The Prince's Bride

Cover Page

Title Page

Excerpt

Dear Reader

Dedication

About the Author

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Copyright

The Prince’s Bride

Lisa Kaye Laurel

www.millsandboon.co.uk

“It is a great honor to present you my betrothed, Miss Julie Britton,”

Prince Erik announced.

An expectant hush spread over the crowded ballroom.

Erik looked down at Julie. “What are they waiting for?” he asked softly.

She gave him a smile so sweet, it made something in him ache. “I think they’re waiting for us to seal the deal,” she said, almost apologetically. “With a kiss.”

A kiss. He gathered her into his arms. Slowly she leaned toward him, her lips hovering just below his.

Erik covered her mouth with his and became lost in the reality of a kiss as sweet and warm as new honey.

He took a step back. The applause rose to a thunderous pitch, filling the massive room from wall to wall.

It was over. The crowd believed. Erik’s duty to the king was done.

But his engagement to Julie was just beginning…

Dear Reader,

This month, Silhouette Romance has six irresistible, emotional and heartwarming love stories for you, starting with our FABULOUS FATHERS title, Wanted: One Son by Laurie Paige. Deputy sheriff Nick Dorelli had watched the woman he loved marry another and have that man’s child. But now, mother and child need Nick. Next is The Bride Price by bestselling author Suzanne Carey. Kyra Martin has fuzzy memories of having just married her Navajo ex-fiancé in a traditional wedding ceremony. And when she discovers she’s expecting his child, she knows her dream was not only real…but had mysteriously come true! We also have two not-to-be missed new miniseries starting this month, beginning with Miss Prim’s Untamable Cowboy, book 1 of THE BRUBAKER BRIDES by Carolyn Zane. A prim image consultant tries to tame a very masculine working-class wrangler into the true Texas millionaire tycoon he really is. Good luck, Miss Prim!

In Only Bachelors Need Apply by Charlotte Maclay, a man-shy woman’s handsome new neighbor has some secrets that will make her the happiest woman in the world, and in The Tycoon and the Townie by Elizabeth Lane, a struggling waitress from the wrong side of the tracks is romanced by a handsome, wealthy bachelor. Finally, our other new miniseries, ROYAL WEDDINGS by Lisa Kaye Laurel. The lovely caretaker of a royal castle finds herself a prince’s bride-to-be during a ball…with high hopes for happily ever after in The Prince’s Bride.

I hope you enjoy all six of Silhouette Romance’s terrific novels this month…and every month.

Regards,

Melissa Senate,

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie; Ont. L2A 5X3

For my wonderful parents, who have always believed in me.

LISA KAYE LAUREL

has worked in a number of fields, but says that nothing she’s done compares to the challenges—and rewards—of being a full-time mom. Her extra energy is channeled into creating stories. She counts writing high on her list of blessings, which is topped by the love and support of her husband, her son, her daughter, her mother and her father.

Prologue

Julie entered the castle door and found herself in the middle of a fairy tale.

She looked around, enraptured. Everything was just as she had pictured it would be when she had dreamed of dressing up and going to a royal ball at the Anders Point castle. But this was no dream. She was really here, literally rubbing elbows in the entry hall with some of the most famous and influential people in the world. It struck her that tonight, these were her peers. Though she was sixteen years old and granddaughter of the castle caretaker, she was an invited guest at the royal ball, the same as they were. Handing her wrap to an attendant, she cast a nervous glance at the mirror that hung on the wall. An attractive young woman dressed in an elegant long gown looked back at her, and Julie’s first thought was, I’d like to befriends with her. Her second, which came with a shock, was, I am that woman!

Following the crowd, she took her place in the receiving line. King Ivar, who had known her from the cradle, gave her a look of approval as he took her hand. Then she was on her own. She found a place to stand at one side of the ballroom, drawing herself up straight and trying to feel as poised on the inside as the mirror had told her she looked on the outside. She had no thought of being the belle of the ball. Even to turn one head was too much to hope for. Just being there in the room with him was enough.

After all, every good fairy tale has a handsome prince, and Julie’s was no exception. One glimpse of him from across the crowded ballroom kicked off a frantic fluttering in her chest. She still wasn’t used to the strange and wondrous feeling she got whenever she was near Prince Erik. His very presence was magnetic. Her eyes simply couldn’t look away from him; her ears strained for the sound of his voice; her skin tingled at the thought of his touch; and something inside her felt helplessly drawn toward him, as if caught by the mysterious pull of a current in the ocean. She had no idea how long she stood there, wholly absorbed in watching his fluid movements as he danced partner after partner around the floor. She rejoiced that it was his duty to dance with the most prominent of his father’s guests, because it kept him within sight on the ballroom floor. He didn’t notice her standing there, drinking him in with her eyes. But then, there was no reason that he should.

Near the end of a song, someone jostled into Julie, and she stepped on the hem of her gown. That brought her out of her fog. She pushed the long folds of her dress out behind her, looking over her shoulder to make sure nothing had torn. Assured that all was well, she turned back around, her gaze finding Prince Erik like the needle of a compass finds north.

He was looking at her. When their eyes met, it was like a physical touch. Julie’s heart thumped so hard it hurt. She tried to take a breath but her lungs seemed frozen. Time ceased as he made his way through the crowd, never taking his eyes from her. When at last he reached her, he bowed formally.

Hours of practice in front of her bedroom mirror had paid off, and Julie executed a perfect curtsy even with jelly-filled knees.

At the sound of his voice, warmth uncurled in the pit of her stomach. “Please allow me to introduce myself,” he said. “I am Erik Anders.”

Julie’s eyes widened. Had her transformation been so complete that he didn’t know who she was? “I know,” she said, offering him a tremulous smile. “I mean, you and I…” She took a deep breath and began again. “We’ve met before, Your Highness.”

He stared at her then. “Julie? Julie Britton?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The shock of recognition in Erik’s deep, brown eyes told her that he had remembered her as the coltish teenager she had been the last time he’d seen her. His expression never changed, but his silent gaze made her feel all the more like the ugly duckling that had turned into a swan.

The silence began to feel awkward. Wasn’t it his turn to say something, since she had spoken last? Feeling as if she were playing a game whose rules were written in another language, Julie said, “The ball…it’s wonderful. And you dance so…beautifully.” At her words she felt her cheeks grow hot. What a stupid thing to say to a prince! And what a time to blush! She looked away, both hoping and dreading that he would excuse himself and find his next partner, leaving her in her pink-cheeked misery to watch him from afar. But the sound of his voice drew her eyes back to his.

Up close he was so heart-stoppingly handsome that it took a moment for the words he spoke to register with her. And those words were magical. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” he asked softly.

She looked at him in disbelief. Could it be true? Prince Erik wanted to dance with her! All of the fervent, silent longings of her heart had come true. Almost paralyzed with nervousness, she managed to loosen her tongue to answer. “Thank you for the kind invitation, Your Highness,” she said, regaining her poise. “It would be a pleasure to dance with you.”

She placed her hand on the arm he held out to her, the feel of hard muscle under his tuxedo jacket sending a warm thrill coursing through her. As he led her onto the dance floor, a sudden panic seized her—which hand was she supposed to give him to hold? She had practiced dancing with her girlfriend Drew, but they had taken turns leading, so that both ways seemed natural to Julie. Her alarm was needless, though; his movements were so smooth and sure that without her realizing quite how it happened, she was in his arms.

With all she was feeling, it was impossible for Julie to concentrate on the steps she had practiced, but she found that she didn’t need to. Dancing with Erik seemed effortless; following his lead, as natural as breathing.

He held her away from him, as if she were both fragile and priceless. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Julie wanted to laugh out loud. Whatever she had imagined her prince might say during a dance, it was not those words of careful concern. Was she all right? It was like asking the sun if it felt lukewarm. She let her answer beam out in a smile that seemed to melt away some of his reserve. He broadened his steps, sweeping her across the ballroom, naturally tightening his embrace and pulling her closer.

Her poise gave way as a wild restlessness swirled through her, and it seemed to Julie as though she had discovered all of the wonder of life right there in his arms. The sureness of his step as he guided her, the hardness of his muscle under her touch, even the subtle fragrance of his aftershave were constant reminders to her that this was a man who was holding her—not an almost man, like the boys at school, and not a fairytale prince—a real man. And she found herself responding to him like a woman, for the first time. Her body became soft and pliant, her curves nestling against his solid muscle; her insides went warm and liquid; and she couldn’t look at his mouth without licking her lips. It was as if her body had been dormant and was now gradually coming to glorious life.

After what seemed a lifetime—or was it the blink of an eye?—the song came to an end. She looked up at Erik, and when their eyes met he pulled her closer. All around them couples were talking and walking, but amid the flow they stood like an island, silent and motionless, locked in an embrace. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming for Julie, and she knew instinctively that she could not be feeling something so powerful all by herself.

Strains of the next song filtered through, a slow song. Julie had no thought but to remain in his arms all night, but the music seemed to be a kind of a signal for Erik. He pulled back and excused himself abruptly, murmuring something about his duty as a member of the host family. Julie watched him disappear into the crowd, then made a sudden departure of her own, out of one of the French doors that lined the side of the ballroom.

Once outside, she gravitated toward the sanctuary of her secret place on the castle grounds, a rocky ledge above the ocean that was secluded from sight by trees. Alone at last, she clamped one hand over her galloping heart, which did nothing to stop it from carrying her, in her mind, at a breakneck pace over beautiful and terrifying new ground. And deep breaths of the brisk ocean air did not purge her feeling that one dance with Erik Anders had shifted the axis of her world forever and always.

She heard a noise behind her and turned to see a man leaning against a tree. With an easy movement, he started toward her.

It was Erik.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, taken by surprise. “Did you follow me?”

“No. I was here first.” His voice was a deep rumble beside her in the dark.

“I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place.”

“I’ve always known.”

He said no more, but just having him so near was unsettling. At last curiosity overcame her. “Why did you come out here, Erik?” she asked.

“Probably for the same reason you did.”

Her heart began to pound. She knew why she was there, and she saw her feelings mirrored in his eyes. But she needed to hear him say it, to have him put it into words. “And what reason is that?” she asked softly.

He tore his gaze away from hers and turned it to the ocean. After a pause he said, “To get a breath of fresh air, of course.”

Disappointed, Julie looked out over the edge of the rocks. She sensed that, here with Erik, she was poised on the brink of a chasm. She could take the no-risk path by turning away. Or she could try to make a breathtaking leap into the wonderful future that was beckoning to her from the other side.

Logic never had a chance. Julie, not wanting to live with the specter of might-have-been, took a leap of faith. “There’s something I have to say to you, Erik,” she said, and swallowed once before baring her soul. I’ve never felt this way before. But I’ve had feelings for you—from afar—for a long time. And now it felt like something…happened between us, there in the ballroom.”

“We shared a dance, Julie.”

“There was more to it than that.”

“Yes, there certainly was,” he said, frustration roughening his voice. He turned to face her. “There was the fact that the dance was at a royal ball, in a castle. There was the fact that you are very young and are no doubt inclined to see romance lurking around every corner, anyway. There was the fact that I am an older man, five years older than you, and a prince to boot.”

She couldn’t help smiling. “I may be younger than you are, but there’s no need to insult me. I know what I feel, and it’s not because of any of those things.”

“I’m not only older, I’m also more experienced than you are, Julie. Listen to me,” he said earnestly, as if trying to convince himself. “Take away those rather unusual circumstances, and you’ll realize, as I do, that it was just an ordinary dance.”

He didn’t convince her; rather, his denial made her more sure that she was right. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe that it was much more. And I think that you believe it, too.”

“I don’t, and I’ll prove it to you,” he said, pulling her into his arms. This time it was not a charming request, but a hoarse command. “Dance with me.”

His gruffness made her hopes soar, but he remained completely self-possessed, holding her at arm’s length in an excruciatingly proper dance position. She knew what he was trying to do. There was no ballroom here, just the looming shadows of trees behind them and the endless dark expanse of the ocean in front of them. There was no sparkling light from crystal chandeliers, just the milky darkness of a night lit by a half moon. There was no sweet throatiness of an orchestra’s music, just eerie wisps of melody carried their way by the restless, chilly breeze.

But none of that mattered, any more than Julie’s inexperience did. Instinctively she closed the gap between them, her body coming into full contact with his. She was rewarded by the sizzle of a connection, and felt his arms gather her closer. The spark took hold, becoming a fire that warmed their embrace. She felt the power of its heat as surely as she felt the thrill of being held against him.

“Do you believe there’s more now?” she asked softly.

During the long silence that followed, they abandoned all pretense of dancing and stood poised, eyes locked, connected in body and in something more. The amber flame she saw deep in his eyes told her that she was right, that he did feel what she felt. She looked up at him, willing him to go that one step further and tell her with the kind of kiss that sealed destinies.

“You do believe, Erik,” she whispered urgently. “I know you do.”

With her words she saw the burning intensity in his eyes flicker and disappear. And then he kissed her—on the top of the head. He took a step backward, breaking all contact between them.

“I believe,” he said evenly, “that it’s time I got you back to the ballroom. I have neglected my duty long enough.”

And with that her leap of faith ended with a heartrending crash. Keeping her head high, silently fighting back tears, Julie let him escort her back to the ball. And then she walked away, through the crowded ballroom and out the front door of the castle once again, wondering why her handsome prince didn’t know that fairy tales were supposed to have happy endings.

Chapter One

Erik Anders turned his back on the hospital bed to look out the window, not that he noticed the view of Boston spread out before him. He was taking a moment to remind himself that the man lying in the bed behind him was King Ivar, ruler of Isle Anders, a man to whom deference was due even when he wasn’t lying in recovery from heart surgery.

He had to remind himself because, at that moment, His Majesty the king was acting like your basic, garden variety, stubbornly infuriating father. His father.

“I await your answer,” came the king’s commanding voice from behind him.

Prince Erik turned back and took his seat at his father’s bedside. On the other side of the bed sat his younger brother, Whit, who looked both amused and relieved that Erik had drawn their father’s fire this time.

“Your Majesty, perhaps this is not the best time to discuss this.” Erik’s voice kept its customary calm. The king’s doctor had made it clear to him and his brother that although their father was making progress in his recovery, they had to make every effort to keep him from feeling stress of any kind.

The king, who did not take to coddling, gave Erik a smoldering look. “You, my elder son, are the crown prince of Isle Anders. Destiny has chosen you to succeed me to the throne,” he said. “I place great trust in you, and never have you let me down. Never have you shirked a duty. Until now.”

Erik counted to ten in his native language and then in English before answering. “With all due respect, sire, I am not shirking this duty, either. I am well aware that the laws of tradition dictate that the crown prince of Isle Anders must take a bride before being crowned king, and I stand ready to uphold that requirement.”

“You are thirty years old. Just when do you plan to fulfill your duty?” the king demanded.

“Before my coronation, which I hope will not take place for a good many years.”

“I am getting older,” the king warned. “I just had major surgery.”

“From which your doctor expects you will make a fine recovery,” Erik stated calmly. “All you need to do is rest.”

“I can’t rest easy until I know the succession is secure.”

“It will be.” Erik reminded himself that his father was only thinking about the country they both loved. Isle Anders wasn’t big, but it was beautiful, a jewel of an island in the deep blue waters of the North Atlantic, not far from Iceland. During the short summer it glowed with the dark green fire of an emerald; in winter it sparkled with the icy brilliance of a diamond. It was icier than Greenland, greener than Iceland, and its people were as gutsy and strong as the Vikings who had first populated it. The Anders family, which had acquired its wealth independent of its position, had ruled the island with pride for countless years with the approval of the citizens they served. The way Erik looked at it, he had been born into the privilege of doing a job he loved, and he would do nothing to jeopardize that. Like his father, Erik Anders took his duty to Isle Anders very seriously.

“Without a marriage, there can be no heir to the throne,” the king pointed out.

“I assure you, sire—” Erik began.

“I am not assured!” Fire flashed from behind the king’s blue eyes. “I know that there is no shortage of admiring women around you, but I am also well aware that you don’t give any of them the slightest chance to win your affection. And as for him—” The king threw a glance of reproof at Whit, who had such a reputation as a ladies’ man that the press had dubbed him the Prince of Hearts. “Where does this leave me? With one son who refuses to fall in love and another who falls in love every other week!” he said, his voice echoing off the walls of the room.

Then, as quickly as it had arisen, the fire in the king’s eyes died. He sank back heavily against his pillows, his face ashen, just as his doctor entered the room.

“You two, out of here!” the doctor ordered sharply. Both princes jumped to the command. All three men knew that in the matter of the king’s health, the doctor’s status as a medical man outranked the princes’ royalty.

Out in the hallway Erik and his brother exchanged a worried look.

“Do you think he’s all right?” Whit finally asked.

Erik shrugged and propped a shoulder against the wall.

Whit dragged his fingers through his hair. “I hate to see him like this.”

Erik knew what he meant. The golden strands of the king’s thick hair and beard were well-laced with silver, and his recent illness and surgery had left him looking careworn and haggard. And the way he talked… For the first time, Erik feared his indomitable father might be giving up hope. The thought gave him a bone-deep chill.

He shook it off, refusing to think about the possibility of King Ivar’s not making it. Instead of dwelling on something he had no power over, he turned his thoughts to something he did: his father’s preoccupation with the idea of securing the succession. Erik had long known that it was his duty to his country to marry before his coronation. But maybe it was his duty to his father to do it sooner.

He had someone in mind, of course; someone he had known for a long time. She was exactly the kind of woman he had always expected to take as a wife: a woman who suited him perfectly, who surely shared his feeling that she was destined to be his bride.

Erik had waited for a number of reasons, but now he knew that he had put off the inevitable long enough. The time was finally right. Tonight’s ball would be the perfect forum for him to introduce his future bride to the world. The perfect setting for their rendezvous with destiny.

Julie Britton set down the receiver but hung on to the phone, as if that might stop the strange soaring feeling that the unexpected news had given her.

Of course she had known Prince Erik would be back in the States, now that his father was ill. But she never expected that he would make an appearance at the ball here in Anders Point tonight.

Not that it mattered to her, Julie told herself firmly. She was in charge of planning the charity ball for King Ivar. She had overseen everything, right down to the last detail. It couldn’t possibly matter to her which of the king’s sons was to perform the duties of host.