The Simply Scandalous Princess. Michele Dunaway

form-fitting gown in the Korosolan colors of royal blue and silver only accented her radiance. What little makeup she wore only enhanced her natural beauty.

      Even from where he stood on the edge of the dance floor, he could see that her eyes were green. How he could see her eyes from ten feet away was incomprehensible, but somehow Harrison could see, and he just knew.

      From afar he basked in her glow, feasting on her beauty like a thirsty man seeing water. For a moment time seemed to stop, and frozen there he knew he’d never felt this way before.

      She seemed to sense his scrutiny, for she turned her head and ran her gaze quickly over him. He felt the electric shock from just her look. Then the waltz turned her graceful body away from him.

      As the connection broke, Harrison shook himself. Way too young, he told himself simply. Whoever she was, from the way she moved and looked he guessed her to be not more than twenty-six. He had a son older than that.

      “Excuse me.”

      Harrison started as a soft, feminine voice floated over to him. He turned slightly, and there she was. In heels she stood just about eye to eye with his six-foot figure. Up close, her willowy grace was pure beauty, and he blinked just to see if she was truly real or simply the vision of a lonely man.

      She touched his sleeve, her fingertips light as feathers. “Would you care to dance?”

      Would he? He shouldn’t. Excuses rose to his lips. “I…”

      “Please,” she said softly, her voice a mere silken whisper. “From your uniform I know you’re Korosolan, and I would be so grateful. See that man coming this way?” She gestured a manicured finger toward a man headed in their direction. His bright red hair offset his freckles and contrasted with his ill-fitting tuxedo. “That’s Larry Zimmer, and no matter how many times I say no, he can’t get the picture. Would you perform the duty of helping a lady in distress?”

      “I would be honored to,” Harrison said. Under the guise of duty, he took the arm she offered. A frisson of desire shot through him as he guided her to the dance floor.

      She linked her hands to his. “Thank you,” she said as another waltz began.

      Harrison struggled to make light of the moment as he led her around the dance floor. “So you would rather dance with an old man to escape a young one?”

      As if she found his comment funny, her smile widened. “What old man? You mean my grandfather? We danced earlier.”

      Harrison returned her smile with one of his own. “I meant…”

      “I know what you meant,” she said simply. Her green-eyed gaze held his. “But I figured you needed an excuse. If not, you may never have asked me.”

      He wouldn’t have, either. “You’re right,” he admitted.

      “I know,” she replied. “So I helped you along.”

      Was this woman magic? She’d somehow seen right through him.

      “I’m glad you did,” he said. And he was. For holding her felt as if he was holding a slice of heaven.

      As the music shifted pace, he drew her a little closer. She smelled like roses, and her skin felt like the softest silk. There, during the moments on the dance floor, Harrison found himself feeling younger, feeling more alive than he’d been in years.

      His fingers once grazed the small of her back, and an electric tremor shot through him as her eyes darkened to jade.

      “You’re a wonderful dancer,” she said.

      Speak again, Harrison thought, for to my ears your words are like the purest music.

      “As are you,” he replied instead.

      She simply acknowledged his return compliment with a slight inclination of her head.

      Time never stops for love, Harrison thought as the musical number drew to an end.

      “I believe he’s gone,” he whispered as he guided her off the dance floor.

      “He is, but I’d still like to dance with you,” she said. “Perhaps this next number?”

      “There you are!”

      Harrison turned as King Easton came up to him. Being the same height, and after working with the king for such a long time, Harrison wondered why he hadn’t noticed the particular color of Easton’s eyes before. They reminded him of…

      “I see you’ve met Lucia.”

      Harrison turned to see whom Easton was referring to.

      “Hello again, Grandfather,” Lucia replied. She kept her fingers lightly on Harrison’s arm. “Are you enjoying the reception?”

      “Absolutely,” Easton replied. He gestured, and Harrison watched as his son, Devon, came forward. “Here she is, Devon. She was dancing with your father. Now take her out on the dance floor. Lucia’s too young to spend her time with all us elderly types.”

      Harrison grimaced. How old that made him sound!

      Lucia gently removed her fingers. “Thank you for the dance,” she said politely.

      Devon gave her a low bow. “May I have this dance, Princess Lucia?”

      “You may, Sir Montcalm,” she said as she took his arm.

      Harrison watched her go. She glanced back over at him, and then as if remembering her role, she slid into a neutral facade and followed Devon’s lead.

      “Beautiful, isn’t she?” King Easton asked. “While I’m partial to CeCe’s beauty because she’s so much like my beloved Cassandra,” Easton mentioned his deceased wife, “one has to admit that Lucia has an innate beauty that is all her own.”

      “Indeed,” Harrison somehow managed to agree noncommittally. The woman he had been dancing with was Princess Lucia!

      “They make such a perfect couple.” Easton nodded with a contented smile. “Don’t you agree?”

      Harrison looked at where his son held Lucia. She’d bowed her head, and was listening to something he said. A pang of jealousy shot through him. He tamped it down. His duty was, as always, to his king. “They make a good couple,” he stated, although his heart wasn’t anywhere near the words.

      “I think so,” Easton said, obviously pleased that Lucia and Devon were beginning their second dance. “Ah, there’s Charlotte. Please excuse me, Harrison.”

      Harrison bowed as the king moved away. Then he turned and took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. He’d had nothing to drink all evening, for Harrison never drank while in any type of royal capacity, but for tonight he’d make an exception with one glass.

      After all, when the woman of your dreams is designated for your son, a little champagne can’t hurt.

      “Shall we dance again?”

      He tensed. He’d know her voice anywhere; already it had imbedded itself into his consciousness and into his soul.

      “That wouldn’t be proper, Princess Lucia,” he replied, his tone deliberately cool.

      “Proper?” Lucia frowned. Then a small tight smile came over her face. “Ah, Sir Harrison Mont-calm, man of duty, is back in full armor.” She saw his surprise. “Your son spent most of his time talking about you, and your many accomplishments.” She lifted a glass of champagne from a waiter and drained it in two gulps.

      “Well, Sir Harrison Montcalm, I’m sure someone will fill you in that I’m not always proper. In fact, my date is that rock musician over there. I only brought him because it would annoy my mother, and keep her from playing matchmaker.”

      With a thump, Lucia placed her empty champagne flute on a nearby table. Harrison winced for the flute.

      “While I know all the correct etiquette,