start eating right away. For just a moment, she watched the prince of Llandaron as he picked up his gourmet cheeseburger and went for it like any red-blooded American male. But in this case looks were incredibly deceiving. The guy with ketchup on his lip wasn’t red-blooded at all, he was blue-blooded. And her attraction to him had to be controlled. She didn’t trust this royal playboy as far as she could throw him, and she sure didn’t trust her feelings and actions when she was around him.
“Anything wrong, Francesca?”
Her gaze snapped up. “Pardon me?”
“You’re not eating, and you look as though you have something to say.”
Something to say, something to say… She opted for small talk. “Have you ever been to America, Your Highness?”
“Many times. I own several companies there.”
“You do?” she asked, surprised.
“I do work, Francesca.” He chuckled. “Not at being a royal, but being a citizen of the world. My companies manufacture air- and water-purifying systems for office buildings and hotels. I’ve wanted to develop a way to keep the world and the people in it healthy ever since I could remember. Strange goal for a child, perhaps, but nothing deterred me.” He tilted his head. “I imagine your need to care for animals started when you were very young, as well.”
Fran took a sip of her beer and nodded. “When I first saw a baby squirrel with its leg caught in a trap, I was hooked. I had cages set up in my backyard.” She nibbled on a French fry. “It’s crazy, but after I helped that squirrel, more and more animals found their way into my yard.”
“The word spread throughout the animal kingdom.”
She nodded. “I truly believe they sought me out, that they knew I was committed to helping them.”
“Of course they did.” Max said the words with such conviction, Fran paused. Usually when she said something “out there,” people laughed and thought she was kidding or, worse, a bit nuts. Dennis always made jokes about her claims that she could actually sense what an animal was feeling at times.
Max took a pull on his beer. “So you went to veterinary school, and then…”
“Then Dennis and I opened our own practice.”
“Dennis?”
“My…well, he’s a very good friend, a good man, really.” She sounded like an imbecile. And why wasn’t she telling him that Dennis was practically her fiancé? “Dennis is…well, he’s practical and efficient, and he’s great with animals.”
“He sounds boring.”
She shook her head. “He’s not boring. He’s…”
“I know,” he said, grinning. “Practical and efficient.”
She shot him a sidelong glance. “Men don’t have to be rich and handsome and royal to be attractive to a woman, Your Highness.”
Those killer blue eyes fairly lapped her up. “You think I’m handsome?”
More than anything in the world she wanted to look away, but his gaze held hers. She wanted to grab her burger and stuff it into her reckless mouth, but her appetite was gone—her appetite for food, anyway. She needed to get away from him, away from this carnal, marvelous magic that surrounded him.
“What I think…is that I’m full.” She stood up and dropped her napkin on the table. “I’m really tired. It was a long flight, a long day, and I’m not looking to make this a long night, so…” She stopped talking, realizing how she sounded.
Max grinned. “I’ll walk you back.”
“I think I can find the way.” She looked out the window. Had to be after seven. “The fog’s cleared up.”
But the man was a prince, a gentleman, and he walked her back, anyway. Not to her bedroom door, thank goodness, because for the first time since the “smooth talker,” Fran felt what could be categorized as a surge of wildness. And she wasn’t altogether sure if she could stop herself from grabbing Max by the shirtfront and pulling him inside.
“Are you going to marry her?”
Maxim had just said good-night to Francesca in the very same hall where their evening had begun. He was keyed-up, craving something he shouldn’t even be contemplating, and in no mood for a go-round with his father. But he couldn’t very well pass the man’s door without speaking, so he stood in the library doorway. “Am I going to marry whom?”
“The duchess of Claymore.”
“No.” One night with the woman had been more than enough.
The king sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Do I have to remind you of our agreement?”
A muscle flicked in Maxim’s jaw. “No.”
“Eleven months ago we sat here in this very library and talked about the importance of having both my sons married. I gave you a year to find yourself a bride, and I distinctly recall you nodding your head.” The king took off his reading glasses and regarded his son seriously. “You have one month left, Maxim. If you don’t find a suitable woman to marry in that time, I swear I will choose for you.”
“I have not met anyone I would even consider marrying, Father,” he said with deadly calm. “I suggest we drop this before we both lose our tempers.”
“I will not drop this. Your brother has been married for five years now and has yet to produce an heir. This is duty, Maxim, and you know it. What you owe to your country. If you love this land, you will do what needs to be done.”
Pure unadulterated anger rippled through Maxim as he stared at the man who made him see red—the man he loved and respected above all others, the man who had had the good fortune to fall in love with the woman who was to be his queen. How could such a man expect his child to have anything less?
Five years ago, when his brother, Alex, had married, Maxim had thought that he would be free of honor and duty and marriage to a woman he cared nothing for. But when three years passed with no heir for Alex and his wife, Maxim knew what was in store for him. Llandaron was a small country, always in danger of getting sucked up by its larger and more powerful neighbors. Llandaron needed autonomy. Their citizens relied on a good and caring government. They relied on the stability of the royal family.
But dammit, he would not marry a woman he didn’t love. And considering the fact that he’d never gotten close to such an emotion in all his thirty-five years, he didn’t expect to find it anytime soon.
The king shook his head and sighed. “I don’t understand you. There are hundreds of exquisite women in the kingdom to choose from.”
The words of a pretty American veterinarian rang loudly in his ears. We have one chance at this life. And giving others control over it is a waste. She’d insisted people had choices. Maxim raked a hand through his hair. Regular folk had choices, but did a prince? Did a man who loved his country? Or did he sacrifice his personal needs for the needs of his country?
“Make no mistake about it, Maxim,” the king said firmly. “Three
