Propositioned By The Prince. Jennifer Lewis

      “That’s why we installed the theater, dear.” His mother patted her lips with a napkin.

      Lani’s eyes sparkled. She was clearly delighted to defy his expectations. Her bright gaze sent a shimmer of—something straight to his core.

      Great. Just what he needed.

      “We’re your biggest fans.” His mother patted his hand. “And we’ll have the party this Saturday.”

      “How can you plan it so quickly?”

      She smiled. “Easy, dear. No one turns down an invitation to the palace, and we have the most talented and creative staff in the Pacific.”

      “There is that.” AJ winked at her. “You really are something, Mom. If a party will make you feel better, you go ahead and have one.”

      “You will be there.”

      “I’ll be there.” He didn’t hide the sigh of resignation in his voice. How could you argue with your own grieving mother? “Just don’t ask me to make any speeches.”

      “Why don’t you two go pick some flowers? We’ll use them to decorate the ballroom.”

      AJ raised an eyebrow. A flower-picking expedition? Clearly his mom had not given up on the idea of getting them together. “I’m sure the flowers are happier in the ground.”

      “Nonsense. They bloom better if you pluck them from time to time. Don’t they, Lani?”

      Lani smiled. “Some of them do. I’ll go get the shears and some jugs for them.” She didn’t look at AJ.

      His mom’s lips curved into a smile. “Take good care of Lani, won’t you? Don’t let her strain herself.”

      AJ glanced at Lani, who once again was looking away. No doubt she was quite capable of deciding just how much strain she could handle. His mom probably had visions of him carrying her up hills or lifting her delicately over puddles. Hopefully Lani wouldn’t expect him to, as he had no intention of going within five feet of her. She was dangerous.

      They set off into the gardens, AJ carrying two metal jugs. Lani tucked a pair of shears into the pocket of her dress. It had rained overnight—as it usually did—and the leaves glistened with raindrops. A swallow darted around them as they headed toward the orchid forest down a narrow path of carved stones. Lani had removed her sandals and walked barefoot, Rahiian style. AJ kept his Skechers on, though he regretted it as they became increasingly sodden. “I’d forgotten how wet it is here.”

      “That’s why they call it the rainforest.” Lani shot him a cheeky look. The unusual golden color of her eyes struck him and he snatched his gaze away.

      “Soggy, is what I call it. Now, L.A. has my kind of climate. A nice dry desert.”

      “With a decorative haze of smog.” Lani marched straight ahead, her pretty toes splayed on the mossy stones.

      “Exactly. Who needs to see all those mountains anyway?

      Hey, there’s a flower.” A delicate bloom peeked its head around the trunk of a tree.

      “Lovely.” Lani stopped and walked up to it. “But it’s rather a rare orchid that only blooms every four years. I think we should leave it to enjoy its moment of glory here in this beautiful place. I’m not sure it would be happy in the ballroom.”

      AJ snorted. “I’m not sure anyone’s ever happy in that ballroom, but they darn sure pretend to be. Why is Mom so good at getting what she wants? “

      “She puts a lot of energy into everything she does. And she’s a very loving person.”

      “Yes, she loves it when things go her way.”

      “She’s always treated me like a daughter.”

      “You are her daughter. In law, at least.”

      “My mom runs a laundry and my dad is American. I’m hardly Rahiian aristocracy. She could have treated me quite differently.”

      AJ shrugged. “So? Snobbery is not really a Rahiian thing. You’re probably more aware of it because of your years in America. Was it odd moving here from New Jersey? It must have been quite the lifestyle change.”

      She laughed. “I missed my bike. And my friend Kathy. I loved the beaches and all the colorful birds.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. “And of course I missed my dad.”

      “They got divorced?”

      “Yup. My mom never really became Americanized. She refused to learn to drive, and she hated being out in crowded shops, so she tended to buy everything at the corner store.”

      “If corner stores in New Jersey are anything like the ones in L.A., she was getting ripped off.”

      “I’m sure. She didn’t like American clothes and wouldn’t cut her hair. At first my dad thought all those things were cute, but after a few years he got tired of her traditional attitudes and began pushing her to adapt.”

      “But she didn’t.”

      “She couldn’t. She’s very shy. She probably only married him in the first place because she was too timid to say no.” Lani bent down to smell a pretty white lily at the base of a tree.

      “Or he swept her off her feet.”

      “Probably some of that, too.” She walked ahead, veering from the path into a little tunnel through the undergrowth. “But after eight years he called it quits and packed her off back home.”

      AJ ducked to avoid wet leaves brushing his hair. “Did Vanu sweep you off your feet?”

      She flinched slightly, just a slight tic of her shoulders.

      “It must be painful to think about him.”

      “It’s okay. It wasn’t really like that. Vanu saw me in the marketplace one day. He liked the look of me, and your mom found out who I was and invited me to the palace. It was all very formal. The marriage proposal was delivered to our house—behind the laundry, of course—by his footman.”

      “Not very romantic.” AJ watched her slender form, clad in its delicate floral pattern, stepping daintily through the forest.

      “Not at all. I didn’t even know him at that point. We’d had about five minutes of conversation.”

      “So why did you agree to marry him?”

      She shrugged. “Everyone said I had to. There really wasn’t any question of not marrying him. My mom would never have forgiven me, for one thing, so I’d have spent the rest of my life in the laundry with her glaring at me.” She made a face.

      “I see what you mean. Well, rest assured this time. Even my mom can’t force you and I to get married.”

      She froze, then kept walking. For a second she wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold—impossible since it was already at least eighty-five degrees, even in the lush shade.

      “Have I offended you?” He snatched a leaf from a nearby shrub, then wondered why he’d done it. He pressed the plump, succulent leaf between his fingers.

      “Not at all. I admire your independent attitude.”

      “You could always develop one yourself, you know.” He was tempted to reach out and prod her in the ribs, but pulled his hand back at the last second. Even the thought of touching her made his fingertips prickle with awareness.

      She was silent for a moment. “No. I couldn’t let your mother down. She’s been too good to me. She’s lonely, you know, since your father died. She misses him very much. And now, losing Vanu…” She rubbed her arm, as if soothing goose bumps.

      “She’s lucky to have you, Lani.”

      “She’s expecting us to find some flowers. We’d better get to work.” Her wry glance