Page 15 of Not-So-Perfect Princess
Maybe there was more to her than Alejandro realized.
Not that it mattered. He picked up his wineglass and sipped. Not much anyway.
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER DINNER, Jules stood out on the terrace alone. Cicadas chirped. A breeze rustled through the palm fronds. The temperature had cooled, but no jacket was required.
She glanced inside through the open terrace doors to see Brandt having a brandy with King Dario. Enrique must still be on his telephone call with the ambassador to the United States.
Jules enjoyed the moment of solitude, a break from the endless conversation at the dinner table. At least the topic had finally turned to something interesting.
With her hands on the railing, Jules gazed up at the night sky. The stars surrounding the almost full moon winked at her. A smile graced her lips.
Perhaps she wasn’t cursed.
Enrique hadn’t said yes to the sailing invitation, but his words “right now” filled Julianna with hope. He’d raced sailboats. Alejandro built racing sailboats. Her wedding date was a couple of weeks away.
What were the odds of so many things working out so well? Not only was she marrying into a family of sailors, she would soon be Enrique’s wife. She could say goodbye to being submissive for the rest of her life.
On La Isla de la Aurora, she would be able to do what she wanted. Personal freedom, yes, but she could also help Brandt to show the world Aliestle was more than an eccentric, backward country. Maybe by doing that, Jules would be able to live up to the spirit of her mother.
Laughter bubbled up inside her.
Oh, she’d visit her homeland, but she would no longer be expected to live by all the restrictive laws and traditions.
The only thing missing was falling in love, but given how well everything else was turning out she believed it would happen. She would fall in love with Enrique and he with her. The same way her parents had fallen in love after their arranged marriage.
It was all going to work out. “I know it will.”
“Know what will?” a male voice asked from the shadows.
Jules jumped. “Who’s there?”
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
She squinted. She couldn’t see anyone, but recognized the voice. “Alejandro.”
He ascended the staircase leading to the terrace where she stood. “Good evening, Julianna.”
Her heart lurched. She fought against the burst of attraction making her mouth go dry. It wasn’t easy.
The stubble on his face made him look so much like a sexy pirate. She could easily imagine him standing behind the wheel of a sailing ship trying to capture a vessel full of gold or pretty wenches.
He’d removed his jacket, tie and cummerbund. The neck of his dress shirt was unbuttoned, the tails hung out of the trousers and his sleeves were rolled up. The high rollers decked out in the finest menswear on the Côte d’Azur had nothing on Alejandro. Even with his bare feet.
“How long have you been lurking in the shadows?” she asked.
He moved gracefully like a dancer or a world-class athlete. “Long enough to hear you laughing.”
Heat enflamed her cheeks. “If I’d known you were there…”
Alejandro crossed the terrace to stand next to her. “No need to apologize for being happy.”
Maybe not for him. But happy wasn’t an emotion Jules was used to experiencing let alone expressing. Sharing that moment embarrassed her. Still she owed him for what he’d said at dinner about sailing and the wedding. But one was more important than the other. “Thank you for suggesting a short engagement.”
“Afraid you’ll change your mind?” he asked.
“Worried Enrique will.”
“Not going to happen.”
Jules wished she shared Alejandro’s confidence. “I’ve heard that before.”
“He’d be a fool, a complete idiot, if he didn’t marry you.”
His compliment made her feel warm all over. His opinion shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it did. “Well, intelligence has never been a requirement to be a crown prince.”
The deep, rich sound of his laughter seeped into her and raised her temperature ten degrees. “You’re a contradiction, Julianna.”
“How so?”
“Your dress and demeanor present the image of a proper, dutiful princess, who dots her I’s and crosses her T’s. Yet you show glimpses…”
