Rebecca Winters: Bride Fit for a Prince

Callie had forgotten about those happier days. She had to admit Ann had been a real trouper way back in high school when Callie had developed this horrendous crush on their neighbor’s son, Jerry. No other guy could compete.

“That’s what I’m doing now, Callie. Begging you to help me. My agent told me I have to report for makeup at six in the morning. If I don’t show up, not only will I be out of the film, I’ll be blackballed and he’ll drop me as a client. Where else do I go for help except my family? Please.”

Feeling her last escape hole closing over her, Callie closed her eyes tightly. “You’re asking a lot.”

“I know. If it’s any help, I’ve worked out a contingency plan.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve written out a ten thousand dollar check to the prince. It’s all the money I have in the world until I’m paid in two weeks. When you get to Italy, be honest with the prince.

“Tell him you’re my sister, that you’re there on my behalf. Explain that the same night I was in the benefit, I was offered the most important film role of my life.

“Hand him the betrothal ring and the check. It should cover the airline tickets and any other expenses he incurred. Tell him if he wants more money because I’ve broken the contract, he’ll have to ask his attorney to contact my attorney through my agent.

“Once you’ve delivered my message and given him everything, you can turn around and come home on the next flight. I promise you he’s a sweetheart. All the other finalists thought he was a darling and wished they’d been chosen. There won’t be any problem with him.”

“You don’t know anything about his character,” Callie muttered, feeling herself crumble because Ann’s suggestion actually sounded plausible. She supposed that if she talked to the prince face-to-face, and offered him the money while she explained the situation…

“Maybe not, but I’m certain he’s not the monster you’ve made him out to be. Just remember, Callie—I didn’t sign up to be in that benefit with the intention of backing out if I’d been chosen. I would have gone through with it.

“But when my agent called with the news that I could replace that other actress, I couldn’t turn it down. Look—you’ve already established your career. Couldn’t you find it in your heart to take three days away from your routine to help me forge mine? Is it really too much to ask?”

When Ann put it like that…

“No,” Callie conceded quietly. She did owe her sister for past favors.

“Oh, Callie—thank you, thank you.” She broke down sobbing and threw her arms around her, mindless of the dirt.

“I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time,” Callie murmured. “Three days isn’t such a sacrifice. I’ll suggest to the prince that he make arrangements to marry the runner-up. She had to sign that contract, too. My guess is she’ll jump at the chance to take your place.”

“I know she will!” Ann sniffed and let her go. “She’s a beautiful brunette and is a graduate student in architecture from Carmel. They showed a film clip of her winning all these horseback riding competitions. I can’t understand why the prince didn’t pick her to begin with. She was much more suited to being a real princess.”

Thank goodness there had been a runner-up. It would make Callie’s task easier.

“Why don’t you go back to the clinic and wait for me. I’m not sure how long I’ll be at the Pike’s.”

“That’s okay. I’ll sit in the car and work on my lines for tomorrow’s shoot. When you’re through, I’ll follow you home and help you pack.”

“What’s to pack? Aside from some extra underwear, a clean pair of jeans and a top should last me for the thirty-six-hour trip over and back. It’s all the time I can spare. The Selanders’s mare will be having her foal any day now. I plan to be here for it.”

“But you can’t meet the prince dressed that casually—” Ann cried out aghast.

“I’m not his betrothed. No one’s going to care what the messenger looks like.”

Ann shook her head. “I just hope you won’t feel foolish when all these people are at the airport in full royal regalia.”

“He’ll only get what he deserves for buying you like you were the goods at a slave market. The whole thing is so disgusting I still can’t believe it.”

The prince might be attractive, but Callie would bet her life there was a strain of mental illness that ran in his royal family. As far as she was concerned, the sooner she got Ann out of this wretched situation, the better.

Two days later the commuter flight from Milan where Callie had gone through customs, taxied to a stop at the airport in Turin. Torino to the locals.

She unfastened her seat belt, anxious to meet the prince and get this over with. Though she was tired, traveling first-class had made it a pleasant enough experience. In an hour she’d be on the return flight and sleep all the way home.

Looping the strap of her tote bag over her shoulder, she followed the other passengers to the waiting area inside the terminal.

There were masses of people standing about. Callie braced herself for whatever fanfare awaited her, but to her surprise nothing happened. She walked around for a few minutes, expecting to be approached, or to hear her sister’s name being called over the public address system at least.

How odd… It appeared no royal contingent had come to the airport for her yet. Maybe something unavoidable had occurred and the prince couldn’t help being late.

Slowly the crowds thinned until everyone had gone except a dangerous-looking male in his mid-thirties with overly long black hair seated on one of the lounge chairs. He was reading an Italian newspaper. His well-worn jeans and black leather jacket emphasized a strong, powerful physique.

There was something about Italian men Callie had noticed from the moment she’d entered the Milan terminal. No matter what they wore, they had a certain style and elegance that caused them to stand out from other men.

She grudgingly admitted that’s why they had the reputation for being seductive lovers. Especially this dark, arresting stranger whose aquiline features made her heart race for no good reason.

When he looked up suddenly and she met his jet-black gaze head on, heat enveloped her like a desert storm. She turned away, embarrassed to be caught staring like that. Without hesitation she headed for the terminal desk.

If the prince didn’t come soon, she’d write a note of explanation and slip it in the envelope with the check and ring. Before she boarded the plane for her return flight home in half an hour, she would ask the airline employee to make certain it was put in the prince’s hands.

“Signorina Lassiter?”

A deep, unfamiliar male voice spoke directly behind her. She spun around to discover the striking-looking stranger standing too close to her, robbing her of breath. He was a tall man, at least six feet two. At five feet eight, she noticed things like that.

His searching black eyes seemed to consume her features and hair which she wore in one fat braid halfway down her back.

“Are you from the palace?”

There was a pregnant pause. “That’s right. My name is Nicco.” He spoke excellent English with a heavy accent she found disturbingly appealing.

“I understood Prince Enzo was going to meet the plane.”

“I’m afraid he was unavoidably detained. I was dispatched to…take care of you.”

“Who are you? One of his bodyguards?”

His lips twitched. “Would it make you feel safer if I said yes?”

Not particularly. If the truth be known, Callie had already imagined this man could handle himself in any situation. What bothered her was his mocking arrogance which had caught her on the raw. It appeared the prince’s emissary had kept her waiting on purpose.