The Marcelli Princess

She leaned against the bed. “Let me guess. Less well mannered.”

“He has not been raised in a palace.”

“You’re going to have to teach him to salute.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Even the mother of the heir should take care not to mock the crown prince.”

She grinned. “Oooh, will the big, bad prince punish me now?”

“No, because that is what you want.” He picked up one of the race cars. “When I was his age, I could already recite the lineage of my family back to the twelfth century.”

“There’s a party trick.”

“It is not a trick. It is who we are.”

“It’s who you are. And Danny’s not you. He’s not even four yet. Give him a break.”

Rafael appreciated her concern, but he also resented it. How strange. Perhaps if his mother had lived she would have…

He shook off the thought. “Before I left for school in England, I was already attending meetings of state. I would visit with my father three times a week and listen while he explained what was going on in our country and in the world.”

“Arranged meetings?” she asked. “What about just hanging out. Playing, having him read you a story?”

“He is the king. He does not read stories.”

“Right. Because he has a staff to do that.” She leaned over and put her hand on his arm. “I’m sorry.”

He stiffened. “Your apology is not required.”

“I wasn’t apologizing. I was expressing sympathy and compassion. That’s a tough life for any kid. It shouldn’t have been like that.”

He stood and glared down at her. “It was exactly as it should have been. I am crown prince-”

She rose, put her hands on his shoulders, and cut him off with a brief kiss. “Get defensive much?” she asked as she drew back. “I know who you are. You’ve lived a life of great privilege and that’s wonderful, but you’ve also paid a price for that. Everyone has trade-offs. Yours were different from most, but they still existed. That’s okay.”

He hated what she was saying as much as his body wanted to respond to her nearness.

“I do not need you making excuses for me,” he told her.

“I’m not. I’m saying that childhood is a tough gig, even for a prince. No kid should have to get dressed up and have an appointment to see a parent. Parents should be the safest place in the world, and so many times they’re not.”

He didn’t want to think about that-about how his father had been a stranger. There had been other people he could depend on. His uncle Vidal had talked to him about life and been a trusted confidant.

Mia took his hand and tugged until he sat next to her on the bed. “I have a question.”

“That is hardly unusual.”

“True. What would you be or do if you weren’t a prince?”

He stared at her. “I am a prince.”

“Yes, we’re all totally clear on that. The flashing neon sign over your head doesn’t let anyone forget. But if you weren’t, what would you be? How would you make a living?”

“I have never considered such a thing.”

Except he had…once. Rafael had spent a month his summer before university on the private island of a friend of his father’s. There had been no press, no parties, no public appearances. Just the large house and its staff, along with those people indigenous to the island.

None of them had cared who he was or where he came from. They lived their lives bound by the seasons, growing crops, marrying, having children, getting old, and then dying.

“A doctor,” he said without thinking, then wished he hadn’t spoken.

“Really? An actual medical doctor?”

He nodded stiffly. “I would take care of people. I would also do research to fight diseases.”

“You mean help them?” She sounded both intrigued and disbelieving.

“This conversation has no purpose.”

“It does for me,” she told him. “I’m still trying to figure you out. I wouldn’t have thought a doctor.”

It was a moment to push his advantage. He should discuss this more and allow Mia to believe he was everything she wanted. Instead he asked, “And you? When you were a young girl, what did you want to be or do?”

She laughed. “I wanted to rule the world. Sort of the ultimate imperial queen. It’s been a joke in my family for years. Instead I decided to become a diplomat and along the way ended up, very briefly, being a spy. You know the rest.”

He touched her cheek. “You would make a very good imperial queen. But why did you become a spy?”

Her brown eyes darkened. “Someone fooled me. I didn’t want that to ever happen again.”

Rafael stayed where he was, right next to Mia, but a part of him wanted to pull away. He was there to fool her. Perhaps in the biggest way possible. If there was another way…

There wasn’t, he reminded himself. This was for a greater good. There was no choice. Funny how early he’d learned that in his life. For him, there never was a choice.

9

“I’m loving this,” Katie said as she and Mia walked toward the gazebo behind the wine-tasting room. “I’m semi-mother of the groom. I get all the fun bits and none of the stress.”

Mia laughed. “Sort of like being the grandparent? Loading the grandkids up on sugar, then sending them home to crash?”

“Exactly. Amber’s mother is handling the majority of the details and only calls every now and then.”

Mia raised her eyebrows. “You are so lying. You are desperate to run every minute of the wedding and it’s killing you not to.”

Katie sighed. “Maybe. Okay, yes. I mean I am a professional party planner. You’d think she’d be impressed by that. But noooo. Every conversation Amber and I have, she’s very determined to make it clear she and her mother are in charge. It’s David’s wedding, too.”

Mia wasn’t used to hearing her oldest sister whine and was really enjoying the moment. “What does David say?”

“He’s a typical man. Whatever Amber wants is fine with him.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not, it’s just…” Katie lowered her voice. “Do you know they actually considered paper napkins. This is a formal sit-down dinner for three hundred and they discussed paper napkins.”

“Did you run screaming into the night?”

Katie sighed again. “No. I reminded them that the linens, along with the tables and chairs, were being provided by Marcelli Winery. We have weddings here all the time and like to use our own vendors. Paper napkins. Can you imagine?”

“You didn’t tell them that we pay our vendor, did you?”

Katie tucked her hair behind her ears. “I didn’t really see the point. They’re not paying for it.” She stopped and looked at Mia. “Am I being horrible? I know weddings are expensive, and saving money where you can makes sense. But this is for David. I adore him and I want his wedding to be perfect.”

“It’s okay,” Mia told her, still enjoying the sight of her normally unflappable sister just a little…flapped. “David doesn’t actually care one way or the other about the napkins, but you do. If you can make it happen without upsetting Amber and her mother, then go for it.”

“I’ve probably put together a hundred and fifty weddings,” Katie muttered. “Why can’t they talk to me?”

“Because we are the Marcellis and just a little intimidating for regular folks. Plus there’s the whole ‘Amber