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Alejandro rolled his eyes. His father still saw him as a rebellious teenager. “I’m thirty years old, not seventeen.”
Sergio didn’t say anything. No doubt the captain remembered some of Alejandro’s earlier … escapades.
“Tell me where you think I would run to, Captain?” Alejandro lay in bed covered with a sheet. “My business is here. I own properties. My father’s lackeys follow me wherever I go.”
“They are your security detail, sir,” Sergio said. “You must be protected. You’re the second in line for the throne.”
“Don’t remind me,” Alejandro muttered.
“Many would give everything to be in your position.”
Not if they knew what being the “spare” entailed. No one cared what he thought. Even when he tried to help the island, no one supported him. He’d had to do everything on his own.
Alejandro hated being a prince. He’d been educated in the United States. He didn’t want to participate in an outdated form of government where too much power rested with one individual. But he wanted to see his country prosper.
“Guard the door if you must.” Alejandro gave the kitten a pat. “I won’t make your job any more difficult for you than it is.”
As soon as Sergio left, Alejandro slid out of bed and showered. His father hadn’t requested formal dress so khaki shorts, a navy T-shirt and a pair of boat shoes would do.
Twenty minutes later, Alejandro entered the palace’s reception room. His older brother rose from the damask-covered settee. Enrique looked like a younger version of their father with his short hairstyle, tailored designer suit, starched dress shirt, silk tie and polished leather shoes. It was too bad his brother acted like their father, also.
“This had better be important, Enrique,” Alejandro said.
“It is.” His brother’s lips curved into a smug smile. “I’m getting married.”
About time. Enrique’s wedding would be the first step toward Alejandro’s freedom from the monarchy. The birth of a nephew or niece to take his place as second in line for the throne would be the next big step. “Congratulations, bro. I hope it’s a short engagement. Don’t waste any time getting your bride pregnant.”
Enrique smirked. “That’s the plan.”
“Why wait until the wedding? Start now.”
He laughed. “King Alaric would demand my head if I did that. He’s old-fashioned about certain things. Especially his daughter’s virginity.”
“Alaric.” Alejandro had heard the name. It took a second to realize where. “You’re marrying a princess from Aliestle?”
“Not a princess. The princess.” Enrique sounded excited. No wonder. Aliestle was a small kingdom in the Alps. With an abundance of natural resources, the country’s treasury was vast, a hundred times that of La Isla de la Aurora. “King Alaric has four sons and one daughter.”
“Father must be pleased.”
“He’s giddy over the amount of Julianna’s dowry and the economic advantages aligning with Aliestle will bring us. Fortunately for me, the princess is as beautiful as she is rich. A bit of an ice princess from what I hear, but I’ll warm her up.”
“If you need lessons—”
“I may not have your reputation with the ladies, but I shall manage fine on my own.”
“I hope the two of you are happy together.” Alejandro meant the words. A happy union would mean more heirs. The further Alejandro dropped in the line of succession, the better. He couldn’t wait to be able to focus his attention on building his business and attracting more investors to turn the island’s sluggish economy around.
“You are to be the best man.”
A statement of fact or a request? “Mingling with aristocracy is hazardous to my health.”
“You will move home until the wedding.”
A demand. Anger flared. “Enrique—”
“The royal family will show a united front during the engagement period. Your days will be free unless official events are scheduled. You’ll be expected to attend all dinners and evening functions. You must also be present when the princess and her party arrive today.”
Alejandro cursed. “You sound exactly like him.”
“They are Father’s words, not mine.” Rare compassion filled Enrique’s eyes. “But I would like you to be my best man. You’re my favorite brother.”
“I’m your only brother.”
Enrique laughed. “All the more reason for you to stand at my side. Father will compensate you for any inconvenience.”
Alejandro’s entire life was a damn inconvenience. Besides, he would never be able to get the one thing he wanted from his father. “I don’t want his money.”
“You never have, but when Father offers you payment, take it. You can put the money into your boats, buy another villa, donate it to charity or give it away on the streets,” Enrique advised. “You’ve earned this, Alejandro. Don’t let pride get in the way again.”
He wasn’t about to go there. “All I want is to be left alone.”
“As soon as Julianna and I have children, you will no longer be needed around here. If you do your part to ensure the wedding occurs, Father has promised to let you live your own life.”
Finally. “Did you ask for this or did Father offer?”
“It was a combination, but be assured of Father keeping his word.”
“When am I to move back?”
“After lunch.”
Alejandro cursed again. He had a boatyard to run, investment properties to oversee and the Med Cup to prepare for. Not to mention the kitten who expected to be fed. “I have a life. Responsibilities.”
“You have responsibilities here. Ones you ignore while you play with your boats,” Enrique chided.
Seething, Alejandro tried to keep his tone even. “I’m not playing. I’m working. If you’d see the upcoming Med Cup race as an opportunity to promote—”
“If you want to build the island’s reputation, then support this royal wedding. It’ll do much more for the economy than your expensive ideas to improve the island’s nightlife, build flashy resorts and attract the sailing crowd with a little regatta.”
“The Med Cup is a big deal. It’ll—”
“Whatever.” Enrique brushed Alejandro aside as if he were a bothersome gnat. Like father, like son. “Do what you must to be here after lunch or Father will send you away on a diplomatic mission.”
The words were like a punch to Alejandro’s solar plexus. Not unexpected given the way his father and brother operated sometimes. The threat would be carried out, too. That meant Alejandro had to do as told to secure his future. His freedom.
“I’ll be back before your princess arrives.”
But he would be doing a few things his way.
Once the black sheep, always the black sheep.
And let’s face it, Alejandro didn’t mind the title at all.
A helicopter whisked Jules over the clear, blue Mediterranean Sea. The luxurious cabin with large, leather seats comfortably fit the four of them: her, Brandt, Yvette her maid and Klaus their bodyguard. But even with soundproofing, each wore headsets to communicate and protect their ears from the noise of the rotors.
Almost there.
A combination of excitement and nerves made Jules want to tap her toes and twist the ends of her hair with her finger. She kept her hands clasped on her lap instead. She wanted to make her family and country proud. Her mother, God rest her soul, too. Presenting the image of a princess completely in control was important, even if doing so wasn’t always easy.
She glanced out the window. Below, on the water, a Sun Fast 3200 with a colorful spinnaker caught her eye. She pressed her forehead against the window to get a better look at the sailboat.
Gorgeous.
The crew sat on the rail, their legs dangling over the side. The hull planed across the waves.
Longing made it difficult to breath.
What she wouldn’t give to be on that boat sailing away from the island instead of flying toward the stranger who would be her husband and the father of her children … But she shouldn’t wish that. Jules had a responsibility, a duty, the same that had been thrust upon her mother so many years ago. Marrying Prince Enrique had to be better than being stuck in patriarchal Aliestle for the rest of her life. At least, she hoped so. If not …
Jules grimaced.
“You okay?” Brandt’s voice asked through her headset.
She shrugged. “I think I’m cursed. When my godparents offered gifts at my christening, one of them must have cursed me to a life of duty with no reward. A loveless arranged marriage.”
And an unfulfilled yearning for adventure and freedom.
“Look out the window,” Brandt said. “You’re not cursed, Jules. You’re going to be living on a vacation paradise.”
Crescents of postcard-worthy white sand beaches came into view. Palm trees seemed to stand at attention, except for the few arching toward the ground. The beach gave way to a town. Pastel-colored, tiled roofed buildings and narrow streets dotted the hillsides above the village center.
She glimpsed rows of sailboats moored at a marina. The masts, tall and shiny, rocked starboard and port like metronomes. Her mouth went dry.
Perhaps cursed was the wrong word. All these sailboats had to be a good sign, right? “Maybe life will be different here.”
“It will.” Brandt smiled, the same charming smile she’d seen on a cover of a tabloid at the airport in Spain. “Your fiancé will be unable to resist your beauty and intelligence. He’ll fall head over heels in love with you and allow you to do whatever you wish. Including sailing on the ocean.”
She wiggled her toes in anticipation. “I hope that’s true.”
“Believe,” he encouraged. “That’s what you always tell me.”
Yes, she did. But this situation was different. Jules knew nothing about Prince Enrique. She’d been so busy preparing for her departure she hadn’t had time to look him up on the internet. Not that she had a choice in marrying him even if he turned out to be an ogre.
For all she knew he was old with one foot in the grave. Okay, now she was overreacting. Her father had always matched her with younger men because he wanted grandchildren. This match shouldn’t be any different.
Jules hoped Enrique was charming, handsome and would sweep her off her feet. She wanted to find him attractive and be able to love him. She also wanted his heart to be free and open to loving her in return.
Her concern ratcheted. Prince Richard and Prince Niko had been in love with other women. If Enrique’s affections were attached to a girlfriend or mistress that wouldn’t bode well for their match reaching the altar or, if it did, love developing between them.
Jules shifted in her seat. “I do hope this island has up-to-date ideas about women.”
“It has to be more contemporary. Aliestle has been asleep since the Middle Ages.” Brandt cupped one side of his headset with his hand. “Listen, I hear Father snoring now. The tyrant could wake the dead.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Jules’s mouth. “Too bad we can’t wake him.”
“Along with the entire Council of Elders.”
Nodding, she stared at her brother who was more known as a playboy crown prince than a burgeoning politician and ruler. “When you’re king, you’ll change the way things are done.”
Brandt shrugged. “Being king will be too much work.”
“You’ll rise to the occasion,” she encouraged.
He gave her a look. “You really think so?”
“Yes.” Her gaze locked with his, willing him to remember their previous discussions and their plan. Okay, her plan. “You will bring our country into the twenty-first century. If not for our younger brothers and subjects, then for your children and theirs. Especially the daughters.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. And I’ll help.” The bane of his existence was being crown prince. Brandt wanted all the perks that went with being royalty without any of the responsibility. One of these days he was going to have to grow up. “Once I marry someone outside of Aliestle, Father’s reign over me ends. I’ll be able to represent our country to the world and gain support to help you enact reforms when you are king, even if the Council of Elders is against them. We must change Aliestle for the better, Brandt.”
He didn’t say anything. She didn’t expect him to.
“We are approaching the palace,” the pilot announced over the headsets.
Goose bumps prickled Jules’s skin.
Full of curiosity at her new home, she peered out the window. A huge white stucco and orange-tile roofed palace perched above the sea. The multistoried building had numerous balconies and windows.
But no tower. Another good sign?
A paved road and narrower walking paths wove their way through a landscape of palm trees, flowering bushes and manicured greenery. Water shot at least twenty-five feet into the air from an ornately decorated fountain.
The Mediterranean island and palace were a world away from Aliestle and the stone castle fortress nestled high in the Alps. Living somewhere lighter and brighter would be a welcome change from the Grimm-like fairy-tale setting she called home.
“Father may have finally gotten this right,” Brandt said.
Jules nodded. “It’s pretty.”
“At least on the outside.”
She sighed. “Don’t forget, dear brother, you’re here for moral support.”
“And to make sure the honeymoon doesn’t start early,” Brandt joked.
As if she’d ever had that opportunity present itself. She glared at him. “Be quiet.”
“Sore spot, huh?”
