Twice a Princess

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.

Chapter Two

After a shower, Merry ran to La Torchere’s boutique and purchased several outfits, which she instructed the staff to deliver to her villa. Then she scooted to the resort salon for a haircut, manicure and new makeup.

When she returned home, she found the three boxes from the boutique sitting on her bed and immediately shimmied into a formfitting teal suit. The color intensified the radiance of her auburn hair. Plus, the suit’s fitted jacket and flirty short skirt were sexy enough that when she met Alexander to introduce herself as the replacement for her “Aunt Merry” she would make the impression she wanted to make.

By the time she finally strode up the cobblestone walk to the main lobby of the hotel, it was nearly noon. Her sleek, shoulder-length auburn hair had been styled to curve seductively around her face. A hint of mascara on her long black lashes accented her violet-blue eyes. Her lips were moist and dewy with her favorite lip gloss, and her pink-tipped toes peeked out of sexy white sandals.

It felt so good to be her real self that Merry could have wept. She would never take her youth, beauty or very lucky lot in life for granted again.

She stepped up to the glass double door of the lobby and it automatically opened. The roar of the three-story fountain in the center greeted her. Warm, honey-hued wood furniture with plump teal-and-cream-colored cushions surrounded a white baby grand piano. Lush tropical plants separated conversation areas.

Her heels tapped sensually on the shimmering forest-green tiles as she walked to the discrete front desk. Laying her perfect twenty-nine-year-old hand with brand new French nails on the golden oak counter, Merry said, “Hi. I’m Merry Montrose’s niece.”

Andi Jones, Merry’s pride and joy, the clerk she had personally trained, smiled in welcome. Andi’s navy skirt and white blouse were as crisp and professional as her polished manners. “Good afternoon, Ms. Montrose. I assume your aunt made reservations for you.”

“Actually, no.” Merry smiled briefly, adopting the authoritative manner she’d perfected as Merry Montrose. “She hired me to take her place.”

Andi’s smile slipped, but didn’t completely fade. “Excuse me?”

“Last night my aunt became ill at the wedding. Planning the reception exhausted her, so she called me. I arrived just before dawn to find her badly in need of a rest. She told me she wanted to retire, so I made arrangements for her to go home.”

“I see.”

“And I’m taking her place—at least long enough to find a real replacement for her. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my office.”