A reunion...

fit for a princess in disguise!

At his friend’s wedding, millionaire Finn couldn’t take his eyes off the gorgeous stranger whose naivety intrigued his cynical heart...until she suddenly fled! So while on business in Montovia, he’s shocked to come face-to-face with her—as Princess Natalia! Finn’s once again compelled by their instant connection, but Natalia’s duty makes a future impossible. Unless he can convince her their love is worth breaking a few royal rules for...

KANDY SHEPHERD swapped a career as a magazine editor for a life writing romance. She lives on a small farm in the Blue Mountains near Sydney, Australia, with her husband, daughter, and lots of pets. She believes in love at first sight and real-life romance—they worked for her! Kandy loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at kandyshepherd.com.

Also by Kandy Shepherd

Greek Tycoon’s Mistletoe Proposal

Conveniently Wed to the Greek

Stranded with Her Greek Tycoon

Best Man and the Runaway Bride

Second Chance with the Single Dad

Sydney Brides miniseries

Gift-Wrapped in Her Wedding Dress

Crown Prince’s Chosen Bride

The Bridesmaid’s Baby Bump

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Falling for the Secret Princess

Kandy Shepherd

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09153-4

FALLING FOR THE SECRET PRINCESS

© 2019 Kandy Shepherd

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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To Elizabeth Lhuede, good friend and my

first critique partner on my romance writing journey.

She’s still there, with wise and informed feedback

not only on writing but also on the quirks

of human behaviour.

Thank you, Elizabeth!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

NATALIA KNEW SHE should have eyes only for her friends, the bride and groom, as the deliriously happy couple exchanged vows in the grounds of a waterfront mansion on Sydney Harbour. The correct etiquette and protocol for every possible social occasion had been drummed into her since birth. ‘You must always follow the rules, Natalia.’ She could almost hear the commanding tones of her parents. But, although she knew it was an impolite no-no, she could not help her gaze from straying to the tall, darkly handsome guest on the opposite side of the informal garden aisle. He was hot. Unbelievably hot.

What was it about Australia? Since she’d arrived in Sydney, five days previously, she’d never seen so many good-looking men. But none had triggered her interest like this one.

She’d noticed him as soon as the guests had started arriving—broad-shouldered and imposing, black hair, wearing an immaculately tailored charcoal tuxedo. Spanish? Middle Eastern? Greek? It was difficult to tell from this distance. She’d sneaked more than a few surreptitious glances since, each lingering longer than the last. This time he must have sensed her gaze on him because he turned to meet it.

Mortified, she froze. For a long second her eyes connected with his and he smiled, teeth dazzling white against olive skin, dark brows raised in acknowledgment. She flushed and quickly averted her gaze, looking down with feigned interest at the Order of Service card in her hand.

Despite her reputation in the gossip pages, Natalia wasn’t a flirt, or a ruthless breaker of men’s hearts. In fact she could be cursedly shy when she encountered an attractive man. But there was something about this fellow wedding guest that made her want to smile right back boldly. To flutter her eyelashes and let him know how drawn she was to him.

Instead she twisted the card between her fingers, determined not to look up again. Breach of protocol aside, she’d been warned to stay right under the radar so as not to take attention away from the bride and groom by her presence. That didn’t mean conducting a public, across-the-aisle flirtation with a handsome stranger.

But then she remembered with a giddying rush of excitement that she was here incognito and in disguise. Those constricting rules need not apply to her alter ego. She could do whatever she liked.

No one but a select few were aware that she was Princess Natalia of Montovia, second in line to the throne of a small European kingdom, notorious for her six refusals of proposals of marriage from royal suitors and her seeming determination to stay single.

Her presence could draw unwanted media attention. The press intrusion was here, even in far-away Australia. Her brother Tristan, the Crown Prince, had married a Sydney girl, and every move they made was newsworthy. The condition of Natalia being allowed to accept the invitation to this wedding, where her brother was a groomsman and his wife a bridesmaid, was that she—Princess Heartbreaker—stayed out of the gossip pages.

So Natalia had chosen a full-on disguise for her stay in Sydney. Her shoulder-length dark brown hair had been straightened, lengthened with extensions and lightened to a honey-blonde that complemented her creamy skin. She’d tried coloured contact lenses to darken her blue eyes, but they’d hurt so she’d abandoned them. Her exclusive designer clothes had been replaced with a wardrobe purchased from a smart high street chain—she’d picked outfits that a regular, non-royal twenty-seven-year-old woman would wear—and her priceless jewellery was locked in a safe back home at the palace, save for a single pair of diamond ear studs.

So far, to her delight, no one had guessed her secret. And the more she knew she was getting away with her disguise, the bolder she’d become at testing it.

Not-Princess Natalia—at this moment not bound by her kingdom’s rules—lifted her eyes and turned back to face the handsome guest, to find him still looking at her. She smiled, sure and confident, though she was racked with nerves inside. His answering grin made her flush grow warmer and awareness shimmer through her body.

Natalia had a sense that he was assessing her, in a subtle yet thorough way. Daringly, she did the same to him. On longer examination he was every bit as hot as he had appeared at first glance. Her smile danced at the corners of her mouth and she angled her shoulders towards him, scarcely aware that she was doing so. His grin widened and he nodded almost imperceptibly in acknowledgment of their silent exchange.

Her heart started beating in excitement. What next? Should she—?

At that moment the celebrant declared Eliza and Jake man and wife, and the newlyweds exchanged their first married kiss, to the accompaniment of happy sighs and cheers from their assembled family and friends. Natalia automatically turned towards the flowered arch where her friends were kissing, and watched as the couple started their march back down the grassy aisle. The bride was flaunting a neat baby bump, which was cause for great celebration.

‘Don’t you want to have children?’

Natalia’s mother, the Queen, had asked that question—for what must have been the zillionth time since Natalia had turned eighteen—as she’d reluctantly said farewell to her only daughter.

Of course she did. And she wasn’t averse to marriage. But she wasn’t going to couple up with a man she didn’t love just so she could have children and ensure further heirs to the throne. Besides, at twenty-seven she wasn’t panicking. She simply hadn’t met a man who thrilled her, either before or after the lifting of the edict that royals had to marry royals. In theory, she could now marry anyone she liked. That was if she ever fell in love.

Was it because of the men or herself that she’d never felt that giddying elation? Maybe she had to face up to the fact she wasn’t a ‘falling in love’ person. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her to trust someone enough to fall in love. Certainly there were very few examples of happy relationships in her family to inspire her.

She believed with all her heart that Tristan and Gemma’s happy marriage would last the distance, but it was an exception. Her other brother’s arranged marriage had been trumpeted as a ‘love match’, but his wife had turned out to be cold-hearted and greedy. Her selfishness had, in fact, contributed to her husband’s death. And then there were the King and Queen... As a teenager she’d been devastated to discover her parents’ marriage was a hypocritical sham.

But this wedding here in Sydney was the real deal, and it gave Natalia a skerrick of hope that true love could be found—among non-royals, anyway.

The bride shone her a special smile as she passed between the rows of white chairs set out on the lawn of the mansion. Eliza was one of the few here who knew her real identity. Eliza and Jake were friends of her brother Tristan. And Eliza and Tristan’s wife, Gemma, along with their friend Andie, who was married to the best man, Dominic, ran Sydney’s most successful party planning business, Party Queens.

Gemma now lived in Montovia and participated in the business from a distance. Her new sister-in-law had become a close friend, and Natalia had met the other two Party Queens on their visits to Montovia.

She had been thrilled to receive an invitation to Eliza and Jake’s wedding. Not just because Eliza was a friend, but also because she’d wanted to see Sydney—the place where Tristan had met his wife Gemma, the place where he had spent a glorious few weeks as an anonymous tourist. She’d wanted a rare chance to be anonymous too. To be herself. Possibly even to find herself.

After the rest of the bridal party had passed by, she looked over to the handsome stranger with bated breath, only to see an empty chair.

* * *

Finn was caught up in a swell of well-wishers, all rushing past him to congratulate the bride and groom. As they thronged around him he lost sight of the beautiful woman across the aisle. By the time he’d elbowed past the other guests he could only see the back of her head as she hugged Eliza, her long blonde hair glinting golden in the afternoon sun. Then he himself got caught up in conversation with the best man, Dominic.

Weddings tended to bring out the grouch in Finn. He was what people delighted in calling ‘an eligible bachelor’. He’d even, to his horror, been included in a well-publicised list of ‘Bachelor Millionaires’—but he was a private person and loathed being in the spotlight. A wedding seemed to bring out matchmaking efforts in even the most unlikely of his friends and acquaintances, all keen to introduce him to potential spouses in whom he had no interest whatsoever. Marriage was not on the cards for him. Not in the foreseeable future.

Thankfully, property developer Dominic wanted to talk business, not potential brides, but real estate was the last thing on Finn’s mind. He ground his teeth in frustration at the effort of being polite when all he ached to do was find an opportunity to see her again—the gorgeous sexy woman in the dark pink dress that hugged her curvaceous form. He had to see if she’d felt the same zing of attraction. That instant awareness that hadn’t struck him for a long, long time.

After Dominic went on his way Finn politely but impatiently brushed off a stranger who wanted to gush about how romantic the wedding was and headed for the veranda of the beautiful old Kirribilli house where the reception was being held. He had one thing on his mind—to find that lovely woman before some other guy did.

* * *

Where was he? Natalia searched the throng of guests, the women wearing a rainbow of dresses, the men in shades of grey and black. No hot guy.

Eliza had ridden up the makeshift aisle on a pony, and a cluster of people had gathered to admire the little mare tethered under the shade cast by the late-afternoon shadow of a towering fig tree. Hot guy wasn’t there either.

Natalia was five-foot-five in bare feet. Her stilettos gave her some height advantage over the crowd, but not enough to locate him.

She headed for the mansion where the meal was to be served. Then climbed the short flight of wide, sandstone steps to a veranda that gave a view of the garden to the harbour beyond.

From her new vantage point she scanned the throng in the garden below. Dignity, Natalia, dignity. A princess did not chase after a man—no matter how devastatingly attractive she found him.

She rested her hands lightly on the veranda railing, so any onlooker would think she had paused to admire the view of the Opera House with its white sails on the opposite shore of the harbour. Then she tensed at the sudden awareness that tingled along her spine. All her senses seemed to scream an alert.

Him.

Slowly she turned around. The hot guy stood behind her, framed by the arched sandstone windows of the mansion. Just steps away he looked even more handsome than at first glance. Sculpted cheekbones, and his eyes... Not the dark brown she had expected but lighter—hazel, perhaps. A sensuous mouth that lifted in a half smile.

He held a flute of champagne in each hand, tiny bubbles floating rapidly upwards like the excitement rising in her. He stepped forward and offered her a glass. ‘I snagged these from a waiter heading out to the garden.’

That voice! Deep, resonant, husky... The tone sent shivers through her. Her hands felt suddenly clammy with nerves. But it would be most un-princess-like behaviour to wipe them down the sides of her dress. She reached out for the flute, hoping it wouldn’t slide out of her grip. The movement brought her closer to him, so close that she caught his scent—spicy, fresh, male—so potent it caused her pulse to quicken.

She wanted to close her eyes and breathe him in. Instead she took a breath to steady herself. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.

‘Most welcome. You’re a friend of the groom?’ he said.

How did he know that? Panic seized her voice, choking any possible reply.

‘You were on the groom’s side of the aisle,’ he prompted.

‘Yes. Yes, of course. Jake is a family friend.’

Tristan, Jake and Dominic had been friends for years, having met on the ski slopes of Montovia long before their Party Queens spouses had come along. Jake had been Tristan’s best man at his wedding to Gemma.

But Natalia didn’t want any questions about their connection. ‘You, of course, were on the bride’s side.’

‘I went to university with Eliza. Since then I’ve done business with her party planning company.’

‘I met her quite recently,’ Natalia said.

Eliza had been one of Gemma’s bridesmaids at her brother’s spectacular wedding in the grand cathedral the previous year. Just the kind of wedding her parents intended for her. Dread squeezed her at the very thought. Marriage Montovian royal-style seemed more like a trap than a gateway to happy-ever-after.

‘Eliza’s lovely, and she seems so happy.’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘And Jake’s a good guy.’

Natalia had devised a cover story for her alter ego, but it didn’t go very deep. Stalling, she gulped some champagne as she tried to keep the details straight in her mind.

Hot Guy seemed to have no such hesitation. He transferred his glass to his left hand and offered his right. ‘Finn O’Neill,’ he said, by way of introduction.

Natalie stared at him, spluttered over her champagne, and coughed. Then she quickly recovered herself. ‘I’m sorry, I—’

‘You were startled by my name? Don’t worry. You’re not the first and I’d lay a hefty bet you won’t be the last. Irish father; Chinese grandfather and Italian grandmother on my mother’s side.’

So that was where those exotic good looks came from. ‘No. I...er...’ She started a polite fib, then thought better of it. To conceal her identity she was being forced to fib. No need to do so unnecessarily. ‘Yes, I was surprised. Your name doesn’t match your looks. Not like the Irish guys I’ve met, that is.’

‘I’m a fine example of Australia’s multicultural population,’ he said lightly.

He was a fine example of a male.

Before she could dig herself in any further, she took his hand in a firm shake. ‘Natalie Gerard,’ she said. Natalie seemed a less memorable name than Natalia; Gerard was her father the King’s name. She actually didn’t have a surname—she was simply known as Natalia, Princess of Montovia.

‘By the sound of your accent, you’re English,’ he said.

‘Er...yes,’ she said.

She didn’t like to lie. But she’d promised her family not to blow her cover to anyone, in case of leaks to the media. Princess Heartbreaker in disguise at a wedding would be the kind of thing they liked to pounce on. So lie she must—though she’d rather think of it as tactical evasion.

Thank heaven for the English-born tutor married to a Montovian woman who had taught her perfectly accented English from the time she’d started to speak her first words. She also spoke impeccable German, French and Italian, with passable Spanish. So for today she would be English.

‘Do you live here?’ Finn asked.

She shook her head. ‘Sadly I’m just visiting on vacation. I wish it were longer. Sydney is fabulous.’

‘Spring is a good time to visit,’ he said.

‘Yes, it is,’ she said. ‘I’m loving it here.’

Just plain Natalie, a tourist, had spent the last three days riding the ferries, visiting the beaches, taking in a concert at the Opera House. She’d revelled in her freedom and anonymity—even though her two bodyguards were always at a discreet distance. As they were here now, masquerading as waiters.

Perhaps Finn had snagged the champagne from one of them. She was so used to the constant presence of household staff and bodyguards she scarcely noticed their presence.

‘Where do you live in England?’ Finn asked.

‘London,’ she said.

The royal family had a house in Mayfair, where she’d lived for a while when she was studying. Until the paparazzi had snapped her staggering out of a nightclub after one too many cocktails and she’d been recalled in disgrace to the palace before she’d been able to finish her degree in architecture.

‘Whereabouts in London?’ he said. ‘I visit there quite often.’

No need to get too specific... Natalia chose to answer the second part of his question instead. ‘What takes you to London?’

‘My import/export business,’ he said.

Which could, she thought, mean anything.

‘What do you do?’ he said.

Nothing she could share with him. Being Princess of Montovia was pretty much a full-time role. She wasn’t allowed to be employed—rather had thrown herself into charity work.

Her main occupation was with the charity she’d started, which auctioned worn-once designer clothes and accessories donated by her and others in her circle to benefit her particular interest—the promotion of education for girls wherever they lived in the world.

Her online fashion parades and auctions had taken off way beyond anything she’d anticipated. Donations of fashion items now came from wealthy aristocrats and celebrities from all over Europe. Bids came from all around the world. The administration was undertaken by volunteers, so profits went straight to where they were needed. She was proud of what she had achieved through her own initiative. But that had nothing to do with Natalie Gerard.

The fact was, she’d been destined for a strategic marriage rather than a career. Especially after the tragic accident nearly three years ago that had robbed Montovia of her older brother Carl and his family, and pushed her up to second in line to the throne after Tristan, now Crown Prince.

Her life had changed radically after the tragedy, with her parents now obsessed with maintaining the succession to the throne. She’d had to work within their restrictions, not wanting to add to their intense grief in mourning their son and two-year-old grandson, still reeling from her own grief, not to mention the outpouring of grief throughout the country.

But she was beginning to weary of doing everything by the royal rules. She wanted her own life.

She couldn’t share any of that with Finn. Instead she aimed for impartial chit-chat. ‘I work in fashion,’ she said.

That wasn’t too much of a stretch of the truth. Organising her high-end fashion auctions was a job, if not a paid one.

‘Retail or wholesale?’

‘Retail.’

Her role often required several changes of formal clothing a day. That involved a lot of shopping in the fashion capitals of Europe. In fact, that had kicked off her idea for the auctions—she and other people in the public eye were expected by fashion-watchers to appear at functions in a different outfit each time. That meant expensive garments were often only worn once or twice.

‘You fit the part.’

His eyes lit with admiration as he looked at her simple sheath dress in a deep rose-pink overlaid with lace. It wasn’t silk, but it was a very good knock-off of a French designer whose couture originals took up considerable hanging space in her apartment-sized humidity-controlled closet back at the palace before they were moved on to auction.

‘Thank you,’ she said, inordinately pleased at the compliment. ‘What do you import and export?’ she asked, deflecting his attention from her.

‘High-end foods and liquor,’ he said. ‘It takes me all around the world.’

She nodded. ‘Hence your work with Party Queens?’

‘Exactly,’ he said.

She finished her champagne at the same time he did, then placed her glass on the wide veranda railing. Someone would be along to pick it up.

But Finn reached for it. ‘I’ll put that glass somewhere safer,’ he said.

Mistake, she thought as he took the glasses and placed them on a table just inside the doorway. Regular girl Natalie would not be used to household staff picking up after her.

Finn was back within seconds. ‘Tell me, Natalie, are you here with a partner?’

He glanced at the bare fingers of her left hand—without realising he did so, she thought. She did the same to him. No rings there either.

‘No partner,’ she said.

‘Good,’ he said, with a decisiveness that thrilled her.

‘Either here at the wedding or in my life.’

‘Me neither,’ he said. ‘Single. Never married.’

Her spine tingled at this less than subtle trumpeting of his single status. She was single and available too. For today.

Maybe for tonight.

‘Likewise,’ she said.

This handsome, handsome man must be thirtyish. How had such a catch evaded matrimony?

‘D’you think they’ve put us at the singles table for the meal?’ he asked.

‘I have no idea,’ she said. ‘I... I hope so.’

‘If they haven’t I’ll switch every place card in the room to make sure we’re seated together.’

She laughed. ‘Seriously?’

‘Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I want to sit with the most beautiful woman at the wedding?’

She laughed again. ‘You flatter me.’

He was suddenly very serious. ‘There’s no flattery. I noticed you as soon as you walked across the grass to take your seat. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.’

She could act coy, not admit that she’d noticed him too, flirt a little, play hard to get... But she’d never met a man like him. Never felt that instant tug of attraction. And time was in very short supply.

‘I noticed you too,’ she said simply.

For a long moment she looked up into his eyes—up close a surprising sea-green—and he looked down into hers. His gaze was serious, intent, totally focused on her. The air between them shimmered with possibility. Her heart set up a furious beating. She felt giddy with the awareness that she could be on the edge of something momentous, something life-changing. He frowned as if puzzled. Did he feel it too?

‘Natalie, I—’

But before he could say any more Gemma came up the steps, Tristan hovering solicitously behind her. Her sister-in-law smiled politely, as if Natalia were just another guest, although her eyes gleamed with the knowledge of their shared secret. Tristan’s nod gave his sister a subtle warning. Be careful. As if she needed it. She was only too aware of her duty.

Duty. Duty. Duty. It had governed her life from the moment she was born. Duty to her family, to the Crown, to her country. What about her duty to herself? Her needs, her wants, her happiness? She was twenty-seven years old and she’d toed the line for too long. If she wanted to flirt with the most gorgeous man she had met in a long time—perhaps ever—she darn well would, and duty be damned.

She took a step closer to Finn. Smiled up at him as Tristan went past. The rigid set of her brother’s shoulders was the only sign that he had noticed her provocative gesture. But Finn mistook her smile for amusement.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘It isn’t every day you go to a wedding where the groomsman is a prince and the bridesmaid a princess and everyone is pretending they’re regular folk like you or me. That’s despite the security detail both out on the road and down on the water to keep the media scrum at bay.’

‘Bizarre, isn’t it?’ she said lightly.

In fact, it was rare that she went to a wedding where the bride and groom weren’t royalty or high-ranking aristocracy. This wedding between people without rank was somewhat of a novelty.

‘Bizarre, but kinda fun,’ Finn said. ‘When else would our paths cross so closely with royalty? Even if the Prince is from some obscure kingdom no one has ever heard of.’

Obscure? Natalia was about to huff in defence of her country. Montovia might be small, in both land mass and population, but it was wealthy, influential and punched above its weight on matters of state. But for today she was just plain Natalie—not Princess Natalia. And she wanted to enjoy the company of this very appealing Aussie guy without getting into any kind of debate that might give the game away.

‘A prince is a prince, I guess, wherever he hails from,’ she said.

‘And a princess always adds a certain glamour to an occasion,’ Finn said drily.

‘Indeed,’ she said.

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. If only he knew.

‘Talking of fun...let’s go inside and swap those place cards if we need to,’ she said.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said.

Startled, she almost corrected him. Ma’am was a term of address reserved for her mother, the Queen, not her. But of course he was only using the word generically. She really had to stay on the alert if she were to successfully keep up the act.

She went to tuck her hand into his arm but decided against it. If she touched him—even the slightest touch—she wasn’t sure how she’d react. She’d only known Finn O’Neill for a matter of minutes but she already knew she wanted him.

He could be the one.

CHAPTER TWO

FINN FOLLOWED NATALIE along the veranda towards the ballroom of the sandstone mansion where the formal part of the wedding reception would shortly take place. He couldn’t take his eyes off her shapely swaying hips. How could she walk so surely and confidently in those sky-high heels? Maybe it was the sexy shoes that gave her bottom that enticing little wiggle. Maybe—

She stopped abruptly, so that they collided.

‘Sorry,’ he said automatically. Although he wasn’t sorry at all to be suddenly in such close proximity to this enchanting woman.

‘No need to apologise,’ she said, not moving away from him.

Her blue eyes glinted with mischief and her lush mouth tilted on the edge of laughter. He was close enough to catch her perfume...sweet, enticing and heady. She didn’t seem in the slightest bit disconcerted by the sudden intimacy. Whereas he was overwhelmed by a rush of sensual awareness. He ached to be closer to her. To kiss her.

He took a step back from temptation, cleared his throat. ‘Why did you stop?’

‘I believe this is the room where the meal is to be served,’ she said in a conspiratorial tone, gesturing to where wide French doors had been flung open to the veranda. She glanced furtively around her in an exaggerated dramatic way.

‘Coast is clear,’ he said, amused by her playfulness.

Drinks were still being served in the garden. They had time before the other guests would flood into the ballroom.

He followed her as she tiptoed with dramatic exaggeration to the threshold of the room. Over her shoulder he could see circular tables set up for a formal meal, with a rectangular bridal party table up top. All elegantly decorated with the Party Queens trademark flair.

‘No one in there,’ Natalie whispered.

‘Okay. Commence Operation Place Card Swap. We’ll make a dash for it. You—’

She put her finger up against her lips. ‘Shh... We have to be covert here. No bride likes her arrangements to be tampered with. We can’t be caught. You go in—I’ll guard the door.’

Finn found Natalie’s place card first and filched it from its silver card holder. Then he searched for the place that had been assigned to him. As anticipated, he had not been seated anywhere near Natalie—four tables away, on the other side of the room, in fact.

Predictably, Eliza had placed him near Prue, a friend of hers from university, who was an attractive enough girl but who didn’t interest him in the slightest—in spite of Eliza’s matchmaking efforts. There was also the fact that Prue often played fast and loose with the truth, and if there was one thing Finn loathed it was a liar. Yet Eliza persisted.

That was the trouble with weddings. There was some kind of myth—promulgated by women—that a wedding was the perfect place to meet a life partner. Love being in the air and presumably contagious. As a result, weddings brought out their worst matchmaking instincts. As if, at the age of thirty-two, the combined efforts of his Italian, Chinese and Irish families to try and get him to settle down weren’t enough, without his friends getting in on the act.

Marriage didn’t interest him. Not now. He’d lost the urge when his first serious love had broken both their engagement and his heart. No one he’d met since had made him want to change his mind. Besides, he was in the midst of such a rapid expansion of his business, opening to exciting new markets, and he did not want the distraction of a serious relationship. International trade could be tumultuous. He had to be on top of his game.

He removed Prue’s place card and deftly replaced it with the one that spelled out Natalie Gerard. Things were definitely looking up. Now he’d be sitting next to the only woman at the wedding who held any appeal for him. The only woman who had sparked his interest in a long time.

‘I’ll put this place card where yours came from and no one will be any the wiser,’ he explained to his accomplice, who had now stepped cautiously into the room.

‘Except Eliza,’ Natalie said.

‘Who I doubt will even notice the swap,’ he said.

Natalie, for all her bravado, seemed unexpectedly hesitant. A slight frown creased her forehead. ‘Is it really the right thing to do?’

‘To sit next to me? Without a doubt.’

‘I mean to mess up the seating plan.’

‘A minor infringement of the wedding planner’s rulebook,’ he said.

‘An infringement all the same. I... I usually play by the rules.’ She averted her gaze, looked down at the pointy toes of her shoes.

‘Perhaps it’s time to live dangerously?’ he said.

Her frown deepened. ‘I’m not sure I know how to do that.’

‘Live dangerously?’

She looked back up to face him. ‘Yes,’ she said uncertainly. The mischievous glint in her blue eyes had dimmed to something distressingly subdued.

‘Then let me be your tutor.’

‘In the art of living dangerously?’ she said.

‘Exactly,’ he said.

She sighed. ‘You can’t imagine how tempting that sounds.’

The edge to her voice surprised him. ‘Don’t you ever give in to temptation?’ he challenged.

Her smile returned, slow and thoughtful, with a sensuous twist of her lips. ‘It depends who’s doing the tempting.’

She was so tempting. Finn held up his hand. ‘Consider the position of your tutor in Living Dangerously for Beginners to be officially filled,’ he said.

She laughed, low and throaty. ‘I hope you find me an apt student.’

He hoped so too.

‘We’ll start by finishing the place card swap. Why don’t you do it? Your first “living dangerously” challenge.’

It would be a step towards others infinitely more interesting.

‘That’s not so dangerous,’ she said, with a dismissive sweep of her perfectly manicured hand.

There was a touch of arrogance to her gesture that surprised and intrigued him. ‘You think so? The sun is setting and I think I can hear people coming up the steps to the veranda. You’ll have to be quick if you don’t want to be caught in the act and bring down the wrath of the bride on your head.’

Any hint of haughtiness gone, Natalie made a sound somewhere between a squeal and a giggle that he found delightful. Without another word he held out Prue’s place card.

Natalie snatched it from him. ‘Mission accepted,’ she said.

He watched as she quickly click-clacked on her high heels—hips swaying—to the table where she’d originally been seated and slid the card into place. When she returned she gave him a triumphant high five.

‘Mission accomplished.’

‘Well done. Now I won’t have to find excuses all evening to visit you at your table.’

‘And I won’t need to take any opportunity to seek you out at yours.’

She coloured, high on her cheekbones, in a blush that seemed at odds with her provocative words.

‘Would you have done that?’ he asked. ‘Seriously?’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘You are by far the most attractive man here.’

She seemed such an accomplished flirt, and yet her blush deepened and her eyelashes fluttered as she voiced the compliment.

‘Thank you,’ he said.

Considering the men of the bridal party were all good-looking billionaires—one a prince—Finn could only be flattered. And gratified that the instant attraction wasn’t only on his side. He wasn’t a fanciful man, but insinuating itself into his mind was a thought, wispy and insubstantial but growing in vigour, that this—she—was somehow meant to be.

‘You know I intend to monopolise you all evening?’

‘Monopolise me all you want,’ she said slowly.

She was looking up at him with what he could only read as invitation, although there was an endearing uncertainty there too.

‘You won’t be able to escape me.’

‘Do you see me running?’ she murmured.

Her gaze met his for a long moment, and he wasn’t sure of the message in those extraordinary blue eyes.

Then she smiled. ‘Talking of escape—thank you for rescuing me from the table of people I don’t know at all but who I suspect are Eliza’s elderly relatives.’

‘Don’t speak too soon. We don’t know who we’ve got sitting at my table.’

‘Yes, we do,’ she said.

He frowned. ‘How did you—?’

She spoke over him. ‘Each other. And that’s all that counts.’

The words hung between them, seemingly escalating their flirtation to a higher and more exciting level of connection. Finn felt a buzz of excitement and anticipation.

‘Quite right. Your first exercise in living dangerously has paid off. I don’t care who else is on the table so long as your place card is still next to mine.’

Attending this wedding solo was more duty than pleasure, fond as he was of Eliza, and keen as he was to keep up his contact with Party Queens. But he wasn’t one for wasting time on social chit-chat with strangers he might never see again.

An evening spent in the enchanting Natalie’s company was a different matter altogether. Enjoying the pleasure of her company was now at the forefront of his mind.

Finn was about to tell her so, but there was a sudden burst of chatter from outside on the veranda. ‘The other guests are starting to arrive. We shouldn’t be seen in here.’

Natalia’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘We’ve got time to get out through that connecting door.’

He reached out his hand and pulled her towards him. ‘Let’s go before they realise we’ve been up to no good. Then we’ll march back in with the other guests and take our places at the table.’

‘Innocent of any crime of swapping seats,’ she said.

Not so innocent were his thoughts of where he hoped the evening might lead.

* * *

Natalie couldn’t have borne it if she had been forced to sit on the other side of the room from Finn. She didn’t want to waste a minute of this wedding away from him.

Tristan had probably had a hand in where she had been placed in the seating arrangements and might not be pleased at the switch. Too bad. Princess Natalia might have to sit dutifully where she was directed—not so just plain Natalie. She was going to grab this chance to be with Finn, no matter if she got dressed down for it later.

Tristan took his role of Crown Prince seriously. That meant protecting her. Since the loss of their brother, she and Tristan had looked out for each other. But sometimes she had to remind him that she didn’t take kindly to being bossed around by her brother.

With Finn holding her hand, she made it safely out of the room without detection. Just the casual touch of his hand clasping hers sent shivers of anticipation through her. Never, ever had she felt this kind of thrill.

She was pleased when he didn’t drop the connection after they’d made it to safety. Then, together, they strolled casually back into the ballroom alongside a group of other guests.

Each time she looked up to catch his eye she had to suppress a laugh, and saw that he did too. She felt like a naughty schoolgirl. Although in the private all-girls school she had attended there hadn’t been anyone as handsome as Finn to get into mischief with.

Their surreptitious work had paid off—the swapped name cards were still in place. Finn was hers for the duration of the celebration. She was scarcely able to believe that this gorgeous man was real and seemed to want to be with her as much as she did with him.

‘We did it,’ he said in a low undertone after they’d taken their seats at the table. ‘I caught Eliza glaring at me, but there’s nothing she can do about where we’re sitting from where she is, way up there on the bridal table.’

‘Clever us,’ Natalia said, holding his gaze and revelling in the warmth of his smile.

So this is what it’s like to be really attracted to a man.

Her thoughts were filled with nothing but him. Insta lust. That was what her English-speaking friends called the sudden overwhelming desire to be close to a man. But it wasn’t just a physical attraction. She liked Finn more than she could have imagined she could like someone in such a short space of time. Yes, she ached to touch him, to feel his smooth olive skin under her fingers, and wondered what it would be like to kiss him. But she also wanted to talk with him, listen to him, laugh with him, find out all she could about him.

She had never felt like this about a man before. Certainly never for any of the six men of noble birth she had rejected as potential husbands. Not even for the boy she’d had a crush on as a teenager in London.

It hadn’t just been her being caught out at a nightclub that had seen her recalled home to Montovia. She’d also been seen kissing Danny—a fellow student definitely not on the palace-approved list. It had hurt when she hadn’t heard from him again, and part of her heart had shut down, never to recover. It hadn’t been until much later that she’d discovered he’d been paid off by the palace to disappear from her life.

Her family’s betrayal had added a whole new level of hurt.

Back then, the law that forbade her and her brothers from marrying someone not of noble birth had still been in place. She’d discovered they’d done the same thing to Tristan—paying off the parents of an English girl he’d loved and moving her to another part of the country. Tristan had been understandably bitter at their interference. Especially considering what a sham their parents’ marriage was—the King still had a long-time mistress.

The history of unhappy, loveless marriages in their family had made both her and Tristan deeply cynical about marriage. Fortunately Tristan had found Gemma. For Natalia there had been no one.

On a trip to Africa the previous year, to visit a girls’ school that her charity had funded, she had travelled with an attractive photographer. Sparks had flown between them—not the kind of powerful attraction she’d felt instantly for Finn, but sparks just the same. But he had made it clear he would never get involved with her. Not when he knew his life would come under scrutiny and he would have to play second fiddle to a princess. Natalia had appreciated his honesty but had felt wounded because she hadn’t even been given a chance.

That had been back then. Now Natalia wanted to shut the rest of the world out, so it shrank to just her and Finn. She resented the time spent chatting with the other six guests at their table. But politeness dictated that she distributed her time evenly. All that royal training in graciousness and good manners didn’t go away just because she was in disguise.

The other guests were all pleasant people from Eliza’s pre-Party Queens life. Natalia made it a point to chat with each of them. Finn joined in too, charming and thoughtful in his conversation. The others seemed to assume she and Finn were a couple, and neither of them did anything to make them think any differently.

One of the women was Chinese, and Finn surprised Natalia by exchanging a few words with her in her own language. ‘You sound fluent in Chinese,’ Natalia said when he turned his attention back to her.

‘Thankfully, yes,’ he said. ‘One of my biggest new export markets is mainland China,’ he explained. ‘It’s a great advantage to be able to speak Mandarin.’

‘I can imagine,’ she said.

‘My grandfather spoke to me in Chinese when I was a child and my mother insisted I study the language formally when I was older. I studied Italian to please my grandmother—also useful for the business. And my sister Bella studied both languages too.’

Natalia wanted to tell him she was also multilingual, even chat to him in Italian, but it was too risky in case she tripped up over the details of a made-up background. The less she said about herself, the better. Pretending to be someone else, denying the truth about herself, wasn’t as easy as she’d thought. Not when she really wanted to impress Finn.

‘Sounds like your grandparents were very influential in your life,’ she said.

Hers had been too. Her late paternal grandfather had been King when she was a child and had ruled his family like a tyrant, although he’d been seen as a benevolent ruler of the country. She’d been terrified of him. Thankfully her mother and father, despite their differences and the restrictions of their royal duties, had been united in being loving parents to her and her brothers.

‘My wonderful grandparents are both still around, fortunately,’ Finn said. ‘I have them to thank for my start in the business.’

Natalia hadn’t mourned the death of her grandfather, and her grandmother had remained a distant, disapproving figure. She’d never known her mother’s parents.

‘Really?’ she said, fascinated to know every detail of his life in the short time she had with him. Through him she could view life through a very different lens. ‘I’d love to hear about it.’

‘My grandfather and grandmother met each other in high school. It was like Romeo and Juliet set in the western suburbs of Sydney. His family owned the local Chinese restaurant—her family the Italian. Neither family was happy for their child to marry out of their culture—the old migrant story.’

Natalia leaned closer, sensing a real-life romance very different from her own family history of loveless arranged marriages. She was better off being single than being pushed into that kind of marriage—although to be fair to her parents, they had not pressured her, even when she’d said no to each of the unsuitable and unlovable six.

Anyway, how could you be sure of love? Her late brother Carl’s marriage to Sylvie, the daughter of a duke, had supposedly been a ‘love match’. Carl had been head over heels with her, and she’d seemed the same with him. But once she’d had her lavish wedding in the cathedral she’d proved to be greedy and avaricious, more in love with the wealth and status of being Crown Princess than with her husband. And there was no divorce for Montovian royalty. Make a bad choice and you were stuck with it for life.

‘It must have been difficult for them if they had to defy their families,’ she said.

‘They say it only made them all the more determined to be together,’ said Finn. ‘Once they were twenty-one they could marry without their families’ consent and they did. Fortunately they were both passionate about food, and my grandparents ended up running both restaurants. Their parents imported authentic ingredients from Asia and Europe, supplying other restaurants too. My nonna was a canny businesswoman and she soon grew the import side of the business so that it eclipsed the actual restaurants and they sold them.’

‘So where did you come in?’

‘I inherited their interest in food. However, my family also had a passion for education. I did a business degree at university, but worked all my vacations in the business. I went full-time when I graduated. I soon saw the opportunities for export as well as import. My grandparents handed the business over to me and I expanded it way beyond its original parameters. They still have a stake in it, but they’re enjoying their retirement. I take all the risks.’

‘Didn’t your parents and your sister feel they’d been passed over?’

The rules for inheritance were very strict in Montovia—for everyone, not just royals.

‘Not at all. My mother is a pharmacist. My father has his own construction company. My sister works with him. Seems we like keeping things in the family.’

‘Sounds like your family is very close.’

‘Yeah. It is. But that’s enough about me. What about you?’

‘My family story isn’t as interesting as yours,’ she said.

Of course it was—an unbroken line of rulers stretching back hundreds of years—but she couldn’t share that.

‘Just ordinary, really. I have a brother.’ It was too painful to mention her other brother, whom she had adored; his loss still cut too deeply. ‘My parents take rather too much interest in my life—which is annoying, considering I’m twenty-seven—but I guess that’s okay.’

‘It would be worse if they didn’t take an interest, wouldn’t it?’ he said with a smile.

‘True,’ she said, returning his smile and gazing into his green eyes for rather longer than was polite on a shared table.

Their heads had been bowed closely together, their voices low for the duration of the conversation. Reluctantly she broke her gaze away and returned her attention to the other people at the table, as good manners dictated.

A pleasant middle-aged couple sat opposite them—Eliza’s neighbours. Natalia and Finn chatted with them about how much they were enjoying the meal.

Once the plates for the main course had been cleared, the woman—Kerry—sat back in her chair. Her narrow-eyed gaze went from Natalia to Finn and back again. ‘So, is all the romance of this lovely wedding giving you two ideas?’ she said.

‘I beg your pardon?’ said Natalia, completely taken aback.

‘You and Finn. Any plans for a wedding of your own?’

Natalia wasn’t often lost for a diplomatic reply to an unexpected question. But the Australian woman’s blunt questioning had her floundering. She looked up to Finn for help, only to see him struggling too.

‘No plans yet,’ he finally choked out.

‘You haven’t popped the question?’

‘No!’ he said.

‘How long have you been together?’

‘We...er...we only just met,’ Natalia said, flushing hot with embarrassment.

The woman frowned. ‘Really? Forgive me. It’s just that...’

‘Just that what?’ Natalia prompted, suddenly curious.

‘I’ve been around a while, and I can usually tell a perfectly matched couple. You two look so right together.’

Natalia gasped. She didn’t dare look at Finn, and was at a complete loss as to what to say. But Finn diplomatically came to the rescue.

‘I think we’re right together too,’ he said smoothly. ‘But it’s very early days.’

Natalia wished she could sink through the floor.

The woman smiled. ‘I see a wedding and I’m never wrong,’ she said, before turning her attention to her husband, who’d been trying to shush her.

Mortified, Natalia kept her eyes on her plate.

‘Don’t worry about her,’ Finn murmured in her ear. ‘She seems harmless. Unfortunately I seem to attract matchmakers. Weddings bring out the worst in them.’

If he only knew the level of matchmaking that had gone on—and continued to go on—when it came to Princess Natalia of Montovia. Finn O’Neill from Sydney, Australia—a merchant—would seem, in the eyes of her parents and the royal court, like a very unsuitable match indeed.

She was glad when the speeches started and she was able to turn away from the odd woman and any talk of matchmaking and marriage to face the top table.

CHAPTER THREE

THE SPEECHES WERE over and the bride and groom were dancing their first dance together. All the guests had been invited on to the dance floor to share the bridal waltz. At last Finn had Natalie in his arms—if only as a dance partner.

There was something intimate about an old-fashioned waltz. With her hand on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, she was kissing-distance close, her flowery perfume already familiar but no less alluring. Her body so near to his was warm, soft, sensual, and her innate rhythm kept them perfectly in step.

‘You dance very well,’ she said.

‘I tried to get out of lessons at school but there was no escape.’

‘You learned to waltz at school?’

‘Private boys’ school. Ballroom dancing was seen as a social skill. But I only waltz at weddings.’ He twirled her around the room until she was breathless and laughing. ‘You’re a good dancer yourself.’

‘I also had lessons,’ she said.

Finn noticed she didn’t elaborate in any of her answers. Perhaps her life really had been ordinary, even dull, although he wondered how someone as poised and vivacious as Natalie could come from dullness. Maybe she hadn’t had the same opportunities in life he had been fortunate enough to have. Or the truth might be that her life hadn’t been very happy and she was reticent about reliving an unhappy past even in social conversation.

Sometimes he was guilty of taking for granted the happy and supportive family life he enjoyed. This wedding—the happiness Eliza had found with Jake—had got him thinking. He wasn’t as immune to wedding fever as he’d thought. Now, at the age of thirty-two, perhaps he did need to shake himself up, settle down and start a family of his own.

His nonna certainly thought that was the case. His broken engagement was ten years behind him—he could not in all reason continue to blame it for his aversion to marriage. He had to name it for what it was: an excuse—one he used to convince himself as well as others. The truth was that he hadn’t met the right woman. Not one he could contemplate sharing his life with. When he did, he would willingly make that walk down the aisle. But he wouldn’t compromise. And it wouldn’t be any time soon—not when the business took up all his energy and time.

Perhaps...

He couldn’t let himself think there was any chance of Natalie being that woman. No matter what that crazy Kerry had said. No matter how he’d found himself agreeing with her that he and Natalie did feel right together. Not when Natalie was English. A tourist. Her home a twenty-two-hour plane ride away.

Long-distance dating had been a disaster with his former fiancée Chiara, the girl he’d met in Italy ten years back. Her level of treachery had left him bitter and broken.

The frequency of their phone calls had decreased. He’d been preoccupied with exams. But the day exams finished, on impulse he’d decided to make a surprise visit to Italy and booked a flight for the next day.

Chiara had been surprised, all right. Not only had she found herself another guy, she was pregnant. But she’d still hung on to Finn’s engagement ring. He had vowed never, ever to try long-distance again. This—Natalie—was purely for the short term. He had to keep telling himself that.

‘Those lessons paid off,’ he said to Natalie now. ‘You’re very graceful.’

It felt as if they were dancing together in their own bubble of awareness. But the reality was that they were dancing alongside other guests. When would he be able to get her alone?

She looked up at him. ‘That woman... Kerry. It was kind of weird, what she said.’

‘Yes. But I wasn’t lying when I agreed with her that something seems right about us being together.’ He could hardly believe he was saying this to a woman he had only known for a matter of hours.

Her blue eyes widened. ‘You meant that?’

‘About the rightness? I feel it. Do you?’

Her forehead pleated in a frown. ‘Yes. I... I think I do. But I don’t understand—’

Finn felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to find a beaming Eliza and Jake cutting in on him and Natalie for their obligatory dances. He had no choice but to relinquish his intimate hold on the most gorgeous of women. He cursed under his breath that he hadn’t got a chance to hear what Natalie had been about to say.

Reluctantly he let her go and watched Natalie waltz away with Jake, smiling up at him. A spasm of jealousy shuddered through him at the sight of his beautiful dance partner in the arms of another man—even though Jake was a newlywed husband who adored his new wife.

What was happening here?

He’d only just met Natalie. He hardly knew her. But he’d never felt such a connection with a woman—if that was what you called something so compelling. He’d dated. He’d had steady girlfriends. He’d been engaged. But none of those relationships had started with a lightning bolt from nowhere.

‘Surely you can take your eyes off her for long enough to speak to me?’ said Eliza drily as he danced with his friend the bride.

‘What do you mean?’ he blustered.

‘You’re mesmerised by Natalie. She’s beautiful. Charming. I get it. But you need to back off from her, Finn. She’s not for you.’

‘This is about Prue, isn’t it?’ He gritted his teeth. ‘How many times do I have to tell you I’m not interested?’

‘Even so, it was rude of you to change those place cards. What on earth got into you to do such a thing?’

Eliza had always been an outspoken kind of friend.

He shrugged. ‘Sorry.’

But he wasn’t sorry at all, and Eliza’s sigh told him she knew it.

‘This can’t end well. That’s all I can say.’

In spite of himself, he felt a chill of foreboding. ‘Are you telling me that Natalie has a criminal record or—?’

Eliza looked aghast. ‘Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Is she after my money?’ he joked.

Ever since that Sunday newspaper had included him in a list of the most eligible young millionaires he’d been plagued by women whose interest in him was purely mercenary. Which had made him even more cynical about relationships.

‘I very much doubt it,’ Eliza said. ‘She’s just not for you. You’ll have to trust me on this.’

He snorted his disbelief. ‘You’re warning me off? In the meantime, your neighbour Kerry is suggesting I propose to Natalie because we seem so perfect together.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah. In fact she asked if we’d made wedding plans.’

‘Really?’ Eliza frowned. ‘Kerry reckons she’s psychic. She... Well, she wouldn’t say that if she didn’t believe it was true.’

Finn rolled his eyes. ‘Psychic? Huh! She seemed nice enough until she came out with that nonsense.’

‘What’s stranger still is that her predictions often come true. The first time she met Jake she told me I’d marry him. It seemed highly unlikely at the time.’

‘Coincidence—a lucky guess,’ Finn said dismissively.

‘Superstitious nonsense?’ Eliza said.

Finn agreed. The trouble was, he came from three cultures where superstitions were taken seriously. By the older generation, that was. Not by him. He was a facts and numbers man.

‘But it was disconcerting,’ he admitted.

‘In this case she’s got it wrong,’ Eliza said. ‘I’ll say it again—back off from Natalie.’

‘You’re seriously warning me, Eliza?’

‘As a friend. Yes.’

‘And as a friend, I appreciate your concern—although I don’t know where it’s coming from. But I’d rather you wished me luck than tossed a bucket of cold water over me. Because I like Natalie and I’m going to continue to enjoy her company for the rest of the evening.’ He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Thank you for the dance. Again, congratulations to you and Jake. Now I’m going to march over there to your husband and claim my dance partner back.’

* * *

Natalia couldn’t remember when she’d so enjoyed a man’s company. Dancing with Finn, their steps perfectly matched, was magic. Chatting with him, laughing with him, deepened the spell.

But the enchanted evening was winding down. The bride and groom had left to a chorus of good wishes for their honeymoon and a long life together. Other guests were starting to disperse and the band had announced the last number for the evening.

Soon the big room would echo with emptiness. Her bodyguards would be discreetly waiting to escort her back to the harbour-side hotel where she was booked in under her Natalie Gerard name. She would never see Finn again. She felt plunged into gloom at the thought.

The last dance was a slow one and they danced it close together. She breathed in the scent of him, felt his warm breath ruffling her hair. All sorts of potential conversations were running through her head. But all she managed was to look up at him and stutter. ‘I... I don’t want the night to end.’

His green eyes met hers. ‘Neither do I.’

Too many hopes and possibilities were trembling on her lips for her actually to articulate the words I want to be with you. But finally she managed to choke out an invitation of sorts—although not the one she really wanted to communicate.

‘I’m staying at a lovely hotel. It has a very smart bar, open all hours. Would you like to come back for a drink? Or a coffee? Or...?’ Her voice trailed away. She was articulate in five languages, yet she was stumbling on a simple offer to extend the evening with a drink in a bar.

He tilted her chin, so his gaze met hers. ‘Yes—to whatever you’re offering.’

‘I have a car and driver booked,’ she said. And there would be another car with the second bodyguard following.

‘Cancel it. Let me drive you in my car,’ he said.

For a moment she was tempted. There was nothing she would have liked better than to be alone with Finn in his car. But ‘living dangerously’ had its limitations. The helicopter accident that had claimed the lives of her brother, his wife and their toddler son had been an accident, not an assassination. But after such a tragedy, security for the remaining heirs had become an obsession with the royal family. She could not dismiss her bodyguards.

‘I can’t do that, I’m afraid,’ she said. She held her breath. Would that be a deal-breaker for Finn? ‘You would have to come in my car. Or we could go to the hotel separately and meet there.’

‘I’ll ride with you.’ Did he, like her, not want to waste a moment of the limited time they had together?

She sighed her relief. ‘Good. My driver is outside. I’ll call him and tell him we’ll have an extra passenger.’

Would Finn wonder why she should do that? Most hire car drivers wouldn’t have to be notified of an extra passenger.

‘I’ll have to go back to the table and retrieve my handbag. My phone’s in it,’ she said.

‘As long as you come straight back to me,’ he said, in that deep husky voice.

‘Count on it,’ she said, thrilled by the look in his eyes.

She called her bodyguards and provided Finn’s name. She knew they would immediately run a security check on him. Perhaps she was being foolish, but she felt sure nothing untoward would come up on the check. She scarcely knew him, but she felt she could trust him to be who he said he was. It was she who was twisting the truth about herself right out of shape.

‘Ready to go?’ Finn said when she returned to his side.

‘The car will come around to the front to pick us up,’ she said.

He put a possessive arm around her as they headed outside. She leaned into him, loving the closeness to his strength and warmth. Then felt bereft when she moved away from him for the sake of appearances as they reached the main doors.

The street level entrance to the grand old house was bracketed by tall palm trees and large old-fashioned carriage lamps. Cars and taxis inched forward on the circular driveway to pick up the departing wedding guests. Natalia spotted the unobtrusive dark sedan driven by her bodyguard in the line-up. The other bodyguard wouldn’t be far away. Their orders were to be close by always.

She could not fault her parents for taking such good care of her, even if it did seem irksome at times. The terrible loss of her brother and his family—not just Carl, but precious two-year-old Rudolph, whom they’d all adored, and his mother Sylvie—had thrown them into despair.

Tristan had been forced to step up into a role he’d felt ill-prepared for. Natalia had been thrust into being second in line to the throne and her freedom had been severely curtailed.

Becoming second in line to a throne after a sudden death was a different matter altogether from being fourth in line behind three male heirs. She’d gone from being relatively independent to being cosseted. And the campaign to get her married to someone suitable and bearing further heirs had been stepped up. She’d begun to feel trapped—albeit in a golden cage—stifled, and more than a touch rebellious. She’d been determined to get permission to leave Montovia and attend this wedding.

Much as she railed against the stepped-up security, she could see the reasons why. But nothing was going to stop her enjoying every minute available to her with Finn.

She followed him to take their places near the cluster of guests waiting for their cars. Thankfully, Tristan and Gemma were not among them to see her looking so cosy with Finn. Her brother and his wife had left early because Gemma hadn’t been feeling well. On the dance floor, Natalia had done nothing to earn her brother’s disapproval. That might not be the case by the time the evening was through.

It soon became obvious that they were going to have to wait a few minutes for her car. She didn’t want to wait a second longer to be alone with Finn.

He seemed to feel the same. ‘We don’t have to get caught up in banal conversation about why the traffic is backed up,’ he said. ‘C’mon.’

Just a few steps took them away from the other guests until they stood shoulder to shoulder by the side of the portico, away from the lamps that lit the entrance, private in the shadow of a large camellia tree studded with luminous white blooms. Huge tubs of exotic flowering orchids hid them from general view—plants she would only see in a greenhouse back home. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine, romantic and intoxicating.

Everything about Australia was so different from her homeland of snow-capped mountains, vast lakes and the sharp scent of pine needles. And Finn was so different from any man she had ever met. Different in such an exciting way.

So far away from home she wasn’t bound by the rules.

She shivered—not just because of a gust of cool, early spring air but because she felt a sudden nervousness about finally being alone with him and what she hoped that might lead to.

He turned to face her. ‘Are you cold?’

‘Just the breeze,’ she said, wrapping her arms around herself, not wanting to betray how she was feeling about him.

Finn stepped closer, his gaze intent on her face. In the poorly lit gloom his eyes gleamed green. She forgot to shiver, almost forgot to breathe, seeing the expression in his eyes, the sensual set of his mouth. Her heart started thudding so erratically that surely he could hear it.

He gently disengaged her arms and held her hands by her side, his hands warm on her bare skin. For a long moment he looked into her eyes, and questions and answers were silently exchanged. Her lips parted in anticipation as he lowered his mouth to hers and she sighed with pleasure as he kissed her.

At last.

His mouth was warm and firm on hers in a kiss that was sure and demanding while gentle at the same time. Her eyes closed as she savoured the closeness of him and she kissed him back.

She was just getting into the rhythm of kisses given and returned when he broke the contact. She swallowed a whimper of dismay at the loss—she didn’t want to sound needy.

‘I’ve wanted to kiss you for hours,’ he said, in that so-sexy deep voice.

‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Kiss you, I mean. Please...please don’t stop.’

He laughed, low and triumphant, and then kissed her again. His touch ignited the hunger for him that had been brewing since the moment she’d seen him. She’d been without a man in her life for a long time, but this wasn’t just hunger for a man’s touch—it was hunger for him, this man, Finn.

His tongue slid between her lips to meet hers. He let go of her hands to put his arms around her and draw her closer. She wound her arms around his neck and returned his kiss, loving the feel of his tongue, his lips, the taste of him. Starbursts of sensation seemed to ignite along every pleasure pathway.

He certainly knew how to kiss. And the fact that he was experienced was a point in his favour. She wanted a man who knew what he was doing.

Yes. Finn was the one. There was no doubt in her mind.

Tonight, she wanted to lose her virginity to Finn.

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