INVITATION TO THE

PRINCE’S PALACE

JENNIE ADAMS

THE PRINCE’S

SECOND CHANCE

BRENDA HARLEN

www.millsandboon.co.uk

INVITATION TO THE

PRINCE’S PALACE

JENNIE ADAMS

About the Author

Australian author JENNIE ADAMS grew up in a rambling farmhouse surrounded by books and by people who loved reading them. She decided at a young age to be a writer, but it took many years and a lot of scenic detours before she sat down to pen her first romance novel. Jennie has worked in a number of careers and voluntary positions, including transcription typist and pre-school assistant. She is the proud mother of three fabulous adult children, and makes her home in a small inland city in New South Wales. In her leisure time Jennie loves long, rambling walks, discovering new music, starting knitting projects that she rarely finishes, chatting with friends, trips to the movies and new dining experiences.

Jennie loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted via her website at www.jennieadams.net

For Kara

Dear Reader,

Take one modern-day prince, add an everyday girl and an unconventional marriage arrangement, and watch the unanticipated romance unfold.

Invitation to the Prince’s Palace is my first royal story, and I’m so excited to be exploring the fantasy of an everyday girl marrying literally the prince of her dreams.

One of my pleasures is to throw characters with differing backgrounds, histories and outlooks together and watch the sparks fly as they resist each other, fall for each other, and figure out how to overcome the odds to be together. I’ve particularly enjoyed writing Rikardo and Melanie’s story. It has given me the chance to consider what it might be like for an ordinary girl to be swept off her feet and into a complete fantasy world—one she doesn’t believe she deserves or would be able to live in. Watch her prince figure out how to convince her, and watch him come to believe that true love can indeed happen—even when it’s the last thing he has planned!

I hope you enjoy the story of Australian cook Melanie Watson and her wonderful European prince, Rikardo Ettonbierre, as much as I enjoyed writing it.

With love from Australia,

Jennie

CHAPTER ONE

‘YOU’RE here. I expected to have to wait longer.’ Melanie Watson tried not to sound too desperately relieved to see the cab driver, but she was relieved. She’d been saving money to try to start a new life away from her aunt, uncle and cousin. She still didn’t have enough, but tonight she’d experienced very clearly just how soul-destroying it truly could be to live among people who postured rather than accepted, who used rather than loved.

The family’s gloves had come off and Mel had made the choice to leave now whether she was quite financially ready, or not.

Mel had waited until her cousin had disappeared into her suite of rooms, and until her aunt and uncle had fallen into bed. She’d cleaned up every speck of the kitchen because she never left a job half done, and then she’d ordered a cab, left a note in her room, packed her life into suitcases and carried it to the kerb.

Mel tried to focus her gaze on a suburb painted in shades of silvery dawn. The sun would rise fully soon. The wispy chill would lift. Clarity and the new day would come and things would look better. If she could only stay awake and alert for that long.

She really felt quite odd right now, off kilter with an unpleasant buzzing in her head. She didn’t exactly feel she might be about to faint, but … she didn’t feel right, that was for sure.

‘It’s a nice time for a drive. It’ll be really quiet and peaceful.’ That sounded hopeful, didn’t it? At least a little bit positive and not overly blurry?

With the kind of anonymity born of speaking to a total stranger, Mel confided, ‘I’m a bit under the weather. I had an allergic reaction earlier and I didn’t get to take anything for it until just now. The medication is having a lot stronger impact on me than I thought it would.’

She’d got the treatment from her cousin’s stash while Nicolette had seen off the last of the wealthy guests. Maybe Mel shouldn’t have helped herself that way, but she’d been desperate.

Mel drew a breath and tried for a chirpy tone that emerged with an edge of exhaustion. ‘But I’m ready to leave. Melbourne airport here we come.’

‘I arrived earlier than anticipated so I’m grateful that you are ready.’

She thought he might have murmured, ‘Grateful and somewhat surprised’ before he went on.

‘And I’m pleased to hear your enthusiasm despite the problem of allergies. Might I ask what caused them?’ The taxi driver’s brows lifted as though he didn’t quite know what to make of her.

Fair enough. Mel didn’t know what to make of herself right now. She’d fulfilled her obligations, had pulled off all the beautiful desserts and other food for the dinner party despite harassment from her relatives and cleaned up afterwards when the party had finally ended.

Now she really needed her wits about her to leave, and they weren’t co-operating. Instead, they wanted to fall asleep standing up. Like a tram commuter after a big day’s work, or a girl who’d taken a maximum dose allergy pill on top of a night of no sleep and wheezing and swallowing back sneezes and getting a puffy face and puffy eyes.

‘My cousin bought a new perfume. She sprayed it near me and off I went. Apparently I’m allergic to gardenias.’ Mel dug for the remnants of her sense of humour. She knew it was still in there somewhere! ‘Just don’t give me any big bunches of those and I’m sure we’ll be fine.’

‘I will see to that. And you are right. It is a good time for a drive. The Melbourne cityscape is charming, even in pre-dawn light.’ His words seemed so serious, and his gaze focused on her eyes, then on the spot where the dimple had come and gone in her cheek as she made her small joke. Would the dimple have offset her red nose and puffy face? Somehow Mel doubted it.

Mel focused on him, too. It was difficult not to because the man was top-to-toe gorgeous. Tall, a little over six feet to her five feet four and beautifully lean. Mel blinked to try to clear her drowsy vision.

He’d spoken in that lovely accent, too. French? No, but something European, Mel thought, to go with his tanned skin and black hair and the almost regal way he carried himself. He had lovely shoulders, just broad enough that a woman could run her hands over them to appreciate their beauty, or lay her head to rest there and know she could feel secure.

He wore an understated, expensive-looking suit. That was a bit unusual for a cab service, wasn’t it? And his eyes—they weren’t hazel or brown but a glorious deep blue.

‘I just want to curl up.’ Maybe that explained her reaction to him because his broad shoulders looked more appealing by the moment.

‘Perhaps we’d better get your luggage loaded first, Nicol—’ The rest of the word was drowned by the double beep of a car’s unlocking device. He reached for the first two suitcases.

She must have given her full name of Nicole Melanie Watson when she booked the taxi. Since going to live with her aunt and uncle at age eight, Mel had only been known by her middle name. It felt strange to hear the first one again. Strange and a little shivery, because, even hearing only part of the word, his accent and the beautiful cadence of his voice made it sound special.

Oh, Mel. For goodness’ sake.

‘It’s a pretty set of luggage. I like the floral design.’ Was Mel making sense? She’d rescued the luggage when her cousin Nicolette had wanted to throw it out, but of course this man didn’t need to hear that. And she didn’t need to be quite so aware of him, either!

‘You wouldn’t lose the luggage easily. The design is quite distinctive.’ He cast her a sideways glance. ‘You are quite decided about this?’

‘I’m decided.’ Had he had people try to scam him out of fares? Mel would never do that. She knew what it was like to try to live on a tight budget. Her aunt and uncle might be well off, but they’d never seen the need to do more than meet the basic costs of taking her in. Once she reached working age, they’d expected her to return their investment by providing cheap kitchen labour. For the sake of her emotional health, Mel had to consider any debt paid now. ‘I won’t change my mind.’

She glanced to where he’d parked and saw, rather than a taxicab, an unmarked car. The cab agency had said there was a shortage of cabs but she hadn’t realised someone might come for her in their private car in their off-duty time. Wouldn’t that be against company policy?

And the car was a really posh one, all sleek dark lines and perfectly polished. That didn’t seem right for a cab driver, did it? How would he afford it? Mel frowned.

‘Did you come straight from a formal dinner or something?’ It must have been a really late night.

The words slipped out before she could censor them. The thought that followed worried her a little, but he’d have had sleep wouldn’t he? He looked rested.

You’ll be perfectly safe with him, Mel. It won’t be like—

She cut the thought off. That was a whole other cause of pain for Mel, and she didn’t want to let it in. The night had been tough enough.

‘Most dinners I attend are formal unless I have a night with my brothers.’ Rikardo spoke decisively and yet … his guest didn’t look as he’d expected. She didn’t … seem as he’d expected. Her openness and almost a sense of naivety … must be because she wasn’t feeling well.

He tucked the odd thoughts away, and tucked his passenger into the front seat beside his. ‘You may rest, if you wish. Perhaps by the time we arrive at the airport your allergy medication will have done its job and you’ll be back to normal.’

‘I doubt that. I feel as though I’ve been felled by elephant medicine.’ She yawned again. ‘Excuse me. I can’t seem to stop.’

He’d collected a drowsy and puffy version of Sleeping Beauty. That was what Prince Rikardo Eduard Ettonbierre thought as the airport formalities ended and he carried Nicolette Watson onto the royal private jet and lowered her into a seat.

She’d slept most of the way to the airport and right through the boarding process. The medication had indeed got the better of her, but she was still very definitely … a sleeping beauty.

Despite the puffy face she seemed to have held her age well since the days when she’d been part of his university crowd during his time in Australia. She’d been two years behind him, but he’d known even then that Nicolette wanted to climb to the heights of social success.

Though their paths had not crossed since those days, Nicolette had made it a point to send Christmas cards, mark his birthday, invite him as her personal guest to various events, and in other ways to keep her name in front of him. Rik had felt awkward about that pursuit. He didn’t really know what to say now, to explain his lack of response to all those overtures.

Perhaps it was better to leave that alone and focus on what they were about to achieve. He’d carefully considered several women for this task. In the end he’d chosen to ask Nicolette. He’d known there would be no chance he would fall for her romantically, and because of her ambitious nature he’d been confident she would agree to the plan. She’d been the sensible choice.

Rik had been right about Nicolette. When he’d contacted her, she’d jumped at this opportunity to elevate her social status. And rather than someone closer by, who might continue to brush constantly through his social circles once this was all over, when their agreement ended, Rik could return Nicolette to Australia.

‘You should have allowed me to carry her, Your Highness.’ One of his bodyguards murmured the words not quite in chastisement, but in something close to it. ‘Even driving a car by yourself to get her—You haven’t given us sufficient information about this journey to allow us to properly provide for your safety.’

‘There is nothing further to be revealed just at the moment, Fitz.’ Rik would deal with the eruption of public and royal interest in due course but there was no need for that just yet. ‘And you know I like to get behind the wheel any time I can. Besides, I let you follow in a second car and park less than a block away. Try not to worry.’ Rik offered a slight smile. ‘As for carrying her, wasn’t it more important for you to have your hands free in case of an emergency?’

The man grimaced before he conceded. ‘You are correct, Prince Rikardo.’

‘I am correct occasionally.’ Rik grinned and settled into his seat beside Nicolette.

Was he mad to enter into this kind of arrangement to outwit his father, the king? Rik had enjoyed his combination of hard work and fancy-free social life for the past ten years. As third in line to the throne, he’d seen no reason to change that state of affairs any time soon, if at all. But now …

There were deeper reasons than that for your reluctance. Your parents’ marriage …

His bodyguard moved away, and Rik pushed that thought away, too. He wasn’t crazy. He was taking action. On these thoughts Rik turned his attention to the sleeping woman. Her hair fell in a soft honey-blonde curtain. Though her face still showed the ravages of her allergy problem, her features were appealing.

Long thick brown eyelashes covered eyes that he knew were a warm brown colour. She had soft pink lips, a slim straight nose and pretty rounded cheeks. She looked younger in the flesh than in the photo she’d emailed, than Rik had thought she would look now …

She sighed and Rik had an unexpected urge to gently kiss her. It was a strange reaction to what was, in the end, a business arrangement with a woman he’d never have chosen to know more than peripherally if not for this. A response perhaps brought on because she seemed vulnerable right now. When she woke from this sleep she would be once again nothing but the ladder-climbing socialite he’d approached, and this momentary consciousness would be gone.

The pilot commenced take-off. Rik’s guest stirred, fought for a moment to wake. Her hand rose to her cheek.

‘You may sleep, Nicolette. Soon enough we will take the next step.’ He said it in his native Braston tongue, and frowned again as the low words emerged. He rarely spoke in anything but French or English, unless to one of the older villagers or palace staff.

Nicolette turned her head into the seat. Her lashes stopped fluttering and she sighed. She’d cut her hair too, since the emailed photo she’d sent him. The shoulder-length cut went well with the flattering feminine skirt and silk top she wore with a short cardigan tied in a knot at her waist. The clothing would be nowhere near warm enough for their arrival in Braston, but that would be taken care of.

Rik made his chair comfortable, did the same for his sleeping guest, and took his rest while he could find it. When Nicolette sighed again in her sleep and her head came to rest on his shoulder, Rik shifted to make sure she was comfortable, inhaled the soft scent of a light, citrus perfume, and put down the feeling of contentment to knowing he was soon to take a step to get his country’s economy back on its feet, and outwit his father, King Georgio, at the same time. Put like that, why wouldn’t Rik feel content?

‘You had an uneventful flight, I hope, Your Highness?’

‘Not too much longer and we’ll be able to disembark, Prince Rikardo.’

Mel woke to voices, snippets of conversation in English and another language and the low, lovely tones of her taxi driver responding regally while something soft and light and beautifully warm was draped around her shoulders.

‘What—?’ Heart pounding, she sat up abruptly.

This wasn’t a commercial flight.

There were no rows of passengers, just some very well-dressed attendants who all seemed to make her taxi driver the centre of attention in a revering kind of way.

Mel’s allergy was gone. The effects of the medication had worn off. That was good, but it also meant she couldn’t be hallucinating right now.

She had vague memories of sleeping … on an accommodating shoulder.

Yet she didn’t remember even boarding a flight!

This plane was luxurious. It had landed somewhere. Outside it was dark rather than the sunshiny day she’d looked forward to in Melbourne, and Mel could feel freezing air coming in through the aperture where another attendant waited for a set of steps to be wheeled to the edge of the plane.

She should be feeling Sydney summer air.

Memory of that expensive-looking car rose. Had she been kidnapped? Tension coiled in her tummy. If anything was wrong, she’d left a note saying she was moving to Sydney. Her relatives might be angry to lose their underpaid cook, but she doubted that they would go looking for her. Not at the expense of their time or resources.

Breathe, Melanie. Pull yourself together and think about this.

The driver had asked her if she was ‘sure about this’. As though they already had an arrangement? That would make it unlikely that she’d been kidnapped.

But they didn’t have an arrangement!

Mel turned her head sharply, and looked straight into the stunning gaze of the man who’d placed her in that car.

She’d thought, earlier, that he was attractive. Now Mel realised he was also a man of presence and charisma. All those around him seemed to almost feel as though … they were his servants?

Words filtered through to Mel again. French words and, among those words, ‘Prince Rikardo’.

They were addressing her driver as a prince?

That was easy, then, Mel thought a little hysterically. She’d fallen down a rabbit hole into some kind of alternative world. Any moment now she would sprout sparkling red shoes. That’s two different fairy tales, Mel. Actually it’s a fairy tale and a classic movie. Oh, as though that mattered! Yet in this moment, this particular rabbit hole felt all too real. And maybe there’d been a book first, anyway.

Stop it!

‘You’re fully refreshed? How are the allergies? You slept almost twenty-four hours. I hope the rest helped you.’

Did kidnappers sound calm, rational and solicitous?

Mel drew a breath, said shakily and with an edge of uncertainty she couldn’t entirely hide, ‘I feel a bit exhausted. The allergies are gone. I guess I slept them off while we travelled between Melbourne and … ?’

‘Braston.’ He spoke the word with a slight dip of his head.

‘Right. Yes. Braston.’ A small country planted deep in the heart of Europe. Mel had heard of it. She didn’t really know anything about it. She certainly shouldn’t be anywhere near it. ‘I’m just not quite sure—You see, I thought I’d be flying from Melbourne to Sydney—’

‘We were able to fly very directly.’ He leaned towards her and surprised her by taking her hand. ‘You don’t need to be nervous or concerned. Just stick to what we’ve agreed and let me do the talking around my father, the king.’

‘K-king.’ As in, a king who was the father of a prince? As in, this man, Rikardo, was a prince? A royal prince of Braston?

Stick with the issue at hand, Mel. Why are you here? That’s the question you need answered.

‘You are different somehow to what I have remembered.’ His words were thoughtful.

‘Remembered from our drive to the airport? I don’t understand.’ Her words should have emerged in a strong tone. Instead they were a nervous croak drowned by the clatter of a baggage trolley being wheeled closer to the plane.

Well, this was not the time for Mel to impersonate a scaredy frog waiting to be kissed into reassurance by a handsome prince.

Will you stop with the fairy-tale metaphors already, Melanie!

‘You’re nervous. I understand. I’ll walk you through this process. Just rely on me, and it will be easy for both of us to honour our agreement.’

Mel drew a deep breath. ‘Seriously, about this “agreement”. There’s been—’

‘Your Highness, if you and your guest would please come this way.’ An attendant waved them forward.

The prince, Rikardo, took Mel’s elbow, tucked the wonderful warm wrap more snugly about her shoulders, and escorted her to the steps and down them onto the tarmac.

Icy wind whipped at Mel’s hair and stung her face but, inside the wrap, she remained warm. Floodlights lit the small, private airstrip. A retinue of people waited just off the tarmac.

Mel had an overwhelming urge to turn around and climb back onto the plane. She might not be down a rabbit hole, but she was definitely Alice in Crazyland. None of this would have happened if she’d been completely herself when she ordered that ride to the airport and believed it had arrived. Mel would never take someone else’s medication again, even if it were just an over-the-counter one that anyone could buy!

‘Please. Prince … Your Highness …‘ As she spoke they moved further along the tarmac. ‘There truly has been some kind of mistake.’

What could have happened? As Mel asked the silent question puzzle pieces started to come together.

If he’d called at the right address, then he had expected to collect a woman from there.

Her cousin had been in a strange mood, filled with secrecy and frenetic energy. At the end of the dinner party, Nicolette had rushed to her room and started rummaging around in there. Had Nicolette been … packing for a trip?

Rik had said he’d arrived earlier than he’d expected to. That would explain Nicolette not being ready. Mel had thought that he’d called her by her first name of Nicole, but it could have easily been ‘Nicolette’ that he said. She and her cousin looked heaps alike. Horror started to dawn. ‘It must have been Nicolette—’

‘Allow me to welcome you on to Braston soil, Nicolette.’ Rikardo, Prince Rikardo, spoke at the same time. He stopped. ‘Excuse me?’

Oh. My. God.

He’d mistaken Mel for Nicolette. Mel’s cousin had made some kind of plan with this man. That meant Rikardo really was a prince. Of this country! As in, royalty who had made an arrangement with Nicolette.

Mel, the girl who’d worked in her aunt and uncle’s kitchen for years, was standing here in a foreign country with an heir to the throne, when it was her cousin who should be here for whatever reasons she should be here. How could the prince not realise the mistake? Surely he’d have seen that Mel wasn’t Nicolette, even in dawn light and with Mel affected by allergies? Just how well did this prince know Nicolette?

Yes, Mel? And how many times has Nicolette become furious when one of her acquaintances mistook you for her when they called at the house?

‘Unless we’re in the public eye, please just call me Rik.’ He hustled her into the rear of another waiting car and climbed in beside her. A man in a dark suit climbed into the front, spoke a few words to the prince in French, and set the vehicle in motion.

The prince added, ‘Or Rikardo.’

‘You probably have five given names and are heir to a whole lot of different dukedoms or things like that.’ Mel sucked up a breath. ‘I do watch the news and see the royal families coming and going.’ She just hadn’t seen this particular royal. ‘The most famous ones. What I mean is, I’m not an overt royal-watcher, but I’m also not completely uninformed.’

Which made her sound like some kind of overawed hick who wouldn’t have a clue how to behave in such august company. Exactly what Mel was! ‘Please … Prince … Rik … I need to speak to you. It’s urgent!’

‘We have arrived, Your Highness.’ The words, spoken in careful English, came again from the driver.

He’d drawn the car to a whisper-quiet halt and now held the door open for them to alight. Rikardo would get out first, of course, because he was, after all, a prince.

A burst of something a little too close to hysteria rose inside Mel’s breast.

‘Thank you, Artor, and also for speaking in English for the benefit of our guest.’ Rikardo helped Mel from the car. He glanced down into her face. ‘I know you may be nervous but once we get inside I will take you to our suite of rooms and you can relax and not feel so pressured.’

‘S-straight to the rooms? We won’t see anyone?’ Well, of course they would see people. They were seeing people right now. And what did he mean by their suite? ‘Can we talk when we get there? Please!’

‘Yes, we will talk. It shouldn’t be necessary at this late stage, but we will discuss whatever is concerning you.’ He seemed every inch the royal as he said this, and rather forbidding.

Mel’s stomach sank even further. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. She hadn’t meant to do anything other than take a taxi to the airport. She had to hope it would be relatively easy to fix the mistake that had been made.

Rik whisked her up an awe-inspiring set of steps that led to a pair of equally stunning studded doors. As they approached the doors were thrown open, as though someone had been watching from within.

They would have been, wouldn’t they? Mel glanced up, and up again, and still couldn’t see the ending of the outside of this enormous palace. Parts of it were lit, other parts melted into the surrounding darkness. It looked as though it had been birthed here at the dawn of time. Mel shivered as the cold began to register, and then Prince Rik’s hand was at her back to propel her the final steps forward and inside.

Voices welcomed their prince. Members of the royal retinue of staff stood to attention while others stepped forward to take the prince’s coat, and Mel’s wrap.

How silly to feel as though the small of her back physically held the imprint of the prince’s fingers. Yet if he hadn’t been supporting her Mel might have fainted from the combination of anxiety and feeling overwhelmed by the opulence.

The area they entered was large, reaching up three levels with ornate cornicing and inlaid life-sized portraits of royal family members fixed into the walls. A bronze statue stood to one side on a raised dais. Creams and gold and red filled the foyer with warm resplendence. It would be real gold worth more than an entire jewellery store.

‘Welcome to the palace.’ Rik leaned closer to speak quietly into Mel’s ear.

‘Thank you. That is …‘ Mel’s breath caught in her throat as she became suddenly very aware of his closeness.

She’d laid her head on his shoulder, had slept the hours of the flight away inhaling the scent of his cologne. On some level of consciousness, Mel knew the pace of his breathing, knew how it felt to have him sleep with his ear tucked against the top of her head. The feel of the cloth of his suit coat against her arm, his body warmth reaching her through the fabric.

For a moment consciousness and subconscious memory, nearness and scent and whatever else it was that had made her aware of him even initially through a fog of medication, filled Mel. She forgot the vital need to explain to him that he’d made a mistake and she had, too. She forgot everything but his nearness, and the uneven beat of her heart.

And then Prince Rikardo of Braston spoke again, softly, for her ears only.

‘Thank you for agreeing to help me fulfil my father’s demands and yet maintain my freedom … by temporarily marrying me.’

CHAPTER TWO

‘THERE’S been a terrible mistake.’ Rik’s bride-to-be paced the sitting room of his personal suite. Tension edged her words. One hand gestured. ‘ I don’t belong here. I’m not the right girl. Look at all this, and I’m—’

‘You won’t be staying here all that long.’ Not for ever. A few months … Rik tried to understand her unease. She’d been fully willing to enter into this arrangement. Why suffer a bout of cold feet about it now? She’d stepped into his suite, taken one glance around and had launched into speech.

‘This is an interlude,’ he said, ‘nothing more.’ And one they’d agreed upon, even if she hadn’t yet signed the official contract. Rik’s aide had the paperwork in a safe place, but it was ready and waiting, and Nicolette had made it clear that she was, too. So what had changed?

She drew a shuddery breath. ‘This is gilt and gold and deep red velvet drapes and priceless original artworks and cornices in enormous entryways that take my breath away. This is more than a rabbit hole and a golden pumpkin coach and a few other fables meshed together. This is—’ Her brown-eyed gaze locked with his and she said hotly as though it were the basis of evil: ‘You’re a prince!’

‘My royal status is no surprise to you.’ What did surprise Rik was how attractive he found the sparkle in her eyes as indignation warred with guilt and concern on her lovely face. He’d never responded this way to Nicolette. He didn’t want to now. This was a business arrangement. His lack of attraction to Nicolette was one of the reasons he’d chosen her. It would be easy to end their marriage and walk away.

So no more thoughts such as those about her, Rik!

‘But it is a surprise. I mean, it wouldn’t be if I’d already read about you in a magazine or something and I certainly completely believe you.’ Shaking fingers tucked her hair behind her ear.

She didn’t even sound like the woman he remembered. She sounded more concerned somehow, and almost a little naïve.

A frown started on his brow. He’d put down her openness, the blurting of a secret or two to him when he collected her, to the influence of the allergy medication. But that had worn off now. Suspicion, a sense of something not right, formed deep in his gut. He took a step towards her, studied her face more closely and wished he had taken more notice of Nicolette’s features years ago. Those freckles on her nose—? ‘Why do you seem different?’

‘Because I’m not who you think I am,’ she blurted, and drew a sharp breath. Silence reigned for a few seconds as she seemed to gather herself together and then she squared her shoulders. ‘My full name is Nicole Melanie Watson.’

‘Nicole …‘

‘Yes.’ She rushed on. ‘I’m known as Melanie and have been since I went to live with my aunt, uncle, and cousin Nicolette when I was eight years old. Nicolette would fit right in here. I’ve tried to figure this out since I woke up in your private jet and realised I wasn’t at Sydney airport about to get off a plane there and go find a hostel to stay in while I searched for work because I could no longer stay—’

She broke off abruptly.

Sydney airport? Hostel? Search for work? There was something else about her statement, too, but Rik lost the thought as he focused on the most immediate concerns.

‘I am not certain I understand you.’ His tone as he delivered this statement was formal—his way of throwing up his guard. ‘Are you trying to tell me—?’

‘I think you meant to collect Nicolette and you got me by mistake. I don’t see what else could have happened. When you said my name before, I thought you said Nicole, not Nicolette. I thought I must have given my full name when I ordered the taxi.’

‘If what you say is correct …‘ Rik’s eyes narrowed. Could this be true? That he’d collected the wrong woman? ‘I haven’t seen Nicolette for a number of years, just a photo sent over the Internet. I thought when I collected you that you’d changed and that you looked younger than expected. If you are not Nicolette at all—Do you look a great deal like your cousin?’ He rapped out the words.

‘Y-yes, at least a fair amount. And I sound like her. It really annoys her. Acquaintances do it all the time when they come to the house. Mistake us for each other, I mean.’ The woman—Melanie—wrung her hands together. ‘This is all just a horrible mix-up. I was zonked out on medication, and waiting at the kerb for my ride to the airport to start a whole new life and you took me instead of taking Nicolette, who probably should have been waiting but she’s never on time for anything, and you said you were early.’

Horror came over her face. ‘Nicolette will be furious at me when she finds out what’s happened.’

‘It is not up to your cousin to take out any negative feelings on you if a mistake has been made.’ A thought occurred to him. ‘While I thought you were your cousin, you … mistook me for a taxi service?’

‘I didn’t know then that you were a prince!’

Did his lips twitch? She sounded so horrified, and Rik had to admit the idea of being mistaken for a cab driver was rather unique. His amusement faded, however, as the seriousness of the problem returned to the forefront of his thoughts. He didn’t notice the way his face eased into gentleness as he briefly touched her arm.

‘I’m sure there’ll be a solution to this problem.’ He bent his thoughts to coming up with that solution. He had planned all this, worked everything out. And after a long flight to get to Australia from Braston … he’d collected a cousin he’d never heard of, who had no idea of his marriage plans, the bargain Rik had struck with his father, King Georgio, or the ways in which Rik intended to adhere to that bargain but very much on his terms.

If he couldn’t straighten this all out, his error could cost him the whole plan, and that in turn could cost the people of Braston who truly needed help. Rik held himself substantially responsible for that need.

‘It’s kind of you not to want to blame me.’ She spoke the words in a low, quiet tone and gazed almost with an edge of disbelief at him through a screen of thick dark lashes.

As though she didn’t expect to be given a fair hearing, or she expected to be blamed for what had happened whether she was in the wrong or not.

‘There’s no reason to blame you, Nicol—Melanie.’ For some reason, Rik couldn’t shift his gaze from the surprised and thoughtful expression in her eyes.

She looked as though she didn’t quite feel safe here. Or did she always carry that edge of self-protectiveness, that air of not knowing if she was entirely welcomed and if she could let down her guard?

Rik had lived much of his life with his guard firmly in place. As a royal, that was a part of his life. But he knew who he was, where he fitted in the world. This young woman looked as though she should be happy and carefree. She had said she’d been about to start a new life. What had happened to make her come to that decision? To leave her family at dawn with all her suitcases packed?

Had Nicolette contributed to that sudden exit on Melanie’s part?

You have other matters to sort out that are of more immediate concern.

Rik did, but he still felt protective of this young woman. She’d suddenly found herself on the other side of the world in a strange place. A little curiosity towards her was to be expected, too. He’d collected a stranger. Naturally he would want to understand just who this stranger was.

He would need her help and co-operation to resolve this problem, and she would need his reassurance. ‘This doesn’t have to be an insurmountable difficulty. If I can get you back out of the palace, keep you away from my father and create a suitable story to explain that bringing my fiancée home took two trips …‘

‘It seems such a strange thing to do in the first place, to marry someone for a brief period knowing you’re going to end the marriage. Why do it at all if that’s the case? How well do you know my cousin?’ The words burst out of Mel as she watched Prince Rikardo come to terms with the problem of a girl who shouldn’t be here, and one who should be and wasn’t.

She felt overwrought and stressed out. What would happen to her plans now? Mel needed to be in Sydney looking for work. Not here suffering from a case of mistaken identity.

And then she realised that she’d just questioned a prince, and perhaps not all that nicely because she did feel worried and uneasy and just a little bit threatened and scared about the future. ‘I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean that to sound disrespectful. I guess I’m just looking for answers.’

‘Your cousin is a past acquaintance from my university days in Australia who has kept in touch now and then remotely over the years since.’

So he didn’t know Nicolette closely, had potentially never really known her. But he’d said he intended to marry her, albeit briefly. Mel’s mind boggled at the potential reasons for that. Nicolette had hugged the secret close. Maybe she’d been told she had to? What was in it for Mel’s cousin?

Well, even if it were to be a brief marriage, Nicolette would for ever be able to say she’d been a princess. Mel’s cousin would love that. It would open even more doors socially to her. That left what was in it for Prince Rikardo?

‘This must all seem quite strange to you, to suddenly find yourself here when you thought you were headed for Sydney, wasn’t it?’ His voice deepened. ‘To start a new life?’

‘I did say that, didn’t I? When I thought you were a taxi driver and blabbed half my life story at you.’ She drew a breath. ‘I also meant no insult by thinking that you were a taxi driver.’

‘None was taken.’ He paused.

Did he notice that she dodged his question about starting a new life? Mel didn’t want to go into that.

‘Let me get the wheels in motion to start rectifying this situation,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll discuss how this happened.’

For a blink of time as he spoke those words Mel saw pure royalty. Privileged, powerful. He would not only fix this problem, he would also have his answers. He’d said he didn’t blame her, that it wasn’t her fault. But Mel couldn’t be as self-forgiving. She should have realised something was amiss. There’d been signs. An unmarked car; a driver not in uniform; even the fact that he’d tucked her in the front of the cab beside him rather than expecting her to get in the back. Of course he would demand his answers. Had she really thought she would get off without having to face that side of it?

Would she in turn learn more of why he’d chosen her cousin for this interaction? ‘Yes, of course you’ll need to set wheels in motion, to contact Nicolette and sort out how to get her here as quickly as possible. I’m more than willing to simply be sent to Sydney. You can put me on any flight, I don’t mind. I don’t need to see my cousin again.’ She didn’t want to see Nicolette again and be brought to account for all of this, and for choosing to leave the family without a moment’s notice, because Mel wouldn’t go back.

What did Prince Rikardo see in Nicolette?

He didn’t have to see anything.

Or maybe he liked what little he knew of Mel’s cousin and they could conduct this transaction between them and perhaps even become firm friends afterwards. Nicolette could be charming when it suited her. There’d been times over the years when she’d charmed Mel. Not lately, though.

Mel searched Rikardo’s gaze once more. Though his mind must be racing, he didn’t appear at all unnerved. How could he portray such an aura of strength? Did it come as part of his training in the royal family? An odd little shiver went down her spine and her breath caught. What would it be like, to be a prince such as Rikardo Ettonbierre? Or to be … truly in Nicolette’s shoes, about to marry him, even if briefly?

Are you sure that his strength is simply a result of his position, his royal status, Melanie?

No. There was something in Rikardo Ettonbierre’s make-up that would have demanded those answers regardless, and got them whether he’d ever been trained to his heritage, or not. That would have shown strength, not uncertainty, no matter what.

‘We will make all the necessary arrangements. If we do it quickly—’ Rikardo strode towards a phone handset on an ornate side table. He lifted the phone and spoke into it. ‘Please ask my aide to attend me in my suite as soon as possible. I have some work for him to do. Thank you.’ He had just replaced the receiver when a knock sounded on the door.

‘That’s too soon to be my aide,’ he murmured. ‘It will be our dinner. You must be hungry.’

The door opened. Members of staff entered bearing covered dishes. Aromas filled the room and made Mel realise just how long it had been since she’d eaten.

‘The food smells delicious.’ She’d always cooked the meals, not had them brought to her on silver salvers. ‘I have to confess I am quite hungry.’

‘That is good to hear.’

Rather than from Rikardo, the words came in a more mature yet equally commanding voice. The owner of that voice stepped into the room, a man in his early sixties with black hair greying at the temples, deep blue eyes and the power, by his presence alone, to strike dumb every staff member in the room.

Mel hadn’t even needed that impact to identify him, nor the similarities to the prince. All she’d needed was one look at Rikardo’s face, at the way it closed up into a careful mask that covered and protected every thought.

The king had just walked in.

This was the worst thing that could have happened right now. They’d needed to keep her, Melanie, out of sight of this man. Mel’s breath froze in her throat and her gaze flew to Rik’s. What did they do now? She caught a flash of a trapped look on Rikardo’s face before he smoothed it away.

Somehow that glimpse of humanness opened up a wealth of fellow feeling in Mel. She had to help Rik out of this dilemma. She didn’t even realise that she’d thought of him as Rik, not Rikardo.

The king’s gaze fixed on her, examining, studying. He’d spoken to her. Sort of. Mel didn’t know whether or not to respond.

‘Indeed, Father, and it is fortuitous that you are here.’ Rik stepped forward. He didn’t block his father’s view of Mel, but he drew the king’s attention away from her. ‘I would like a word with you regarding the truffle harvest, if you please.’

The older man’s eyes narrowed. He frowned in his son’s direction and said: ‘It pleases me to know my future daughter-in-law will eat a meal rather than pretend a lack of appetite to try to maintain a waif-thin figure.’

Waif-thin figure?

Mel worked in a kitchen. She might have been underpaid, but she’d never been hungry. Was it usual for kings to speak their minds like this?

There was another problem, though. Even Mel, with her lack of understanding of royal protocols, could guess that it wasn’t appropriate for Rikardo not to introduce her to his father, even if the king had surprised them in Rik’s suite.

Should she introduce herself? Why hadn’t Rikardo done that?

Because you’re not who you should be, Melanie. How is he supposed to introduce you without either telling the truth or lying? Neither option will work just at the moment.

And anyway, why don’t you interview all the kings you’re on a first-name basis with, and collate the responses to discover a mean average and then you’ll know whether they all speak bluntly?

She wasn’t thinking hysterically exactly, Mel told herself.

Just don’t say anything. Well, not anything bad. Be really, really careful about what you say, or, better still, stay completely silent and hope that Rikardo takes care of this. Didn’t he say earlier if you came across his father to let Rik do all the talking?

Yes, but that was before he realised Mel wasn’t Nicolette. His father didn’t know that, though, and now the king had spotted Melanie. Not only spotted her but spoken to her and had a really good look at her. And if she didn’t respond soon, the king might think—

‘Your Highness.’ Mel sank into what she hoped was an acceptable style of curtsy. She tried not to catch the older man’s gaze, and hoped that her voice might pass for Nicolette’s next time.

Rikardo had mistaken Melanie for Nicolette. But she’d been puffed up with allergies then. Rikardo strode towards the door of his suite.

At the door, he turned to face Mel. ‘If you will excuse us? Please go ahead and eat dinner.’ He asked one of the kitchen staff to let his aide know they would speak after Rikardo finished with the king. From outside, Rikardo called in another member of staff. ‘Please also show my guest her rooms.’

In about another minute, the king would be out of here. Mel could stop holding her breath and worrying about what she might reveal to the king that could cause problems for when Nicolette arrived.

Mel glanced into Rikardo’s eyes and nodded, acknowledging that he intended to leave.

Rikardo swept out of the room and swept his father along with him, even if he was the king.

Melanie thanked the staff for the delivery of the meal. She felt their curious gazes on her, too, and she would have liked to strike up a conversation, to ask what it was like to work in the kitchens of a palace. Instead, she kept her gaze downcast and kept the interaction as brief as she could.

The rooms she would use were lavish. Mel could barely take it all in.

And then finally she was alone.

So she could sit at the royal dining table in Prince Rikardo’s suite that had its own guest suite within it, and eat royal food while she waited for the prince to have his discussion with his father about truffle harvesting. She hadn’t known the country grew truffles.

But that wouldn’t be all of the conversation and it would no doubt be difficult for the prince, but then Rikardo would come back here and tell Melanie his plans, and somehow or other it would all be all right.

Mel turned to the dining table, looked at the array of dishes. She would eat so at least she had some energy inside her to deal with whatever came next.

It would be all right. Rikardo was a prince. He would be able to make anything right.

CHAPTER THREE

RIK stood by the window in the sitting area of his suite. Early sunlight filtered across the snowy landscape of mountains and valleys, and over Ettonbierre village below. Soon people would begin to move around, to go about their work—those who had enough work.

He had once liked this time best of all, the solitude before the day’s commitments took over. Today, his thoughts were already embroiled and his aide already on his way to Rik’s suite to discuss yet another matter of urgency. The past two years had been problem after problem. Rik’s marriage plans had been part of the solution, or so he had believed. Now …

He had spoken to his father last night. It hadn’t been the greatest conversation he’d ever had; it had taken too long, and at the end of it he had known the impossibility of trying to bring Nicolette out here now to pass her off as his fiancée.

Really he’d known that from the moment Melanie had told him he’d collected the wrong girl. Too many people had seen her. Then Rik’s father had seen her. She had tried not to be too noticeable, too recognisable. But the king had noticed. Right down to the three freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose.

Rik had whisked his father out of his suite. He’d bought a little time to come up with a solution before his father formally met his fiancée. But in the end there was only one solution.

A soft knock sounded on the outer door of his suite. Rik strode towards it. He didn’t believe in the edict that a prince should not do such menial things as open doors to his staff. He and his brothers all worked on behalf of the people of Braston one way or another, so why wouldn’t they open a door?

And now you all have a challenge to fulfil. The prize is that your father will come out of his two-year disconnection from the world around him, caused by the queen moving out and refusing to return, and co-operate to enable the economy here to be healed.

‘Good morning, Prince Rikardo.’ His aide stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. ‘My apologies for disturbing you at this hour.’

‘And mine for disturbing you late last night.’ Rik gave a wry twist of his lips. ‘To examine an emailed photograph, no less.’

And the passport of Nicole Melanie, which had been handled by one of his retinue of attendants when they arrived at the airport with his guest deeply asleep.

Nicole, not Nicolette. Only Rik could have spotted that mistake and he’d been otherwise occupied at the time.

‘But with a purpose, Your Highness. It is unfortunate that the two women do not look enough alike to ensure we could safely swap them.’ Dominico Rhueldt drew a breath. ‘I have carried out your wishes and transferred the funds from your personal holdings to the bank account of Nicolette Watson, and ordered the set from the hand-crafted collection of the diamond jeweller, Luchino Montichelli. It will be delivered to Nicolette within two days.’

The man hesitated. ‘Your Highness, I am concerned about the amount of money going out of your holdings towards relief to the people. I know they are in need—’

‘And while I have the ability I will go on meeting needs, but that doesn’t fix the underlying problems.’ Rik sighed. It was an old conversation. ‘Nicolette. She is happy with this … buy-off?’

A gift of baubles and a cash injection in exchange for her acceptance of the changed circumstances, and her silence.

Though Rik’s question referred to the woman he’d organised to briefly marry, he struggled to shift his thoughts from the one he’d carried onto a plane recently.

He glanced at the closed door of his guest suite. Last night when he’d got back, he’d tucked the covers over Melanie. She’d been curled up on the bed in a ball as though not quite sure she had a right to be there. Sleeping Beauty waiting to be woken by a kiss.

The nonsense thoughts had come to him last night. A result of tiredness and the suppression of stress, Rik had concluded. Yet the vision of her curled up there was still with him. The desire to taste softly parted lips, still there. He’d been absorbed in Braston’s problems lately. Perhaps it had been too long since he took care of those other needs.

His aide rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. When he spoke again, his words were in French, not English. ‘Nicolette acknowledged the payment and the order of the diamond jewellery as her due as a result of the changed circumstances. She accepts the situation but it is good, I think, that she will be unaware of any other plans you may intend to implement until such time—’

‘Yes.’ If ‘such time’ was something Rik could bring about.

‘The other matter of urgency,’ his aide went on, ‘is unfortunately, the truffle crop.’

Rik swung about from where he’d been half gazing out of the windows. One search of Dominico’s face and Rik stepped forward. ‘Tell me.’

‘Winnow is concerned about the soil in one of the grove areas. He feels it looks as it did last year before the blight struck again.’

‘He’s tested it? What is the result? We were certain we’d prevented any possibility of this happening this year. The crop is almost ready for harvest!’ Rik rapped the words out as he strode to his suite. He stepped into the walk-in closet and selected work wear. Khaki trousers, thick shirt and sweater, and well-worn work boots. A very un-princely outfit that his mother would have criticised had she been here to do so. Rik started to shuck clothes so he could don the new ones.

His aide spoke from a few feet away. ‘Winnow is doing the testing now.’

‘I will examine the soil myself and speak with Winnow.’ Rik laced his boots and strode into the sitting room.

‘Your guest?’ Dominico also glanced towards the closed door of the guest suite. ‘Shall I wake her? Inform her of your immediate plans?’

‘Allow her to sleep on while she has the chance. She had a long and difficult day before we arrived here. Please ask, though, that Rufusina be prepared to go with me to the groves.’

Melanie heard these words faintly through a closed door. She shifted in the luxurious bed, opened her eyes to a canopied pelmet draped above her head, and remembered curling up for just a moment while she waited for Prince Rikardo to return from speaking with his father. Now she was under the covers. Still in her clothes, but as though someone had covered her up to make sure she’d be comfortable. And that was Rik’s voice out there, and it sounded as though he was about to go out.

Who was Rufusina?

‘I’m getting up.’ The words emerged in a hoarse croak. She cleared her throat, sat up, and quickly climbed out of bed. And called more loudly. ‘Prince—Your Highness—I’m awake. I’m sorry I fell asleep before you got back last night. I’ll be out in five minutes. I won’t keep you waiting.’

Only after she called the words did Mel realise how they might have sounded to members of staff if any were out there with him, and, given he’d just spoken to someone, they probably were.

Heat rushed into her face, and then she felt doubly silly because she hadn’t meant the words in that way, and the staff wouldn’t care anyway, surely. And Rikardo would send her back to Australia today so none of this would be her problem for much longer.

Mel stopped in her headlong dash to the bathroom and wondered where the burst of disappointment had come from.

From being in a real live palace for a night and having to go home now, she told herself. And perhaps just the tiniest bit because she wouldn’t have the chance to get to know Rikardo better.

‘That’s Prince Rikardo to you, Melanie Watson, and why would he want to get to know you? You’re a cook. Not even a formally qualified one. You’re not even in his realm.’ She whispered the words and quickly set about putting herself together so she wouldn’t keep the prince waiting.

Well, she was in his realm—literally right now. But in terms of having anything in common, she didn’t exactly fit here, did she? No doubt he would want to speak to her sooner, rather than later, to tell her how he would get rid of her and how soon Nicolette would arrive to make everything as it was supposed to be.

That would be fine. Mel would co-operate fully. She only wanted to be sent home so she could get on with her life! Preferably avoiding contact with Nicolette in the process.

Outside in the sitting area, Rik’s gaze caught with his aide’s. ‘I cannot be in two places at once right now. It would be rude to abandon Melanie now that she is awake, but breakfast must be offered, and I need to get to the groves.’

‘Permit me to suggest a picnic breakfast for you and your guest after you have attended the groves. It would be easily enough arranged.’ Dominico, too, glanced at the closed door of the guest suite. ‘You might have a nice, quiet place in mind?’

Rik named a favourite place. ‘That would be convenient to speak to Melanie there and see if she can find her way clear—’

‘I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.’ The guest in question pushed her suite door open and stepped into Rik’s sitting room.

Rik’s head turned.

His aide’s head turned.

There were appropriate words to be uttered to help her to feel comfortable, to extend grace. Rik wanted to do these things, to offer these things, but for a moment the words stuck to the back of his tongue as he gazed upon the morning face of Melanie Watson.

Soft natural colour tinged her cheeks. She’d tied her hair back in some kind of half-twisted ponytail. Straight falls escaped to frame the sides of her face. She wore a long, layered brown corduroy skirt trimmed in gold, brown ankle boots with a short heel and rubber-soled tread, and a cream cashmere sweater. In her hands she held a wool-lined coat. Her lips bore a soft pink gloss and she’d darkened her lashes with a touch of mascara.

Her clothing was department or chain store, not designer. The hairstyle had not come at the expense of an exclusive salon or stylist but thanks to a single brown hair tie and a twist of her hands. Yet in those five minutes she had produced a result that had knocked Rik out of his comfort zone, an achievement some had striven for and failed to achieve, in various ways, in decades of his life.

‘You look lovely.’ The inadequate words passed across his lips. A thought quickly followed that startled him into momentary silence. He wanted his brothers to meet her.

Maybe they would, if either of them were around today. And maybe Melanie would be on her way back to Australia before any chance of such a meeting could occur.

He stepped forward, lifted her right hand in his, and softly brushed her fingers with his lips. ‘I hope you slept well and feel rested.’ He introduced his aide. ‘Dominico assists me with all my personal and many of my business dealings.’

In other words, his aide could be trusted utterly and was completely aware of their situation. At the moment, Dominico was more aware than Melanie.

Rik truly did need to speak with her, to set all matters straight as quickly as possible. He hoped that Melanie might co-operate to help him but it was a great deal to ask.

So much for your arrogant belief that you could outwit your father, still get all that you want, and not have to pay any price for it aside from the presence of a fiancée here for a few months.

Rik had collected the wrong woman and created a lot of trouble for himself.

So why did he feel distracted by the feel of soft skin against his lips? Why did he wish that he could get to know Melanie?

He pushed the thoughts aside. There was work to do. A truffle crop to bring to fruition disease-free, and a woman to take to breakfast. ‘Will you join me for a walk outdoors? I need to attend to some business and then I thought we might share a picnic breakfast. I know a spot that will be sheltered from wind and will catch the morning sunshine. We can speak privately and I can let you know the outcome of my discussion last night with my father.’

‘A—a picnic breakfast would be lovely, but is it all right for people to see me?’ Her balance wobbled just enough to make him think she might have been about to curtsy to him. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t still awake when you finished speaking with your father last night. It would have been okay to wake me up. I must have crawled under the covers.’

She hadn’t. Rik had tucked her in. Had paused to gaze at a face that seemed far too beautiful. He suspected it had occurred to her that he might have tucked her in. The flush in her face had deepened.

Rik realised he still had hold of her hand. He released it and stepped back. ‘It will indeed be fine. You are dressed well for the conditions. Shall we?’

Rikardo led Melanie through corridors and along passageways and past vast rooms with domed ceilings. Everywhere, staff worked with silent efficiency, going about their day’s tasks.

Without making it seem a big deal, he explained that she never needed to curtsy to anyone but his father or mother, and to them only in certain formal circumstances.

‘Am I likely to meet your mother this morning?’ Mel glanced about her and tried not to let an added dose of apprehension rise.

Rikardo shook his head. ‘No. The queen is away from the palace.’

‘Well, thank goodness for that, anyway,’ she blurted, and then grimaced.

But Rikardo merely murmured, ‘Indeed,’ and they fell silent.

In that silence, Melanie tried not to let her mind boggle at the thought that she was walking through a palace beside a prince, and feeling relieved not to be about to meet a queen, but it all did feel quite surreal. Rikardo nodded to a staff member here or there. He’d said it was fine to be seen out with him by anyone they came across, so Mel would take that at face value. He’d obviously come up with some explanation for her presence.

‘The kitchens here would be amazing.’ She almost whispered the words, but she could imagine how many staff might work there. The amazing meals they would prepare. Mel felt certain the royal staff wouldn’t have cake plates thrown at their heads as her cousin had done to her that final night.

Rikardo turned to glance at her. ‘You can see the kitchens later if you wish.’

Before she left for the airport. Mel reminded herself deliberately of this.

‘I didn’t know that Braston grew truffles. I probably should have known.’ She drew a breath. ‘I’ve never cooked with them. My relatives loved throwing dinner parties but they were too—’

She bit the words back. She’d been going to say ‘too stingy’ to feed their guests truffles.

‘Truffles have been referred to as the diamonds of the kitchen. Along with tourism they have represented the main two industries for Braston for some years now.’ Rik stepped forward and a man in liveried uniform opened the vast doors of the palace and suddenly they were outside in the morning sun with the most amazing vista unfolding all around.

‘Oh!’ Melanie’s breath caught in her throat. Everywhere she looked there were snow-capped mountains on the horizon. A beautiful gilded landscape dotted with trees, hills and valleys and sprinkled with snow spread before them. ‘I didn’t see any of this last night. Your country is very beautiful. I’m sure tourists would love to see it, too.’

‘It is beautiful, if small.’ Pride found its way into Rikardo’s voice. ‘But much of Europe is, and there are countries with more to offer to travellers. I would like to see an improvement in the tourist industry. If my brother Anrai has his way that will also happen very soon.’

Melanie liked his pride. Somehow that seemed exactly as it should be. And also the warmth in his tone as he referred to a brother. That hadn’t been there when he’d spoken about the king or the queen, and, even if she’d only met the king briefly and had tried not to catch his attention too much, Georgio did seem to be a combination of forthrightly spoken and austere that could strike a girl as quite formidable.

You could handle him. If you managed yourself among your aunt and uncle and cousin for that many years and held onto your sense of self worth, you can do anything.

It hadn’t hurt that Mel had set up a back-door arrangement and sent lots of cakes and desserts and meals out to a local charity kitchen to be shared among the masses. Her relatives never had caught on to that, and Mel had had the pleasure of giving away her cooking efforts to people who truly appreciated them.

Well, that life was over with now. Over the past year or so the family had forgotten to give her the kind moments that had balanced the rest. They had focused on the negative, and Mel had started saving to leave them. Now she just had to get back to Australia and to Sydney so she could start afresh.

It would be all right. She’d get work and be able to support herself. It didn’t matter if she started out with very little. She pushed aside fears that she might not be able to find work before her meagre savings ran out.

Instead, she turned to smile at Rikardo. He looked different out of doors and in profile in these surroundings, more rugged somehow.

Face it, Mel. He looks attractive no matter what light you see him in, and each new light seems to make you feel that he’s more attractive than the last one. And that moment of shared consciousness when she first stepped into his sitting room this morning. Had she imagined that?

Of course she’d imagined it. Why would a prince be conscious of … a kitchen hand? A cook. Same difference. They were both worlds away from being an heir to a kingdom.

‘We commercially grow black truffles here.’ Rikardo spoke in a calm tone. ‘If you are not aware of it, truffles have a symbiotic relationship with the roots of the trees they grow under.’

‘In this case oak trees,’ Melanie murmured while she tried to pull her thoughts together. Was he calm? If so, his threshold for dealing with problems must be quite high. ‘That’s what they are, isn’t it?’

Her glance shifted below them to the left where grove upon grove of trees stood in carefully tended rows. ‘I’d heard that truffles could be grown commercially in that way. I think in Tasmania—’

‘That’s correct, and, yes, they are indeed oak trees.’ He’d taken her arm, and now walked with her towards a grouping of …

Outbuildings? Was that a fine enough word for buildings within the palace grounds? There were garages with cars in them. Sports cars and other cars. Half a dozen at least. They all looked highly polished and valuable. They would go very fast.

Did the sun go in for just a moment? Mel turned her glance away. A man drove past them in one of the vehicles. Rik raised an arm as the driver slowed and tooted the horn before driving on. ‘That is Anrai.’

‘I thought he resembled you in looks.’ Except Rikardo was far more handsome. And having her arm held by him made Mel way too conscious of him.

Small talk, Mel. You’re supposed to be indulging in polite, get-to-know-you-but-don’t-be-nosy-about-it small talk. ‘How many brothers do you have?’

‘Just the two, both older than me and busy trying to achieve their own plans—’ He broke off.

A worker walked towards them, leading … a pig with a studded red collar around its neck. When the animal saw Rikardo, it snorted and almost pulled the worker over in its enthusiasm to get to the prince.

Rikardo looked down at the animal and then turned to Mel. ‘This is Rufusina. She is a truffle hog and will be coming to the groves with us this morning.’

‘This is Rufusina?’ For some reason Melanie had pictured a gorgeous woman in an ankle-length fur-lined coat with long flowing brown hair. Maybe the woman had known Rikardo for ever and had secretly wanted to marry him herself.

Can we say overactive imagination? Well, this was the perfect setting for an imagination to run wild in! Mel tried to refocus her thoughts. ‘She’s a very interesting-looking truffle hog. She looks very …‘

Porcine?

‘Very intelligent,’ Mel concluded.

‘I am sure that is the first thought that comes to all minds.’ For the second time since they’d met, Rikardo’s lips twitched. Though his words laughed at Mel just a little, they laughed at Rufusina, too, for there was a twinkle in his eye as he watched the hog strain at her leash to get to him, and succeed.

Rikardo then told the hog to ‘sit’ just as you would say to a dog. The pig planted her haunches and cast an adoring if rather beady gaze up at him. She got a scratch behind each ear for her trouble. Rikardo took the lead.

They were at the groves before Mel had come to terms with her prince having a pet pig, because, whether he’d said so or not, this animal had been raised to his hand.

Mel would guarantee it. She could tell. They arrived also before Mel could recover from the beauty of Rikardo’s twinkling eyes and that hint of a smile.

And what did Mel mean by ‘her prince’ anyway? He certainly wasn’t! She might have him for a few more hours, if that, and all of which only by default anyway because she’d been silly enough to think he was a cab driver.

Later, after she’d been returned to Australia, she could write her story and send it in to one of those truth magazines and say she’d spent a few hours with a royal.

She wouldn’t, of course. She wouldn’t violate Rikardo’s privacy in that manner.

Today, in the broad light of Rikardo’s … kingdom, Mel couldn’t imagine how she’d mistaken him for anything other than what he was, whether she’d been overtired and overwrought and under the influence of an allergy medication or not.

It wasn’t until they reached the actual truffle groves that Mel started to register that Rikardo seemed to have somehow withdrawn into himself as they drew closer to his destination. She wasn’t sure how to explain the difference. He still had her arm. The pig still trotted obediently at his side on its lead. Rikardo spoke with each person they passed and his words were pleasant, if brief.

But Rikardo’s gaze had shifted to those rows of oak trees again and again, and somehow Mel felt the tension rising within him as they drew nearer.

‘Winnow.’ Rik greeted a spindly man in his fifties and shook his hand. ‘Allow me to introduce my guest, Miss Watson.’

So that was how Rik planned to get around that one. But would that be enough? Because for all the people that mistook Mel for her cousin, plenty more … didn’t.

‘Do you have the results of the soil test, Winnow? Are we infected again with the blight?’

This time Mel didn’t have to try to hear the concern in Rikardo’s tone.

‘The test shows nothing, Prince Rik.’ The man stopped and glanced at Melanie and then back to the prince. ‘I beg your pardon. I mean, Prince Rikardo.’

‘It’s fine, Winnow. We are all friends here.’ Rik dipped his head. ‘Please go on.’

Winnow pulled the cap from his head and twisted it in his hands. ‘The test shows nothing, but last year and the year before …‘

‘By the time the tests showed positive, it was too late and we ended up losing the crop.’

‘Yes. Exactly.’ Winnow’s face drew into a grimace. ‘I cannot prove anything. Maybe I am worrying unduly but the soil samples that I pulled this morning do not look right to me.’

‘Then we will treat again now.’ Rikardo didn’t hesitate. ‘Yes, it is expensive and a further treatment we hadn’t planned for will add to that expense, but our research and tests show that enough of the treatment will keep the blight at bay. If you have any concern whatever, then I want the treatment repeated.’

The older man blew out a breath. ‘I am sorry for the added expense but my bones tell me—’

‘And we will listen.’ Rikardo clapped the man on the back. ‘Order the treatment. I will draw funds for it.’

From there Rikardo examined the soil samples himself, and took Rufusina into one of the groves to sniff about. Mel didn’t fully understand the process. The older Winnow kept lapsing into the beautiful local dialect as he spoke with Rikardo.

It was worth not being able to understand, to hear Rikardo respond at times in kind. She felt as though she’d heard him speak to her in the same language but she must have imagined that. In any case it was very lovely, a melodious harmony of tones and textures.

‘We will take breakfast up there, if you are agreeable.’ Rikardo pointed to a spot partway up a nearby mountainside. He’d handed the truffle hog over to Winnow, who was about to put her to good use in the groves before seeing her returned to her home. And with an admonishment to ensure the pig didn’t run off, as she was apparently wont to do on occasion.

But right now …

There was a natural shelving of rock up high where a bench seat and table had been set into it. The view would be amazing. ‘Oh. That would be lovely.’

They began the climb. ‘The truffles. Will they be okay?’

‘I hope so. We’ve had two years of failed harvests. That has resulted in a devastating financial blow to the country’s economy while we searched for a preventative treatment that would work without affecting the quality of the truffles.’ He led her to the bench seat and table.

Opposite was a mountain with large sections covered in ice. Mel sat, and her glance went outward and down, over groves of trees and over the village named after the royal family. ‘There must be so much rich history here. I’m sorry that there have been difficulties with the truffle industry. From Winnow I gather you play a key role in this truffle work?’

‘I run the operations from ground level to the marketing strategies.’

Mel’s gaze shifted to the village below. ‘You must care about the people of Braston very much.’

‘I do, and they are suffering. Not just here and in Ettonbierre village, but right across the country.’ He drew a breath. ‘I had planned that we should eat while I led up to my request but perhaps it is best to simply state it now and then explain.’

Mel’s breath locked in her throat. Rikardo had a request of her? She glanced again at the scene below. Rikardo led a privileged life compared to the very ordinary ones playing out down there. There was a parallel to her life with Nicolette and her cousin’s parents. But there was also a difference.

Rikardo seemed willing to go to any lengths to help those who depended on his family for their livelihoods. ‘What can I do to help you? To help … them?’

‘You are kind, aren’t you?’ It wasn’t a question, and he seemed as concerned by it as he was possibly admiring of it. ‘Even though you don’t know what I may want.’

Mel lowered her gaze. ‘I try to be. What is it that you need?’

‘If it is at all possible, if it’s something you can do without it interfering unreasonably with your life or plans and I can convince you that you will be secure and looked after throughout the process and after it, I would like to ask you to take Nicolette’s place.’ Blue eyes fixed on her face, searched.

‘T-take her place?’ She stuttered the question slightly.

If Mel had peered in front of her in that moment, she felt quite certain she would have seen a hole. A rabbit hole. The kind that Alice in Crazyland could fall down.

Or leap into voluntarily?

‘Just to be clear,’ Mel said carefully, ‘are you asking me to be the one to temporarily marry you?’

CHAPTER FOUR

‘I know a marriage proposal must seem quite strange when you expected to be sent back to Australia today.’ Rik searched Melanie’s face.

He felt an interest and curiosity towards her that he struggled to explain.

And an attraction that can only get in the way of your goals.

He couldn’t let that happen. And right now he needed to properly explain his situation to her. That meant swallowing his pride to a degree, something he wasn’t used to doing. Yet as he looked at the carefully calm face, the hands clenched together in the folds of her skirt as she braced herself for whatever might come next, it somehow became a little easier.

At worst she would refuse to help him.

That would be a genuine ‘worst’, Rik. You need her help, otherwise you’ll end up locked into a miserable marriage like that of your parents, or unable to help the people of Braston at all because this plan of yours has failed.

‘May I be plain, Melanie?’

‘I think that would be best.’ She drew an uneven breath. ‘I feel a little out of my depth right now.’

She would feel more so as he explained his situation to her. He had to hope that she would listen with an open mind.

‘The arrangement that I made,’ he said carefully, ‘was to bring your cousin over here and marry her a month later.’

Melanie responded with equal care. ‘You indicated that would be a temporary thing?’

‘Yes.’ He sought the right words. ‘The marriage was to end with a separation after three months and Nicolette would then have been returned to Australia and a quick divorce would have been filed for.’

‘I see.’ She drew a breath and her lovely brown eyes focused on his blue ones and searched. ‘You didn’t intend to let your father know those circumstances until after the marriage, I’m guessing? What did you hope to gain from that plan?’

‘Aside from my brothers, Nicolette, and my aide, no one was to know of the plan.’ He’d intended to outplay his father, to get what he wanted for the people without having to yield up his freedom for it. ‘This plan probably sounds cold to you.’

‘It does rather reject the concept of marriage and for ever.’ Melanie sat forward on the bench seating and turned further to face him. Her knee briefly grazed his leg as she settled herself.

The colour whipped into her cheeks by the cold air around them deepened slightly. That … knowledge of him, that awareness that seemed to zing between her body and his even when both of them had so much else on their minds …

Is something that cannot be allowed to continue, Rik, particularly if she is willing to agree to the business arrangement you’re asking for with her.

‘In my family, many lifelong marriages have been made to form alliances or for business reasons.’ He hesitated, uncertain how to explain his deep aversion to the idea of pursuing such a path. ‘That doesn’t always result in a pleasant relationship.’

Melanie’s gaze searched his. ‘It could be quite difficult for children of such a marriage, too.’

‘It’s not that.’ The words came quickly, full of assurance and belief as though he needed to say it in case he couldn’t fully believe it?

Rik had his reasons for his decision. He was tired of butting heads with his father while the king tried to bully him to get whatever he wanted. His father needed to acknowledge that Rik would make his own decisions. That was all. ‘There have been myriad problems in the past couple of years.

‘The first year the truffle crop failed it was difficult.’ People relied on the truffle industry for their survival. ‘Around that same time, my mother, the queen, moved out. That was an unprecedented act from a woman who’d always advocated practical marriages and putting on a good front to the public, no matter what.’

Melanie covered her surprise. ‘That must have caused some complications.’

‘It did. For once my father found himself on the back foot.’

‘And you and your brothers found yourselves without a mother in residence. I’m sorry to hear that. It’s never pleasant when you lose someone, even if they choose to leave.’ A glimpse of something longstanding, deep and painful flashed through her eyes before she seemed to blink it away. ‘I hope that you still get to see her?’

‘I see my mother infrequently when there are royal occasions that bring us all together.’ Would Mel understand if he explained that his contact with his mother hadn’t changed much? That the queen had never spent much time with her sons and what time she had spent had been invested in criticising their clothing, deportment, efforts or choices in life? Better to just leave that alone.

‘My parents died years ago.’ She offered the confidence softly. ‘I went to live with Nicolette and my aunt and uncle after that happened.’

He took one of her hands into his. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

Dominico had informed him of some of these things this morning after the security check the aide ordered on her came through. The invasion of Melanie’s privacy had been necessary, but Rik had refused to read the report, asking only to be told ‘anything that might matter’. Though he had to protect himself, somehow it had still felt wrong.

‘Thank you.’ She gently withdrew her hand, and folded both of them together in her lap.

She went on. ‘You’ve explained about the truffle crops failing, how that’s impacted on your people. One year is a problem but two years in a row—’

‘Brought financial disaster to many of our truffle workers.’ And while Rik pursued every avenue to find a cure for the blight to the truffle crops, his father had denied the depths of the problem because he was absorbed in his anger and frustration over his queen walking out on him.

‘On top of these issues, the tourist industry also waned as other parts of Europe became more popular as vacation destinations. Tourism is Anrai’s field. He has the chain of hotels and the country certainly still gets a tourist market, but when there is so much more to do and see just over the border …‘

‘You have to have something either comparable, or totally unique, to pull in a large slice of the tourist market.’ Melanie nodded her head.

‘Exactly. Our country needs to get back on its feet. My brothers and I have fought to get our father to listen to the depth of the problems.’ They’d provided emergency assistance to the people out of their own pockets as best they could but that wasn’t a long-term solution. None of them had endless supplies of funds.

In terms of available cash, nor did the royal estate. It had what it had. History, a beautiful palace and the means to maintain it and maintain a lifestyle comparable to it for the royal family. Their father oversaw all of that, and did not divulge the details of what came and went through the royal coffers. It was through careful investment of a shared inheritance that Rik and his brothers had decent funds of their own.

‘Despite these difficulties you came up with a plan.’ Mel searched Rikardo’s face. Her heart had stopped pounding in the aftermath of his remarkable request, though even now she still couldn’t fully comprehend it, couldn’t really allow herself to consider it as any kind of reality.

It was Alice down that alternative universe hole again, yet it wasn’t. He truly wanted her to marry him. For practical purposes, to outwit his father, and just for a few months, but still … he wanted her to marry him.

She started to find it hard to breathe again. ‘And somehow your plan involved trading off a brief marriage for sorting out the country’s economic troubles.’

‘Yes. My father has pushed all three of us to marry. I think we all have expected that Marcelo would have to do that whether he wanted to or not because he is the eldest. It is part of his heritage.’

Mel nodded. ‘I thought when I came here, well, I guess I was so overwhelmed by it all that I didn’t stop to think that everything might not be rosy just because there’s a palace filled with amazing things. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean everything is easy for you. Or for your brothers, either.’

‘My brothers and I went to our father in a concerted bid to get him to listen to the seriousness of the problems the people are facing and with our plans for addressing those problems. Leadership reform is also desperately needed, and that is something Marcelo has been working to achieve for some years now.’ Rikardo drew a breath. ‘Our father finally did listen. We got our concessions from him.’

His tone became even more formal as he went on. ‘But that agreement came at a cost. In return for agreeing to requests that will help us protect Braston’s people from further financial hardship, his demand was that we each marry within the next six months.’

‘To ensure that the family carries on?’ Mel asked the question and then wondered if she should have.

Even as a king, did Georgio have the right to push his sons to marry if they didn’t feel ready? If they didn’t want to? For Rik to go to such lengths to avoid the institution, he must have some deep-seated reasons. Or did he just not want to be bullied? That was reason enough, of course!

Mel might not ever fully understand, and for some reason she felt a little sad right now. Her gaze shifted to the cliff face opposite. Two men were near the top, tourists or locals with rappelling equipment.

Mel had to navigate this discussion. And Rik’s explanations did help her to start to understand what was at stake, at least for the people of Braston.

Could she decide to just walk away when the futures of so many people hinged on Rik meeting his father’s demands? When him bringing her here by mistake could have ruined those plans? If she hadn’t been on the street filled with allergy medication …

Whether she’d meant it or not, her actions had contributed to this current problem, and if there was no other way to fix it …

But it’s such a big undertaking, Mel. Marriage, even if it is only for a few months! And there’d be publicity and a dress and so much else, and you’d be fooling Rik’s father the whole time and then he’d realise he’d been fooled and be very angry.

Yet Mel knew that Rik would protect her; that he would make sure his father didn’t bring any of his wrath down on Mel’s head. Rik wouldn’t allow that anger to have its head. ‘When it ended you would send me back to Australia, to Sydney. I wouldn’t be exposed to the aftermath here.’

‘And because we’d give an interview when we dissolved the marriage and let the magazines and tabloids have that, I would hope you wouldn’t attract much media interest when you went home.’ His gaze searched hers. ‘I would direct them towards me and ask you to do the same. At worst there might be some photographs and speculation about you in the newspapers over there for a brief time.’

That was to be expected when such an event had happened, but if all the information were already given, surely the papers wouldn’t care much once they realised Mel wasn’t going to talk to them, and the split had been amicable? ‘That shouldn’t be so bad.’ The whole thing wouldn’t be too scary if she decided to do it. Would it?

She reached for the picnic basket that sat ignored on the table before them, and hoped that Rik couldn’t see the tremble in her fingers. ‘Would you like coffee? Something to warm your hands around?’

‘Thank you.’ His gaze, too, shifted to the men on the nearby mountain peak before it returned to Mel. ‘I should have unpacked the basket and made it all available to you the moment we got up here.’

The thought of a prince unpacking breakfast for her horrified her but she bit back her words about it and instead, served the food and coffee for both of them.

When she set his plate in front of him, he caught and held her gaze.

‘I know what I’m asking isn’t easy. I made this plan because I do not feel I can marry, truly … permanently.’ He hesitated. ‘The demonstration of that institution within my family—’

‘Has been about as warm as what I’ve seen in Nicolette’s family.’ Mel bit her lip, but that was her truth and there didn’t seem to be much point in avoiding saying it now.

They started on their food. There were eggs cooked similarly to a quiche but without the pastry base. Small chunks of bread dipped in fragrant oil and herbs and then baked until they were crisp and golden. Grilled vegetables and fruits and a selection of pastries.

‘What you’ve asked me to do is unexpected.’ Stunningly so. ‘But I ended up here, you can’t swap me for Nicolette, and if I don’t agree, the game is up with your father and you either have to marry someone for real and stay married to her, or your father won’t grant you the “concessions” you asked for.’

‘I’m afraid I didn’t allow for collecting the wrong woman outside Nicolette’s home, but that is not your fault.’ He frowned and sipped his coffee. ‘It’s important you don’t make your decision based on guilt. A mistake happened that was out of my control, and yours.’

She did feel at least partially responsible, but Mel kept that thought to herself and instead took a small bite of a tasty grilled vegetable before she went on. ‘I’d like to know what the concessions are that your father has agreed to.’

‘I am determined that the truffle crop this year will not fail.’ Rikardo set down his knife and fork and turned to face her. ‘When it flourishes, I’ll need a spectacular marketing idea to get buyers back onside to buy our product. Many of them have lost faith because of the blight that struck our crop two years running.’

Mel, too, set down her utensils. ‘What is this marketing idea?’

‘On the palace grounds there are truffles that grow naturally.’ Rik’s gaze shifted to where the palace sat in splendour in the distance. ‘For centuries those truffles have been eaten only by royals. It probably sounds rather archaic but—’ He shrugged and went on.

‘These truffles are particularly fine. If buyers are given the chance to obtain small quantities of them in exchange for purchasing commercial quantities of our regular truffles, I believe they will jump at the opportunity.’

‘What a clever idea.’ Melanie spoke without hesitation. ‘People will go nuts for a chance like that. I can also imagine that you might have had a job on your hands to get the king to allow you to use those truffles.’

‘Correct. My father tends to adhere to a lot of the old ways and does not want to consider change.’ Georgio was strong, stubborn, unbending. Rik preferred to take the strengths he’d inherited from his father, and turn them to better purpose.

As for Melanie, she looked beautiful and innocent and wary and uncertain all rolled into one as she sat beside Rik on the bench. Yet she also seemed well able to think with a business mind, too, and her eyes shone with genuine encouragement for him as she heard his plans for the truffle marketing.

Would she agree to help him out of the corner he’d got himself stuck in? Did he even have the right to ask that of her?

‘I don’t want to harm you through this agreement, Melanie.’ That, too, had to be said. ‘I have asked for your help, but if it is not something you can do, you do not have to give it.’

‘But you want to help your people.’ Her gaze turned to meet his, and held. ‘You chose Nicolette because you weren’t … romantically attached to her or anything like that, didn’t you?’

‘I did. That allowed the situation to remain as uncomplicated as possible.’

‘It would be easy to end the marriage and get on with what you really wanted to do with your life afterwards.’

He dipped his head. ‘Yes.’

‘I’m not ready to consider marriage yet. The real thing, I mean.’ Even as Melanie spoke the words, a part deep inside her whispered a question. Did she believe she would ever be ready? Did she even feel she had the right—?

What did she mean by that? Of course she had the right, and she would still have the right if she married Rikardo and they then divorced. Melanie pushed the strange question aside.

And she thought about all those people subject to circumstances beyond their control, just trying to get on with their daily lives. People in a lot of ways who would be just like her. Not royal people, but everyday people who simply needed a bit of a hand up.

Mel could do this. She could be of help. She could make it so Rikardo didn’t have to lock himself into a long-term marriage he didn’t want. Maybe later he would find someone and be able to be happy. The little prick she felt in her chest must have been hope that he would indeed find that happiness.

‘I’ll do it.’ Melanie spoke the words softly, and said them again more forcefully. ‘I’ll do it. I’ll marry you so you can make your plan work. I want to help you.’

‘You’re quite certain?’ Rik leaned towards her as he spoke.

‘I am. I’m totally sure.’ And in that moment, Mel was. She could help him. She could do this to make up for him not being able to marry her cousin.

‘Thank you, Melanie.’

‘You’re welcome.’ Her face softened and the beginnings of a smile came to her lips. Her gaze moved to his lips and suddenly she had to swallow because something told her he was going to kiss her as part of that thank you.

She thought it, and her breath caught, and then he did.

Rik’s lips brushed hers in a soft press. His hand cupped her shoulder, and even through layers of cloth Mel felt that. Registered that as she received a kiss from a prince.

That was why it felt so remarkable. It had to be the reason—a kiss from a prince to thank her for agreeing to help him out of a tight corner.

Yet Melanie didn’t feel as though a prince was kissing her. She was being kissed … by a man, and it felt wonderful in a way no kiss had before.

In that moment her response was completely beyond her control. Her mouth softened against his, gave itself to his ministrations before her thoughts could catch up or stop her. If those thoughts had surfaced, would the kiss have ended there, with a simple brushing of lips against lips? A simple “thank you” expressed in those terms? Because that was indeed what Rik had set out to do.

It had to have been and yet somehow, for Mel at least, it had become something very different.

Mel closed her eyes. For a moment she forgot she was on a mountainside in Europe with a royal prince, seated at a table with a picnic breakfast spread before them and the most amazing scenic vistas on all sides.

She forgot that it was chilly here but that the sun shone and they were sheltered from the wind. A man was simply kissing her and she was kissing him back and that man had a pet truffle hog he’d named and whom he doted on, even though he tried very hard to hide the fact. He cared for his brothers and for the people who lived in his country, and she’d liked him from the moment she’d thought he was a gorgeous cab driver come to take her away to the airport so she could make her way to Sydney.

‘Rik.’ She’d slept on his shoulder and blabbed at him when she wasn’t quite sensible, and, despite all the smart things she should be thinking right now, the kiss felt right.

‘Hmm?’ He whispered the half-question against her lips.

Mel didn’t know whether she said it, or thought it. She simply knew the words.

Kiss me again.

CHAPTER FIVE

I would kiss you for ever and it would not be enough.

Rik thought the words inside his mind, thought them in his native language. Thought them even though they could not possibly be true and he must simply be swept up in gratitude and relief.

Yet deep within himself he knew that now, in this moment, Melanie would welcome the prolonging of this kiss. His instincts told him this. The way she yielded petal-soft lips to him told him this.

It was that thought of her willingness that finally prompted him to stop something that he should not have started in the first place, and that he hadn’t expected would make his heart pound. He, who rarely lost his cool over anything, had been taken by surprise by kissing a slip of a girl up high on a mountainside.

‘Thank you …‘ Rik released Melanie and drew back, and for a moment couldn’t think what he was thanking her for.

For rescuing him. The prince was being rescued by the same generosity that he’d felt in Melanie’s soft lips.

You are on dangerous ground with this thinking, Rikardo. If she is kind, then she is kind and that is something indeed to be appreciated. But the awareness of each other—that cannot be, and it cannot go on.

He shouldn’t have touched her. Arrogantly, he hadn’t known that doing so would be such a stunning thing.

The kiss had been startling in its loveliness. It wasn’t a manly description. But with Melanie it felt exactly right to describe it in this way.

Melanie was startling in her loveliness, and that came from the generous way she gave of herself.

He’d meant only to touch her lips with his, should perhaps not have considered even that much. Rik would like to say that he’d expected not to feel any attraction to Melanie, that he had expected to feel as indifferent towards her as he had felt towards Nicolette, but he’d known it would be different.

Yet he had kissed her, and had ended up shocked and a little taken aback by just how much he had enjoyed that kiss. Her response to him had felt unrehearsed and open. That, too, had added to her appeal.

Maybe she had simply wanted to kiss a prince.

In many other circumstances, Rik would have accepted the thought and yet Melanie had agreed to help him for no reason other than out of generosity to try to help others. She hadn’t asked him what she would get out of the arrangement. She’d wanted to hear the problems and then she’d made a decision based on what she felt she could do to help.

‘I guess we just sealed the bargain.’ Her words held a tremor. She turned to the picnic basket and started to carefully repack it. ‘We should probably get back. Now that we’ve made this decision, your father will want that official meeting. That’s assuming he can fit me into his schedule. I imagine royal families are very busy and I certainly wouldn’t presume—’

‘It will be all right, Melanie.’ She was fully back into ‘dealing with a prince and a promise and a royal family’ mode and in feeling out of her depth, though she had valiantly jumped into this for his sake.

And for the sake of the people of Braston.

Did that mean she hadn’t thought of Rik in that light as they kissed? That he had simply been a man kissing a woman, and she a woman kissing a man? Had his impact on her come completely from Rikardo the man, not from him being the third prince in line to the throne of Braston?

It wasn’t a question that should even have mattered. Rik had accepted that women were attracted to his title first, sometimes to the man within, second, but always that first was there.

Perhaps some of his questioning came from the relief of knowing he hadn’t blown his chance of avoiding being locked into a miserable marriage as part of his bargain with his father.

Melanie’s gaze meshed with his. ‘Are you quite sure you want to do this? I want to help you and help the people of Braston, but in the end what you do has to be really what you want.’

‘I’m sure.’ He got to his feet and lifted the picnic basket. ‘We may not get much done today other than the meeting with my father if he is available, but Dominico will want to get the ball rolling on a few things.’

Melanie agreed. Now that she had committed to marrying Rikardo, she wanted to get things moving.

She didn’t want to stop and give herself too much time to think about the next month and the three that would follow it.

That might have been rather easier for her before they shared that kiss. Mel stumbled slightly on the uneven ground. She didn’t want to think about the kiss, either! Her heart still beat hard from its impact.

‘I have you.’ Rik’s hand shot out and grasped her arm.

And I have received the most moving kiss I’ve ever experienced.

Not that Mel had a great deal of experience. Her life with the family had kept her busy. Oh, she’d dated here and there with men that she met out in her ‘normal’ world. At the fresh produce store, or once it was the delivery guy from the local butcher’s shop. There hadn’t been a lot of time or opportunity.

There is always the time and the opportunity if you want it enough.

Well, now there was a prince.

No, there wasn’t. Not like that. She wasn’t dating Prince Rik. She was going to marry him, but that was for an agreed purpose that had nothing to do with romance. Right. So she was safe from getting any of the wrong kind of ideas about him or anything like that.

Why then, with Rik’s hand on her arm, and the memory of a kiss still fresh in her mind and stamped on her lips, did Mel feel anything but safe?

From what? Falling for him? That would be insane. Much more than falling down a rabbit hole or wearing sparkling magic shoes that would take her anywhere.

So focus on getting back to the palace to start this process that will help lift the country’s economy. Rather than thinking about kisses, you should think of how you can find out as much as possible about truffle crops so you really can be of help to Rik for the short time you’re here.

‘Do you have books about truffle cropping in the palace?’ She glanced towards the prince.

Yes, the prince! That was what Rik was, and Mel mustn’t forget it. And since when had she started to think of him as Rik?

He said you could.

And if you have a shred of self preservation left, then you should address him as ‘Your Highness’ or something equally distancing, in person and in your thoughts.

‘I have books at the palace and also at my personal home up in the mountains.’ He glanced at her, and then up and beyond her to where those two tourists had found their way to what to Mel looked like a sheer wall of ice.

Rikardo had a second home in the mountains?

Well, duh, Mel. He’s got to be about thirty and he’s a prince. Did you think he’d still live permanently in a couple of rooms in the palace? Even if those rooms were quite glorious and added up to more like a small house. ‘I’d like to look at the books, if that would be okay. I’d like to learn more about the industry.’

She might not be able to do anything to help with the problems they’d had, but if Rik planned to harvest truffles from the royal grounds that, too, would be rather special. Maybe there were records about that, as well.

‘The kitchen staff would have special truffle recipes, wouldn’t they? Maybe handed down through the centuries? I’d love to see those!’ Mel tried hard to walk normally and not lean into him. He still had hold of her arm and her silly response receptors wanted to melt into his side as though they had every right just because he’d kissed her.

He might be marrying Mel, but he was doing that to help him avoid a committed relationship.

And Mel was marrying him to help him out, and she didn’t need to add the complication of being attracted to him to that mix. So it was just as well they’d shared that kiss and put it behind them. They could get on with the business end of things now.

As if it will be that easy, Mel. What about the wedding preparations? The fact that his father will think the two of you want to marry for real?

‘I need to have the right things to say to your father!’ The words blurted out of her with a panicky edge she didn’t anticipate until it was too late to cover it up. ‘That is, I don’t want to be unable to answer any questions he might ask about how we met, how long we’ve known each other, that kind of thing.’

‘We met through your cousin Nicolette when I was at university in Australia. Six months ago we came across each other on a computer forum and we’ve been chatting online and on the phone ever since.’ He turned his head and deep blue eyes looked into hers. ‘I wanted you for my princess. You are calm and pleasant and I felt I could spend the rest of my life with you. It’s not the entire truth, but it’s as close as we’ll get.’

‘Okay. That will work. I know the years that Nicolette was at university, though I didn’t attend myself.’ There was one other issue, though. ‘What’s my story? Why did I say yes?’

Before he could answer, she shook her head. ‘If your father asks me that question, I’d rather tell him that I will do everything in my power to be as supportive of you as I possibly can in all the time we’re together.’

He dipped his head. ‘Then stick to that. Commitment to me is implied in such statements. My father should find that more than acceptable.’

‘Wh-what will be expected … otherwise?’ Mel asked the question tentatively, and she didn’t want to be tentative. She needed to know, therefore she was asking. She straightened her spine. ‘When we’re married, will we be in your suite as we are now, or … ?’ Despite the straighter spine she couldn’t quite bring herself to put it into words.

His gaze met hers. In it was steadiness. ‘For the sake of appearances we would be sharing my room and … bed at first. This is something that can be managed with a little creative imagination without needing to cause you undue concern. Just for the look of things, you understand?’

‘Just—just part of our overall practical arrangement. Yes. I understand totally. That’s very sensible.’ Mel tried not to stutter the words, tried to sound mature and au fait with the situation and what it might entail. They might be sleeping together at the start—her mind tried to boggle and she forced it not to—but they wouldn’t be sleeping together. Not, well, you know. Not like that. She drew a breath. ‘Right. That’s okay, then. We can make that work.’

‘We will, Melanie, so do not worry.’ His words again held reassurance.

And Mel … relaxed into that reassurance.

They were at a turn in their downward descent where the two mountainsides faced each other when a cry ripped through the air, shattering her composure and bringing Rikardo to an abrupt stop.

‘Damn. What’s the man doing? He’s tangled in his equipment!’ Rik dumped the picnic basket and strode towards the source of the cry.

Mel followed, and after a few moments managed to spot what Rik had already seen. A man dangled against that icy outcrop. It was one of the two men she’d seen earlier. The other—Mel couldn’t see.

‘Stop, you fool!’ Rik spoke the words aloud but they were too far away for any hope that the man might hear them.

Even so, Mel echoed the sentiment.

The prince let out a pithy curse. ‘If he keeps trying to get loose, he’ll drop to the bottom.’ He didn’t slow his pace, but he turned to glance at her. ‘There’s no one anywhere near except us. I’ve rappelled that section many times. I have to see if I can help while we wait for a rescue team to get here.’

He already had a cell phone out, and quickly called for assistance and explained the situation and that he would see what he could do until the rescue team arrived.

Mel could hear someone at the other end insisting the prince must not go anywhere near the dangerous situation, before Rik said, ‘Get help here as quickly as possible’ and ended the call.

She bit back the inclination to ask him if he would be safe enough. ‘What can I do, Rik?’

‘Keep yourself safe. Do not follow the path I take. Follow the path that’s cut into the mountain and you’ll reach the same destination. It will take longer, but I’ll know you are not at risk. When the rescue team starts up the mountain, point them to where I am.’ He strode ahead confidently.

Mel followed at the best pace she could manage. Each moment counted and Rik quickly got ahead of her, and then cut a different path towards the ice-bound cliff. After a few minutes she could hear him shout to the man first in English, and then in French. The conversation continued in French, and Mel could only guess what was being said.

She struggled on, determined to reach Rik and be of help if she could. She was within shouting distance herself when she looked back and saw the rescue team starting up the mountain. Mel waved to them and pointed to Rik’s location, and got a wave back from the leader of the team.

Mel kept going, and then there was the man, dangling in mid-air, and Rik saying something sharp and hard to a second man at the top of the cliff before taking that man’s unused equipment and kitting up.

The third prince of Braston was over the edge in a breathtakingly short time. Mel didn’t go any further, then. She wasn’t sure she could have if she tried. Instead she stood frozen in place, completely unable to breathe as all the concern for his safety that she’d pushed back rushed to the surface and threatened to overwhelm her.

She bit back the instinct to call out, ‘Be careful.’ Considering what he was doing, he would already be at the bottom of the cliff if he weren’t taking care.

Nevertheless, what followed made Melanie’s blood chill. She’d never watched ice rappelling. It looked risky, and it was obvious from the way he tried to control his slip that Rik didn’t have the right boots on his feet for the job.

The stranded man, despite Rik’s instructions that even Melanie could tell were to stay still and wait whether they were in French or not, continued to tug and pull at the tangle he was in. Did he want to end up at the bottom of the mountain?

‘Your Highness, you must wait for us!’

‘Please, Prince Rikardo, you must come away from there!’

The words were called as the rescue team came close enough to see what was happening, but it was too late. If Rik didn’t do something about this man, he would kill himself. Panic had the man in its grip. The second man showed no apparent interest in proceedings, sitting there with a blank look on his face.

Had Melanie looked like that when she’d taken that medication and faded into sleep?

He’s taken some kind of illicit drug, Mel. You’ve seen enough of that in Melbourne to recognise it. No doubt Rik recognises it, too.

‘You have to make sure that second man doesn’t interfere with what Rik’s doing or do anything stupid himself.’ She spoke the instruction to the head of the rescue team as they drew close. ‘He’s under the influence of something. It’s likely that both of them are, because Rik’s struggling to get the stranded one to listen and stop fighting to get free.’

Rik had rappelled out beside the man. He couldn’t untangle him, but he was trying to calm him. At his own risk! Even now the man reached for Rik with clawing hands!

‘Oh, please, be careful,’ she whispered.

She didn’t notice that she’d called him Rik as she spoke to the rescue team, or that she’d spoken as though she had every right to that authority. Mel didn’t care.

The next ten minutes felt like a lifetime. When the man was hauled up, Rikardo followed. He moved with confidence. Mel had made her way to the top and wanted to grab him once he got up there and …

Shake him? Check that he was unharmed?

Kiss him a second time?

‘All is well, though I have asked the team to take both men to the nearest hospital and have them checked over, drug tested and, if need be, charged by the police.’ Rik’s words were spoken across a very calm surface.

But beneath that calm must be all the anger over the stupidity of those two men.

‘Your Highness …‘ One of the rescue team approached.

‘I am well and unharmed but you must excuse me now,’ Rikardo said with respect, and firmness.

And then he stripped out of the equipment he’d commandeered, took Mel once again by the arm, and started down the mountain with her.

Mel walked at his side. ‘I’m so glad you knew what to do up there. I’d like to see you do that properly one day, with all the right equipment, because I think you would be amazing at it.’

I’d like to see you do that properly one day …

Melanie’s words rang in Rik’s ears as he put his Italian sports car through its paces on the way to his mountain retreat home.

Her words were a salve to the anger he’d bitten back over the stupidity of those two men. Had they wanted to get themselves killed? The other one, when questioned, had said he was waiting for his turn to go out ‘alone’ and that ice rappelling was ‘easy, man’.

The man had been so far gone that he hadn’t even comprehended the danger his friend was in. Well, they were both safe now.

Rik let the thoughts go and turned his attention to his driving. He’d held back until he reached the private road that led to his home. This road, he knew better than the back of his hand, every turn, just how much he could give behind the wheel to release the pent-up energy that came from that stressful rappel in someone else’s untested equipment. He’d needed this.

He’s going too fast. Mel couldn’t get the thought out of her head. Her logical mind understood that Rik had control of the car. It was clear he knew this road well. The road itself was wide with plenty of room for dual traffic and yet it was a private road. They hadn’t seen any other cars and she guessed they were quite unlikely to do so.

All of this made infinite sense. The paralysing fear inside Mel did not make sense. Her fingers curled into the edges of her seat. Her heart pounded with a mixture of apprehension and the need to get out of this situation at any cost.

‘Please stop.’ The words whispered through her clenched teeth, whispered so quietly that she didn’t know how Rik could have heard them.

All Mel knew was that she wanted out of this car. Now.

‘Melanie.’ A voice tinged with remorse broke through her fear. The car began immediately to slow and Rik said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you were uncomfortable.’

It’s all right. I’m fine. There’s no need to slow down or stop.

In her mind, Mel entertained these polite thoughts. But her instincts were in a very different place. She struggled to breathe normally, to not throw her door open and try to get out. The reaction was so intense and so deep that it completely unnerved her. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think clearly, didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t understand why she had ended up feeling like this.

Within moments the car moved much more slowly and fingers wrapped firmly around the hand nearest to him. ‘Do you need me to stop the car completely, Melanie? My house is less than a minute away and I’d rather get you there if possible.’

The roaring in her ears started to recede but Mel was still a long way from calm. Her fingers tightened around his. ‘I don’t know what came over me. I feel stupid for the way I’ve reacted.’

‘You are certainly not stupid.’ Rik spoke these words softly as he drew the car to a stop in front of his mountain home. The place was maintained for him, but did not have permanent staff. They would be alone here, and he was glad for that now to give Melanie a chance to recover.

Whatever had happened during the trip had affected her deeply, and he felt she would benefit from space and not having to deal with anyone new just for the moment.

Had the panic come on because of all the pressure he’d put on her? It was a lot to ask a woman to become his temporary princess, to work with him to fool his father into believing the marriage was intended to last a lifetime.

It was a lot for her to find herself here under confused circumstances let alone the pressure Rik had added to that load for her.

You must take care of her. Give her time to calm down.

He got out of the car, opened her door for her and took her hand to help her out. His home was chalet-style, built of log and with a sharply pitched roof. Large windows gave beautiful views from every part of the home and were one-way tinted for privacy. Rik doubted that Melanie noticed any of it. Her face was sheet-white and the hand he held within his trembled.

‘Let me get you a hot drink, Melanie.’ He led her inside and to a comfortable leather sofa in the living room.

‘Thank you. It is a bit chilly, isn’t it?’ Melanie sank onto the sofa and didn’t argue about who should be preparing the beverages.

Rik didn’t waste time, and quickly returned with coffee for both of them. He took his seat beside her. ‘This will take the chill away.’

The rooms were centrally heated, but she’d clearly had a shock. It would take time for her body to return to a normal temperature.

Rik had brought that shock about. He had put too much on her. Bringing her to Braston with her waking up from a long sleep to discover she was in the middle of Europe instead of in Sydney. He’d asked her to replace her cousin and briefly marry him. Had piled all the worries about the country onto her, and then had left her to cope with her concern for him while he rappelled onto an icy cliff in dangerous circumstances to deal with a man who didn’t want to hear reason, and another who could have added more trouble to the mix.

To cap it off, Rik had come up here to get away from things, and the speed of his driving had frightened her enough that she hadn’t been able to even tell him what was wrong.

As Melanie sipped her coffee and colour began to come back into her face Rik set his drink down and turned to her. ‘I am sorry that you were afraid during the drive up here.’

‘You weren’t to know that I would react like that. I didn’t know it myself.’ She forced her gaze about the room before meeting his eyes. For the first time since leaving the car, she seemed to see her surroundings.

Maybe that, too, helped her, because she said valiantly, ‘It was worth the trip. This is a lovely home and the views are amazing. And I feel much better. I’m sure I won’t have that kind of problem again.’

‘I am pleased that you’re starting to feel better. What happened to you? Do car trips always make you uneasy?’

Back in Australia, she’d checked when he collected her from outside Nicolette’s home that he felt fresh enough to drive. Rik hadn’t thought anything of it.

‘That’s the first time I’ve been in a sports car. They go very fast.’ As she seemed to consider what had happened she frowned. ‘I don’t understand this myself. I don’t drive, but I’m not usually the type to panic unnecessarily, and with hindsight I know that you had control of what you were doing.

‘I’m just sorry that I spoiled the drive for you,’ she said. ‘You obviously needed an outlet after dealing with those two foolish men and keeping your calm so well, both before and after.’

Rik had needed that outlet. Sometimes keeping his cool came at a cost to his blood pressure!

‘I felt like telling them off myself for being so stupid,’ she added hotly, ‘and I wasn’t the one who had to risk life and limb to go out and stop that first man from falling to his death!’

Maybe if she learned to drive herself, she might feel better informed and more confident to assess the skill of other drivers when they were behind the wheel.

They were side by side on the sofa, and Rik became very conscious of that as they fell silent and gave their attention to their drinks.

After a moment, she spoke with a slight teasing tone in her voice. ‘You make very good coffee. Is it allowed, for a prince of the realm to do such tasks as make coffee?’

‘And do them well?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think in today’s world it is, and I would go hungry and thirsty up here if it weren’t.’

She was a plucky girl. Resilient. The thoughts came to Rik and lodged. He couldn’t help but admire her for that.

‘Do you think I could have a tour while we’re here?’ she asked. ‘I’d love to see the rest of your home.’

‘Absolutely.’ Rik got to his feet and held out his hand to help Melanie rise.

He was getting in the habit of that, of reaching for her hand far too often …

But you will need to do things like that to make the upcoming marriage plans seem realistic to your father.

Even though Georgio would not expect it to be a love match, he would still expect such demonstrations.

‘The meeting with my father has not yet been arranged. I think it can wait for a little longer yet.’ Rik drew a breath. ‘I’d like some time to restore a better mood before I tackle that talk, to be honest.’

‘Then I’m glad I asked for the tour.’ Mel melted the moment Rik confessed his need to prepare for the talk with his father. And she truly did feel so much better now. ‘We can stay here as long as you want. It’s a beautiful place.’

Rik was good company and they’d just sort of got engaged, so why shouldn’t they stay here for a bit, if they wanted to? She could use the time to ask a few questions about how they would work their way through the next few months, too.

‘I’ll need a wedding dress.’ Visions of past royal marriages scrolled through her mind. ‘Something very simple that won’t cost the earth.’ She turned to Rik. ‘How do we pull off a wedding in a month?’

‘With a really good wedding planner, and, as you’ve already realised, with the most simplified plans possible.’ He started towards the rear of the house and said firmly, ‘Now let me show you the rest of my retreat, and all the views. I think they’re worth seeing.’

They were, and Mel looked out of floor-length windows at some very lovely scenery before Rik toured her through the rest of his home. It was surprisingly humble. Well, not humble. It was a delightful four-bedroom chalet-style home but it certainly wasn’t, well, a palace.

‘I love this place,’ she blurted. ‘If it was me I’d be up here all the time. Normal-sized rooms, calm atmosphere, no one to tell you what to do.’

‘You’ve just worked out the secrets of my attraction to this home.’ He smiled and led her into the final room.

It was an office, with a desk and computer and shelves of books about …‘Oh. Can I look at some of those? Do you have ones that show what the truffles look like when they’re harvested? History books? Anything about the royal truffles? Cooking? The growth process from beginning to end and the uses of truffle hogs?’

‘Yes to all of that. And I trained Rufusina under the tutelage of Winnow. There is a photo album.’ Rik brought out the photo album and a selection of books and before Mel knew it she was nose down in some gorgeous pictures, and some very interesting information. He didn’t have cookbooks, but he told her that some of the old recipes were still produced at the palace and described some of the dishes.

‘Truffled turkey. I’d like to cook that.’ Mel thought back through her cooking career. ‘The closest I’ve come to cooking with truffles is using truffle-flavoured oil a few times.’

Rik’s brows lifted. ‘You had a career as a cook?’

‘Yes, working for my aunt and uncle.’ Mel glanced at him through her lashes. She’d thought he would have known that already.

They were seated with her on the swivel chair, and him leaning back against the corner of the desk in his office. It wasn’t a large room, and as she let herself register the cosiness, his closeness, Mel suddenly became breathless. ‘I cooked for them for years. Cakes and desserts were my speciality, but I cooked all the meals, including for dinner parties. They liked to schmooze wealthy—’

She coughed and turned her attention back to the books. ‘These are wonderful resources. It’s an intricate industry. You’ve done well to get the black truffles growing commercially here.’

‘Not so well in the past two years.’ Rik glanced up and towards the windows.

The frown that came to his face made Mel follow his glance.

She hadn’t noticed the change in atmosphere, but now she saw it. ‘I didn’t know it had started snowing.’

‘Yes.’ He got up from the desk. ‘Why don’t you select what books you’d like to bring back to the palace when we return, while I see what’s in the kitchen that we can have for our lunch?’

Not that Mel minded either way and it wasn’t as though Rik were trying to trap her into spending time with him here. He’d probably enjoy the time away from the palace while he could, but would have been just as content to be up here by himself.

Something in his expression still made her ask. ‘How long do you think it will snow?’

CHAPTER SIX

IT SNOWED all that day. When darkness fell, Rik closed the curtains throughout his chalet home and turned to face Mel.

While Rik appeared completely calm Mel couldn’t say the same. She stood rather uncertainly in the middle of the living room.

With the prince. Up here in his chalet where he’d just made the decision that they wouldn’t be leaving until morning. So they would be here. All alone. Together. For all that time.

‘It won’t matter too much?’ She asked the question in a deliberately businesslike tone that somehow managed to emerge sounding chatty and confiding and breathless all at once. Mel forged on. ‘That you can’t get back tonight,I mean?’

Even despite the tone, Mel would have said she did well, that the question was at least focused on whether he might have problems because he couldn’t attend to duties at the palace tonight.

Yes. That was a good way to put it. ‘Your duties—?’ Really, she felt quite relaxed about this whole situation.

After all they were just staying in a different location for a night. She’d slept in a bedroom within Rik’s suite of rooms last night, which was rather intimate when you thought about it, and that hadn’t bothered her.

Not even when you leapt out of bed the next morning because you could hear him speaking just outside your closed door? Because you wanted to get through the shower and look your best for him before he saw you? Because you hadn’t been entirely certain whether he’d pulled the covers over you the night before when you might not have looked your best?

‘It won’t matter at all. I gave Dominico another quick call while I was outside checking the snowfall. He’ll take care of anything urgent until I get back tomorrow morning.’ His cheek creased as he gave a lopsided and quite devastating smile. He didn’t seem at all concerned or put out by their circumstances.

Which was great, of course.

That was exactly how Mel would feel in a moment when she finished pushing away these silly thoughts about being up here alone with him and how that might impact on the rest of the evening. It must be because he had kissed her on the mountainside earlier. Or because they’d spent the afternoon poring over truffle books and photo albums that showed many shots of Rufusina being trained by Rik and Rik laughing in some of the shots.

Perhaps it was also because she would be pretending to be engaged and then married to him.

‘We’ll end up holding hands and kissing …‘ Somehow the words were attached to the blood vessels in her face. Heat swept upwards from her neck and rushed into her cheeks.

‘Yes,’ Rik said in a deep voice. ‘At times we … will.’

Rikardo. Prince Rikardo. You’ll end up holding hands and kissing Prince Rikardo.

Oh, as though putting it in the correct words made it any better!

Even the reminder didn’t hold the weight it should have, and Mel just didn’t know what to do about that. Something had happened when he took her hand and got her out of the car and brought her inside and made her a hot drink and set to work to help her get past the ridiculous fear she’d experienced.

He acted just like your dream idea of a very ordinary man, showing a sensitive side while still being very, very strong and being wonderful and appealing and all the things you might want—

But Mel didn’t want a man. Well, not for a long time. Not like that in the way of settling down together and falling in love so she ended up vulnerable. She wasn’t ready for that! The thought burst through, and was somehow linked to her earlier panic while trapped in the speeding car with Rik.

Maybe she just felt panicky at the moment, full stop.

Maybe she needed to focus on right now because this was enough of a challenge, thanks very much!

Rikardo wasn’t an ordinary man anyway. Mel couldn’t afford to forget that.

Not while reading truffle books and smiling over Rufusina photos. Not while kissing him on a mountainside because that had been a kiss to seal a bargain. It might have blown her away, but he’d just kissed her and that had been that. Probably checking to make sure he could make it look believable any time they had to repeat the exercise over the next month and the months after that.

How many times might they … ?

Mel’s heart tripped.

She contemplated turning into a contortionist so she could kick herself for being so silly. The next months would be businesslike as often as possible. That was what they would be. Now what had they been saying? ‘Evening in. Yes. That’ll be fine. The only thing that matters is that it doesn’t interfere with other plans of yours. The treatment in the truffle groves—has that been done today or do you need to be there to supervise it? That’s the one thing I didn’t ask about while we studied those books.’

‘Winnow has supervised the treatment today. He knows what to do, and Dominico organised payment to cover it.’ He brushed this aside as though it were irrelevant.

Not the treatment part, the money part. Was it? Mel hadn’t got the impression that the money would come out of some endless royal coffer. If that could happen then Rik wouldn’t be stressing over getting the people out of financial trouble to the degree that he was. He’d said that there needed to be reform.

Her eyes narrowed. Had he paid for that treatment himself somehow? Out of money that perhaps shouldn’t be invested in that direction because it was for his personal use or he’d earned it himself? She knew so little about him and she wanted to know … everything?

Purely because Mel preferred to understand the people she dealt with!

‘We’ll treat tonight as an evening off,’ he declared. ‘If the remainder of this month is very busy, we can remember that we at least had a few hours to—how do you say it? “Veg out and do nothing.”‘

‘Why, yes.’ A delighted laugh escaped Mel. She couldn’t help it. The sound just flew out. Mel also couldn’t drag her gaze from that crease in his cheek, or from the sparkle in his deep blue eyes.

So she gave in and let herself enjoy the moment. It wasn’t as though Rik would want to spend the entire night kissing her senseless just because they were alone.

Just because he’d kissed her once already. Just because he was the best kisser she’d ever been kissed by and there would be times in the public eye, at least, when he would kiss her again. Just because he made her want to don sparkly shoes and leap into a rabbit hole.

‘If we’re having a night in,’ a night of not kissing each other, ‘then I guess we just need to work out how we want to spend our time.’

‘Not reading about truffles.’ This too was said with a smile.

Oh, she could fall heavily for that smile. She wouldn’t, though. Not when she’d reminded herself that she was doing this to help him, and help the people of Braston, and because she’d ended up here by mistake and there weren’t a lot of other options for him now, like none at all really, and she could afford the time and effort to help. Did it really make any difference whether she started her new life in Sydney this week or four months from now?

‘I think I’ve taken in as much information about truffles as I can manage for one day, but I’m pleased to know more about the industry. It’s obviously really important—to—to people here.’ She’d almost said that it was important to Rik, and that was why she’d wanted to understand.

That wouldn’t be the key reason, of course. She wanted to be supportive of Rik’s efforts. She’d made the commitment to marry him for that reason. But she wasn’t obsessing over learning all about his life and work or anything like that.

Are you sure about that, Melanie? Because you seem mightily interested in him, really.

Yes, she was sure! And no she was not ridiculously interested! She was helping to fix a problem that she was partially responsible for creating in the first place. She was no more interested than she should be.

‘It’s a fascinating industry,’ she said in the most dampening tone she could muster. ‘The truffle industry. But perhaps we could pass the time this evening some other way?’

Like snuggling on the sofa?

No. Like … well, she didn’t know. Cooking? Playing on the Internet?

‘How do you feel about television?’ Rik indicated the large screen in the corner of the room. ‘I have a selection of DVDs I’ve not yet got around to watching.’

‘Watching DVDs would be …‘ Smart. Sensible. Safe? Better than thinking about kissing the whole night? ‘A good idea. I don’t mind a good comedy, but I’ll watch most things.’

They sat on the floor in front of the DVD cabinet going through choices until she found episodes of an Australian comedy show she hadn’t yet watched. ‘Oh, you have this series! I’ve only ever seen a few episodes but it’s supposed to be brilliant!’

So they sat side by side on the sofa with popcorn that Rik made in the microwave, and sodas from his fridge, and watched comedy episodes until Mel had giggled so many times that she’d forgotten to feel self-conscious at all in Rik’s presence. Instead she had become totally enamoured of the rich, deep rumble that accounted for his laughter.

And she forgot to guard against letting herself be aware of him as an attractive appealing man and not a prince who should be held at arm’s length because she was only here for a few months and he was marrying her so he could avoid any kind of commitment to a woman, even if Mel didn’t know why he seemed to need to do that as much as he needed to. They were almost through the evening, anyway.

So why are you almost holding your breath, Mel, as though waiting for something to happen?

‘Goodnight, Mel.’ Rik walked Melanie to the opened doorway of her bedroom.

They’d watched their comedy episodes. Mel had paid more attention than he had. Did she feel it the way that he did? This compulsion that ate at him to draw closer, know her, use every avenue and every moment to learn more of her and to let her learn more of him? And a coinciding physical consciousness that seemed to fill the air around them with a charge of electricity just waiting for one small spark to set it ablaze?

Why did this woman make him feel this way more than any other had? Rik didn’t want to admit that to himself, but he forced the acknowledgement.

Then admit that you desire her, and that the desire is as much about her personality as it is about her physical appeal.

He’d spent this evening with her and he’d thought about how different their lives were and mad thoughts had come through his mind about bridging the gaps.

Look how well longevity and sticking together had worked for his father and mother. The queen had walked out, had done the one thing Rik and his brothers had never expected. She had turned her back on what she had treated as the core of her duty. And now neither parent would discuss the matter with their sons.

Rik turned his thoughts back to the present.

At times today Mel seemed to have almost forgotten that Rik was a prince. He’d … liked that. But now was not a good time for him to forget the arrangement they’d made. He needed this to work. To be distracted by her beauty and appeal was not the right thing for him to do, to be distracted mentally and in liking her so much, even less smart because it spoke of an emotional awareness that couldn’t happen. Rik could never trust …

‘Good—goodnight, Rik.’ She said the words quietly, almost tentatively.

With a question in their depths?

Her small hand came to rest on his forearm and she reached up and briefly kissed his cheek. ‘I’ll see you in the morning and I’ll be ready for whatever needs to be done to help get your temporary marriage plans started, or just to keep out of the way if you need to work in the truffle groves tomorrow.’

Rik searched her face and saw the determination to do the right thing, to dismiss him and her awareness of him at one and the same time. To remain Melanie here and Rikardo there and never the two should cross over their lines.

He saw all that, and he felt what was inside her. A very different compulsion that he felt, too, that made him want to lean in and replace that pseudo-kiss with the real thing. To know for himself if the last kiss had been some kind of strange fluke. If her lips would taste as good a second time.

‘Sleep well.’ He turned and started for his room at the end of the short corridor. ‘I will see you in the morning. Thank you for your company this evening. I … really enjoyed it.’

And with that, Prince Rikardo Eduard Ettonbierre of Braston went to his room, stepped inside and shut the door firmly behind him.

Only then did he lift his hand to allow his fingertips to lightly trace where her lips had pressed to his cheek.

It was perfectly fine for him to find Melanie likeable, and to still marry her, end the marriage short months later, and get on with the single life that he wanted, and needed to maintain.

He would not be marrying for real.

Rik sighed and dropped his hand. For now he needed to prepare for bed.

Tomorrow was a new day and no doubt a new set of challenges.

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘I WOULD like to present to you my fiancée, Nicole Melanie Watson.’ Rik spoke the words to King Georgio formally, and as though the other impromptu meeting had never occurred. ‘My fiancée is known by her middle name of Melanie.’

If the occasion had been less formal, Mel might have smiled at Rik’s tweaking of history to suit himself. But this was not that kind of moment. Mel curtsied.

‘I am pleased to meet you, Melanie.’ Georgio took her hand and air-kissed above the fingers and, while doing so, searched her face. After a moment he gave a slight nod and indicated a setting of leather lounges and chairs to the left.

They were in what Rik referred to as one of the ‘great rooms’. It was a large area, and could have felt intimidating if Mel hadn’t walked in here determined not to be intimidated.

Mel and Rik had made their way down the mountain this morning. He’d driven at a gentler pace and Mel had remained calm until they were almost at the palace. Nervous anticipation had set in then but Mel felt that was justified.

‘Let us get to know one another a little, Melanie,’ Georgio said as they all took their seats.

Rik sat on one of the sofas beside Mel. He seemed deeply resolved this morning. Last night, when she’d thought he would kiss her at her door, kiss her properly, Melanie had thought he might feel as confused and tempted and aware of her as she did of him. But of course that was quite silly. He might have wanted to kiss her. But that didn’t mean his emotions were engaged.

Not that Mel’s were!

Concentrate on the king, Mel. This is not the time for anything else.

‘Melanie and I first met through a cousin of hers.’ Rik added a few details.

When the king nodded, Mel bit back the urge to heave a sigh of relief. But she also had to handle her share of the conversation. ‘I admire Rikardo, and the work that he does for the people of Braston. I want to be as supportive of that as I possibly can.’

‘That is good.’ Georgio’s glance shifted from Mel to Rik and back to Mel again. ‘And what did you do before you agreed to marry my son?’

‘I worked as a cook.’ It might not have been a glamorous job. It would probably sound even less glamorous if she admitted she had done that for little money, working for her relatives to earn her right to a sense of belonging.

Note to self, Mel. You never did earn that right and you waited too long to get yourself out of that situation.

A similar set of rites was being played out in this room between Rik and his father.

She turned the highest wattage smile she could muster towards King Georgio. ‘My history is humble, I suppose, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of in coming from everyday stock.’

‘If that “stock” has an appropriate history attached to it.’ Georgio’s eyes narrowed. ‘My son will run a check. I will see this report for myself.’

Like a police-record check or something?

No, Mel, it will be a lot more detailed even than that.

She tried not to bristle at the thought, and at the king’s emotionless declaration. As though he did this all the time and would have no hesitation in eliminating her like a blot from Rik’s radar screen if she didn’t come up to standard.

It didn’t actually matter whether Georgio liked her or approved of her or not, provided she could marry Rik so that Rik could carry out his plans.

I still don’t like it. My family history is my business. I don’t want it exposed to all and sundry.

‘Dominico already ran the check.’ Rik clipped the words off. ‘You may take Melanie at her word, Father. There is nothing in her history to justify the need for you to view the report.’

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