Читать книгу Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince - Melissa McClone - Страница 10

AS THE plane cruised at thirty-three thousand feet, the interior cabin lights dimmed. The engines droned, but unlike the white noise device Niko usually traveled with, the sound did not soothe him. He couldn’t sleep. Too many things weighed on his mind. But a busy day did lie ahead. He should at least try to rest.

Niko pressed the button on the armrest. The leather seat reclined into a comfortable position. He closed his eyes but couldn’t stop the continuous stream of information flowing through his brain. Thoughts about Vernonia, Julianna, his father and most especially the woman sitting in the seat next to him.

Isabel.

Opening his eyes, he turned toward her.

She sat with her seat reclined and her head resting against a pillow. She’d fallen asleep after struggling against her heavy, drooping eyelids and drawn-out yawns for almost an hour.

Isabel’s unwillingness to give in to her tiredness without a fight made him wonder if she turned everything she did into a battle. Her actions today suggested as much. But the political peace that came with her lineage could be good for the country.

Yes, Isabel seemed like a fighter. No doubt the Vernonian in her. Niko smiled at the thought that she would likely disagree with him. No matter, he would want her on his side. If he had a side. Thankfully those days were over. No one would be forced to choose who to support or who to fight again.

Once he and Julianna said the words “I do,” Niko would have the financial resources and international support to bring his country into the modern age and, in time, the European Union.

Nothing could stand in his way now.

Not an antiquated custom. Not a childhood bride.

Niko’s gaze focused on Isabel once again.

He’d been married to her for the past twenty-three years, almost all of her entire life and over three-quarters of his. If not for the missing bride box, he would have never known she existed. Things would have been less complicated for him that way. But once she received her inheritance her circumstance would improve dramatically. A better life was waiting for Isabel. The life her parents would have wanted for her. That made what he was going through more acceptable.

He worried what responsibilities would be thrust on Isabel’s shoulders once she arrived in Vernonia. People would judge her. She would need training to be a princess. Stylish clothes and makeup lessons would improve her appearance. A manicure would help with her dirty, chipped nails though not much could rid her hands of the calluses, cuts and scars. Perhaps she could start a new fashion trend by wearing gloves.

In spite of Isabel’s faults and disregard for etiquette and style, she was a refreshing change from the other royals he’d encountered over the years. She was not caught up in the tangled web of tradition. Even Julianna, as perfect as she was, came from a kingdom more out-of-date than Vernonia.

He admired Isabel for working on cars. He remembered what being a soldier was like. Living day-to-day, sometimes hour-to-hour. It was the closest thing to an ordinary existence he’d had. Even after she put her mechanic days behind her, she could relate to the people at their level.

Isabel might not know how to be a princess yet, but at least she was a contemporary woman, something rarely found in his country. He could use that to his advantage as he moved forward with his plans. Though right now she looked more like a schoolgirl than a woman with the cashmere blanket tucked around her shoulders.

The cover rose and fell with each of her breaths. Her hair fanned across the pillow, the brown strands contrasting with the white fabric. The slender column of her neck contradicted the stiff backbone she’d shown earlier. The curve of her cheek and fullness of her lips weren’t diminished by the lack of makeup and lip-gloss on her face. She possessed a natural beauty.

Although Niko appreciated her spirit and self-reliance, he couldn’t deny the appeal of this softer side. The defiant set of her chin and tight jaw had relaxed. The result of sleep, but she looked so peaceful and serene. He wondered if she ever looked this way awake. He doubted it.

With her lips slightly parted, she almost appeared to be smiling. The result of a pleasant dream? A dream about him?

No. Her dreams were none of his business. Isabel might be his wife, but he should think of her like a sister. Anything else would be … inappropriate given his intention to marry Julianna.

Isabel shifted in her seat. The way she stretched reminded him of one of the feral cats who lived in the stable. As she settled into a new position, the top half of her blanket fell from her shoulders and pooled on her lap.

He could see the rise and fall of her chest better now. The V-neck collar gave a tantalizing view of creamy skin and lace. The fabric of her shirt stretched across her breasts. The cool cabin temperature beaded her nipples.

Niko covered her with the blanket and tucked the edge around her shoulders.

“Sir,” Jovan said, standing in the aisle.

Niko jerked his hands away from Isabel, feeling as if the palace’s renowned pastry chef had caught him sneaking a tulumbe from a batch soaking in syrup overnight.

“It is late.” Jovan handed him a blanket. “There is nothing more to be done until we arrive in Vernonia. Please rest, sir.”

Niko knew sleep was futile, but he placed the blanket on his lap. Jovan was only trying to do his job. “The shopping arrangements…”

“Have been taken care of, sir. Princess Julianna has offered her assistance and expertise.”

The future wife helping the soon-to-be former one? The thought of the two women, so very different, made Niko’s temples throb. “That will be … interesting.”

“Princess Julianna’s sense of duty is matched only by your own,” Jovan said. “She simply wants to help you, sir.”

Niko only hoped Isabel accepted the help. That independent streak of hers might get in the way. “Julianna will make a fine queen.”

Jovan nodded. “She will also be an excellent role model for Princess Isabel to emulate, sir.”

“Yes.” Niko glanced at Isabel to see if she was still asleep. He lowered his voice. “She will need all the help she can get.”

Jovan smiled at the sleeping woman. “Princess Isabel is not what I expected, but she has … spirit. She puts on no airs. Plays no games.”

“She is different and has a certain down-to-earth charm,” Niko agreed. “In time she could become a role model herself.”

Jovan’s brows furrowed. “I do not think she intends to stay long enough for that to happen, sir.”

“Once Isabel sees all Vernonia has to offer, she will want to stay. We can have her things shipped over.”

“You sound certain, sir.”

“I am,” Niko stated. “You saw the hovel she calls home. Her life in the United States leaves much to be desired.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind that life, sir,” Jovan said. “And with her inheritance …”

“Perhaps she does not know any better.”

Niko’s gaze returned to Isabel’s face. Her full lips still appeared to be smiling. He wouldn’t mind a taste of them. A kiss.

No. He couldn’t allow himself to go there, even if he was … tempted.

He focused his attention on his aide. “Staying in Vernonia is best for Isabel.”

Just as Julianna was best for Vernonia, thus best for him.

“I wonder what Princess Isabel will have to say about that, sir,” Jovan said.

“She may not have an Ivy League education, but she is intelligent. It won’t take her long to realize where her future lies.”

“If she disagrees, I suppose we can finally make use of the tower, sir,” Jovan joked.

Niko laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time around my father.”

“Isabel.”

A man was calling Izzy’s name, but she didn’t open her eyes. Her alarm clock hadn’t buzzed yet. That meant this must still be part of her dream, an odd mix of fairy tale and nightmare with a brooding, handsome prince holding her captive in a tower.

“Isabel,” the man said again.

She liked the way the three syllables rolled off his tongue. I-sa-bel. She snuggled against the pillow, wanting more sleep and more of him.

The bed lurched, as if she were riding on a flying carpet that had come to a sudden stop.

“Welcome to Vernonia,” the male voice continued.

Where? And then she realized.

Izzy wasn’t in bed dreaming. She forced her heavy eyelids open. Bright sunlight streamed through the window. She blinked. The plane had not only landed, but also parked. A small turboprop taxied by.

Every single one of her muscles tensed. Yesterday had been real. The box. Her parents. The prince.

She clutched the armrests.

“Good morning, Isabel,” Niko said from the seat next to her.

Izzy saw nothing good about this morning. She was tired, surrounded by strangers and far away from home. She turned toward Niko to tell him as much, but her mouth went dry at the sight of him.

Hello, Prince Hottie. Heat pulsed through her veins.

The stubble on Niko’s face made him look sexier, dangerous. Especially with his scar. A real bad boy. His clothes remained unwrinkled, as if he’d just stepped away from a photo shoot, not spent the night flying across an ocean and a continent.

“You didn’t eat much dinner last night,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

She wouldn’t mind a bite of him.

Strike that. A serving of prince sunny side up wasn’t on the menu this morning. Or any morning, Izzy reminded herself. This wasn’t just some guy. He was her husband. At least for another couple of days until the High Court was back in session.

Izzy toyed with the edge of the blanket covering her lap. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“I will have a meal delivered to your room in case you are hungry later.”

Room service? She wiggled her toes with anticipation. She’d never stayed at a nice hotel that offered room service. Maybe this trip would have some bright spots. “Thanks, but please don’t go to any trouble. I can order my own food.”

“It is no trouble,” he said.

But it was for her. “I prefer to do things myself.”

“Luka already came by with the warm towels,” Niko continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If you would like one—”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Tired, but good. Izzy yawned, hoping she wasn’t breaking some princess protocol. She needed more sleep. A shower wouldn’t hurt. Once she arrived at the hotel …

“Ready to see your homeland?” Niko asked.

Vernonia might be her place of birth, but she would never call it her homeland. “I suppose I can’t stay on the plane all day.”

“You could.”

“Really?”

“You’re a princess,” he said, as if she knew all the rules about being royalty. “But you might get bored.”

“I don’t do well being bored.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

She stood and placed the shoulder strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

“The crew will carry your backpack,” Niko said.

“I don’t mind.”

“The crew does. They consider it an honor to serve you.”

“I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. My wallet and ID are in it.”

“It looks strange for a princess to be hauling around a backpack.”

“It’s my purse,” she countered. “Besides I don’t care what other people think of me.”

A muscle flicked at his jaw. “You’ve made that quite obvious.”

Niko pressed his lips together. The same way he’d done in Charlotte. He wasn’t happy with her. He’d probably better get used to it for as long as she was in town.

“Just so you know,” she said. “It bugs me when people try to tell me what I can or can’t do.”

She walked down the aisle before he could say anything else to annoy her.

The other passengers, who had been introduced by job titles, not names during the flight, had already deplaned. The flight crew, including the pilots, stood in a line at the front of the plane. Izzy thanked them and exited.

At the top of the portable staircase, she took a deep breath. The crisp air refreshed her.

The airport wasn’t as large as the one in Charlotte and seemed to be built on a plateau. Everything from the control tower to the runways looked brand-new. Beyond the runways the flat landscape gave way to foothills and rocky mountains beyond that.

Niko joined her on the landing. He motioned to a black limousine at the bottom of the stairs. “Our chariot awaits.”

Attached to the front of the car were two small blue and white flags with yellow emblems in the center. They fluttered in the cool breeze. Uniformed guards with large guns stood nearby. A man in a black suit unloaded the luggage from a cart. He carefully placed her battered duffel bag into the trunk as if it contained fragile Fabergé eggs, not thrift store bargain buys.

Feelings of inadequacy swept through her. Izzy was completely out of her league here. She clutched the metal handrail like a lifeline.

Niko extended his arm. “I’m only offering because you must be tired.”

His gesture of chivalry brought tears to her eyes. Uncle Frank used to do the same thing before escorting her across the street or down a parking lot staircase. Izzy wiped her eyes with her hand.

Boy, she must really be jet-lagged to get so sentimental. But Niko was right. Her legs were stiff from the flight. Her shoes fit tighter, making her wonder if her feet had swollen. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t feeling more tired by the minute.

Falling down the stairs was a distinct possibility in her current condition and would not be a good start to her visit to Vernonia. Forget making a faux pas. The stage was set for an epic fail. She couldn’t let that happen.

Better safe than sorry. Izzy wrapped her arm around Niko’s. “Thanks.”

Together, they descended the stairs. He went slowly, shortening his long stride. For her sake, Izzy realized. Her thoughts about him being a knight in shining armor weren’t too far off. Still she wasn’t comfortable needing his assistance. She’d been standing on her own two feet for the last five years, ever since Uncle Frank died. Leaning on someone else felt odd and unnatural, even if it was only for the length of the portable staircase.

“You are not merely tired.” His gazed remained focused straight ahead, never straying her way. A slight breeze ruffled the ends of his hair. Even the scar on his face suited him. He wasn’t a perfect prince, but he wasn’t that bad. “You are exhausted.”

“Yeah.” She struggled not to yawn. “Though I’m not sure why since I slept most of the flight.”

“Jet lag. It’s the middle of the night in Charlotte,” he explained. “You need time to adjust. You can rest soon. Though not too long or your body clock will be thrown off even more.”

“A short nap is all I need.”

“A short nap you shall have.”

His grin made her breath catch in her throat. Izzy wouldn’t mind if he tucked her in and kissed her good-night.

Her foot missed a step. As if in slow motion, she fell backward. Her right hand clutched the railing. Her left hand gripped Niko’s arm. Somehow he caught her before her bottom hit the staircase.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

His strong arms righted her so she was standing upright. “Yes,” she said grateful. “Thanks to you.”

“Only a few more steps.”

Thank goodness. Her entire body trembled. Not because of the near fall, but because of Niko. Looks aside, his compelling presence drew her in like a tow truck’s winch. She needed to get away from him.

As soon as Izzy reached the tarmac, she slid her arm from his. The chauffeur opened the back door. She climbed inside. Leaning back against the leather seat, she stretched out her legs, relieved to be away from Niko.

He slid into the limousine and sat next to her even though the rest of the seats were empty. Darn the man. Didn’t he understand the concept of personal space?

His thigh pressed against hers. Not on purpose, she thought. Still her temperature rose.

The prince might be a hottie, but he was off-limits. He was her husband, but he planned on marrying someone else. His heart wasn’t on the open market. She couldn’t allow herself to be attracted to him.

Izzy scooted away. She needed something to defuse her growing awareness to him. “Where’s Jovan?”

“In the front with the driver.” Niko pressed a button and lowered the dark glass separating the back of the limousine from the front. “Jovan is making sure everything will be ready for you to shop today.”

“I don’t have to go shopping today.”

“I know you are tired. I wish you could have more time to adjust, but my parents expect you to attend dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” Her voice cracked. “That’s, um, nice of them, but dinner isn’t really necessary. I mean, in a few days, we won’t even be married.”

“Our parents were friends. They orchestrated our wedding,” Niko explained. “You are and always will be a princess of Vernonia and should consider us family.”

Family.

Izzy felt a pang in her heart.

The word family brought up all kinds of strange emotions. Ones she’d tried to ignore while growing up. She’d never had any family except Uncle Frank. “That’s a generous offer, but I feel more like a serf than a royal.”

“A royal serf,” Niko said. “An oxymoron.”

“How about a royal waif?” she suggested.

Laughter danced in his warm eyes. “Serf, waif or princess, you’ll find acceptance here, Isabel.”

The only people who had ever accepted her were back at Rowdy’s garage, but she appreciated Niko trying to make her feel better. She stifled a yawn.

“After you rest, you will shop. Someone will help you select and organize the various outfits you’ll need.”

“Um, thanks.” Izzy didn’t know whether to be offended or grateful he was providing her help. She didn’t care about what was in style or not, but she wasn’t colorblind. “I don’t need a lot.”

“Most women like having several different outfits.”

“I’m not like most women.”

His gaze raked over her. “No, you are not.”

She didn’t think he intended that to be a compliment, but she wasn’t offended. His words reaffirmed what she already knew. Izzy Poussard wasn’t princess material. She didn’t belong in Vernonia. She needed to take care of business, learn about her family and return home to Charlotte.

As the limo left the airport, Niko pointed out the window toward a town up ahead. “We’re entering the capital city.”

Izzy was surprised to see a city smaller and more compact than Charlotte with narrower roads. But the commotion on the streets suggested a busy, bustling town.

A crane lifted steel girders while men in yellow hard hats guided them onto the fourth floor of a construction site. Next door, scaffolding covered the front of a new office building and men painted. Across the street, a woman in a multicolored skirt, boots and long sweater pushed a baby stroller. Two teenagers kicked a soccer ball back and forth as they hurried past the woman and child. A man in a business suit glanced at the limousine before hurrying into a newer five-story building made of steel and glass.

“What do you think?” Niko asked.

“It’s very modern for a country that allowed children to marry.”

“I told you, that is against the law now.”

“Yes, you did.” She didn’t see any garbage or graffiti anywhere. That was quite an achievement. “Everything is so new and clean. Even the streets.”

“This part of town was demolished by bombing,” he explained. “Rebuilding takes time and money. Projects are being spread out to best utilize our resources.”

The limousine drove into another part of town. This section consisted of smaller stone and brick rectangular buildings each painted a different color. Some were new, but many were older. Several had window boxes, but no flowers. “Is this a residential area?”

“Yes.”

Izzy noticed one similarity among the colorful homes. Holes on almost every structure. Bullet pocks? she wondered.

A memorial sign hung on a pole. Flowers and pictures were attached. She shuddered.

“I can’t imagine what living through a war must be like. Just watching the television coverage of 9/11 was difficult. Granted I was a teenager, but this …” A weight pressed down on her chest. “I hope this never happens again.”

“I intend to make sure it doesn’t,” Niko stated firmly. “War is never pleasant, but fighting amongst your own is particularly brutal. Friend against friend. Brother against brother. Both the Loyalists and the Separatists accepted the treaty unanimously. Our postconflict elections have gone well. We are fortunate to have not faced some of the problems that have plagued other Balkan countries. I am determined to see that peace is upheld and good triumphs for all Vernonians. No matter what side they supported in the conflict.”

Her respect for him rose. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.”

The limousine left the town behind and traveled up a steep hill. Tall trees lined both sides of the road and cast shadows on the pavement. As the car crested a bump, she saw a castle in the distance.

Her heart beat triple time.

A fairy-tale castle, so perfect it appeared to have been painted on a canvas of blue. Turrets jutted into the sky. Leaded glass windows sparkled. Silver roof tiles gleamed beneath the morning sun. She’d never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

“Wow.”

“We are fortunate the castle remained in such good shape given the battles fought here,” Niko said. “The wall took several mortar hits, but that was the worst of the damage.”

“Thank goodness.” Jovan turned around from the front seat. “The royal family stayed in residence during the conflict.”

“When we weren’t fighting,” Niko said.

Izzy was surprised a royal would be out on the front line. “You fought in the war?”

“Yes.” The one word spoke volumes. “Stefan and I fought with the loyalists to preserve the boundaries and traditions of all people.”

Izzy could imagine Niko as a warrior, fierce and hard, defending his people to the death. That took courage and strength. She pointed to the jagged scar on his cheek. “Did you get that fighting?”

“Yes, we are all marked in some way by the conflict,” he said. “Some scars are physical. Others are not.”

Did Niko have other scars? Hidden ones? Izzy wanted to know, but didn’t know him well enough to ask. She wanted to see if there was more to this seemingly in-control prince than met the eye. Curiosity about the man her parents had married her off to, she rationalized.

As the limousine approached the castle, the immense structure loomed in front of her. Was that a moat?

She peered out the window. Yes, it was. A river flowed underneath a bridge flanked by armed guards. One waved the limousine across.

Two minutes later, the car stopped in front of tall, wooden doors. A uniformed man stepped outside. His white dress shirt, creased pants and sharp jacket made Izzy feel totally under-dressed in her faded jeans, T-shirt and ratty sneakers. No wonder the prince was so keen on her shopping.

“Your bag will be delivered to your room, ma’am,” Jovan said before exiting the limousine.

“Wait a minute.” Izzy’s gaze locked with Niko’s. “I thought I was staying at a hotel.”

“You are legally my wife,” Niko said. “You will stay here at the castle until the annulment has been granted.”

“I want to stay at a hotel.”

“No.”

Darn the man. He hadn’t listened to her before. If he had, he wouldn’t be telling her what to do. “But—”

“The castle is the most suitable place for you to stay.”

Izzy could rattle off a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t stay here with him, the queen and the king. She settled on one. “I’d be more comfortable in a hotel.”

“You will be more comfortable here,” Niko countered. “Your every whim will be catered to by the castle’s staff.”

“I don’t have any whims that need catering.”

He set his jaw. “No hotel.”

Her eyelids felt heavy. She needed to sit down. “I really—”

“This isn’t up for negotiation.”

Her tiredness was putting her at a disadvantage. She couldn’t think fast enough. “Please.”

“You will sleep better here than anywhere. Trust me.”

Izzy didn’t trust him. She couldn’t.

“It’s also better for you to stay at the castle for security reasons.”

Okay, that she could accept.

“Fine. I’ll concede on that point.” She stared down her nose. “But just so you know, as soon as we get the annulment, I’m outta here.”

I’m outta here.

Niko had one parting thought before he handed Isabel off to a maid.

Good riddance.

He kept the thought to himself, balling his hands into fists instead. He would not lower himself to her level.

The woman was ill-mannered and brash. She had no idea how she was supposed to act. A month locked in the tower with only etiquette and protocol books might actually help her learn to be a princess. The room in the tower would be better for her than the rusty aluminum can she called home. Though she would probably miss the grease from the garage.

The sharp click from his heels against the wood floor as he strode through the hall echoed his irritation.

“Niko.”

He stopped and flexed his fingers. He did not want his annoyance at his “wife” to affect his soon-to-be new wife.

Julianna stood in the doorway of the library. Her designer skirt and short-fitted jacket complemented her figure the same way her deftly applied makeup accentuated her features. Her long, blond hair gleamed under the lights. “Welcome home.”

One word came to mind as he stared at her—perfection. He couldn’t have found a better princess to be Vernonia’s queen. Her beauty was matched by her intelligence. She spoke four languages fluently—German, French, Italian and English. She was an Olympic-caliber sailor and an excellent spokesperson. She had the necessary family connections and wealth, but her sense of duty set her above many of the other unmarried royals he’d met over the past few years. She knew what her country expected of her, and she fulfilled her duty without question. One hundred and eighty degrees different from Isabel.

“It’s good to see you, Julianna.”

“And you.” She sounded genuinely pleased to him. That would bode well for their future together, if only he could stop thinking about … his current wife. “I hope your trip went well,” Julianna added.

The hallway was empty, but that didn’t mean people weren’t listening. He didn’t want to take any chance of someone overhearing him.

“Let’s talk in the library where we will not be disturbed.” Niko led her past floor-to-ceiling bookcases to a small meeting room in the back. He closed the door.

Julianna ran her fingers along the polished walnut desk. “I had no idea this room was even here.”

Memories of pestering his older brother, Stefan, while he attempted to study surfaced. Niko pushed them and the pang of grief aside. “Thank you for offering to help Isabel with her shopping.”

Julianna smiled softly. “It’s the least I can do for you.”

Niko had always put Vernonia first. He dated, but had never had a true partner to confide in or ask for help. Perhaps that would change soon. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, but it’s not a hardship. I love to shop.”

He wasn’t about to criticize his current wife to his future spouse, but he didn’t want Julianna blindsided, either. “You may find Isabel a reluctant shopper.”

“I’m sure I can convince her a shopping spree is in order.”

“It could be a challenge,” Niko admitted. “Isabel does not want to be a princess.”

Julianna smiled knowingly. “Every woman wants to be a princess, even if they would never dare admit it aloud.”

“Not Isabel.” His blood pressure rose thinking about her. “I’ve never met a woman who tried so hard not to be female.”

Julianna furrowed her finely arched brows. “Isabel wants to be a man?”

“No, but she is a car mechanic. She works hard not to look like a woman. No makeup. Baggy coveralls. Very casual clothing. No dresses or high heels.”

“You sound exasperated.”

“She is exasperating.”

“First impressions can be deceiving,” Julianna counseled, making Niko wonder if this was how she spoke to her younger brothers. “Isabel must be in shock.”

“The news has shocked her, but I don’t believe my impression of her is far off.” Niko thought about her parting words to him. “Isabel is young. She speaks without thinking. She has no sense of what it is to be royalty.”

“She sounds refreshing.”

“I thought so yesterday, but today we keep … clashing,” he admitted. “She slept so peacefully last night, but when she awoke this morning she was more beast than beauty.”

Julianna’s mouth quirked. “Isabel is a beauty?”

“Not exactly,” he backtracked. “Some men might find her attractive.”

“Do you?”

“She’s my wife. I don’t think of her in that way.”

Amusement gleamed in Julianna’s eyes. “I see.”

“There’s nothing to see,” he countered. “Fortunately Isabel agrees an annulment is the only option. She was excited to hear about our getting married.”

Julianna sighed. No doubt relieved the upcoming royal engagement and nuptials faced no more obstacles. “We can add her to the wedding party. A royal wedding can never have too many attendants.”

“That is thoughtful of you.” Her thoughtfulness was another reason why Julianna was perfect for his country. “I doubt Isabel will want to remain in Vernonia that long.”

“You must convince her to stay,” Julianna insisted.

“You haven’t met her.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Julianna countered. “Isabel has a duty to fulfill here in Vernonia.”

“I understand what you are saying, but Isabel is very—” he searched for a somewhat complimentary adjective “—independent. I don’t think she is the type to fulfill her duty.”

“She needs training,” Julianna said. “I can help her.”

“You don’t know what you’re offering to take on.”

“Come now, you make her sound like an ogre.”

“Not an ogre,” he admitted. “Ornery.”

“I have four younger brothers. I can handle ornery.”

“See how shopping goes, then you can decide if you want to continue helping her or not.”

“I can’t wait to see what you think of her with a brand-new wardrobe complete with coordinating accessories, shoes and makeup.”

Niko’s shoulders tensed. No way would Isabel agree to a total makeover. “Just get her into a dress by dinnertime, and I’ll be much obliged.”

“Obliged enough for another sail tomorrow?” Julianna challenged.

The jaunt to America had wreaked havoc with his schedule. Niko had little to no free time right now. He appreciated Julianna’s help because that meant he didn’t have to deal with Isabel himself. The woman didn’t need only a fashion makeover, she needed a complete personality transplant. Niko doubted even the capable Aliestle princess could do much with Isabel by dinnertime. But if Julianna was willing to try.

“If you can make her presentable to my parents, I’ll gladly find the time to go sailing with you tomorrow.”