Читать книгу Not-So-Perfect Princess: Not-So-Perfect Princess - Melissa McClone, Barbara Wallace - Страница 7

“THREE ARRANGED marriages and not one has made it to the altar. That is unacceptable!” King Alaric of Aliestle’s voice thundered through the throne room like a lion’s roar. Even the castle’s tapestry-covered stone walls appeared to tremble. “If men think something is wrong with you, no amount of dowry will convince one to marry you.”

Princess Julianna Louise Marie Von Schneckle didn’t allow her father’s harsh words to affect her posture. She stood erect with her shoulders back and her chin up, maximizing her five-foot-eight-inch-stature. The way she’d been taught to do by a bevy of governesses and nannies. Her stepmother didn’t take a personal interest in her, but was diligent in ensuring she’d received the necessary training to be a perfect princess and queen.

“Father,” Jules said evenly, not about to display an ounce of emotion. Tears and histrionics would play into her country’s outdated gender stereotypes. They also wouldn’t sway her father. “I was willing to marry Prince Niko, but he discovered Princess Isabel was alive and legally his wife. He had no choice but to end our arrangement.”

Her father’s nostrils flared. “The reason your match ended doesn’t matter.”

Jules understood why he was upset. He wanted to marry her off to a crown prince in order to put one of his grandchildren on a throne outside of Aliestle. He was willing to pay a king’s ransom to make that happen. She’d become the wealthiest royal broodmare around. Unfortunately.

He glared down his patrician nose at her. “The result is the same. Three times now—”

“If I may, Father.” Indignation made Jules speak up. She rarely interrupted her father. Okay, never. She was a dutiful daughter, but she wasn’t going to take the blame for this. “You may have forgotten with all the other important matters on your mind, but you canceled my first match with Prince Christian. And Prince Richard was in love with an American when I arrived on San Montico.”

“These failed engagements are still an embarrassment.” Her father’s frown deepened the lines on his face. The wrinkles reminded Jules of the valley crags in the Alps surrounding their small country. “A stain on our family name and Aliestle.”

A lump of guilt lodged in her throat. Jules had been relieved when she found out Niko wouldn’t be able to annul his first marriage and marry her. From the start, she’d hoped he would fall in love with his long-lost wife so Jules wouldn’t have to get married.

Oh, she’d liked Vernonia with its loyal people and lovely lakes for sailing. The handsome crown prince wanted to modernize his country, not be held back by antiquated customs. She would have had more freedom than she’d ever imagined as his wife and future queen. But she didn’t love Niko.

Silly, given her country’s tradition of arranged marriages. The realist in her knew the odds of marrying for love were slim to none, but the dream wouldn’t die. It grew stronger with the end of each arranged match.

Too bad dreams didn’t matter in Aliestle. Only duty.

Alaric shook his head. “If your mother were alive …”

Mother. Not stepmother.

Jules felt a pang in her heart. “If my mother were alive, I hope she would understand I tried my best.”

She didn’t remember her mother, Queen Brigitta, who had brought progressive, almost shocking, ideas to Aliestle when she married King Alaric. Though the match had been arranged, he fell so deeply in love with his young wife that he’d listened to her differing views on gender equality and proposed new laws at her urging, including higher education opportunities for women. He even took trips with her so she could indulge her passion for sailing despite vocal disapproval from the Council of Elders.

But after Brigitta died competing in a sailing race in the South Pacific when Jules was two, a heartbroken Alaric vowed never to go against convention again. He didn’t rescind the legislation regarding education opportunities for women, but he placed limitations on the jobs females could hold and did nothing to improve their career prospects. He also remarried, taking as his wife and queen a proper Aliestlian noblewoman, one who knew her role and place in society.

“I’d hope my mother would see I’ve spent my life doing what was expected of me out of respect and love for you, my family and our country,” Jules added.

But she knew a lifetime of pleasing others and doing good works didn’t matter. Not in this patriarchal society where daughters, whether royal or commoner, were bartered like chattel. If Jules didn’t marry and put at least one of her children on a throne somewhere, she would be considered a total failure. The obligation and pressure dragged Jules down like a steel anchor.

Her father narrowed his eyes. “I concede you’re not to blame for the three matches ending. You’ve always been a good girl and obeyed my orders.”

His words made her sound like a favored pet, not the beloved daughter he and her mother had spent ten years trying to conceive. Jules wasn’t surprised. Women were treated no differently than lapdogs in Aliestle.

Of course, she’d done nothing to dispel the image. She was as guilty as her father and the Council of Elders for allowing the stereotyping and treatment of women to continue. As a child, she’d learned Aliestle didn’t want her to be as independent and outspoken as her mother had been. They wanted Jules to be exactly what she was—a dutiful princess who didn’t rock the boat. But she hoped to change that once she married and lived outside of Aliestle. She would then be free to help her brother Brandt, the crown prince, so he could modernize their country and improve women’s rights when he became king.

Her father eyed her speculatively. “I suppose it would be premature to marry you off to the heir of an Elder.”

A protest formed in the back of her throat, but Jules pressed her lips together to keep from speaking out. She’d said more than she intended. She had to maintain a cool and calm image even if her insides trembled.

Marrying a royal from Aliestle would keep her stuck in this repressive country forever. Her children, most especially daughters, would face the same obstacles she faced now.

Jules fought a rising panic. “Please, Father, give me another chance. The next match will be successful. I’ll do whatever it takes to marry.”

He raised a brow. “Such enthusiasm.”

More like desperation. She forced the corners of her mouth into a practiced smile. “Well, I’m twenty-eight, father. My biological clock is ticking.”

“Ah, grandchildren.” He beamed, as if another rare natural resource had been discovered in the mountains of Aliestle. “They are the only thing missing in my life. I shall secure you a fourth match right away. Given your track record, I had a backup candidate in mind when you left for Vernonia.”

A backup? His lack of confidence stabbed at her heart.

“All I need to do is negotiate the marriage contract,” he continued.

That would take about five minutes given her dowry.

“Who am I to marry, Father?” Jules asked, as if she wanted to know the person joining them for dinner, not the man she would spend the rest of her life with in a loveless marriage negotiated for the benefit of two countries. But anyone would be better than marrying an Aliestlian.

“Crown Prince Enrique of La Isla de la Aurora.”

“The Island of the Dawn,” she translated.

“It’s a small island in the Mediterranean off the coast of Spain ruled by King Dario.”

Memories of San Montico, another island in the Mediterranean where Crown Prince Richard de Thierry ruled, surfaced. All citizens had equal rights. Arranged marriages were rare though the country had a few old-fashioned customs. She hadn’t been allowed to sail there, but the water and wind had been perfect.

Longing stirred deep inside Jules.

Sailing was her inheritance from her mother and the one place she felt connected to the woman she didn’t remember. It was the only thing Jules did for herself. No matter what life handed out, no matter what tradition she was forced to abide by, she could escape her fate for a few hours when she was on the water.

But only on lakes and rivers.

After Jules learned to sail on the Black Sea while visiting her maternal grandparents, her father had forbidden her to sail on the ocean out of fear she would suffer the same fate as her mother. Two decades later, he still treated Jules like a little girl. Perhaps now he would finally see her as an adult, even though she was female, and change his mind about the restrictions.

“Am I allowed to sail when I’m on the island?” she asked.

“Sailing on the sea is forbidden during your engagement.”

Hope blossomed at his words. He’d never left her an opening before. “After I’m married …?”

“Your husband can decide the fate of your … hobby.”

Not hobby. Passion.

When she was on a boat, only the moment mattered. The wind against her face. The salt in the air. The tiller or a sheet in her hand. She could forget she was Her Royal Highness Princess Julianna and be Jules. Nothing but sailing had ever made her feel so … free.

If La Isla de la Aurora were a progressive island like San Montico, she would have freedom, choice and be allowed to sail on the ocean. Her heart swelled with anticipation. That would be enough to make up for not marrying for love.

“Understand, Julianna, this is your final match outside of Aliestle,” he said firmly. “If Prince Enrique decides he doesn’t want to marry you, you’ll marry one of the Elder’s heirs upon your return home.”

A shiver shot down her spine. “I understand, Father.”

“You may want to push for a short engagement,” he added.

A very short one.

Jules couldn’t afford to have Prince Enrique change his mind about marrying her. She had to convince him she was the only woman for him. The perfect princess for him. And maybe she would find the love she dreamed about on the island. Her parents had fallen in love through an arranged marriage. It could happen to her, too.

She’d avoided thinking about tomorrow. Now she looked forward to the future. “When do I leave for the island, sir?”

“If I complete negotiations with King Dario and Prince Enrique tonight, you may leave tomorrow.” Alaric said. “Your brother Brandt, a maid and a bodyguard will accompany you.”

This was Jules’s last chance for a life of freedom. Not only for herself, but her children and her country. She couldn’t make any mistakes. “I’ll be ready to depart in the morning, Father.”

Lying in bed, Alejandro Cierzo de Amanecer heard a noise outside his room at the beachfront villa. The stray kitten he’d found at the boatyard must want something. He opened his eyes to see sunlight streaming in through the brand-new floor-to-ceiling windows. Most likely breakfast.

The bedroom door burst wide-open. Heavy boots sounded against the recently replaced terra-cotta tile floor.

Not again.

Alejandro grimaced, but didn’t move. He knew the routine.

A squad of royal guards dressed in blue and gold uniforms surrounded his bed. At least they hadn’t drawn their weapons this time. Not that he would call another intrusion progress.

“What does he want now?” Alejandro asked.

The captain of the guard, Sergio Mendoza, looked as stoic as ever, but older with gray hair at his temples. “King Dario requests your presence at the palace, Your Highness.”

Alejandro raked his hand through his hair in frustration. “My father never requests anything.”

Sergio’s facial expression didn’t change. He’d only shown emotion once, when Alejandro had been late bringing Sergio’s youngest daughter home from a date when they were teenagers. In spite of the security detail accompanying them, Alejandro had feared for his life due to the anger in the captain’s eyes.

“The king orders you to come with us now, sir,” Sergio said.

Alejandro didn’t understand why his father wanted to see him. No one at the palace listened to what Alejandro said. He might not want to be part of the monarchy, but he wasn’t about to abandon his country. He’d founded his business here and suggested economic innovations, including developing their tourist trade. But his ideas clashed with those of his father and brother who were more old-fashioned and traditional in their thinking.

A high-pitched squeak sounded. The scraggly black kitten with four white paws clawed his way up the sheet onto the bed. The thing had been a nuisance these past two weeks with the work at the boatyard and renovations here at the villa.

“I need to get dressed before I go anywhere,” Alejandro said.

“We’ll wait while you dress, sir.” Sergio’s words did nothing to loosen Alejandro’s tense shoulder muscles. “The king wants no delay in your arrival.”

Alejandro clenched his teeth. He wanted to tell the loyal captain to leave, but the guards would use force to get him to do what they wanted. He was tired of fighting that battle. “I need privacy.”

Sergio ordered the soldiers out of the room, but he remained standing by the bed. “I’ll wait on the other side of the door, sir. Guards are stationed beneath each window.”

Alejandro rolled his eyes. His father still saw him as a rebellious teenager. “I’m thirty years old, not seventeen.”

Sergio didn’t say anything. No doubt the captain remembered some of Alejandro’s earlier … escapades.

“Tell me where you think I would run to, Captain?” Alejandro lay in bed covered with a sheet. “My business is here. I own properties. My father’s lackeys follow me wherever I go.”

“They are your security detail, sir,” Sergio said. “You must be protected. You’re the second in line for the throne.”

“Don’t remind me,” Alejandro muttered.

“Many would give everything to be in your position.”

Not if they knew what being the “spare” entailed. No one cared what he thought. Even when he tried to help the island, no one supported him. He’d had to do everything on his own.

Alejandro hated being a prince. He’d been educated in the United States. He didn’t want to participate in an outdated form of government where too much power rested with one individual. But he wanted to see his country prosper.

“Guard the door if you must.” Alejandro gave the kitten a pat. “I won’t make your job any more difficult for you than it is.”

As soon as Sergio left, Alejandro slid out of bed and showered. His father hadn’t requested formal dress so khaki shorts, a navy T-shirt and a pair of boat shoes would do.

Twenty minutes later, Alejandro entered the palace’s reception room. His older brother rose from the damask-covered settee. Enrique looked like a younger version of their father with his short hairstyle, tailored designer suit, starched dress shirt, silk tie and polished leather shoes. It was too bad his brother acted like their father, also.

“This had better be important, Enrique,” Alejandro said.

“It is.” His brother’s lips curved into a smug smile. “I’m getting married.”

About time. Enrique’s wedding would be the first step toward Alejandro’s freedom from the monarchy. The birth of a nephew or niece to take his place as second in line for the throne would be the next big step. “Congratulations, bro. I hope it’s a short engagement. Don’t waste any time getting your bride pregnant.”

Enrique smirked. “That’s the plan.”

“Why wait until the wedding? Start now.”

He laughed. “King Alaric would demand my head if I did that. He’s old-fashioned about certain things. Especially his daughter’s virginity.”

“Alaric.” Alejandro had heard the name. It took a second to realize where. “You’re marrying a princess from Aliestle?”

“Not a princess. The princess.” Enrique sounded excited. No wonder. Aliestle was a small kingdom in the Alps. With an abundance of natural resources, the country’s treasury was vast, a hundred times that of La Isla de la Aurora. “King Alaric has four sons and one daughter.”

“Father must be pleased.”

“He’s giddy over the amount of Julianna’s dowry and the economic advantages aligning with Aliestle will bring us. Fortunately for me, the princess is as beautiful as she is rich. A bit of an ice princess from what I hear, but I’ll warm her up.”

“If you need lessons—”

“I may not have your reputation with the ladies, but I shall manage fine on my own.”

“I hope the two of you are happy together.” Alejandro meant the words. A happy union would mean more heirs. The further Alejandro dropped in the line of succession, the better. He couldn’t wait to be able to focus his attention on building his business and attracting more investors to turn the island’s sluggish economy around.

“You are to be the best man.”

A statement of fact or a request? “Mingling with aristocracy is hazardous to my health.”

“You will move home until the wedding.”

A demand. Anger flared. “Enrique—”

“The royal family will show a united front during the engagement period. Your days will be free unless official events are scheduled. You’ll be expected to attend all dinners and evening functions. You must also be present when the princess and her party arrive today.”

Alejandro cursed. “You sound exactly like him.”

“They are Father’s words, not mine.” Rare compassion filled Enrique’s eyes. “But I would like you to be my best man. You’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.”

Enrique laughed. “All the more reason for you to stand at my side. Father will compensate you for any inconvenience.”

Alejandro’s entire life was a damn inconvenience. Besides, he would never be able to get the one thing he wanted from his father. “I don’t want his money.”

“You never have, but when Father offers you payment, take it. You can put the money into your boats, buy another villa, donate it to charity or give it away on the streets,” Enrique advised. “You’ve earned this, Alejandro. Don’t let pride get in the way again.”

He wasn’t about to go there. “All I want is to be left alone.”

“As soon as Julianna and I have children, you will no longer be needed around here. If you do your part to ensure the wedding occurs, Father has promised to let you live your own life.”

Finally. “Did you ask for this or did Father offer?”

“It was a combination, but be assured of Father keeping his word.”

“When am I to move back?”

“After lunch.”

Alejandro cursed again. He had a boatyard to run, investment properties to oversee and the Med Cup to prepare for. Not to mention the kitten who expected to be fed. “I have a life. Responsibilities.”

“You have responsibilities here. Ones you ignore while you play with your boats,” Enrique chided.

Seething, Alejandro tried to keep his tone even. “I’m not playing. I’m working. If you’d see the upcoming Med Cup race as an opportunity to promote—”

“If you want to build the island’s reputation, then support this royal wedding. It’ll do much more for the economy than your expensive ideas to improve the island’s nightlife, build flashy resorts and attract the sailing crowd with a little regatta.”

“The Med Cup is a big deal. It’ll—”

“Whatever.” Enrique brushed Alejandro aside as if he were a bothersome gnat. Like father, like son. “Do what you must to be here after lunch or Father will send you away on a diplomatic mission.”

The words were like a punch to Alejandro’s solar plexus. Not unexpected given the way his father and brother operated sometimes. The threat would be carried out, too. That meant Alejandro had to do as told to secure his future. His freedom.

“I’ll be back before your princess arrives.”

But he would be doing a few things his way.

Once the black sheep, always the black sheep.

And let’s face it, Alejandro didn’t mind the title at all.

A helicopter whisked Jules over the clear, blue Mediterranean Sea. The luxurious cabin with large, leather seats comfortably fit the four of them: her, Brandt, Yvette her maid and Klaus their bodyguard. But even with soundproofing, each wore headsets to communicate and protect their ears from the noise of the rotors.

Almost there.

A combination of excitement and nerves made Jules want to tap her toes and twist the ends of her hair with her finger. She kept her hands clasped on her lap instead. She wanted to make her family and country proud. Her mother, God rest her soul, too. Presenting the image of a princess completely in control was important, even if doing so wasn’t always easy.

She glanced out the window. Below, on the water, a Sun Fast 3200 with a colorful spinnaker caught her eye. She pressed her forehead against the window to get a better look at the sailboat.

Gorgeous.

The crew sat on the rail, their legs dangling over the side. The hull planed across the waves.

Longing made it difficult to breath.

What she wouldn’t give to be on that boat sailing away from the island instead of flying toward the stranger who would be her husband and the father of her children … But she shouldn’t wish that. Jules had a responsibility, a duty, the same that had been thrust upon her mother so many years ago. Marrying Prince Enrique had to be better than being stuck in patriarchal Aliestle for the rest of her life. At least, she hoped so. If not …

Jules grimaced.

“You okay?” Brandt’s voice asked through her headset.

She shrugged. “I think I’m cursed. When my godparents offered gifts at my christening, one of them must have cursed me to a life of duty with no reward. A loveless arranged marriage.”

And an unfulfilled yearning for adventure and freedom.

“Look out the window,” Brandt said. “You’re not cursed, Jules. You’re going to be living on a vacation paradise.”

Crescents of postcard-worthy white sand beaches came into view. Palm trees seemed to stand at attention, except for the few arching toward the ground. The beach gave way to a town. Pastel-colored, tiled roofed buildings and narrow streets dotted the hillsides above the village center.

She glimpsed rows of sailboats moored at a marina. The masts, tall and shiny, rocked starboard and port like metronomes. Her mouth went dry.

Perhaps cursed was the wrong word. All these sailboats had to be a good sign, right? “Maybe life will be different here.”

“It will.” Brandt smiled, the same charming smile she’d seen on a cover of a tabloid at the airport in Spain. “Your fiancé will be unable to resist your beauty and intelligence. He’ll fall head over heels in love with you and allow you to do whatever you wish. Including sailing on the ocean.”

She wiggled her toes in anticipation. “I hope that’s true.”

“Believe,” he encouraged. “That’s what you always tell me.”

Yes, she did. But this situation was different. Jules knew nothing about Prince Enrique. She’d been so busy preparing for her departure she hadn’t had time to look him up on the internet. Not that she had a choice in marrying him even if he turned out to be an ogre.

For all she knew he was old with one foot in the grave. Okay, now she was overreacting. Her father had always matched her with younger men because he wanted grandchildren. This match shouldn’t be any different.

Jules hoped Enrique was charming, handsome and would sweep her off her feet. She wanted to find him attractive and be able to love him. She also wanted his heart to be free and open to loving her in return.

Her concern ratcheted. Prince Richard and Prince Niko had been in love with other women. If Enrique’s affections were attached to a girlfriend or mistress that wouldn’t bode well for their match reaching the altar or, if it did, love developing between them.

Jules shifted in her seat. “I do hope this island has up-to-date ideas about women.”

“It has to be more contemporary. Aliestle has been asleep since the Middle Ages.” Brandt cupped one side of his headset with his hand. “Listen, I hear Father snoring now. The tyrant could wake the dead.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Jules’s mouth. “Too bad we can’t wake him.”

“Along with the entire Council of Elders.”

Nodding, she stared at her brother who was more known as a playboy crown prince than a burgeoning politician and ruler. “When you’re king, you’ll change the way things are done.”

Brandt shrugged. “Being king will be too much work.”

“You’ll rise to the occasion,” she encouraged.

He gave her a look. “You really think so?”

“Yes.” Her gaze locked with his, willing him to remember their previous discussions and their plan. Okay, her plan. “You will bring our country into the twenty-first century. If not for our younger brothers and subjects, then for your children and theirs. Especially the daughters.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. And I’ll help.” The bane of his existence was being crown prince. Brandt wanted all the perks that went with being royalty without any of the responsibility. One of these days he was going to have to grow up. “Once I marry someone outside of Aliestle, Father’s reign over me ends. I’ll be able to represent our country to the world and gain support to help you enact reforms when you are king, even if the Council of Elders is against them. We must change Aliestle for the better, Brandt.”

He didn’t say anything. She didn’t expect him to.

“We are approaching the palace,” the pilot announced over the headsets.

Goose bumps prickled Jules’s skin.

Full of curiosity at her new home, she peered out the window. A huge white stucco and orange-tile roofed palace perched above the sea. The multistoried building had numerous balconies and windows.

But no tower. Another good sign?

A paved road and narrower walking paths wove their way through a landscape of palm trees, flowering bushes and manicured greenery. Water shot at least twenty-five feet into the air from an ornately decorated fountain.

The Mediterranean island and palace were a world away from Aliestle and the stone castle fortress nestled high in the Alps. Living somewhere lighter and brighter would be a welcome change from the Grimm-like fairy-tale setting she called home.

“Father may have finally gotten this right,” Brandt said.

Jules nodded. “It’s pretty.”

“At least on the outside.”

She sighed. “Don’t forget, dear brother, you’re here for moral support.”

“And to make sure the honeymoon doesn’t start early,” Brandt joked.

As if she’d ever had that opportunity present itself. She glared at him. “Be quiet.”

“Sore spot, huh?”

He had no idea. Engaged three times, and she’d never come close to anything other than kisses. Besides making out with Christian while a teenager, she’d been kissed once as an adult. Prince Niko’s kiss while sailing had been pleasant enough, but nothing like the passion she’d overheard other women discussing. Perhaps with Prince Enrique …

The helicopter landed on a helipad. The engine stopped. The rotor’s rotation slowed. Her hand trembled, making her work harder to unbuckle her harness. Finally she undid the latch. As they exited, a uniformed staff member placed their luggage onto a wheeled cart.

“Welcome to La Isla de la Aurora, Your Royal Highness Crown Prince Brandt and Your Royal Highness Princess Julianna.” An older man in a gray suit bowed. “I am Ortiz. Prince Enrique sends his regrets for not meeting you himself, but he is attending to important state business at the moment.”

“We understand.” Brandt smiled. He might not be the typical statesman, but no one could fault his friendliness. “State business comes first.”

Jules looked around at the potted plants and flowering vines. A floral scent lingered in the air. Paradise? Perhaps.

“Thank you, sir.” Ortiz sounded grateful. “I am in charge of the palace and at your service. Whatever you need, I’ll see that you have it.”

Jules glanced at Brandt, whose grin resembled the Cheshire cat’s. She would have to make sure he didn’t take advantage of the generous offer of hospitality.

“The palace grounds are lovely, Ortiz,” she said. “Very inviting with so many colorful flowers and plants.”

“I am happy you like it, ma’am.” His smile took years off his tanned, lined face. “Please allow me to show you and your party inside.”

Klaus nodded. Her bodyguard, in his fifties with a crew cut and a gun hidden under his tailored suit jacket, had protected her for as long as she could remember.

“Lead the way, Ortiz,” she said.

As they walked from the helipad to the front door, Ortiz gave her a brief history lesson about the palace. She had no idea the royal family had ruled the island for so long. No doubt the continuous line of succession had impressed her father who would want to ensure a long reign for his grandchildren and the heirs that followed.

“Prince Enrique has done so much for the island,” Ortiz said. “A finer successor to King Dario cannot be found, ma’am.”

If only Jules knew whether the compliments were truthful or propaganda. She knew little about her future husband besides his name. “I’m looking forward to meeting Prince Enrique.”

Ortiz beamed. “He said the same thing about you at lunch-time, ma’am.”

A third good sign? Jules hoped so.

When they reached the palace entry, two arched wooden doors parted as if by magic. Once the heavy doors were fully open, she saw two uniformed attendants standing behind and holding them.

Jules stared at the entrance with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. If all went well—and she hoped it did—this palace would be her new home. She would live with her husband and raise her children here. She fought the urge to cross her fingers.

With a deep breath, she stepped inside. The others followed.

A thirty-foot ceiling gave the large marble tiled foyer an open and airy feel. Stunning paintings, a mix of modern and classical works, hung on the walls. A marble statue of a woman sitting in the middle captured Jules’s attention. “What an amazing sculpture.”

“That is Eos, one of the Greek’s second generation Titan gods,” Ortiz explained. “We are more partial to the Latin name, Aurora. Whichever name you prefer, she’ll always be the Goddess of the Dawn.”

“Beautiful,” Brandt agreed. “Eos had a strong desire for handsome young men. If she looked anything like this statue, I’m sure she had no trouble finding willing lovers.”

“Close the front doors,” a male voice shouted. “Now.”

The attendants pushed the heavy doors. Grunts sounded. Muscles strained.

“Hurry,” the voice urged.

The people behind Jules rushed farther into the foyer so the doors could be shut. The momentum pushed her forward.

A shirtless man wearing shorts ran toward the doors. Something black darted across the floor.

Yvette screamed. “A rat, Your Highnesses.”

“There are no rats in the palace,” Ortiz shouted.

The ball of black fur darted between Jules’s legs. Startled, she stumbled face-first.

“Catch her,” Klaus yelled.

Too late. The marble floor seemed to rise up to meet Jules though she was the one falling.

She stopped abruptly. Not against the floor.

Strong arms embraced Jules. Her face pressed against a hard, bare chest. Her cheek rested against warm skin. Dark hair tickled her nose. The sound of a heartbeat filled her ears. He smelled so good. No fancy colognes. Only soap and water and salty ocean air.

She wanted another sniff.

Ortiz shrieked. “Your Highnesses. Are either of you hurt?”

Highnesses? The man must be a prince. Her father had only spoken of the crown prince. No other brothers had been mentioned. Oh, if this were Enrique …