Page 8 of Not-So-Perfect Princess
Jules looked around at the potted plants and flowering vines. A floral scent lingered in the air. Paradise? Perhaps.
“Thank you, sir.” Ortiz sounded grateful. “I am in charge of the palace and at your service. Whatever you need, I’ll see that you have it.”
Jules glanced at Brandt, whose grin resembled the Cheshire cat’s. She would have to make sure he didn’t take advantage of the generous offer of hospitality.
“The palace grounds are lovely, Ortiz,” she said. “Very inviting with so many colorful flowers and plants.”
“I am happy you like it, ma’am.” His smile took years off his tanned, lined face. “Please allow me to show you and your party inside.”
Klaus nodded. Her bodyguard, in his fifties with a crew cut and a gun hidden under his tailored suit jacket, had protected her for as long as she could remember.
“Lead the way, Ortiz,” she said.
As they walked from the helipad to the front door, Ortiz gave her a brief history lesson about the palace. She had no idea the royal family had ruled the island for so long. No doubt the continuous line of succession had impressed her father who would want to ensure a long reign for his grandchildren and the heirs that followed.
“Prince Enrique has done so much for the island,” Ortiz said. “A finer successor to King Dario cannot be found, ma’am.”
If only Jules knew whether the compliments were truthful or propaganda. She knew little about her future husband besides his name. “I’m looking forward to meeting Prince Enrique.”
Ortiz beamed. “He said the same thing about you at lunch-time, ma’am.”
A third good sign? Jules hoped so.
When they reached the palace entry, two arched wooden doors parted as if by magic. Once the heavy doors were fully open, she saw two uniformed attendants standing behind and holding them.
Jules stared at the entrance with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. If all went well—and she hoped it did—this palace would be her new home. She would live with her husband and raise her children here. She fought the urge to cross her fingers.
With a deep breath, she stepped inside. The others followed.
A thirty-foot ceiling gave the large marble tiled foyer an open and airy feel. Stunning paintings, a mix of modern and classical works, hung on the walls. A marble statue of a woman sitting in the middle captured Jules’s attention. “What an amazing sculpture.”
“That is Eos, one of the Greek’s second generation Titan gods,” Ortiz explained. “We are more partial to the Latin name, Aurora. Whichever name you prefer, she’ll always be the Goddess of the Dawn.”
“Beautiful,” Brandt agreed. “Eos had a strong desire for handsome young men. If she looked anything like this statue, I’m sure she had no trouble finding willing lovers.”
“Close the front doors,” a male voice shouted. “Now.”
The attendants pushed the heavy doors. Grunts sounded. Muscles strained.
“Hurry,” the voice urged.
The people behind Jules rushed farther into the foyer so the doors could be shut. The momentum pushed her forward.
A shirtless man wearing shorts ran toward the doors. Something black darted across the floor.
Yvette screamed. “A rat, Your Highnesses.”
“There are no rats in the palace,” Ortiz shouted.
The ball of black fur darted between Jules’s legs. Startled, she stumbled face-first.
“Catch her,” Klaus yelled.
Too late. The marble floor seemed to rise up to meet Jules though she was the one falling.
She stopped abruptly. Not against the floor.
Strong arms embraced Jules. Her face pressed against a hard, bare chest. Her cheek rested against warm skin. Dark hair tickled her nose. The sound of a heartbeat filled her ears. He smelled so good. No fancy colognes. Only soap and water and salty ocean air.
She wanted another sniff.
Ortiz shrieked. “Your Highnesses. Are either of you hurt?”
Highnesses? The man must be a prince. Her father had only spoken of the crown prince. No other brothers had been mentioned. Oh, if this were Enrique…
CHAPTER TWO
“JULES?” BRANDT sounded concerned.
“I’m fine,” Jules said quickly, more interested in the man—the prince—who saved her from hitting her face on the floor and still held her with his strong arms. Such wide shoulders, too.
