She peered inside and gasped. This wasn’t a ballroom. This was a clothing store.
Mannequins, decked out in elaborate outfits with matching accessories, fought for space on the parquet floor between racks of clothing and shoes. Stylishly dressed women bustled about in short skirts and high heels, carrying purses, lingerie and shoes. A mix of perfumes lingered in the air.
The room looked to be a pumped up, steroid-version of What Not to Wear. This was so not the kind of shopping Izzy had in mind. She struggled to breathe.
Some women might tingle with excitement at the thought of being let loose among all these clothes and shoes, but the sight filled Izzy with dread. Fashion didn’t interest her in the slightest. She was into comfort, not style. Worse, these women had gone to all this trouble for her. Niko and Jovan, too.
Near a three-paneled mirror, she noticed a man who looked out of place among all the feminine finery.
Not just a man. Niko.
He’d showered, shaved and changed suits. He looked like he had at the garage—hot. She wasn’t the only one who thought so. A few of the other women kept stealing glances.
Niko didn’t seem to notice. He was engaged in a conversation with a gorgeous blonde supermodel. Feeling more out of place than before, Izzy crossed her arms over her stomach.
Dee cleared his throat.
Conversations stopped. Women froze in place. Heads bowed. Eyes lowered.
“What’s happening?” she whispered and moved closer to Dee.
“Do not worry.” He smiled down at her. “Everything is fine, Izzy.”
Niko stared intently at her, making her question the fine part. “What are you—”
“Izzy’s bag with her clothing disappeared from her room,” Dee said, rather bravely Izzy thought considering the fierce expression on Niko’s face. “I offered her my assistance.”
“The women needed her sizes so they borrowed her bag, Father.”
Realization hit Izzy between the eyes. She inhaled sharply. “Dee as in Dmitar.”
“Yes, my dear,” Dee said.
“Oh, no.” Her cheeks burned. She pulled the robe tighter as if she could somehow disappear into its folds. “You’re the king, the one who emailed me about the box, and I’m an idiot.”
“Father—”
King Dmitar held up his hand the way Niko had done with Jovan.
Niko remained silent. Izzy had forgotten about that trick, but made a note to remember it for later.
“You’re not an idiot, Izzy,” King Dmitar said kindly. “You are delightful. I see the best of your parents in you.”
Emotion tightened her throat. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“As for my son …” King Dmitar turned his attention to Niko. “Izzy does not know our ways. She should not be left on her own and forced to figure out where her clothing disappeared to.”
Niko bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”
King Dmitar turned his attention back to her. “And a suggestion, Izzy.”
“Yes, Dee.” She cringed at her lapse. “I mean, Your Majesty.”
“Queen Beatrice does not like the color pink. You may wish to keep that in mind while shopping.”
“Thanks for the tip, sir.” Izzy smiled, trying to make the best of the situation. “I’m not much into pink myself.”
“Excellent.” The king eyed the racks of dresses. “The queen does like the color purple. As do I.”
“I’ll remember that, sir. Thank you.”
He focused on each person in the room until his gaze came to rest on the stunning blonde who had been talking with Niko. The king pressed his lips together for a moment. “I see you are in good hands. I will leave you to your shopping.”
With that, the king departed.
As soon as the doors closed, the women went back to carrying accessories to the mannequins. The blonde, who had been speaking with Niko, supervised them.
Izzy blew out a puff of air. “I can’t believe that was your father.”
Niko stood next to her with an irritated look in his eyes. “Who did you think he was?”
“The castle manager.”
The irritation vanished. Niko laughed. “I suppose that is one of his job responsibilities.”
“You’re not helping.”
Niko raised a brow. “I didn’t think you needed anyone’s help.”
Izzy made a face at him.
“You may have trouble finding an outfit to go with that expression,” he teased.
“I’m sure I can find an outfit to match every expression as well as one to wear each hour of the day. I thought I was going shopping at a store or a mall.” She motioned to all the clothing. “It’s a bit … much, don’t you think?”
“Not for a princess,” Niko said. “There will be dinners, outings, appearances at the High Court.”
“I won’t be here that long.”
“Long enough.”
Izzy tried to take it all in. Tried and failed. “I think I’m beginning to understand what Cinderella might have gone through.”
“Except in your case the shoe already fits.”
“But we want to get it off as soon as possible.”
“That is the plan.”
He sounded excited. Izzy set her chin. “You know, dude, I want the annulment just as badly as you do.”
Before he could reply, the supermodel hurried over, walking on high heels as if she were wearing tennis shoes. She probably taught Pilates, cooked like a gourmet chef and rescued orphans from third-world countries in her spare time. The woman smiled, showing off two rows of perfectly spaced white teeth. The boys at the garage would be comatose in her presence. “You must be Princess Isabel.”
“Isabel,” Niko said. “This is Her Royal Highness Princess Julianna Von Schneckel of Aliestle.”
Julianna. Niko’s girlfriend and future wife. She was also a princess. No wonder he couldn’t wait to annul the marriage and marry a woman who exuded so much confidence and beauty even a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model would be intimidated.
Izzy was out of her element in every possible way. She forced
