A Prince At Last!

“When is the announcement going to be made about you being the true heir? How did the dowager queen and prime minister take the news? And…”

“One question at a time.” Luc placed a teasing finger over her lips, effectively silencing her questions while sending her heart into overdrive. His skin was warm against hers. She was suddenly assailed with the urge to draw his finger into her mouth, to taste his skin.

She leapt away as if burned, almost falling from the desk. What kind of wanton was she to have such thoughts? Especially about the future king! She should never have worn this camisole top. It gave a girl ideas, ideas that she was far sexier than she really was, far more confident.

“Something wrong?” Luc asked.

She frantically shook her head, her dark hair tumbling down into her eyes. A pencil wasn’t the best hairclip, but it’s what she usually used to wrap her hair up into a knot on top of her head, and she’d somehow misplaced all of hers, which wasn’t surprising. She often got so engrossed with her research that she lost track of things like pencils. So she’d had to leave her hair loose this morning.

“No, nothing.” She wanted to sit down, but now felt awkward doing so while he still stood. All of a sudden the realization that he was the king was overshadowing everything else. “Go on with what you were saying, please. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“I don’t care if you interrupt.”

“It isn’t polite.”

“Which brings me to my next topic.”

He still hadn’t answered her previous questions, but she wasn’t about to point that out now. Instead she tried to look properly attentive and respectful and not as if she secretly longed to kiss him.

“I want you to do a favor for me,” Luc said.

“I’ll do whatever I can.”

He smiled. “I was hoping you’d say that. Because I want you to give me royalty training.”

She stared at him blankly. “Excuse me?”

“I want you to teach me all the kingly things I’ll need to know.”

When she just blinked owlishly at him, he put it another way. “I’d like you to tutor me on protocol, customs and traditions of the royal family.”

“I’m sure the protocol minister would be glad to help…”

Luc cut off her words. “No way am I going to that toady fellow. I dealt with him when I first arrived at the palace and he had the effrontery to tell me not to chew gum in front of the king. What are you smiling at?”

“Your use of the word effrontery. A very regal term.”

“I don’t feel regal,” he confessed. “It feels so strange to think of King Philippe as my…father.”

“I imagine it does. I know none of this has been easy for you.”

“And it’s not going to get any easier. Which is why I need you to help me quickly learn my way about. You and no one else.”

If only that were true. If only he did need her, as a woman rather than as a friend. And if only he wasn’t the future king. And if only she were more beautiful and confident. And had bigger breasts. Hey, since she was making wishes here, she might as well wish for the entire package.

“So what do you say?” Luc asked.

“I’m honored that you’d ask me, but I truly don’t feel I’m the best person for this job.”

“I feel you are.”

“There, you’re already sounding like a king. You don’t need me.”

“You’re doing it again,” he warned her.

“Doing what?”

“Going all strange on me. All distant.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve offended you.”

“Oh please.” He rolled his eyes at her. “You used to take great joy in offending me.”

“I did not!” she vehemently denied. “Name one time when I did that.”

“When I told you that men made better leaders than women and you said I was sounding like a chauvinist pig.”

“Well, you were. But that was before…”

“I want the two of us to remain as we were before.”

Which was part of the problem. He was happy with them just being friends as they’d been before, whereas she wanted so much more. And now those hopes were futile. As king, Luc had to marry someone worthy, someone who had the confidence and polish of the royal princesses, not an ugly duckling like herself. And she knew herself well enough to know that the more time she spent with Luc, the more intense her emotions for him were likely to get. Not a smart thing. And if nothing else, she was a smart woman.

“Come on, Juliet, I can’t do this without you.”

He could, of course. She knew he could. But it was impossible for her to turn away from the look of teasing pleading in his intense blue eyes. She doubted there were many women on the entire planet who could turn Luc down when he gave them that look—no matter what he wanted.

“Protocol and traditions, right?” she said briskly.

“Right. Piece of cake, right?”

“Speaking of cake, I think we’ll begin with royal meals and formal state dinners.” She kept her voice coolly efficient. If she was going to be coerced into doing this, she was going to do it her way.

“That sounds fine. There’s just one thing. I don’t want anyone knowing you’re giving me these lessons.”

“Why?” Was he ashamed of being seen with her? The thought stung like a cruel barb.

“Why? Because I don’t want anyone else knowing yet about my being the future king,” he explained. “Not until the corroborating documentation comes in. I figure we have about a week to ten days before that happens.”

“So you’re not telling Celeste that you’re the king until then?”

“That’s right. I thought you and I could get together later at night, after everyone else in the palace has gone to bed,” Luc suggested. “Would that work for you?”

Work for her? None of this worked for her. Not one single thing. Not him thinking of her as a friend, not him being king, certainly not her spending more time alone with him. But there was no changing reality. And the reality was that she had to help him. “That will be fine.” She could only hope that stating it so confidently would make it so.

Bond. Juliet Bond. That’s how she felt. As if she were participating in some sort of covert operation.

She was even wearing the appropriate clothing—black, so she wouldn’t be seen in the palace’s shadowy hallways. King Philippe had ordered a reduction in the electricity used within the palace, and had replaced the light bulbs with low-wattage models that wouldn’t need replacing for a decade.