at the finest Swiss boarding schools: she kept her mouth shut. This was the new king of Altaria—a good-looking American who had a body that would make any woman’s temperature shoot up ten degrees and who clearly had zero knowledge about royal protocol. She wondered how many of his Altarian ancestors would be spinning in their graves.
Heaven help Altaria.
Heaven help her.
“I’m not exactly sure what your role is,” he said.
“I’m to fill you in on royal protocol and also to learn as much about your preferences as possible so that the palace is well prepared for your arrival, sir.”
He raked his hand through his hair. “Translate royal protocol.”
“Traditional royal etiquette, sir. It’s my job to inform you about how the people of Altaria will greet you and how you will be expected to respond.”
He sighed again and rubbed his hand over his face. “Etiquette lessons. I’ll have to fit them in sometime after an airport expansion plan and a budget review. How about if you take a couple of days to take care of your jet lag and we can get together then?”
“I’m quite able to perform my duties immediately, sir.”
“Tell you what, get settled and we’ll talk tomorrow or the next day.”
Erin felt as if she was getting the brush-off. That wouldn’t do. Her father, the foreign minister of Altaria, had assigned her this job—in spite of her unfortunate nervous response that had been the bane of her existence as long as she could remember. She couldn’t fail her father. This was her opportunity to forge a closer relationship with him. “I can be useful to you, sir. My father is Altaria’s foreign minister, so I’m quite familiar with the political climate.”
Daniel Connelly gave her a considering glance. “Okay. I’ll call you after I get through the most critical matters. Welcome to the Windy City.” At her puzzled look, he clarified, “Welcome to Chicago.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”
His insistent hospitality disconcerted her. “Quite sure, sir. Thank you.”
He nodded and picked up a phone. “Then I’ll tell security to get you a cab.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, sir. I can do that.”
“I’m sure you can, but my protocol won’t allow me to send a young lady visitor out into the streets of Chicago without transportation to her destination.”
A gentleman? A secret warmth slid through her. She’d been surrounded by so many men more concerned with their own self-importance that she almost didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you, sir,” she murmured as he gave instructions to the security attendant.
Daniel led her to the door and opened it for her. “Why does your accent sound British?” he asked.
“Although I attended Swiss boarding schools, the headmistresses were British.”
“Your bearing is similar to my mother’s,” he said.
“I take that as high praise, sir,” she said. “I attended the same boarding school she did years earlier. Princess Emma has always been much beloved and admired by the people of Altaria.”
“Even though she gave up her title to marry a rough American upstart?” he asked with a sly, yet appealing grin.
“She may have officially given up her title as princess, sir, but she is always a princess in the hearts of Altarians.”
He chuckled. “You’re very good. Are you sure you’re not a public relations specialist?”
“Knowledge of public relations is required for my position, sir. As I told you, however, part of my job is to learn what pleases you so you will feel at home in Altaria.”
“I’m not hard to please. A Bulls game and a Chicago hot dog, and I’m happy.”
Erin blinked, trying to imagine the palace chef preparing a Chicago hot dog. Whatever it was. “I’ll make note of it, sir.”
“I’m sure you will. Good night.”
Daniel winced as he listened to his voice mail messages two days later. Three of them were from Erin Lawrence. He remembered what a prim but curvy little package she’d been. She was so proper, his contrary mind couldn’t resist visualizing her stripped of her perfect manners and clothes. Daniel had also noticed, however, that while Miss Lawrence was a babe, she also gave the impression of innocence, forbidden fruit.
He hadn’t deliberately pushed her aside, but his transition from Vice President of Marketing at Connelly Corporation to King of Altaria had him swamped. To ensure continuity of succession, the successor to a monarch was normally required to be present immediately, so it seemed odd that the foreign minister had told Daniel they weren’t quite ready for him yet. Daniel decided to bide his time with his questions. He had plenty to do with the loose ends he had to tie up in Chicago and the preparations he needed to make for Altaria.
Glancing at his packed-to-the-brim schedule on his electronic organizer, he saw that dinner was clear and punched out the telephone number for Erin’s hotel. “Daniel Connelly here,” he said when she answered the phone.
“Thank you for calling, Your Majesty,” she said in a proper, but well-modulated tone. Daniel wondered what it would take to ruffle her perfect poise. He wondered what kind of underwear she wore, but pushed the thought aside.
“Sorry it took so long. I’ve been swamped, and today’s not much better. Can you join me for dinner? I’ll order pizza and we can meet at my place.”
A long paused followed.
“Problem?”
“No, sir,” she said, her voice clearly reluctant.
“I hear ‘problem’ in your voice, Miss Lawrence,” he said, feeling a twitch of impatience.
“What is it?”
“I’m just trying to determine the propriety of my giving you a protocol lesson in your private quarters, sir,” she replied.
“Didn’t you tell me earlier that you wanted privacy?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, but—”
“Do you need a chaperone or something?”
“Absolutely not, sir,” she said with a trace of defiance in her voice. “I’ll meet you for dinner. What time?”
“Make it late,” he said. “Seven-thirty.”
“Very good sir. I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”
Daniel hung up the phone and groaned aloud just as the door to his office pushed open to reveal his brother, Brett.
“How’s it going, YM?” Brett asked and cracked a half-grin. “The king
