Not-So-Perfect Princess: Not-So-Perfect Princess

Except tonight.

Crossing the line had become second nature to him growing up. Alejandro didn’t do it as often now. Still he didn’t care what anyone thought about him. The lovely princess did care. The way she dressed, spoke and acted made it clear. She might feel the need to rebel in this one-time act of defiance. A brief escape from an impending arranged marriage and a curtailed freedom. But he didn’t want Julianna to have any regrets over what they were going to do.

“Are you certain you want to go against your father and sail tonight?” Alejandro whispered.

“Most definitely.

“You may regret—”

“I’ll regret not doing so more,” she interrupted. “This is the right thing to do. Even if I’m caught.”

Julianna was saying the right words. Alejandro hoped she meant them. Because if she got caught, the price she would pay might be higher than either of them imagined.

That evening, the hands on the clock in the dining room moved slower than the Council of Elders. King Dario sat at the head of the table. His two sons sat on his left with Jules and Brandt on the king’s right.

She tapped her foot, impatient the meal was taking so long. Servers scurried about with wine bottles and platters. She wanted dinner to end so she could excuse herself and prepare for the sail with Alejandro.

He sat across the table from her. No tuxedo, but a designer suit and dress shirt sans tie. He looked more like a CEO than a boatbuilder. Well, except for his hair. The dark ends brushed his shoulders. She preferred his casual, carefree style to Enrique’s short, conservative cut.

She kept hoping Alejandro would say something to turn the dinner conversation away from the upcoming royal wedding and onto something more interesting.

He didn’t. He barely spoke or glanced her way.

No doubt trying to keep anyone from guessing about the rendezvous later. Jules suppressed the urge to smile about her impending adventure.

King Dario yawned. “I’m going to skip having a brandy.”

Alejandro straightened. “Are you feeling okay, Father?”

The king waved off his son’s genuine concern. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Dealing with the demands of the island takes a lot out of a person.” Enrique narrowed his gaze as he spoke to Alejandro. “Something you would know little about, brother.”

Jules waited for Alejandro to fire back a smart-assed comment. He took a sip of wine instead. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. His dark eyes revealed nothing of his thoughts. “Sleep well, Father.”

With that, King Dario departed.

Silence filled the dining room. The servers seemed to have vanished along with the king. Jules counted to one hundred by tens in Japanese. When could she say good-night without drawing suspicions to herself?

“I have work to attend to.” Enrique scooted his chair away from the table. “If you do not mind,” he said to her as if an afterthought.

Perfect! Her entire body felt as if it were smiling. “I don’t mind.”

“I was planning to hit the clubs,” Brandt said with eager anticipation in his voice.

Yes! She couldn’t have arranged this any better if she’d planned it. “Take Klaus with you.”

Brandt rolled his eyes.

“Listen to your sister,” Alejandro suggested. “You’ll be thankful you have a bodyguard should things get out of hand.”

“My brother knows the island’s club scene intimately.” Derision dripped from each of Enrique’s word. “He’s often at the center of the melees.”

Jules didn’t like his tone. She often gave her four brothers a hard time and teased them, like any big sister, but she never spoke with such disrespect.

“Please, Brandt,” she said. “Father would never forgive me if something happened to you.”

“And vice versa.” Brandt directed a warm smile full of love her way. “I’ll have Klaus accompany me.”

Relieved, she smiled at him. “Thank you.”

Enrique remained seated in his chair, but he looked ready to bolt out any minute. She wished he’d go.

“What will you do tonight, Julianna?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” She forced herself not to look at Alejandro. “Read. Watch TV. I’ll find something to do.”

She wiggled her toes in anticipation of what she would actually be doing.

Enrique rose from the table. “Then I’ll bid you good-night and see you tomorrow.”

Jules watched him exit the dining room. The atmosphere seemed less stuffy with Enrique gone. Her uncharitable thought brought a stab of guilt. He was her future husband. She’d best accept him as he was.

Alejandro rose. “I’m going to say good-night, also.”

“Will I see you later?” Brandt asked.

“Not tonight,” Alejandro said. “I have a prior engagement.”

Yes, he did. She bit back a smile. In two hours and twenty-two minutes she would meet him at a private dock. The map, a headlamp and everything else she needed were sitting inside a duffel bag she’d found in her closet this afternoon.

“Blonde or brunette?” Brandt asked.

Alejandro laughed at the innuendo. “I wish I could say differently, but unfortunately it’s not that kind of … engagement.”

Jules tried to figure out what Alejandro meant. That he wished he were seeing a different woman or he wished he were meeting her under different circumstances? Not that he would or she could. But still …

“You can meet me at a club later,” Brandt said.

Alejandro glanced her way. “Maybe I will.”

“No.” The two men looked at her with surprised expressions.

Jules’s heart dropped to her feet. She hadn’t meant to say the word out loud. “I mean, do you know how long you’ll be, Alejandro? Brandt might not want to stick around one club waiting for you to show up.”

Brandt shook his head. “Stop being such a big sister, Jules. He can text me when he arrives.”

“Oh, right,” she said. “You know how often I go clubbing.”