Читать книгу Twice a Princess - SUSAN MEIER, Susan Meier - Страница 7

Nearly purring with joy over making her twenty-first love match, Princess Meredith Montrosa Bessart, known to the guests of La Torchere Resort as Merry Montrose, stood on the sidelines of the dance floor at the wedding reception of Cynthia Rawlings and Rick Barnett. Resplendent in his black tux, typically dark and brooding Rick gazed down at his beautiful blond bride as they glided along the dance floor, Cynthia’s satin gown floating around them.

They looked like Cinderella and her prince, which to Merry was ironic considering that she was the real princess on Torchere Key, though a curse had changed her from a young, beautiful royal into a crone. Even dressed in her pretty blue gown, with her gray hair swept into a twist and wearing the diamond earrings and necklace—part of the collection of jewels belonging to Silestia’s royal family that she’d been allowed to keep to remind her of home—she didn’t look anything like a princess.

“Not dancing, Merry?”

The smooth baritone voice of Alexander Rochelle, owner of southwest Florida’s La Torchere Resort and Spa, flowed over Merry from behind. Tingling with awareness, she took a second to compose herself before she turned around to face him.

Dressed in his black tux, his blond hair casually styled in sexy disarray and his blue eyes dancing, Alexander was so gorgeous, so tantalizing, that the breath in Merry’s lungs disappeared, her chest tightened and her knees weakened. But the first fifteen seconds in Alexander’s company were always like this. Not just because he was gorgeous, but because he had an air of excitement, power and sensuality about him that Merry hadn’t seen matched. Not even in the court of Silestia, where her father was king.

He’d even had that air when he’d posed as a handyman.

“As resort manager I don’t dance,” she said slowly, forcing herself not to flirt with him. As a homely crone she would look ridiculous flirting with a handsome man. Though she had to admit that when she believed he was just a handyman, she had wanted to do more than flirt. He’d disguised himself to discover the secret of the resort’s recent love matches, but he soon revealed himself as the resort’s owner, first to her privately and then at a staff meeting. That same morning, he moved from a cramped employee efficiency apartment into the best villa on resort grounds, and he had been on La Torchere ever since, not really watching over her shoulder, but a hands-on owner to be sure. So, any thought she had of flirting had long ago died.

Still, that didn’t mean she couldn’t smile. Maybe even joke a little. “But if I did break protocol and dance at a guest’s wedding, I certainly wouldn’t do it in front of the boss.”

Alexander laughed. Again, the smooth sound of his voice seemed to pour through Merry, touching her when she didn’t want to be touched—

Well, that wasn’t precisely true. She’d like nothing better than to be touched by this man. Tall and broad shouldered, with a deep and masculine voice that reminded her of dark liaisons and whispered secrets, Alexander Rochelle was so physically male that Merry couldn’t imagine anything more feminine than being his lover. Just once in her life, she yearned to experience romance as intense, as perfect, as she was sure it would be with this man.

But she couldn’t. Rick and Cynthia’s marriage made their commitment official, finalizing the twenty-one matches that would break Merry’s curse. She didn’t know what would happen next. Literally! Right now, she stood before Alexander as a twenty-nine-year-old princess in a crone’s body, but any minute now her physical appearance, regal bearing and comportment could be restored. Then Alexander Rochelle might be attracted to her, but it was her duty to return to Silestia to marry Prince Alec Montclair, the man to whom she had been promised.

That was one of the lessons she had learned during this curse. To respect and appreciate her life—including her duties. As a member of a royal family she had responsibilities. She was a leader, a ruler and one of the guards of the benevolent magic passed down through her lineage. She could be a tyrannical monarch—but because being a crone for seven years had shown her that being born a princess was a gift, not a curse—she had decided to fulfill her lot in life with joy.

And her lot in life was to marry Prince Alec.

“What if your boss—the actual owner of the resort for which you work—told you it was okay to dance?”

“Then I’d probably dance, but no one’s asked me.”

Alexander set his champagne glass on a convenient table and bowed elegantly before extending his hand to her. “Then allow me to ask you.”

Tingles of attraction tiptoed through Merry, tempting her to place her fingers on his open palm and satisfy at least a little of her longing, and she gulped.

Being put under a curse and becoming old and haggard had been confusing, and it had taken her two years to adjust. Getting twenty-one couples together had been the struggle of a lifetime. The last five matches had been darned near impossible! She didn’t want to blow her success because she was in lust.

Of course, who was to say dancing with Alexander would wreck her success? There was no way it could affect the twenty-one matches she had in place. Even if she tripped over his feet or drooled on his jacket, she couldn’t embarrass herself because she hadn’t yet transformed into Princess Meredith. No one at this resort even knew Princess Meredith existed. They knew Merry Montrose, resort manager, wrinkled-up old prune who looked about ten years past retirement, not three weeks away from her thirtieth birthday!

Damn it! It wouldn’t hurt anything to dance with Alexander, and certainly after seven long years of torture she deserved one tiny morsel of womanly joy.

Of course she did!

“I’d love to.”

She placed her white-gloved fingers on Alexander’s palm. Through the lace she could feel his warmth, his power. Pleasant shivers of excitement skipped up her arm. But when he slid his hand to the small of her back and nudged her as close to him as propriety allowed for a dance with an elderly woman, the shivers turned into a torrent of arousal. A very unacceptable torrent of arousal! After seven years of deprivation, being this close to a strong, sensual man nearly overwhelmed her. Heat shot through her and Merry honestly worried that she would faint.

“You’ve done a wonderful job with the resort.”

Conversation! Thank God! She needed anything to get her mind away from the strength she could feel in his shoulders, the scent of his aftershave, the sensuality in his watchful eyes.

“Thank you.”

“The fact that so many love matches seem to originate here hasn’t hurt publicity.”

Merry gulped again. “Thanks. I think.”

He laughed. “Thanks is the appropriate response. I was definitely complimenting you. La Torchere Resort is getting a reputation better than the fountain of youth. We’re the fountain of love. If our number of guests continues to rise, we may have to add another wing to the hotel.”

Merry held back a grimace. This time tomorrow she would be on her way home. The matchmaking would stop. The fountain of love wouldn’t necessarily dry up, but it would surely slow down. “Don’t send the project out to an architect yet.”

“Why? Do you know something I don’t know?”

“No,” Merry hastily replied, probably too hastily, because he gazed down at her and Merry forgot everything but the latent fires of sensuality in his blue eyes. Standing so close, feeling his power as he effortlessly guided them around the dance floor, she was caught again in a yarn of yearning. What would it be like to kiss this man? To have him touch her and want her….

“I think you do know something I don’t know.”

Jarred out of her thoughts, Merry said, “No.” She paused to give him a reassuring smile and to remind herself that right at this moment she was a crone whom a man like Alexander wouldn’t want on a lost bet. Also, with the curse broken, she would return to her true self, and as her true self she was promised to someone else. She had to stop fantasizing. “I don’t.”

“Okay.” He smiled at her.

Merry’s knees weakened again, and this time she couldn’t seem to force them back to full strength. As she and Alexander floated along the dance floor, the lithe movements of his body brushing hers conjured all kinds of blissfully sensual images that would dissolve any woman. But Merry also remembered that with her curse broken she was probably experiencing the longings of a young woman because she was returning to her normal self. She didn’t know how this curse worked, but there was a very real possibility that the blink of an eye could take her from crone to princess.

The blink of an eye?

Merry’s heart bumped against her ribs. She really could zap back into a princess in the blink of an eye. After all, she’d become a crone in the time it took for her godmother to chant a few words. It wasn’t impossible that she could suddenly find herself a princess in a crone’s gown, having to explain the change to the man currently swirling her around the dance floor.

She had to get the heck away from Alexander Rochelle!

She drew a quick breath. “Alexander, I’m sorry,” she said, bringing those soft blue eyes of his back to her again. “But I’m afraid I’m not feeling very well.”

His features sharpened. “You’re ill?”

His genuine concern touched a forgotten place in her heart. No one had cared about her for seven long years. But she wasn’t sick and he wouldn’t want to hear the real reason she needed to get away. So she fell back on her most obvious, and also most annoying, problem as a crone. “Maybe tired is a better word.”

“You do look flushed.”

Of course she did. Dancing with him had driven her to a state of excitement she hadn’t felt in nearly a decade. It was a wonder she wasn’t a puddle at his feet.

She smiled slowly, wearily, because acting was her ticket away from the temptation of his arms. “I’m simply tired. It’s been a stressful week.”

“Helping to plan a wedding hasn’t made it any easier.” Alexander stopped dancing, slid his arm from her waist and stepped back.

And Merry knew what Cinderella felt when she had to leave the ball. She could almost hear an imaginary clock striking midnight, as if announcing the end of something she wished could go on forever. But it couldn’t. She stifled a powerful urge to weep and pulled her gloved hand out of Alexander’s much larger one. As their fingers separated it seemed as if she were watching their destinies split, too. She belonged to someone else. They were not meant to be together.

Moving away from him, she sealed that fate. “Goodbye, Alexander.”

But Alexander shook his head as he led her off the dance floor. “Oh, no. You’re not walking to your quarters alone.”

“I’m fine,” Merry protested softly, though she knew she’d accept the assistance of whatever resort employee he pressed into service, if only to save an argument. She expected him to stop a passing waiter or to escort her to the bar where the bartender could ring the front desk. Instead he directed her to the ballroom entrance.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking you to your villa,” Alexander calmly replied.

“You can’t!” Panic skittered through her. Not only was she unbearably attracted to him and terrified she would make a fool of herself, but also she was changing. She was sure of it now. At any second she could zap back into a princess.

“I can.”

“Alexander…Mr. Rochelle. You can’t. You’re one of the guests of honor at the wedding!”

“The bride and groom are the guests of honor.” He guided her through the lobby, across the shiny green floor tiles, past the fountain that roared from a stone base to the skylight several stories above, to a glass double-door entrance in the back, which automatically opened.

When she didn’t immediately step outside, he caught her arm to keep her moving and the heat of his hand on her flesh triggered responses that thundered through her. Her heart rate jumped to triple time.

“This isn’t right!”

“This is fine.” He urged her onto the garden path.

Moonlight spilled into the courtyard. The leaves of the palm trees swayed in the light breeze off the gulf. The Oasis pool waterfall shimmered in the distance. The scene couldn’t have been more romantic if Merry had planned it herself, intensifying the continuing shivers of desire that trembled through her from his touch. Light-headed with fear, Merry picked up the pace.

When Merry Montrose began to walk faster, almost running to her cottage, Alexander Rochelle also quickened his steps. He wondered what she’d think if she realized she was being disrespectful to a monarch, then shoved that thought to the farthest corner of his brain. Being Prince Alec Rochelle Montclair wasn’t merely stifling. It was a royal pain in the butt.

That was why he liked the United States. The people paid attention to royalty but money talked louder than titles and rich movie stars were of more interest to them. After Alec’s betrothed, Princess Meredith Bessart, disappeared, he avoided the press by coming to the U.S., knowing that without money he really wasn’t that amusing. But he soon realized that in a country as progressive as this one, he could reverse his family’s financial misfortunes.

However, he also quickly saw that his business associates always assumed he had more money than he did because he was a prince, making deals difficult. So with a slight change of his first name and by dropping a few extra names he didn’t really need, he became a commoner, someone expected to negotiate like a pit bull, and he built an empire.

In those seven years, his appearance had also changed. He grew into his lanky frame, filled out, acquired a more mature demeanor and the stature of a man. People in his home country wouldn’t even recognize him now, but, unfortunately, his good looks and newly acquired wealth had made him fodder for the paparazzi again.

He had come to La Torchere to check out the rumors about the many weddings that had recently taken place at his resort and eventually he decided to hide here. Not because he owned it, but because places such as this catered to people who didn’t wish to be recognized or bothered. At La Torchere he had been comfortable, happy. And that was due in no small part to the woman beside him.

He stole a glance at Merry. She wasn’t the most pleasant-looking female on the face of the earth. He guessed her age to be somewhere around sixty, but she appeared much older. Her gray hair was coarse and usually kept in a tight knot. Her nose had elongated with the passage of time. Her neck had enough folds that the necklace she wore could easily disappear and never be discovered again. But she was also the most interesting woman he’d met in a long time. He suspected there was a very good story behind her life.

Alexander had begun paying attention to her when he realized La Torchere’s reputation as the fountain of love was due to Miss Merry’s matchmaking. Oh, she was subtle. But as resort owner, Alexander noticed everything, and he knew this kooky old woman was the bottom line to his resort’s most recent surge of success. He was even considering hiring an assistant for her to assure she could work for many more years.

“You should be back at the wedding reception.”

Alexander shook his head. The wedding reception was the last place he wanted to be. He didn’t like anything couched in pomp and circumstance. He’d had enough of it to last a lifetime when he was a child. His parents, a prince and princess of deposed monarchies in an arranged marriage, held ambassadorial roles that required them to represent their respective countries at so many functions that Alexander grew almost as tired of the pageantry as he did his parents’ continued fighting. He’d believed arranged marriages were an archaic tradition that should be abolished until his father privately negotiated a trade agreement with the U.S., which his mother backed up with promises from her country. Then Alexander saw the purpose of their marriage. Silently, almost stealthily, a good ambassador could change a country’s destiny.

With his current business acumen and knowledge of the United States, Alexander knew he probably didn’t need an arranged marriage to change his country’s destiny, but his betrothal to the princess from Silestia had opened trade routes he couldn’t have opened on shrewdness alone. And he knew his country needed his marriage.

So he would do his duty when the time came. If and when Princess Meredith Bessart, the woman promised to him, came out of hiding, he would marry her and fulfill his princely responsibilities. Until then, he intended to pack as much living into these years of freedom as he possibly could. That meant he didn’t go anywhere he didn’t want to go.

“The wedding bored me.” They reached the small stone path to her villa and Alexander directed her to turn, indicating that he would walk her to her door.

She sighed. “Really. I’m fine.”

“And I’m fine. I never pass up the opportunity to take a moonlight stroll with a beautiful woman.”

Merry laughed, but the sound came out as more of a cackle. Knowing she couldn’t see him, Alexander winced at the horrible sound. They reached the front door of her cottage and Merry stopped.

“I’m hardly a beautiful woman.”

“Oh, I’d take exception to that,” Alexander said, meaning it. He touched the spot where her heart beat beneath her thin gown and frail skin. “Here’s where you’re beautiful.”

To Alexander’s surprise, her eyes filled with tears and she blinked rapidly. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Alexander, get back to the party. Go find yourself a real beautiful woman because I think you’re losing it.”

He laughed. “Now that I’m sure you’re okay, I will return to the party, but I don’t need a beautiful woman.”

She clicked her tongue. “Every man needs a beautiful woman.”

From the look that came to her violet-blue eyes, he could see her matchmaker instincts kicking in. “Ah, ah, ah. It’s not appropriate to play matchmaker for the boss.”

Her cheeks reddened guiltily.

He laughed again. “Don’t be embarrassed! Your matchmaking is a gold mine for the resort. I’m simply not interested.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Not interested in me making you a match or not interested in any match at all?”

“Not interested in any match at all.”

“You don’t believe in love.” She said it simply but sadly, and he lifted her chin to force her to look at him.

“A long time ago, in a kingdom far away,” he began, speaking as if his life story were a fairy tale because he didn’t want Merry to feel sorry for him. Princess Meredith’s going into hiding had been a relief. The night of her coming-out ball, she had hurled insults that had devastated him, but they also taught him a good lesson. If and when he and Princess Meredith married, there would be no risk that he would lose his heart to her. He wanted to relate this tale so Merry saw the humor and the moral that he saw.

When she laughed her cackly giggle, Alexander knew she was on his wavelength and he continued, “I had a really bad experience.”

“Someone hurt you?”

“Very much. But I also learned there was no such thing as love when I was young enough to put the lesson to good use, and I’ve protected myself.” He paused, glancing at the thick, luscious foliage of the grounds before he added, “Placing your heart in someone’s hands only gives them the power to hurt you.”

“Really?” she asked softly, her voice so light and breathless, it sounded like the voice of a much younger woman. The change caused Prince Alec to look at her again but the moon had ducked behind a cloud and he really couldn’t see her face in the shadows.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Your philosophy is sad, and makes your life sound lonely.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. I might not believe in everlasting love, but I do wholeheartedly believe in romance.”

She sighed with disgust. “You mean sex.”

“No. I mean romance. Sweetheart notes. Flowers. Exciting trips. Carriage rides. Whispered secrets while tangled in satin sheets. Gifts. Stolen kisses.” He smiled at her. “Romance.”

Merry nearly swooned. Alexander Rochelle was adorable. Which made it doubly sad that his life was lonely. “You don’t mind that your relationships end? I mean, aren’t there problems?”

“Nothing that can’t be solved with an honest conversation. Plus, before I start anything with a woman, I’m very open about expectations.”

Confused because he didn’t sound sad, or lonely, or even slightly bothered by his life choice, Merry asked, “And you like it that way?”

“I love it that way! Merry, I’ve courted some of the most beautiful women in the world. I’m still friendly with most of them. Love doesn’t have to be difficult. A person simply needs to understand when it’s time to walk away.”

Gazing at his handsome face, partially shadowed in the moonlight, Merry swallowed. That was another lesson she had learned from seven years as a matchmaker. Not every attraction ended in love. But that didn’t make those liaisons wrong. People could enjoy a romantic short-term fling as long as both parties recognized when it was time to let go.

Given that circumstances in Alexander’s life had hurt him enough to preclude him from taking the final step, which was complete trust, Merry had to concede that this life might be right for him. Because of knowing how and when to let go, he was a well adjusted, brilliant, romantic—yet realistic—man, and Merry suddenly wished with all her heart that she could have one of those temporary but romantic love affairs with him.

Because that wasn’t a good idea for many, many reasons, she took a pace back. “You better return to the wedding.”

He smiled softly. “Not before I kiss you good-night.”

Merry’s mouth fell open and she was absolutely positive her heart stopped. He couldn’t want to kiss her! She was an obnoxious crone! Worse, her appearance could be changing even as they spoke. If he kissed her and realized she was young, how would she explain it?

She couldn’t let him kiss her! It was insane!

She stepped back again, but he caught her gloved hand and lifted her fingers to his lips.

“Thank you, Merry, for doing such a wonderful job at the resort. I hope you will be with us for many, many years to come.”

He let her fingers slide from his grip, turned and walked down the path again. A lone figure, bathed in moonlight, striding through the thick tropical foliage.

Tears filled Merry’s eyes. He seemed well adjusted. He even exuded an air of sophisticated control. Yet, there was also an incompleteness about him. He might not want or even need a permanent relationship, but he’d never had a great love, and he never would because he would never trust the way he should.

Whether Alexander understood it or not, he was under as much of a curse as she was.

Merry’s first thought when she woke the next morning was pure grief that she would never be romantic with Alexander Rochelle. She rubbed her eyes wearily, but she didn’t feel the loose skin of her aged hand shift across her eyelids as it normally did. Instead, smooth, solid flesh greeted her.

Remembering that the lifelong commitment of Rick and Cynthia broke her curse and that she had begun to feel the changes to her appearance the night before, Merry shot up in bed. She looked down at her hands and saw slim fingers and barely lined palms. She flipped them over to reveal tight-skinned knuckles.

She tossed aside the covers and virtually flew to the mirror.

Dear God! She was tall again, shapely again, unwrinkled, unbent, tight-skinned, supple-muscled, auburn-haired and…gorgeous!

She was Princess Meredith Montrosa Bessart!

She could go home!

She could call her father! He would undoubtedly send a plane for her that day, and tomorrow morning she would wake up in her own bed. She could contact Prince Alec….

And never see Alexander Rochelle again.

All her excitement faded and she drooped in front of the mirror as if she were still Merry Montrose. Damn it! Just when she had everything worked out, just when she had everything figured out, life threw the monkey wrench of Alexander Rochelle into the works.

She flopped onto her bed. Facing the glass double doors to the private patio of her villa, she saw the swaying palms of southwest Florida, and beyond the white sand, the blue waves of the Gulf, and her chest tightened.

Alexander.

The man simply made her heart hurt with longing. Prince Alec was her sworn duty, and never, ever would she consider shirking her responsibility. Never, ever would she make Alec feel that being his wife and partner was anything less than joy. She wanted to be Prince Alec’s wife. She wanted to fulfill her roles.

But Alexander made her yearn. He made her long for things she’d never felt and never would feel because Prince Alec was not a love match. Though she was sure she would grow to love Alec, she didn’t know if she would ever have romantic feelings for him, and because of the betrothal promise, he was her match for eternity.

She rose to pace. Eternity was a long time. She didn’t want to spend eternity, or even the rest of her life, regretting that she’d never known romantic love. From observing the couples she had matched, she was also now wise enough to see that a person had to be ready for the love of honor, duty, responsibility and maturity. Her couples were lucky in that they seemed to combine both romantic love and the love of honor, but princesses weren’t always that blessed. Her destiny wasn’t that of a normal woman. Though she had to admit it seemed odd that fate had thrown Alexander in her path right when it was time to commit.

She paused by her bed. It did seem odd.

She began to pace again. In her seven years as matchmaker, she’d seen the roles of fate and magic in each union, and if there was one thing she had learned it was that fate didn’t make mistakes or arrange anything without a purpose. Which meant Alexander had crossed her path at this precise point in her life for a reason.

A reason.

She paused again. Of course! It was so simple!

She was about to enter a life of duty and responsibility. And gladly. She wasn’t merely being a good sport about this. She was committing with her heart and soul. And fate was rewarding her.

Or maybe fate was preparing her? If she truly was forfeiting romantic love, maybe fate was preparing her by gifting her with one season of romantic love? Something to fulfill her girlhood fantasies so she would be ready for her adult responsibilities.

That had to be it. There couldn’t be any other explanation. Fate didn’t torture. It didn’t dangle something in front of a person to be cruel. Fate led, guided and rewarded.

Alexander Rochelle was her reward.

She had even wished for it the night before. When he walked her home and told her his theory of romance, she had wished to experience romance as intense as it would be with him.

She gasped when she realized fate had granted her plea, and her brain kicked into overdrive. To take advantage of this gift of fate, Merry had a lot of preparing to do. She was no longer the Merry the staff was expecting, but she was still the resort manager. She couldn’t leave La Torchere in a lurch. In fact, she could probably prevent the fountain of love from disappearing and the number of guests from dwindling by hiring a replacement whom she could train to subtly slide the right people together. All she had to do was say she was Merry Montrose’s niece and that her aunt had asked her to take over as resort manager for the time it took to find a replacement, so her aunt could retire.

It was so simple, so perfect, that Merry smiled. But her gaze collided with the cell phone on her bedside table and her smile turned to a look of confusion. As a crone, she’d used that magic cell phone to arrange everything from good weather to accidental meetings. She’d even had it repaired after a bout of frustration had left it in shambles.

Things would be a lot easier with Alexander Rochelle if…

No. It wouldn’t be fair to manipulate Alexander with magic….

That thought made her frown. Part of the reason it was a gift to be a Silestia royal was the magic she had at her disposal. And changing the weather to suit a picnic or arranging accidental meetings wasn’t the same as hypnotizing Alexander or dousing him with love potion number nine….

No. For some reason using her magic just didn’t seem right. In fact, she was so sure it was inappropriate that she walked to the bedside table intending to stash the cell phone so she wouldn’t be tempted, but the screen was blinking.

Don’t waste your time,

Looking for a helpful rhyme.

No curse, no phone.

If you want love, find it on your own.

Well, that settled that. She didn’t have access to the magic she’d been given as a crone, and she hadn’t been fully schooled in her family’s magic because she’d been a crone for most of the time she should have been at her father’s knee, learning her family’s legacy. But it didn’t matter. She’d never needed magic to entice a man before.

She tossed the cell phone into the drawer of the bedside table and eyed herself critically in the full-length mirror.

Her first order of business was getting some decent clothes so she could go to the front desk and announce she was Merry Montrose’s niece who was replacing her retiring aunt.

Her second was finding Alexander Rochelle and giving him the great romance of his life, becoming the woman he remembered forever.