Rebecca Winters: Bride Fit for a Prince

His continued silence infuriated her.

“They started filming in Hollywood yesterday and she had to be on the set at six in the morning. So she came to see me the day before yesterday and asked me if I would return the ring to the prince in person and give him the money.”

Callie wondered if he was even listening to her.

“If it’s not enough, tell him to contact her agent who will confer with her attorney. She wrote his name and number on a piece of paper in the envelope. I think that’s everything, and now I have to go. They’re calling for my flight to Milan.”

Crowds had gathered once more, filling the terminal with noisy chatter.

“If I could have my wallet and passport please.”

To her great relief, he put everything in her bag and handed it to her with an enigmatic expression on his face. “I will convey your message to the prince.”

Finally a reaction!

“Thank you. Please tell him I’m very sorry my sister didn’t know about the movie offer in time to pull out of the benefit. But if he’s as wonderful as my sister says he is, then I’m sure he’ll have no problem finding another fiancée.

“Ann told me the first runner-up in the competition was dying to be picked. Remind the prince that she was the ravishing brunette who’s also an expert equestrian. Oh, yes, and a graduate student in architecture. She’ll make the right bride for his highness.

“If he acts right away, a private jet could be sent for her in time to arrive for tomorrow’s ceremony. Now I really have to go. Goodbye.”

RELIEVED to get away from him, Callie handed her boarding pass to the airline person at the gate and hurried through the door to the plane. Once she’d found her seat and strapped herself in, she could finally relax.

The whole thing had gone much better than she’d hoped. In a way she was glad she hadn’t been forced to deal with the prince. No matter how repulsed she was by his evil method to get himself a bride, it still would have been hard to look him in the eye and tell him her sister didn’t want to marry him after all.

As for Niccolo Machiavelli, she needed to put him out of her mind and forget such a man existed. He’d excited her in a frightening kind of way, probably because he was foreign and an unknown quantity. Her body still tingled from the caress of his fingers on her cheek and hands.

She’d never reacted to a man’s touch like that before. Worse, she felt a sense of loss she couldn’t account for to realize she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

It was very strange considering that lately Callie had decided maybe she and Ann had been born without a woman’s normal feelings. All of their friends had found a husband by now. Many of them already had children.

Growing up, Callie and Ann had never suffered from a lack of dates. If anything, it had been the other way around. Yet neither of them had ever had a serious boyfriend.

At college and vet school there’d been quite a few students interested in her, but she’d been too absorbed in her studies to get involved. It was the same way for Ann who’d had dates with some well known actors. Yet her hope of being an actress was stronger than her desire to settle down.

Now, suddenly, a dark stranger had made Callie aware of herself as a flesh and blood woman with needs that must have been lying dormant all these years. How ironic to think it took an Italian male to wake her up to her own sensuality.

Not just any Italian man, Callie.

Her instincts about animals and people were usually right on. The man who worked for Prince Enzo was a breed apart from other men. She’d sensed it from the first moment she’d seen him sitting there in all his splendid indifference to the world around him.

Deep inside she had the disquieting feeling he was going to be unforgettable. The thought was so alarming, she reached for her novel in a desperate attempt to get her mind on anything else besides him.

Little by little the seats filled. She tried to concentrate on the story, but it was impossible. The plane couldn’t take off fast enough to suit her.

A new flight attendant came on board. She smiled and chatted with each passenger. When she came to Callie she said, “Signorina Lassiter? If you would come with me, please.”

Callie blinked. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. There are two policemen waiting inside the terminal to talk to you.”

Oh, no. Nicco must have already reported to the prince and now she was about to be detained. She should have known this was too easy.

“As a matter of courtesy to you, I told them I would find you. I’m sure you don’t want to be embarrassed by having them come on board for an interrogation.”

“No, of course not—but the plane’s about ready to take off.”

“They said this shouldn’t take long.”

“I see. Thank you.”

With growing trepidation she got up from the seat, grabbed her bag and followed the flight attendant into the terminal. Sure enough two Italian policemen in uniform were waiting for her at the exit.

“Signorina Lassiter?” The one with the moustache spoke first.

“Yes?”

“Signorina Ann Lassiter?” the other one questioned.

“No,” she answered honestly. “My name is Callie. Ann is my sister.”

“Your passport, please.”

Once again she found herself opening her shoulder bag to get it out. The policeman took it from her and studied the picture.

“Thank you very much.” He put it in his pocket. “If you’ll come with us please.”

“What do you mean? I have a plane to catch!”

The two officers smiled at each other before the one with the moustache said, “His royal highness learned that his beautiful American fiancée has prewedding nerves, a problem he finds extremely charming. He hopes that by now you have gotten over them enough to let us take you to him.”

“No—” she cried out. “I mean, you don’t understand—I’m not his fiancée! I can prove it if you’ll just let me make one phone call!”

They broke into laughter. “He warned us you would put up a struggle. Come, signorina. No one keeps the prince waiting. However for his bride-to-be, he has made an exception this one time. We will take you to him.”

Callie sensed that if she continued to fight them, it would no longer be a joking matter. So much for her sister’s belief that ten thousand dollars would settle everything.

I promise 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.

She’d known there’d been a catch somewhere. Now she thought she’d figured out what it was. Prince Enzo held a title and nothing else! That’s why no royal contingent had been sent to greet her when she got off the plane and that’s why he needed to buy a bride.

It was probably the reason he’d used his celebrity status to be the focus of a huge Hollywood benefit. No doubt he needed a wife to support him! Where else in the world but America would people pay big money for charity to rub shoulders with a European prince?

What better woman for him to pick than a shallow Hollywood actress with stars in her eyes for a brain, and a bank account that could feed all the homeless at once?

His choice of bride-to-be was beginning to make a lot of sense. Everyone knew a film idol was worth millions. Enough to keep him in the manner to which he’d been accustomed before his fortune had run out or he’d squandered it.

Apparently the prince’s mouthpiece Nicco had wasted no time informing him that Signorina Lassiter had tried to back out of that damnable contract by insisting she was the wrong woman. He’d probably advised the prince to extort as much money from her as he could.