Page 9 of Not-So-Perfect Princess
Awareness seeped through her.
“My apologies.” His deep, rich voice and Spanish accent sent her racing pulse into a mad sprint. “The kitten darted out of the room before I could grab him.”
Ortiz raised his chin. “As I said, there are no rats in the palace, Princess.”
The prince inhaled sharply. She found herself being set upon her feet. But he kept hold of her, even after she was standing.
“Stable?” he asked.
She nodded, forcing herself not to stare at his muscular chest and ripped abs.
He let go of her.
A chill shivered through Jules. She wasn’t used to being in such close contact with anyone, but she missed having his nicely muscled arms around her.
She studied him, eager for a better look.
Over six feet tall with an athletic build, he looked more pirate than prince with shoulder-length dark brown hair, an earring in his left ear, khaki shorts and bare feet.
His strong jawline, high cheekbones and straight nose looked almost chiseled and made her think of the Eos sculpture. But his full lips and thick eyelashes softened the harsher features. The result—a gorgeous face she would be happy to stare at for hours. Days. Years.
Jules’s heart thudded. “Thank you.”
Warm brown eyes met hers. Gold specks flickered like flames around his irises. “You’re welcome.”
Everyone else faded into the background. Time seemed to stop. Something unfamiliar unfurled deep inside her.
He swooped up a black ball of fur with one hand. The look of tenderness in his dark eyes as he checked the kitten melted her heart. She would love for a man—this man—to look at her that way.
The kitten meowed. As he rubbed it, he returned his attention to her. “You’re Princess Julianna from Aliestle.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” Jules had never believed in love at first sight until now. She hoped their children looked exactly like him. A smile spread across her lips and reached all the way to her heart. Her father had gotten this right. She would realize her dream of marrying for love. A warm glow flowed through her. “You must be Enrique.”
“No.” His jaw thrust forward. “I am Alejandro.”
Alejandro held on to the kitten as confusion clouded Juliana’s pretty face. He was a little confused by his own reaction to this so-called ice princess. She had practically melted against him, and he’d yet to cool down from the contact. The woman was gorgeous, with a killer body underneath her coral-colored suit, long blond hair and big blue eyes a man could drown in.
She smelled sweet, like a bouquet of wildflowers. He wondered if her glossed lips tasted…
Not sweet.
He forced his gaze off her mouth. Julianna’s marriage to Enrique and the children she conceived would remove Alejandro from the line of succession. She was his ticket out of his obligation to the monarchy. He couldn’t think of her as anything other than his future sister-in-law.
That shouldn’t be difficult since she wasn’t his type.
Beautiful, yes, if you liked the kind of woman who knew how to apply makeup perfectly and could give any supermodel a run for her money. But he wanted a woman who didn’t care about the trappings of wealth and royalty. A woman who was down-to-earth and didn’t mind the spray of salt water in her face.
“Alejandro,” Julianna repeated as if he didn’t know his own name.
He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had mistaken him for Enrique. Polar opposites didn’t begin to describe their differences. But the fact Julianna didn’t know what her future husband looked like surprised Alejandro more. Arranged marriages were still a part of royal life in some countries, but agreeing to marry someone without seeing their photograph struck him as odd. “Yes.”
She stiffened. The warmth in her eyes disappeared. The expression on her face turned downright chilly. Ice princess?
He saw now why she’d been called that. The change in her demeanor startled him, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Alejandro had dated enough spoiled and pampered royals and wealthy girls to last a lifetime. This one, with a rich-as-Midas father, would most likely rank up there with the worst. He almost pitied Enrique. Emphasis on almost.
She drew her finely arched brows together, looking haughty not curious. “That makes you…?”
