Too Ordinary for the Duke?. Melissa James

Were they about to open? “I’d appreciate it if you’d lock the doors,” she said, mindful not to be imperious or cold. “Please,” she added again, turning to the rearview mirror to smile at the man. “Please, I really need to leave now.”

      After a bare second of hesitation the man started the engine, gunned it, and let it go. Then they were at the gates, which opened smoothly for them. Mari sat twitching in the back seat, tossing constant glances over her shoulder—

      Nothing yet, thank heaven, but he could come at any second. Charlie’s gentle, hands-off approach with Mikhail told her how delicate this situation was. It looked as if things might get ugly if she refused him again. Who’d ever have thought ordinary Mari Mitsialos could become entangled in international relations? But this was a kind of importance she’d give anything to not know! “Faster, oh, please go faster,” she pleaded, worst-case scenarios running riot through her head.

      A smothered sound like a laugh met her desperate plea, but the limo moved through the gates. As Jazmine had stated they would, they swung closed behind the limo.

      Flashes popped as the paparazzi assumed it was the bride and groom. She cringed away from the lights, covering her face; then they were through the thronged crowds. The boom gates and road spikes placed at the end of the private road, for royal safety in case of war, did the job on their pursuit, stopping the cars and bursting the tyres of the motorbikes. There’d be an official apology later, and talk of accidents, no doubt—and in the meantime the royal limo headed at breakneck speed for the royal pier.

      CHAPTER TWO

      AS HE drove for the royal pier, the note from the King and Queen of Hellenia lying open by his side, Lysander Marsalis wondered when would be the best time to tell her that he wasn’t really a chauffeur, but a duke, with distant ties to the royal family …

      The eleventh Duke of Persolis since his brother’s retirement to a monastery a year ago, and a royal diplomat for the past decade, Sander was the current minder of the spoiled Royal Highness from whom the King’s cousin was currently bolting. He’d been sanctioned by both the King and Queen to discreetly take the girl out of a situation fraught with a hundred potential landmines in the way of international diplomacy.

      At the very least he was going to lose his position in Chalnikan for acting against Mikhail’s interests—but having been given the orders by both Mikhail’s father and Charlie, what else could he do?

      “Can’t we go any faster … please?”

      A grin tugged at reluctant lips. The please, like all the others, had been so obviously tacked on as an afterthought. “Not without being arrested, miss.”

      “Oh.” She slumped in her seat. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

      The grin vanished. The girl … Mari … really was worried—and yet she took the time to be concerned about his position as well. She was a nice young woman, far too sweet and innocent for an infamous playboy prince only after some fun. “Not much longer, miss. In perhaps ten minutes we’ll arrive safely.”

      Relief rose in her face like the morning sun, until all of her seemed to glow. “Oh, thank you. I must seem like a drama queen, but I really need to get away.”

      In the space of ten minutes Sander had begun to feel as if he was living on a roller coaster. This girl really lived on her emotions. “Was the wedding so bad, miss?”

      She rolled her eyes. “You have no idea.”

      He strongly suspected the title “drama queen” wasn’t entirely incorrect. Mari Mitsialos, with her mercurial and vivid emotions rushing across her face like movie panels, was a refreshing change from the languid debutantes and elegantly bored nobles’ daughters paraded in royal company every year. Every thought and feeling showed on her face, like sunshine bursting through clouds. She was just … cute.

      It was obvious she wasn’t born to privilege. In high-society circles one never snapped at underlings; one merely conveyed the impression that disobedience to the slightest whim wasn’t an option. But Mari had a cute little wobble in her voice that gave her away. Please, I need you to do what I want, because I’m so scared you won’t, and I’ll have no idea what to do then … With a little training, she could be—

      “It’s all right, miss, no one’s following us,” Sander said in a soothing tone as he saw her twist around to stare through the rear window for at least the twelfth time.

      “Ooooh … that’s good. Thank you.” The girl leaned back against the plush, butter-soft leather, and smiled into the rear vision mirror at him. “Honestly, you have no idea what it was like in there.”

      The smile lit her face—in fact, it lit the entire car with inner sunshine. Despite her apparent addiction to italicising a word in almost every sentence, Mari Mitsialos was pretty, with long dark curls and sleepy eyes similar to her cousin the Princess Giulia—but when she smiled she was … well, dazzling.

      That smile was lethal. Not that she had dimples or perfect teeth—he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. But whatever it was Mari had, she had it in spades. The It factor.

      He’d known that from the day of Charlie and Jazmine’s wedding. Seeing her dancing at the reception, he’d known Mari was unusual. From a shadowed corner he’d watched her laugh and smile and charm every man between fifteen and ninety-five into adoration without even trying. She was … well, lovable.

      All of which meant he’d kept a serious distance. Mari was a nice girl, not one for a few nights’ fun or discreet liaisons in designated places. And she was the King’s cousin.

      He had to remember to keep his face stolid, like a servant, as he answered. “I’d have thought a royal wedding with this new royal family would be a lovely affair, miss. You’ve been to both weddings, if I remember rightly?”

      He put a tiny hint of question into the observation, leaving the way free for her to talk if she wanted to. It was obvious she was bursting to say something, to relieve the pressure somehow. Unfortunately her immediate family seemed oblivious to Mikhail’s true intent, and pushed her into his arms at every opportunity. Poor girl … He’d noticed—

      Don’t think about it, Sander. He had to keep the King and Queen of Hellenia on side. He needed to come out of this madcap experience with some kind of credibility, and that meant a strictly hands-off policy.

      “Yes, I was at both weddings. I’m first cousin to both Charlie, um, King Kyriacos, and Lia, I mean Princess Giulia,” she replied, with a quiet touch of pride that made Sander squelch another smile. Well, why shouldn’t she be proud? From obscurity to the cousin of royalty was a leap in status most people could only dream of.

      “The King, the Prince and Princess have brought a breath of fresh air to the nation,” he offered, to see what she’d say next.

      “Yes—and it was needed, from what I can see.” Though she spoke without rancour, he felt a touch of defensiveness. She probably thought he was one of the old King’s supporters, wanting to keep the almost medieval status quo.

      “Their knowledge of the common people seems to have reinvigorated the country. They’ve done a lot already in putting Lord Orakis at odds with the people,” he said.

      “He can never return after the arson investigation. That was down to Toby—the new Prince. Toby’s one of the original good guys. He saved Lia’s life, years ago—and he risked his life in that burning building to prove Orakis’s guilt. He did that to save Lia. He would do anything to make Lia happy—anything.”

      Ah, there it was again, the tiny, wistful note. Sander knew then why Mikhail’s chase had been fruitless from the start. The extreme romance of the two royal weddings in the Hellenican royal family had infected many a woman around the world, but to be the cousin of the new royalty in love … well, why shouldn’t she hold out for real love and a wedding?

      “They