Not-So-Perfect Princess: Not-So-Perfect Princess. Melissa McClone

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Not-So-Perfect Princess: Not-So-Perfect Princess - Melissa  McClone

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another villa, donate it to charity or give it away on the streets,” Enrique advised. “You’ve earned this, Alejandro. Don’t let pride get in the way again.”

      He wasn’t about to go there. “All I want is to be left alone.”

      “As soon as Julianna and I have children, you will no longer be needed around here. If you do your part to ensure the wedding occurs, Father has promised to let you live your own life.”

      Finally. “Did you ask for this or did Father offer?”

      “It was a combination, but be assured of Father keeping his word.”

      “When am I to move back?”

      “After lunch.”

      Alejandro cursed again. He had a boatyard to run, investment properties to oversee and the Med Cup to prepare for. Not to mention the kitten who expected to be fed. “I have a life. Responsibilities.”

      “You have responsibilities here. Ones you ignore while you play with your boats,” Enrique chided.

      Seething, Alejandro tried to keep his tone even. “I’m not playing. I’m working. If you’d see the upcoming Med Cup race as an opportunity to promote—”

      “If you want to build the island’s reputation, then support this royal wedding. It’ll do much more for the economy than your expensive ideas to improve the island’s nightlife, build flashy resorts and attract the sailing crowd with a little regatta.”

      “The Med Cup is a big deal. It’ll—”

      “Whatever.” Enrique brushed Alejandro aside as if he were a bothersome gnat. Like father, like son. “Do what you must to be here after lunch or Father will send you away on a diplomatic mission.”

      The words were like a punch to Alejandro’s solar plexus. Not unexpected given the way his father and brother operated sometimes. The threat would be carried out, too. That meant Alejandro had to do as told to secure his future. His freedom.

      “I’ll be back before your princess arrives.”

      But he would be doing a few things his way.

      Once the black sheep, always the black sheep.

      And let’s face it, Alejandro didn’t mind the title at all.

      A helicopter whisked Jules over the clear, blue Mediterranean Sea. The luxurious cabin with large, leather seats comfortably fit the four of them: her, Brandt, Yvette her maid and Klaus their bodyguard. But even with soundproofing, each wore headsets to communicate and protect their ears from the noise of the rotors.

       Almost there.

      A combination of excitement and nerves made Jules want to tap her toes and twist the ends of her hair with her finger. She kept her hands clasped on her lap instead. She wanted to make her family and country proud. Her mother, God rest her soul, too. Presenting the image of a princess completely in control was important, even if doing so wasn’t always easy.

      She glanced out the window. Below, on the water, a Sun Fast 3200 with a colorful spinnaker caught her eye. She pressed her forehead against the window to get a better look at the sailboat.

       Gorgeous.

      The crew sat on the rail, their legs dangling over the side. The hull planed across the waves.

      Longing made it difficult to breath.

      What she wouldn’t give to be on that boat sailing away from the island instead of flying toward the stranger who would be her husband and the father of her children … But she shouldn’t wish that. Jules had a responsibility, a duty, the same that had been thrust upon her mother so many years ago. Marrying Prince Enrique had to be better than being stuck in patriarchal Aliestle for the rest of her life. At least, she hoped so. If not …

      Jules grimaced.

      “You okay?” Brandt’s voice asked through her headset.

      She shrugged. “I think I’m cursed. When my godparents offered gifts at my christening, one of them must have cursed me to a life of duty with no reward. A loveless arranged marriage.”

      And an unfulfilled yearning for adventure and freedom.

      “Look out the window,” Brandt said. “You’re not cursed, Jules. You’re going to be living on a vacation paradise.”

      Crescents of postcard-worthy white sand beaches came into view. Palm trees seemed to stand at attention, except for the few arching toward the ground. The beach gave way to a town. Pastel-colored, tiled roofed buildings and narrow streets dotted the hillsides above the village center.

      She glimpsed rows of sailboats moored at a marina. The masts, tall and shiny, rocked starboard and port like metronomes. Her mouth went dry.

      Perhaps cursed was the wrong word. All these sailboats had to be a good sign, right? “Maybe life will be different here.”

      “It will.” Brandt smiled, the same charming smile she’d seen on a cover of a tabloid at the airport in Spain. “Your fiancé will be unable to resist your beauty and intelligence. He’ll fall head over heels in love with you and allow you to do whatever you wish. Including sailing on the ocean.”

      She wiggled her toes in anticipation. “I hope that’s true.”

      “Believe,” he encouraged. “That’s what you always tell me.”

      Yes, she did. But this situation was different. Jules knew nothing about Prince Enrique. She’d been so busy preparing for her departure she hadn’t had time to look him up on the internet. Not that she had a choice in marrying him even if he turned out to be an ogre.

      For all she knew he was old with one foot in the grave. Okay, now she was overreacting. Her father had always matched her with younger men because he wanted grandchildren. This match shouldn’t be any different.

      Jules hoped Enrique was charming, handsome and would sweep her off her feet. She wanted to find him attractive and be able to love him. She also wanted his heart to be free and open to loving her in return.

      Her concern ratcheted. Prince Richard and Prince Niko had been in love with other women. If Enrique’s affections were attached to a girlfriend or mistress that wouldn’t bode well for their match reaching the altar or, if it did, love developing between them.

      Jules shifted in her seat. “I do hope this island has up-to-date ideas about women.”

      “It has to be more contemporary. Aliestle has been asleep since the Middle Ages.” Brandt cupped one side of his headset with his hand. “Listen, I hear Father snoring now. The tyrant could wake the dead.”

      A smile tugged at the corners of Jules’s mouth. “Too bad we can’t wake him.”

      “Along with the entire Council of Elders.”

      Nodding, she stared at her brother who was more known as a playboy crown prince than a burgeoning politician and ruler. “When you’re king, you’ll change the way things are done.”

      Brandt

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