who seems to have nothing in common with the Princess but their uncannily similar looks. She hates pretending to be someone she’s not even more than she hates high heels and royal protocol. But she’s been made an offer she can’t refuse and finds herself pretending to be Amelie.
I had a ball with this Cinderella story. Cat has a zest for life and an innate honesty that appealed to me and to Alex, the Prince who visits St Galla. Unfortunately he really believes she is the Princess—at least in the beginning.
It’s a situation to make your average prince run for the hills—especially when he begins falling for her. Fortunately Alex is a man who can deal with just about anything. Isn’t that a wonderful trait in a man? The fraught situation challenges Cat and Alex to the max, and it brings out the best in them too.
I was so happy when this pair, who got off to such a rocky start, found their happy ending. I hope you are too!
Warmest regards,
Annie
Contents
CAT VAULTED OVER the low wall, her blood singing at the sheer joy of running parcours. Her breathing was fast but her movements measured as she and Paolo raced through the abandoned warehouse.
She vaulted, then made a tic-tac of her feet on a wall as she built momentum and leapt, grabbing the edge of an empty skylight. Swinging, Cat hauled herself up and over the edge. It was there Paolo passed her. She was fast and agile but he beat her hands-down in upper body strength.
With a whoop he was away, across the roof to clatter down an empty stairwell while she raced to draw close. Bounding off stairs, walls and a balustrade, she’d almost caught him when they reached the perimeter fence.
‘Mine today,’ he gasped.
Cat nodded, bracing hands on knees. Her ponytail swung over her shoulder as she breathed deep. ‘That passe muraille of yours was faultless.’
He grinned. ‘Something for you to aim for?’
She punched his arm. ‘Almost up to my standard.’
They headed for the exit. ‘Same time next week?’
‘I may have a job out of town. I’ll call.’
He nodded and unlocked his car. ‘You need a lift?’
Cat shook her head. ‘No. I’m heading to the gym.’ The outwardly dilapidated but excellent gym they used was around the corner. She wanted to check on the kids she’d been coaching after school. They were troubled teens, like she’d been. But they showed promise and while she was between jobs she enjoyed being with them.
She turned into the dog-leg alley shortcut, head full of teenagers and their prickly pride. Which was no excuse for the few seconds it took to scope danger. The shiny limo was out of place in this part of New York. But it was the tall guy with the bulge under his jacket, peeling away from the wall, she should have noticed instantly.
He moved fast as a professional. But so was she. When he reached for her she ducked, grabbed his wrist and used his forward momentum to crash him to the ground. Knee between his shoulder blades, she took his gun.
‘Ms Dubois!’
She turned, hearing the man beneath her groan as her knee swivelled. Standing in the doorway of the
