Modern Romance November 2015 Books 1-4. Trish Morey

coming to rest.

      Like coming to the end of a long walk in the wilderness, making it to the summit and finally seeing what she’d been traveling toward all her life. Her destiny, laid out before her.

      A princess in a palace, with her prince at her side.

      “We will put Zara’s assistant in touch with you,” Andres said.

      “I’m Julia Shuler,” the woman offered. “If you need to get hold of me.”

      “Thank you, Julia. I’m looking forward to coordinating something.”

      “We must go, Princess. We have a reservation.”

      Zara looked up at Andres. “For what?”

      “For that dinner I owe you.”

      * * *

      The restaurant was beautiful, situated at the top of a hill overlooking the glittering city below. Zara had never been to such a fine place, the palace in Tirimia excluded. She had been spoiled by lovely food since coming here, but somehow this felt different. Perhaps because they were making a public showing, together. Perhaps because she had been fashioned into a woman who looked as though she belonged on Andres’s arm.

      Perhaps just because she was excited. She was out to dinner with Andres. It was, for all intents and purposes, her first date.

      She could scarcely think back to the woman she had been yesterday. The one who had tried to sabotage their arrangement by making a spectacle during the luncheon. She felt different now. Being with him had changed something. It had changed her.

      She lifted the glass of wine to her lips, trying to orient herself to what was happening. To the fact that she was here. Sitting across from the most handsome man she had ever seen in her life, sipping on the most marvelous drink she’d ever had. She was warm. She was wearing beautiful clothes. There was a teacher who wanted to use her skills.

      She was part of the royal family.

      “You don’t have to volunteer for the schools if you don’t want to,” Andres said, taking a sip of his own wine.

      “But I want to,” she said. “I told you, I want to find out what I’m good at. What I want to do. I was a younger daughter and I imagine that even if I had stayed in Tirimia, this is the sort of thing I would have done. And maybe I can figure out some of the specific needs of the people here if I’m working with them on such a close level. There might be some other things I could arrange. Charities.” She smiled. “I enjoyed the kids back in the encampment I lived in. They didn’t put so much distance between themselves and me. I really do love children.”

      “That’s good.”

      She tilted her head to the side. “Why is that good?”

      “Because we will have children. We may yet have one on the way already, as careless as we’ve been.”

      Her heart stalled, then slammed into her chest. “Oh.” Of course. They had taken no precautions against pregnancy. She had not thought of that until now. She waited to feel angry. To feel sad. She didn’t. The thought of a baby—Andres’s baby—only filled her with more of that same warmth from earlier.

      They really would be a family. She had been alone for so long, and now she felt she was spoiled with company. A man who would be her husband, who would share her bed. A child. Just for a moment she allowed herself to be nothing more than completely happy. Filled with joy, filled with anticipation.

      “I hope you aren’t upset,” he said, breaking her out of her reverie.

      “Upset? Why would I be upset? I’m...happy.”

      Andres looked completely shocked by that statement, but there was no way he could have been more surprised than Zara herself. But, surprising as it was, it was true. Today, he had shown her something other than the palace. Today, he had shown her what she could mean, not just to her country, not just to him, but to others. And what others could mean to her. She was beginning to feel that she was part of something. A part of the people here in this country, of the royal family.

      “Forgive me for feeling surprised by that, Princess. But just yesterday you tried to get yourself thrown out.”

      She lifted a shoulder. “Things change.”

      A shadow fell over his expression, and he took another sip of wine. “I suppose sometimes things do change. But people rarely do.”

      “Why does that sound ominous?”

      “It shouldn’t. Just realistic. I want you to understand that just because what you want has changed, it doesn’t mean that I will.”

      “Because you’re so very terrible?” She had yet to see evidence of this legendary playboy and lapsed prince. Andres wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t entirely certain she could characterize him as nice. But she liked him. He was full of passion, fire and intensity. And, though he would deny it, conviction.

      Deeper than the conviction was the pain. Pain that she had heard in the cracks of the story he’d told about his mother. In his explanation for why he had slept with his brother’s fiancée. How deeply must a man hate himself to try and make everyone else hate him too? Beneath his words now, she sensed it. That same intent.

      “There are quite a few people on this earth who would tell you that I am.”

      “Happily for you, I am not one of them. Which is really quite convenient when you think about it. I doubt you want a wife who hates you.”

      He laughed, the sound like the edge of a rusty knife’s blade. “It may be inevitable. I’m not entirely certain as I’ve never had a wife before.”

      “It’s only inevitable if you make it so. It’s your decision.”

      “And yours, I think, Princess,” he said, a strange kind of insincerity coating his words.

      “Then I purpose to like you. For a very long time.” She was quite satisfied with the declaration.

      “Very kind of you.”

      A moment later the waitstaff appeared, putting plates down in front of them. It was chicken, which made her smile because he’d remembered that he owed her chicken. “I like you even more now.”

      “You are very cheaply bought.”

      “If you recall, I was a gift.” She sliced a small piece off her chicken and took a bite. She chewed thoughtfully, then smiled. “I was quite cheap for you. Free even.”

      “Yes. My little fruit basket.”

      “On a fruit-basket scale I’m quite large. Impressive.”

      “Yes, but on the scale of small, feral women, you are tiny.”

      “I have no frame of reference for playboy princes and how large or small they might be. Though I would consider you large.” She felt her face get hot and she took another bite of food.

      “Are you trying to engage me in a bit of dirty talk?” His eyes glittered with amusement and she decided that keeping that look on his face would become a goal of hers.

      Help children with reading, find useful ways to spend her time, make Andres’s eyes glitter.

      She added to her list.

      “Perhaps. But I have no experience with that.”

      “Tell me.” He shifted in his chair. “What do you have experience with?”

      “Well, as you know, I have a great amount of experience wandering the woods alone. As you’ve seen today, I have some experience with children. I have some experience with grief. And now I have a bit of experience with sex.”

      The glitter in his eyes turned molten. “Not nearly enough as far as I’m concerned. I will have to expand your education.”

      “I feel agreeable to that.”

      “Well,