Tall, Dark & Royal

“Socks,” he muttered. “They may not make the kind of fashion statement you usually make, but you’ll be more comfortable.” He narrowed his eyes.

“Come to think of it, you’re not going to want to go back to your hotel with bare legs. I’ll get you a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt.”

Erin felt a rush of panic. Wearing His Majesty’s clothes? How had this situation gotten so totally beyond her control? “Thank you very much, sir, but it’s truly not necessary.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “It’s January in Chicago. No one in their right mind faces the elements with bare skin,” he said, then his eyes glinted with masculine intensity. “Although it’s a damn shame to cover legs as nice as yours with sweatpants.”

Erin’s heart skipped over itself, and a rush of emotions swam through her. How was she supposed to accomplish her job, maintain appropriate distance and, as her father had requested, subtly discourage Daniel from accepting the throne, when Daniel was clearly determined to treat her as a human being more than as a protocol instructor? How, in heaven’s name, was she supposed to maintain her equilibrium when this man emanated enough electrical energy to burn her to a crisp?

Two

As Erin sat on Daniel’s couch, it occurred to her that it was tough to remain proper and starchy when she was wearing a sweat suit that swallowed her. She stiffened her back. “I brought several books for your reference, sir,” she said. “This one is the most complete. I have another on royal etiquette, and I brought a book with pictures of the military uniforms you’ll wear for a variety of occasions. Some people absorb information more easily if it’s introduced in a visual manner.”

Daniel thumbed through one of the books and gave her a considering glance. “You thought I might need a picture book?”

Oops. She hoped she hadn’t insulted his intelligence. “With all the information you’re being given, sir, I thought it might be easier if some of it weren’t delivered to you in such a dry manner.”

One side of his lips lifted in a half grin. “I’m curious what you’ve been told about me.”

Erin sifted through half a dozen things her father had told her that couldn’t be repeated. “I know you’re thirty-four years old and you are Vice President of Marketing for the Connelly Corporation, sir. I’ve been told you attended college with a football scholarship and you’re as American as—” She searched her brain for the correct term. “As popcorn,” she said. “Or is it pie?”

He flashed his teeth in a grin. “Both will do.”

“The most important thing, sir, is that you are the eldest son of Princess Emma, which makes you the natural heir to the Altarian throne. And you are consenting to relinquish your life as an American to serve as King of Altaria.”

He nodded. “Just to fill in a couple of blanks, I graduated from Northwestern with degrees in Business Administration and Philosophy. Do you have a laptop at your hotel?”

She nodded, wondering where this was leading.

He gave a careless shrug. “If you’re interested, Northwestern has an informative Web site.”

Erin had the uncomfortable feeling that there were quite a few gaps in the profile of Daniel she’d received. “I’ll do that, sir.”

Daniel glanced back at the book. “Let me get this straight. Part of my job is to appear at various events in these military uniforms.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Traditional decorum provides a certain security for the people.”

“Okay. Will there be someone at the palace who will be knowledgeable about what uniform I wear when?”

“Of course, sir. You will have at least two royal dressers at your service.”

“In that case, I could safely delegate the task of whether I wear red or blue to one of the royal dressers, right?”

“I suppose, sir. I thought that since there will be a significant difference in your attire, you would prefer to be informed.”

Daniel shut the book with a smile. “As long as nobody puts me in a pink tutu, I really don’t give a damn.” He laced his fingers together and leaned toward her. “I’d really rather know more about the people of Altaria.”

Erin blinked. This definitely wasn’t going as planned. Her father had instructed her that if she couldn’t discourage Daniel from accepting the throne, then she needed to convince him that the position of king was more decoration than substance. “The people of Altaria, sir?”

“Yes. You’re Altarian. How would you describe your people?”

“Warm and caring, sir,” she said, thinking of the island people who provided services to tourists and fresh fruit and vegetables. “They’re very family-oriented. Because of the isolation of the island, they’re not especially sophisticated in terms of higher education.”

“Why not?” he prompted.

“We have no schools of higher learning on the island, sir.”

“Why not?”

“There never have been. Anyone who wants to send their children to school sends them to the continent.”

Daniel frowned. “So if someone was motivated and intelligent, but their family didn’t have the means to send them to a university in Europe, then they wouldn’t get to go at all?”

She nodded. “Correct, sir. Such a person would likely continue to do whatever his or her father or mother did.”

“And what is the parliament’s stand on this?”

“The parliament is slow to change without considerable provocation.”

He frowned again as if he didn’t like her answer. “What do you think the people of Altaria want in a king?”

She felt a distressing tug in opposite directions. Part of her was drawn to Daniel’s sincere interest in her people, while at the same time she couldn’t forget her father’s wishes. Erin found she could only answer him honestly. “Sir, I believe the citizens of Altaria want a king who will provide a bridge from the past to the future. Even Americans understand that tradition can be a source of comfort in times of grief. Altaria takes great pride in the unbroken line of succession the Rosemeres have provided. Altarians want a ruler who appreciates where they have been and where they need to go.”

Daniel nodded slowly. “I guess that means I need to bone up on Altarian history. You said you were familiar with the political climate. How does the parliament feel about an American taking the throne?”

Her stomach tightened, and she glanced away. “The official stance is that the parliament is pleased there is a healthy heir ready and willing to take the throne, sir. Many were surprised that you would agree to give up your privacy and freedom to accept the job.”

Daniel sighed and stood. He moved toward the huge picture window and glanced out. “I don’t believe in shirking family duty. My parents drilled into all of us that we have responsibilities to fulfill. I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror if I didn’t fulfill mine, but—” He broke off and glanced at her. “But I’ve always felt I was biding my time at Connelly Corporation. God knows, I wouldn’t have chosen to be king, but it appears the job has chosen me.” He turned to meet her eyes, and she felt the intensity in his gaze clear down to her toes. “I’m a Connelly. I can’t do less than my best.”

His words vibrated between them, and Erin began to sense that there was far more to Daniel Connelly than she or her father could have imagined.

His green gaze shifted like the Chicago wind as he moved toward her. “You’ve told me the official position of the parliament. What’s the unofficial stance?”

Erin’s mind locked in panic. She needed to obey her father and follow his wishes, but… She tried to find a way to protect her father without undermining her own sense of integrity. “Unofficially and officially, the parliament embraces tradition and is very slow to change, sir.”

“A nice way of saying I probably make them nervous,” he said.

“I didn’t say that, sir,” she protested.

“You didn’t have to.” He cocked his head to one side. “I make you nervous, too.”

Confounded was a more accurate description, she thought. “No, sir. Of course not,” she said, but felt she wasn’t exactly telling the truth.

“Not at all?” he asked, sitting down on the couch next to her.

Her stomach fluttered nervously at his closeness. “Well, perhaps a little, sir. You’re not exactly what I expected.”

“How am I different?” he asked, his gaze so intense she wondered if he could see straight through her.