Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince

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—”