Or an old two-story rambling farmhouse."
Nicholas watched her as she looked at the playing children. He found her face utterly fascinating, full of expression and animation.
Two nights ago he'd held her while she cried over her parents and her grief had resonated deep inside him. Since that night they seemed to have become more comfortable with one another.
She turned to him suddenly. "If you weren't a prince, what would you want to be?" she asked.
They continued their stroll through the tree-lined sidewalks of the park. "Oh, I don't know." He grinned at her. "Perhaps a farmer with a two-story rambling farmhouse perfect for a dozen children."
She nudged him in his side and laughed. "I'm being serious."
This was one of the things he enjoyed about her. She challenged him, made him think of things he'd never thought of before. "I don't know — it's difficult to think about options when you've been raised all your life for the role you will undertake." He smiled at her. "What about you? What would you have been if not a teacher?"
She shrugged and a light breeze caused her hair to dance bewitchingly on her shoulders. "Maybe a social worker. I like people as much as I like children."
"And that will make you a perfect princess," Nicholas said.
"Nicholas, the only reason I agreed to spend the last few days with you is because Serena told me it would be better if you made an announcement to the press that you'd dumped me instead of me dumping you."
"But, I'm not dumping you."
"Nicholas — you aren't listening to me." Her eyes flashed with anger.
"You have a temper," he said in surprise.
"Yes, I have a temper, and I probably sometimes chew with my mouth open. I eat crackers in bed and if there are more than two forks next to my plate I don't know for sure which one to use. Face it, Nicholas, I'm not princess material."
For the first time Nicholas wondered if he'd jumped too fast, if maybe she was right and this was all a big mistake.
Had he only chosen her because of the fight with his father? Because he knew his father would disapprove but would be unable to do anything about it?
"Ah, I see I've made you think." She laughed suddenly and in that sweet sound of her laughter, in the sparkle of her eyes, any doubts Nicholas momentarily entertained disappeared.
"I'm only wondering how difficult it is to sleep on cracker crumbs," he replied.

She started to speak again, but he stilled her by placing a finger on her lips. "You know, most women would think what I'm offering you is a magical fairy tale."
"But I know better," she replied. "It isn't a fairy tale at all."
"Why not?" he asked curiously.
Her eyes lost their sparkle of laughter and instead became somber. "Because everyone knows fairy tales always end happily-ever-after and we aren't going to have that ending."

Chapter Fourteen

Rebecca nodded. "I gave him a week and the time is up. That gives him two weeks before his birthday to find an appropriate bride." Rebecca tried to ignore the ache that shot through her heart.
The past week had been like a dream. She and Nicholas had spent nearly every waking hour together. They'd taken long drives into the country, eaten at wonderful restaurants, and walked through Wynborough's many parks.
Rebecca had accepted each day as an exciting gift, like a reward after a particularly heartrending, difficult year. It had been easy to get caught up in the fantasy of it all. But now it was time for a dose of reality. And reality was that Nicholas didn't love her.
With each day that passed, Nicholas seemed to open up a bit more, revealing pieces of himself that she suspected he'd never shared with anyone else. As he'd spoken of his childhood, she'd gotten the impression of a spoiled, indulged, but lonely, child who saw more of his nursemaid than of his parents. It was no wonder Nicholas didn't understand love. He'd had plenty of duty, of responsibility, plenty of pomp and circumstance in his life, but very little love.
"So, what do you have planned for your swan song as Nicholas's intended bride?" Serena asked, pulling Rebecca from her thoughts.
"I'm not sure. Nicholas told me to be ready at noon and that he had a surprise for me." Rebecca took a sip of her coffee, then sighed. "It's been a wonderful week."
"It doesn't have to end," Serena said.
"Of course it does," Rebecca countered. She wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug, then looked at Serena once again. "I'm afraid if I don't stop seeing him then I'm going to do something incredibly stupid."
"Like what?"
"Like fall in love with him," Rebecca whispered.
"Would that be so terrible?"
"Yes." Once again Rebecca focused her gaze on the coffee in her mug. "Nicholas is charming, and sexy and handsome. He's obviously well educated and has a wonderful sense of humor."
"But…?" Serena prompted.
"But, he didn't choose me as his fiancйe because he loves me. I'm not even sure he's capable of loving the way I want to be loved." Rebecca reached across the expanse of table and grabbed Serena's hand.
"I want a man who looks at me like Gabe looks at you," she exclaimed fervently. "I need a man who needs me, one who wants to share my thoughts, my life, my dreams."
"So, what are you going to do?" Serena asked softly and squeezed Rebecca's hand.
"Tell Nicholas goodbye." The words caused an ache to sweep through Rebecca.

Chapter Fifteen

She looked lovely, clad in a caramel-colored silk dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Tiny gold studs shone in her ears and her hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders.
Nicholas's fingers itched with the desire to tangle in its glorious silkiness. He longed to capture one of her ear lobes in his mouth, then rain kisses down the length of her gorgeous neck. He tried desperately to focus on the conversation and not his growing desire for her.
"But, I don't want to stop seeing you," he protested, wondering why the right words came so easily to him in political matters, but with so much difficulty when dealing with Rebecca. He sounded like a petulant child, and that irritated him.
The two of them were seated in a private dining room in a popular but expensive restaurant. The room was conducive to romance, complete with fresh-cut flowers, candlelight, and soft music wafting in the air.
When Rebecca had told Nicholas she only meant to be his fiancйe for a week, he'd been confident by the time the week was over he would have changed her mind. Now, for the first time, he felt an edge of panic rise up inside him as he realized she apparently intended to stick to her word.
"I want to spend more time with you." The moment the words left his lips, he recognized the truth in them.
"We'd only be putting off the inevitable," she replied, her gaze refusing to meet his.
For a moment an alien helplessness swept through him. He could command the cook fix his favorite meal; he could demand his housekeeper repolish a spoon or glass, but he could neither command nor demand that Rebecca give him more time.
"Nicholas, I know nothing about your country, nothing about the customs, the people of Edenbourg."
He smiled teasingly, wishing to pull an answering smile from her. "Then, I'll get you some travel brochures to study."
She sighed, obviously irritated by his response.
He reached across the table and took her hand. He loved her hands…so soft and feminine. Strange, that he couldn't remember the hands of any other woman he'd dated.
"Rebecca, this past week with you has only proven to me how well a marriage between us would work. We are well suited to one another. You please me," he confessed.
She pulled her hand from his. "But have you considered that you might not please me?"
He looked at her in stunned surprise. "You don't like me?"
Again she sighed, her gaze not meeting his. "I like you just fine." She looked at him. "But I won't love you."
"That isn't necessary for a successful marriage between us." Although he said the words, he was surprised to feel a renewed sense of panic well up inside him. He reached into his pocket, knowing that if anything could make her change her mind, his gift would.
He withdrew a small, blue velvet box.
Her eyes widened and he saw the protest forming on her lips. He quickly opened the jewelry box and exposed what it contained.

Chapter Sixteen

Nicholas relaxed as he saw the awe on her face. It was one thing to turn down a proposal, quite another to turn away from a flawless four-carat diamond engagement ring. Rebecca wasn't so very different from the other women he'd dated after all.
He took the ring from its velvety bed and slipped it onto her finger. "A perfect fit. It's an omen." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her. "Rebecca, please wear the ring, be my bride." His heart thudded with a strange, unnatural rhythm and he realized he was holding his breath as he waited for her reply.
She held her hand up, allowing the diamond to catch and reflect the candlelight. It sparkled and glowed as if with promise and Nicholas felt that promise in his heart. She would say yes. She had to say yes.
His heart plunged to the floor when she shook her head and pulled the ring from her finger. "It's gorgeous. A ring for a princess, but I can't wear this and we aren't getting married."
He watched dully as she placed the ring back into the velvet box. Funny, he was filled with a strange elation that she was different from all the others. But, the elation was tempered with alarm as he thought of living his life with anyone else. He couldn't imagine any other woman as his wife. He wanted…he needed Rebecca.
"I don't want to play games, Rebecca. Forget I'm a prince, forget about my father's ultimatum." He leaned forward and gazed at her. "Let's spend a week together just as a man and a woman enjoying one another's company. No commitments, no pressures of any kind."
He saw the mulish stubbornness on her features and searched inside himself to find the right words to change her mind. "Rebecca, in two weeks' time I return to Edenbourg and continue my duties as heir to the throne. The position will bring me tremendous joy, but with that joy comes pressures and enormous responsibilities. I'd like to spend a week, not as a future king, but rather simply as a man. I'd like to spend that time with the woman of my choice and that woman is you."
He saw her indecision and pressed his advantage. "Look, I'm putting the ring away and I won't say another word about marriage." He tucked the velvet box back into his pocket.
"Oh, Nicholas, you make it very difficult for a woman to tell you no," she finally said.
"Then don't say no."
"This is probably the most stupid mistake I've ever made in my life," she murmured. "Okay…one more week."
Nicholas released a sigh of relief. One more week. Seven days. He had seven days to figure out the way to Rebecca's heart.

Chapter Seventeen

Every single day for the next week, she savored the moments, capturing the minutes in her memory, etching them in her mind and in her heart.
Nicholas introduced her to lobster Newburg and she introduced him to pepperoni pizza. He took her horseback riding and she took him bowling. They took carriage rides and visited museums. And each evening when he returned her to Gabe and Serena's house, he kissed her until she was dizzy with desire, aching with want.
She told herself that she'd have wonderful stories to tell her friends back in Iowa…about the two weeks she'd been engaged to Prince Nicholas Stanbury of Edenbourg. And at night, in her lonely bed, she'd have plenty of tears to shed over the future king…the man she loved.
She and Nicholas now stood at Gabe and Serena's front door. It was almost midnight and the two weeks were up. The moon overhead was full, spilling illumination that played on Nicholas's handsome features.
"Rebecca, I know I promised I wouldn't speak of it again, but I lied." His gaze bore into hers intently. "Marry me."
She shook her head. "I won't."
"Why not?" His voice held a soft appeal.
She couldn't tell him she wouldn't marry him because she loved him. If he knew, it would give him power over her and she was afraid he'd use that power to convince her to marry him. And that would be the mistake of a lifetime.
She answered his question with a question of her own. "Why did you choose me…that night at the ball? The room was filled with dozens of women. Why me?"
For a long moment, he stared up at the moon, as if the answer to her question might be found in the silvery globe. "I'm not sure." He looked at her again and in his eyes she saw confusion. "When I looked at you, something happened. The moment I saw you laugh I knew without doubt that you were the one I wanted."
He pulled her into his embrace. "And nothing has changed my mind since that night." His lips touched hers in a kiss of aching sweetness.
She held herself stiff, unyielding, but as his tongue touched the tip of hers, and he pulled her more tightly against him, she gave in to the magic, the passion.
"Rebecca…Rebecca…" he murmured as his lips left her mouth and traveled down the length of her neck. His light, nipping kisses sparked flames of heat wherever his mouth touched. "I want you. I need you. Marry me."
Reluctantly, heart aching, she stepped from his embrace. "Goodbye Nicholas." She grabbed the doorknob to enter the house.
"Rebecca, wait—" In the moonlight that spilled down she turned back to face him, surprised to see what looked like sheer panic in his gaze. "If you don't marry me, then I won't marry at all. I will forfeit my right to succeed the throne of my country."

Chapter Eighteen

"It isn't nonsense. If you don't marry me then there will be no wedding and I will never be King of Edenbourg."
He looked perfectly serious, but Rebecca refused to believe his words. "I don't believe you. You've been groomed to be king all your life. If you don't marry, your father will back down on his ultimatum."
He smiled without humor. "You don't know my father. He would rather stripe me of my right to succeed than give in on one of his ultimatums."
He drew a deep breath and raked a hand through his thick dark hair. "Two weeks ago any woman would have satisfied me. I had resigned myself to a marriage where my wife and I would live rather separately. We would be polite and civil to one another. She would give me the required heir and I would give her jewelry and expensive houses to keep her happy."
He placed his hands on Rebecca's shoulders, his gaze capturing hers with intensity. "These last two weeks with you have shown me what marriage can be. I like being with you, talking to you. We could have a marriage of companionship, of laughter—" his eyes darkened "—of passion."
Oh, it would be so easy to fall into the promise of his words, to give her fairy tale a happy ending, but there was one thing Nicholas hadn't said. He hadn't said the marriage would be filled with love.
He hadn't said he loved her.
"Goodbye, Nicholas." Before he could say another word, before he could say anything, do anything to weaken her resolve, she slipped through the door and left him standing on the porch.
She was grateful Gabe and Serena were in bed and she managed to get to her room before the hot tears flowed.
This trip to Wynborough had been intended to be a lighthearted vacation after the year taking care of her mother and an opportunity to renew the bonds of family with Gabe. It wasn't supposed to be about heartache.
She undressed and got into bed, tears still tracking down her cheeks. Nicholas. Her heart cried out his name. It would be so easy to fall into the fantasy, allow herself to become his bride. But she was so afraid she'd be sacrificing her own dreams of love in the process. Loving Nicholas simply wasn't enough if he didn't love her.
Swiping the tears from her cheeks, she rolled over on her back and stared at the moonlight patterns that splashed the ceiling.
"If you don't marry me then there will be no wedding and I will never be King of Edenbourg." His words haunted her.
Surely he'd been bluffing. By tomorrow…the next day at the latest, there would be a news story announcing Nicholas's new fiancйe.
"And they lived not happily ever after," Rebecca whispered, then turned her head into her pillow and wept for what would never be.

Chapter Nineteen

"Not at the moment. I'm waiting for somebody," Nicholas replied.
The waitress, a blonde with breasts that nearly spilled out of her low-cut uniform smiled saucily. "Sometimes we have things that aren't on the menu." She winked and slid a piece of scrap paper toward him. "My phone number…just in case you want to order а la carte."
Nicholas picked up the piece of paper and crumpled it into a ball. He wasn't interested. He wasn't interested in anyone except Rebecca.
He took a sip of his wine and sighed in relief as he saw Gabe approach the secluded table. He half rose, but Gabe motioned him down as he slid into the chair opposite Nicholas.
"Nicholas." Gabe nodded a greeting.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet me," Nicholas said.

"I'm not sure why I'm here," Gabe confessed. "But I think I have an idea."
"Rebecca," Nicholas replied, as if that said it all.
Gabe nodded. "That's what I thought."
"It's been two days since I've seen her…spoken with her. I thought it best if I give her some time to think."
"And what does this have to do with me?" Gabe asked.
"I need help," Nicholas confessed. "I need to convince Rebecca to marry me." He twisted his napkin between his fingers. "You know Rebecca — tell me what I need to do."
The waitress appeared at their table. Gabe ordered a meal, but Nicholas waved her away. "I'm not hungry," he said.
"No appetite?" Gabe's dark brows rose. "Not sleeping well? Having difficulty focusing?"
Nicholas looked at him in amazement. "Yes, all those. How did you know?"
Gabe grinned. "I've been there. It's called love, Nicholas."
"Love." Wonder flowed through Nicholas. But of course. Love for Rebecca echoed in every chamber of his heart, flowed vibrantly through his veins. He loved Rebecca Baxter and he didn't know what to do about it. He leaned forward. "Gabe, you've got to help me. Make her marry me. I need her."
"I can't make Rebecca do anything," Gabe protested. "Have you told her how you feel?"
"I told her I didn't want to marry anyone else. I told her we would have a good marriage." Nicholas frowned. "I don't know what else to say to her."
"Have you told her you love her?"
Nicholas twisted the napkin once again. "No." He frowned thoughtfully. He said those words a hundred times in his past to a hundred women because he'd known it was what they wanted to hear. But, there had never been any real emotion behind the words.
Again Gabe smiled. "Women are funny creatures, Nicholas. They don't want implied. They need to hear the words."
"I hadn't said those words to her because my feelings for her transcend those simple three words." Again wonder raced through Nicholas.
He'd been searching for love a long time — all the women he'd dated, all the relationships he'd had. But, it had remained elusive. And when he'd given up the notion, decided it was a foolish sentiment, it had reared up and slapped him in the face.
"I love her," he said aloud and looked at Gabe in astonishment. He stood, unable to sit another minute. "I'm sorry…I've got to go."
Gabe grinned. "I figured as much. Go on."
Nicholas raced from the restaurant, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt more alive than he'd ever felt in his life, and his heart ached with love for Rebecca.
It wasn't until he was halfway to Gabe and Serena's house that a dreadful thought struck him. He loved Rebecca, but what if she didn't love him?

Chapter Twenty

An arrow of pleasure swept through Rebecca, but it left a spasm of pain in its wake. She didn't want to see Nicholas, didn't want to have the same arguments about marriage that had so often marked their days spent together.
"Rebecca?"
"Yes, I'll speak with him," she said. She at least owed him that, she told herself.
She found him waiting for her in the living room. When she stepped into the room, he advanced toward her, arms outstretched as if to embrace her.
She held up her hands to halt his progress. "Why are you here? What do you want, Nicholas?"
Drat him for looking so achingly handsome and drat him for renewing her heartache with his mere presence.
"I want you," he replied.
"We've been through all that," Rebecca replied wearily. "We've talked this subject to death and there is nothing left to say. Nothing is going to change my mind. You have four days…you should be making arrangements for your wedding." Each and every word shot painful arrows through her heart. "Please go."
Before she could protest, he grabbed her by the shoulders. "I can't go yet. Not until I tell you I love you. I love you, Rebecca. Now, please marry me."
The heartache that had claimed Rebecca's heart dissipated as a near-blinding anger ripped through her. "How dare you!" she said unsteadily.
She jerked away from him, her anger building with each second that passed. "How dare you tell me you love me just to get your own way."
"But —"
"You spent enough time with me, we talked enough that you discovered that love is what I want and I won't settle for less. How convenient of you to tell me now that you love me."
"But it's the truth," he exclaimed with a touch of indignation.
"No, it's a shrewd manipulation to get what you want. Flowers didn't buy me, jewelry didn't move me, so now you pull out the big guns."
"Rebecca, please…this isn't any sort of manipulation." He gazed at her, his bewilderment radiating from his eyes. "I thought you'd be pleased. How can I make you believe me? I love you."
He tried to reach for her again, but she evaded his attempt. "You can't make me believe you," she retorted, appalled to feel the burning of tears.
If only she could believe him. But she didn't dare. He didn't know the first thing about love.
She drew a deep breath. " Just go. I don't ever want to see you or talk to you again." She turned and fled the room.

Chapter Twenty-One

How could he make her understand that?
He'd tried all his usual ways and they had failed…failed miserably because Rebecca wasn't his usual type of woman. He played and replayed the moments spent with her in his mind, and suddenly, hope renewed itself in him.
He raced out of Serena and Gabe's house and returned an hour later. "I must speak with her one last time," he said to Serena when she allowed him entry.
Serena frowned. "I don't think she'll come downstairs."
"Then, I will go up." He headed for the stairs.
"Third door on the right," Serena called after him.
He found her stretched out on her bed, facedown. "Rebecca," he said softly.
"Go away." The pillow muffled her voice.
"I want to talk to you."
"I said, go away." She punctuated the demand by throwing a pillow toward him.
"Ah, you're showing your temper again."
She sat up, her eyes reddened from the tears she'd been shedding. The sight of those tears hurt him, yet filled him with renewed hope. If she didn't care about him, why was she crying?
"You told me once you could never fall in love with a man without dreams. At that time I had no dreams, but I'm not the same man. You gave me a glimpse of your dreams and somehow they became my own. I want what your parents had, a marriage based on love, and I can only have that with you."
He waited a moment for her to say something, but she remained silent and he continued. "I was a fool to think flowers or expensive baubles might change your mind. That's the Stanbury tradition, and I think it's time I start a new tradition…a tradition of love." He handed her a small gift box. "Go on, open it."
She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She opened the box to reveal a cheap, tawdry key ring in the shape of a heart. On the back was a sticker that read Made in Taiwan. She looked at Nicholas questioningly.
"I figured Taiwan was a good place to begin our journey of anniversaries together. You know…keep your mother and father's tradition going."
She blinked once…twice…then stood and he reached for her. He held her close and stroked the softness of her hair. "I thought my destiny was to be King of Edenbourg, but I believe my true destiny is to spend my life loving you," he said.
"Oh, Nicholas. I love you," Rebecca replied.
The words sang in his heart, danced on his soul and he kissed her with all the love that was contained inside him.
"Rebecca, marry me. Put me out of my misery. I can't imagine my life without you," he said when their kiss had ended.
"Yes," she replied, her eyes shining brighter than any gem he might possibly buy. "Yes, I'll marry you."
Again they kissed…a kiss of promise, of passion, of love.
"What happens now?" she asked. "Do we find a justice of the peace so we can get married before your father's deadline runs out?"
"No." He stroked a finger down the side of her cheek. "I don't want a hurry-up wedding. I only intend to do this once in my life, and I want it done right." He took her hand in his. "Come…we'll go talk to my father."

Chapter Twenty-Two

"And tell me why I should grant your request," he said. "Why should I extend my deadline another month?"
"It took a year for me to find a woman I love with all my heart." Nicholas looked at Rebecca, and in the warmth of his gaze she felt his love. "This is the woman I've been seeking, and she owns my heart. I love her, father. I love her as I've never loved before."
"And what does this have to do with my deadline?" King Michael asked.
"We can marry here, before a justice of the peace," Rebecca said. "I'll marry Nicholas wherever, whenever, in whatever kind of ceremony he wants. But we think it would be better to marry in Edenbourg."
"Where our countrymen can share in the celebration and the joy," Nicholas added.
King Michael stared at them for a long moment. "There are some men born to duty, and others born to love. And there are a few very lucky ones who are born to have both. It would appear, my son, that you are one of the lucky ones. You will make a good king. Permission granted," he said, then waved his hands in dismissal.
Nicholas squeezed Rebecca's hand as they turned to leave.
"Rebecca." The king halted them and they turned back to face him. "I command you to give me a grandchild within a year."
"With all due respect, sir. There are some things you simply can't command…nature being one of them. However, I can promise you this.…" She smiled at Nicholas. "We will do all that we can to try to adhere to your command."
King Michael stared at her for a long moment, and Rebecca wondered if she'd somehow offended him. Then, one corner of his mouth curved upward and he nodded to his son. "You have chosen well." The half smile disappeared. "Now, go."
They left the suite and when they stepped out into the hotel hallway, Nicholas gathered her into his arms. "You were wonderful," he said.
"I was scared to death," she confessed. "He isn't exactly the warm and cuddly kind of father, is he?"
"No." Nicholas frowned thoughtfully. "For so many years I've rebelled against him because maybe someplace inside I wanted him to be a warm and cuddly father. But what he is, is a good and wise king."
"And he said you will make a good king." Rebecca smiled at Nicholas.
He pulled her closer, more tightly against him; his eyes darkened with desire…and love. "I will be a good king, but you will make me be a wise king because I'll be a king who knows love."
He kissed her and Rebecca responded with all the love she had for him inside her. She had not only found herself a prince…more important, she had found her happily-ever-after, and it was right here in Nicholas's arms.