Trudy, you believed in happily-ever-afters. Am I crazy to think this is my chance to finally have one of my own? Would you have gotten on the plane, Trudy, if Jonathan had asked you to?
“Are you okay, Reanna?”
The real concern in his eyes gave Reanna the answer she was looking for. “Yes, sorry, I’m fine now. I’ve just never flown before.”
One of Xander’s eyebrows rose in question. “But you have a passport. Albert told me he retrieved it from where you said it would be.”
Reanna gave him a wry smile. “There is a difference between going somewhere and hoping to. Insects have been flying for about 300 million years, so why not me, right?”
Xander chuckled. “Come, anticipating taking off will make you more nervous than actually leaving the ground.”
She took his hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’m not nervous.”
His walked with her up the steps and asked, “Why not?”
She looked into his amazing blue eyes and simply said, “Because I’m with you.”
He tripped then righted himself, and for a moment she thought her comment had upset him. Whatever he might have said was cut off by the flight staff greeting them. The next few minutes were a whirlwind of service. Champagne. Finger sandwiches. Chocolates. Every time she or Xander moved, someone flew to their side in anticipation of fulfilling a need they might express. Then, just as quickly, they would disappear again, leaving Reanna with the impression she was alone with Xander in the plane’s cabin.
Seated beside him, Reanna double-checked her seatbelt then smiled shyly at Xander. “No going back now.”
He didn’t smile in return. He still looked like he wanted to say something to her, but instead he laid his hand over hers on her armrest and nodded.
Reanna’s stomach did a funny flip. She looked out the window as they took off and gripped the arms of the seat tightly.
Xander’s cell phone rang, and he began to speak quickly in Italian. Reanna wished she hadn’t opted out of foreign language courses whenever she’d been given the chance to. She’d never considered communicating with people from other countries very important since she avoided talking to most people in her own.
Once the plane was at a steady height, one of the attendants came by and asked Reanna if she would like to see the rest of the plane. Since Xander was still occupied with his call, Reanna readily agreed. She followed the woman to a door near the back of the plane. The room was filled with daisies and racks of dresses and outfits — more clothing than Reanna could imagine wearing in a lifetime. She looked at the woman and pointed at herself. Is this for me? The woman smiled and nodded.
Gingerly, Reanna studied the contents of the racks. They all looked about her size. Formal gowns. Casual dresses. Slacks. Blouses of every color. Nearby, there were piles of shoeboxes from a variety of designers. All her size.
A delicately detailed gold box was open to display an assortment of toiletries. Beside it was an equally lovely silk bag arranged so the makeup inside was visible. When Xander had said there was nothing they couldn’t pick up on the way, he’d been serious. But there was so much, and it was all so perfect it felt as if he’d been planning it for longer than a day.
That’s silly.
And borderline paranoid.
Of course he can gather resources quickly. He’s a prince.
There was a small, rectangular jewelry box from Tiffany’s. Reanna opened it. The glasses she had forgotten at her home were tucked inside with a beautiful chain. There was nothing Xander hadn’t thought of. His attention to detail was a little overwhelming. As were the number of outfits he’d purchased for her. Both implied a longer stay than she’d imagined.
Her trepidation was countered with a level of giddy disbelief that anything like this could happen to her. This was a tangible display of his feelings for her — whatever they were. This type of pampering was likely how he treated anyone he dated. A prince wouldn’t take a woman out for pizza and then a stroll through the mall. For him, this was probably nothing. Relax.
The woman beside her said, “There is time to try on every outfit if you’d like before you choose one for arrival.”
Reanna looked down at her jeans and loose-fitting T-shirt and asked the woman why she thought a clothing change would be necessary. Reanna had asked if she should change into a dress for the trip, but Xander had said it wouldn’t matter. Now she could see why.
“This is a little overwhelming,” Reanna said, more to herself than to the other woman. “My name is Reanna. What’s yours?”
Looking surprised by the informality of the request, the attendant said, “Charlene.”
“Where would you start, Charlene?”
Charlene looked uncomfortable with the question and didn’t answer at first.
Reanna implored, “I know nothing about Rubare Collina. I really could use your advice. Look at me, I don’t normally wear anything like this.”
Charlene clasped her hands in front of her and said, “Most of these outfits are formal attire. Most on the left side of the rack would be suitable for your arrival day. If it would please you, I could style your hair in an updo.”
Reanna caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She’d been so excited about the trip, she hadn’t even thrown her hair into her normal ponytail. Although she had run a taming brush through it that morning, the wind and humidity at the airport had given her long curls a wild frizz. “It would please me.” Even as she said the words, Reanna chuckled at her attempt to sound formal. “Yes. Thank you. I appreciate any help you can give me.”
“I am very good at subtly shaping eyebrows,” the woman said, demurely keeping her eyes down.
Reanna stepped closer the mirror. She studied her eyebrows then the neat, expertly shaped lines of Charlene’s. “I usually do my own.”
Charlene didn’t say anything.
Reanna ran a finger over one of her eyebrows. She didn’t trust others when it came to something as potentially painful as hair removal. “I don’t do wax.”
“I could thread them.”
Reanna blurted out, “And we stop at the eyebrows.”
“As you wish,” Charlene said.
Reanna turned back toward Charlene and said, “Thank you. You have no idea how grateful I am for your help. I’m a nervous wreck. I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“It’s my honor,” Charlene said simply and met her eyes.
Reanna smiled at her and felt a hundred times better when the woman smiled back.
Careful to speak in Italian, Xander continued his conversation with Simon. “I know what my father wants, but I will do this my way.”
“Chosen queens have always been kept in the women’s wing of the Royal Castle.”
“Tell my father this is the only way I will honor this archaic tradition.”
“Your Highness, do not push your father or the council too far on this. When it comes to title and crown, not even the love of a king can save a prince from the wrath of our laws.”
“She stays, undisturbed, with me at our summer home, or I turn my plane around now and find another place to get to know her. I will not have her choose me out of fear. Is that understood?”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Your Highness.”
“Not one part of this is a game to me, Simon.”
“Are you prepared for the consequences if she does not choose you?”
“That will not happen. Not if you give me time alone with her.”
“As you wish, Your Highness. Your father will not be happy, but I will do my best to convince him to grant you this request.”
“I am perfectly capable of telling him myself, Simon.”
