you, Luka, but I will show Princess Isabel the way,” Niko said before Izzy could answer.
Luka bowed. “Enjoy your flight, ma’am, sir.”
“I thought you wanted to keep my identity a secret to avoid publicity,” she whispered to Niko as she moved away from Luka.
“Only until after we appear before the High Court,” he explained quietly.
As his male scent surrounded her, heat rushed through her veins. She hoped the High Court would be their first stop after they landed.
“Do not worry,” he continued. “The crew is part of the Vernonian Air Force. They can be trusted with the information. As can the palace staff.”
That seemed like a lot of people in on the secret, but he was the prince. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
Izzy made her way down the aisle, holding her backpack in front of her. The interior, a mix of warm beiges, browns and blues, created a welcoming environment. Couches and tables filled the first section of the cabin.
“This is the lounge area,” Niko explained. “Feel free to come up here if you want to stretch your legs.”
“I doubt I’ll unfasten my seat belt during the flight.”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “That may get uncomfortable if you have to use the facilities.”
Her cheeks warmed. She hadn’t considered that.
The second section of the cabin contained rows of seats. The wide leather seats looked comfortable and luxurious, not narrow and cramped and squished together as her high school classmates had described after their graduation trip to the Caribbean. Izzy hadn’t been able to afford the trip, so had stayed home and worked at Rowdy’s garage.
Times sure had changed. Mechanic Izzy Poussard was now Princess Isabel, the wife of the crown prince of Vernonia. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of it.
“This is where we sit for takeoff and landing, or, if you choose,” Niko said, “the entire flight.”
Izzy passed the row where Jovan sat. A few other seats were taken by people she hadn’t seen before. She continued to the last row of empty seats before a divider.
Before she could sit, a female flight attendant rushed from the rear of the plane. The young woman wore a navy jacket and skirt. Her blond hair was neatly braided into a bun. “Good evening. Allow me to hold your backpack for you, Your Royal Highness.”
Before Izzy could say a word, the backpack strap was lifted out of her hand. Every one of her muscles tensed, bunching into tight balls. She wasn’t used to being catered to. It was disconcerting because she didn’t feel like royalty.
She sat in the window seat and buckled her seat belt.
The flight attendant handed the backpack to Izzy. “Would you care for something to drink or eat, ma’am?”
“No, thanks.” Izzy didn’t want to upset her stomach any more than it already was. Her nerves were getting the best of her. Over the flight, over Vernonia, over Niko. Maybe if she distracted herself.
She pressed a button that turned on the overhead light. She twisted a knob that regulated the airflow nozzle.
Niko sat next to her. “Are you certain you do not want anything?”
Izzy wanted this to be over with. “No, thanks, Your Highness.”
“Call me Niko.”
“I’m not sure I should get in the habit of calling you by your first name. As soon as our marriage is annulled I doubt you’d want to be on such familiar terms with a commoner.”
“You are not a commoner,” he said. “You are a princess by birth. Royal Sachestian blood flows through your veins.”
“That may be true, but I was raised American. Royalty is something other countries have.”
“Americans have unofficial royalty. The Kennedys, the Rockefellers, the Hiltons.”
“I suppose, but a princess isn’t something I aspired to be beyond the age of four or five. Wearing a tiara has never been a dream of mine.”
“You may feel like an American, but you are a Vernonian.” He spoke as if her being a Vernonian was the most important thing she could be. No one had ever spoken to her that way. Not even Uncle Frank. “You will be amazed by the history of your family.”
Intrigued, she leaned toward him. “I have a family history?”
“Your lineage goes back centuries. Your father’s family played an integral role in the formation of our country, when Sachestia in the north merged with the south to form what we now call Vernonia.” He fastened his seat belt. “If you have questions about anything, please ask.”
“I—” The lights in the cabin flickered. She clutched the seat armrests until her knuckles turned white. “What’s that?”
“The APU, auxiliary power unit, coming on,” he explained. “It powers the lights and air system while we are in flight.”
“Oh, yeah. I should have remembered that.”
The plane moved backward.
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.
“Do not worry.” Niko covered her hand with his large one. His skin was warm, but not soft. Scars and calluses covered his hand and fingers. “The plane is being moved so the pilot can taxi to the runway.”
Forget about the plane. His touch disturbed her more than it comforted. She tried to slip her hand from beneath his, but couldn’t. “I’m sorry if I’ve acted like a wimp, but I’m okay now.”
“You’ve handled everything remarkably well, Isabel. You should be proud of yourself.”
He wouldn’t let Izzy remove her hand from his, but his words made her sit taller. She wanted to be brave for him, but mostly herself. That was what Uncle Frank would have wanted her to be.
The engines roared to life. She sucked in a breath.
Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about.
The words became a mantra.
The plane taxied to the runway. Out the window, she saw the airport lights shining in the darkness. Pretty, but she would rather be at home watching a television show than sitting on a luxurious private jet holding hands with a handsome prince.
Too late to back out now.
Izzy pressed her feet against the floor of the plane.
“We will be in the air shortly,” Niko said.
All she could do was nod.
The jet lurched to a stop. The engines whined, the sound growing louder. She was too nervous to appreciate
