Expecting Royal Twins! (5 page)

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Authors: Melissa McClone

Tags: #Mechanics (Persons), #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Princes

BOOK: Expecting Royal Twins!
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“Stuck?”

“Having to go to Vernonia to annul the marriage and get my inheritance,” she admitted. “Unfortunately I have no idea what’s going to happen once we arrive. I may have been born there, but it might as well be Mars.”

Niko’s assessing gaze made her feel like one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters. “Vernonia is different from what you are used to. Some would call the country old-fashioned. Others antiquated. Especially when it comes to gender roles.”

Izzy half laughed with a mix of desperation and fear. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

“I will not lie to you, Isabel,” he said. “Your life has changed. But you will not have to deal with any of this on your own.”

A sense of inadequacy swept through her. Izzy was used to handling everything on her own, but she was completely out of her comfort zone here and practically shaking in her held-together-with-super-glue tennis shoes.

“It will be my pleasure to help you,” he offered.

Niko made a dashing knight in shining armor, but Izzy didn’t like being cast in the role of damsel in distress. She didn’t want or need his help. “Thanks, but I can do this on my own.”

Please let me be able to do this on my own.

With a deep breath, Izzy stood and stepped through the doorway of the plane.

“Welcome aboard, Your Royal Highness,” a male flight attendant with a crew cut and navy blue uniform greeted. “We have a seven course dinner for you as well as movies for your entertainment.”

It took Izzy a minute to realize the man was addressing her. “Thank you,” she muttered, wondering how he knew who she was.

The flight attendant smiled at her. “Would you like me to escort you to your seat, ma’am?”

“Thank you, Luka, but I will show Princess Isabel the way,” Niko said before Izzy could answer.

Luka bowed. “Enjoy your flight, ma’am, sir.”

“I thought you wanted to keep my identity a secret to avoid publicity,” she whispered to Niko as she moved away from Luka.

“Only until after we appear before the High Court,” he explained quietly.

As his male scent surrounded her, heat rushed through her veins. She hoped the High Court would be their first stop after they landed.

“Do not worry,” he continued. “The crew is part of the Vernonian Air Force. They can be trusted with the information. As can the palace staff.”

That seemed like a lot of people in on the secret, but he was the prince. “If you say so.”

“I do.”

Izzy made her way down the aisle, holding her backpack in front of her. The interior, a mix of warm beiges, browns and blues, created a welcoming environment. Couches and tables filled the first section of the cabin.

“This is the lounge area,” Niko explained. “Feel free to come up here if you want to stretch your legs.”

“I doubt I’ll unfasten my seat belt during the flight.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “That may get uncomfortable if you have to use the facilities.”

Her cheeks warmed. She hadn’t considered that.

The second section of the cabin contained rows of seats. The wide leather seats looked comfortable and luxurious, not narrow and cramped and squished together as her high school classmates had described after their graduation trip to the Caribbean. Izzy hadn’t been able to afford the trip, so had stayed home and worked at Rowdy’s garage.

Times sure had changed. Mechanic Izzy Poussard was now Princess Isabel, the wife of the crown prince of Vernonia. She nearly laughed at the absurdity of it.

“This is where we sit for takeoff and landing, or, if you choose,” Niko said, “the entire flight.”

Izzy passed the row where Jovan sat. A few other seats were taken by people she hadn’t seen before. She continued to the last row of empty seats before a divider.

Before she could sit, a female flight attendant rushed from the rear of the plane. The young woman wore a navy jacket and skirt. Her blond hair was neatly braided into a bun. “Good evening. Allow me to hold your backpack for you, Your Royal Highness.”

Before Izzy could say a word, the backpack strap was lifted out of her hand. Every one of her muscles tensed, bunching into tight balls. She wasn’t used to being catered to. It was disconcerting because she didn’t feel like royalty.

She sat in the window seat and buckled her seat belt.

The flight attendant handed the backpack to Izzy. “Would you care for something to drink or eat, ma’am?”

“No, thanks.” Izzy didn’t want to upset her stomach any more than it already was. Her nerves were getting the best of her. Over the flight, over Vernonia, over Niko. Maybe if she distracted herself…

She pressed a button that turned on the overhead light. She twisted a knob that regulated the airflow nozzle.

Niko sat next to her. “Are you certain you do not want anything?”

Izzy wanted this to be over with. “No, thanks, Your Highness.”

“Call me Niko.”

“I’m not sure I should get in the habit of calling you by your first name. As soon as our marriage is annulled I doubt you’d want to be on such familiar terms with a commoner.”

“You are not a commoner,” he said. “You are a princess by birth. Royal Sachestian blood flows through your veins.”

“That may be true, but I was raised American. Royalty is something other countries have.”

“Americans have unofficial royalty. The Kennedys, the Rockefellers, the Hiltons.”

“I suppose, but a princess isn’t something I aspired to be beyond the age of four or five. Wearing a tiara has never been a dream of mine.”

“You may feel like an American, but you are a Vernonian.” He spoke as if her being a Vernonian was the most important thing she could be. No one had ever spoken to her that way. Not even Uncle Frank. “You will be amazed by the history of your family.”

Intrigued, she leaned toward him. “I have a family history?”

“Your lineage goes back centuries. Your father’s family played an integral role in the formation of our country, when Sachestia in the north merged with the south to form what we now call Vernonia.” He fastened his seat belt. “If you have questions about anything, please ask.”

“I—” The lights in the cabin flickered. She clutched the seat armrests until her knuckles turned white. “What’s that?”

“The APU, auxiliary power unit, coming on,” he explained. “It powers the lights and air system while we are in flight.”

“Oh, yeah. I should have remembered that.”

The plane moved backward.

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.

“Do not worry.” Niko covered her hand with his large one. His skin was warm, but not soft. Scars and calluses covered his hand and fingers. “The plane is being moved so the pilot can taxi to the runway.”

Forget about the plane. His touch disturbed her more than it comforted. She tried to slip her hand from beneath his, but couldn’t. “I’m sorry if I’ve acted like a wimp, but I’m okay now.”

“You’ve handled everything remarkably well, Isabel. You should be proud of yourself.”

He wouldn’t let Izzy remove her hand from his, but his words made her sit taller. She wanted to be brave for him, but mostly herself. That was what Uncle Frank would have wanted her to be.

The engines roared to life. She sucked in a breath.

Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about.

The words became a mantra.

The plane taxied to the runway. Out the window, she saw the airport lights shining in the darkness. Pretty, but she would rather be at home watching a television show than sitting on a luxurious private jet holding hands with a handsome prince.

Too late to back out now.

Izzy pressed her feet against the floor of the plane.

“We will be in the air shortly,” Niko said.

All she could do was nod.

The jet lurched to a stop. The engines whined, the sound growing louder. She was too nervous to appreciate the speed of the rotor. The cabin shook like the crowd at Daytona when cars went three wide. Izzy held her breath.

Suddenly the jet speeded down the runway.

She glanced out the window at the world passing by her.

“Remember to breathe,” he said.

She did.

Nikola squeezed her hand.

This time his touch reassured her. She met his eyes. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. She thought about kissing him until she couldn’t think straight, but that seemed a little extreme. Maybe burying her face against his chest until this was over would be better. She closed her eyes instead.

“Look at me, Isabel.”

She forced her eyes open. Her gaze locked with his intense green eyes.

“You are safe,” he said. “As long as you are with me, you will always be safe.”

The confidence and strength he exuded made her almost believe his words. But she knew
safe
didn’t really exist. If it did her parents would be alive. Uncle Frank, too.

The vibrations increased until she thought the plane might break apart. The forward momentum pushed her back against her seat. Niko laced his fingers with hers.

The plane lifted off the ground.

The lights below grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared altogether. The plane climbed at a steep angle, as if it were a fighter jet not a passenger plane.

The aircraft jolted. She sucked in another breath.

“A patch of turbulence,” Niko said. “Normal.”

None of this was normal. Not the takeoff, not the prince sitting next to her. And certainly not this life-altering adventure she was embarking on.

After what seemed like forever, the plane leveled.

“We’ve reached cruising altitude.” Niko kept his hand on hers. “Not too bad.”

It wasn’t a question.

“No,” she admitted. “But we still have to land.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “Landing will be easier.”

“Really?” she asked.

He nodded. “You’ll be tired due to the time change. You may even be asleep when the wheels touch ground.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be sleeping after everything that’s gone on. My mind’s a big jumble right now.”

“You should try to sleep,” he encouraged her. “Tomorrow will be a big day.”

“Are we going straight to the court?” she asked.

“The High Court is not in session on Saturday. We will go to the castle.”

“Castle?”

“My parents want to meet you.”

“I’ve never met a king or a queen.”

“You have, but you don’t remember.”

“What’s your father like?” Izzy asked. “He’s very…kingly.”

“That’s intimidating,” she admitted. “I’m glad I don’t remember meeting him or I might be more nervous than I already am.”

“He only wants to reassure himself you are alive and well.” Niko squeezed her hand. “You have nothing to worry about.”

This time Izzy knew the prince was wrong. Dead wrong.

She had lots to worry about, starting with the tingles shooting up her arm as he touched her. But even worse was the realization that she didn’t want him to let go of her hand.

Not now.

Not when they landed in Vernonia.

Not…ever.

CHAPTER FOUR
 

A
S THE
plane cruised at thirty-three thousand feet, the interior cabin lights dimmed. The engines droned, but unlike the white noise device Niko usually traveled with, the sound did not soothe him. He couldn’t sleep. Too many things weighed on his mind. But a busy day did lie ahead. He should at least try to rest.

Niko pressed the button on the armrest. The leather seat reclined into a comfortable position. He closed his eyes but couldn’t stop the continuous stream of information flowing through his brain. Thoughts about Vernonia, Julianna, his father and most especially the woman sitting in the seat next to him.

Isabel.

Opening his eyes, he turned toward her.

She sat with her seat reclined and her head resting against a pillow. She’d fallen asleep after struggling against her heavy, drooping eyelids and drawn-out yawns for almost an hour.

Isabel’s unwillingness to give in to her tiredness without a fight made him wonder if she turned everything she did into a battle. Her actions today suggested as much. But the political peace that came with her lineage could be good for the country.

Yes, Isabel seemed like a fighter. No doubt the Vernonian in her. Niko smiled at the thought that she would likely disagree with him. No matter, he would want her on his side. If he had a side. Thankfully those days were over. No one would be forced to choose who to support or who to fight again.

Once he and Julianna said the words “I do,” Niko would have the financial resources and international support to bring his country into the modern age and, in time, the European Union.

Nothing could stand in his way now.

Not an antiquated custom. Not a childhood bride.

Niko’s gaze focused on Isabel once again.

He’d been married to her for the past twenty-three years, almost all of her entire life and over three-quarters of his. If not for the missing bride box, he would have never known she existed. Things would have been less complicated for him that way. But once she received her inheritance her circumstance would improve dramatically. A better life was waiting for Isabel. The life her parents would have wanted for her. That made what he was going through more acceptable.

He worried what responsibilities would be thrust on Isabel’s shoulders once she arrived in Vernonia. People would judge her. She would need training to be a princess. Stylish clothes and makeup lessons would improve her appearance. A manicure would help with her dirty, chipped nails though not much could rid her hands of the calluses, cuts and scars. Perhaps she could start a new fashion trend by wearing gloves.

In spite of Isabel’s faults and disregard for etiquette and style, she was a refreshing change from the other royals he’d encountered over the years. She was not caught up in the tangled web of tradition. Even Julianna, as perfect as she was, came from a kingdom more out-of-date than Vernonia.

He admired Isabel for working on cars. He remembered what being a soldier was like. Living day-to-day, sometimes hour-to-hour. It was the closest thing to an ordinary existence he’d had. Even after she put her mechanic days behind her, she could relate to the people at their level.

Isabel might not know how to be a princess yet, but at least she was a contemporary woman, something rarely found in his country. He could use that to his advantage as he moved forward with his plans. Though right now she looked more like a schoolgirl than a woman with the cashmere blanket tucked around her shoulders.

The cover rose and fell with each of her breaths. Her hair fanned across the pillow, the brown strands contrasting with the white fabric. The slender column of her neck contradicted the stiff backbone she’d shown earlier. The curve of her cheek and fullness of her lips weren’t diminished by the lack of makeup and lip-gloss on her face. She possessed a natural beauty.

Although Niko appreciated her spirit and self-reliance, he couldn’t deny the appeal of this softer side. The defiant set of her chin and tight jaw had relaxed. The result of sleep, but she looked so peaceful and serene. He wondered if she ever looked this way awake. He doubted it.

With her lips slightly parted, she almost appeared to be smiling. The result of a pleasant dream? A dream about him?

No. Her dreams were none of his business. Isabel might be his wife, but he should think of her like a sister. Anything else would be…inappropriate given his intention to marry Julianna.

Isabel shifted in her seat. The way she stretched reminded him of one of the feral cats who lived in the stable. As she settled into a new position, the top half of her blanket fell from her shoulders and pooled on her lap.

He could see the rise and fall of her chest better now. The V-neck collar gave a tantalizing view of creamy skin and lace.

The fabric of her shirt stretched across her breasts. The cool cabin temperature beaded her nipples.

Niko covered her with the blanket and tucked the edge around her shoulders.

“Sir,” Jovan said, standing in the aisle.

Niko jerked his hands away from Isabel, feeling as if the palace’s renowned pastry chef had caught him sneaking a
tulumbe
from a batch soaking in syrup overnight.

“It is late.” Jovan handed him a blanket. “There is nothing more to be done until we arrive in Vernonia. Please rest, sir.”

Niko knew sleep was futile, but he placed the blanket on his lap. Jovan was only trying to do his job. “The shopping arrangements…”

“Have been taken care of, sir. Princess Julianna has offered her assistance and expertise.”

The future wife helping the soon-to-be former one? The thought of the two women, so very different, made Niko’s temples throb. “That will be…interesting.”

“Princess Julianna’s sense of duty is matched only by your own,” Jovan said. “She simply wants to help you, sir.”

Niko only hoped Isabel accepted the help. That independent streak of hers might get in the way. “Julianna will make a fine queen.”

Jovan nodded. “She will also be an excellent role model for Princess Isabel to emulate, sir.”

“Yes.” Niko glanced at Isabel to see if she was still asleep. He lowered his voice. “She will need all the help she can get.”

Jovan smiled at the sleeping woman. “Princess Isabel is not what I expected, but she has…spirit. She puts on no airs. Plays no games.”

“She is different and has a certain down-to-earth charm,” Niko agreed. “In time she could become a role model herself.”

Jovan’s brows furrowed. “I do not think she intends to stay long enough for that to happen, sir.”

“Once Isabel sees all Vernonia has to offer, she will want to stay. We can have her things shipped over.”

“You sound certain, sir.”

“I am,” Niko stated. “You saw the hovel she calls home. Her life in the United States leaves much to be desired.”

“She doesn’t seem to mind that life, sir,” Jovan said. “And with her inheritance…”

“Perhaps she does not know any better.”

Niko’s gaze returned to Isabel’s face. Her full lips still appeared to be smiling. He wouldn’t mind a taste of them. A kiss.

No. He couldn’t allow himself to go there, even if he was…tempted.

He focused his attention on his aide. “Staying in Vernonia is best for Isabel.”

Just as Julianna was best for Vernonia, thus best for him.

“I wonder what Princess Isabel will have to say about that, sir,” Jovan said.

“She may not have an Ivy League education, but she is intelligent. It won’t take her long to realize where her future lies.”

“If she disagrees, I suppose we can finally make use of the tower, sir,” Jovan joked.

Niko laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time around my father.”

 

 

“Isabel.”

A man was calling Izzy’s name, but she didn’t open her eyes. Her alarm clock hadn’t buzzed yet. That meant this must still be part of her dream, an odd mix of fairy tale and nightmare with a brooding, handsome prince holding her captive in a tower.

“Isabel,” the man said again.

She liked the way the three syllables rolled off his tongue. I-sa-bel. She snuggled against the pillow, wanting more sleep and more of him.

The bed lurched, as if she were riding on a flying carpet that had come to a sudden stop.

“Welcome to Vernonia,” the male voice continued.

Where?
And then she realized.

Izzy wasn’t in bed dreaming. She forced her heavy eyelids open. Bright sunlight streamed through the window. She blinked. The plane had not only landed, but also parked. A small turboprop taxied by.

Every single one of her muscles tensed. Yesterday had been real. The box. Her parents. The prince.

She clutched the armrests.

“Good morning, Isabel,” Niko said from the seat next to her.

Izzy saw nothing good about this morning. She was tired, surrounded by strangers and far away from home. She turned toward Niko to tell him as much, but her mouth went dry at the sight of him.

Hello, Prince Hottie. Heat pulsed through her veins.

The stubble on Niko’s face made him look sexier, dangerous. Especially with his scar. A real bad boy. His clothes remained unwrinkled, as if he’d just stepped away from a photo shoot, not spent the night flying across an ocean and a continent.

“You didn’t eat much dinner last night,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

She wouldn’t mind a bite of him.

Strike that. A serving of prince sunny side up wasn’t on the menu this morning. Or any morning, Izzy reminded herself. This wasn’t just some guy. He was her husband. At least for another couple of days until the High Court was back in session.

Izzy toyed with the edge of the blanket covering her lap. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“I will have a meal delivered to your room in case you are hungry later.”

Room service? She wiggled her toes with anticipation. She’d never stayed at a nice hotel that offered room service. Maybe this trip would have some bright spots. “Thanks, but please don’t go to any trouble. I can order my own food.”

“It is no trouble,” he said.

But it was for her. “I prefer to do things myself.”

“Luka already came by with the warm towels,” Niko continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If you would like one—”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

Tired, but good. Izzy yawned, hoping she wasn’t breaking some princess protocol. She needed more sleep. A shower wouldn’t hurt. Once she arrived at the hotel…

“Ready to see your homeland?” Niko asked.

Vernonia might be her place of birth, but she would never call it her homeland. “I suppose I can’t stay on the plane all day.”

“You could.”

“Really?”

“You’re a princess,” he said, as if she knew all the rules about being royalty. “But you might get bored.”

“I don’t do well being bored.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

She stood and placed the shoulder strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

“The crew will carry your backpack,” Niko said.

“I don’t mind.”

“The crew does. They consider it an honor to serve you.”

“I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. My wallet and ID are in it.”

“It looks strange for a princess to be hauling around a backpack.”

“It’s my purse,” she countered. “Besides I don’t care what other people think of me.”

A muscle flicked at his jaw. “You’ve made that quite obvious.”

Niko pressed his lips together. The same way he’d done in Charlotte. He wasn’t happy with her. He’d probably better get used to it for as long as she was in town.

“Just so you know,” she said. “It bugs me when people try to tell me what I can or can’t do.”

She walked down the aisle before he could say anything else to annoy her.

The other passengers, who had been introduced by job titles, not names during the flight, had already deplaned. The flight crew, including the pilots, stood in a line at the front of the plane. Izzy thanked them and exited.

At the top of the portable staircase, she took a deep breath. The crisp air refreshed her.

The airport wasn’t as large as the one in Charlotte and seemed to be built on a plateau. Everything from the control tower to the runways looked brand-new. Beyond the runways the flat landscape gave way to foothills and rocky mountains beyond that.

Niko joined her on the landing. He motioned to a black limousine at the bottom of the stairs. “Our chariot awaits.”

Attached to the front of the car were two small blue and white flags with yellow emblems in the center. They fluttered in the cool breeze. Uniformed guards with large guns stood nearby. A man in a black suit unloaded the luggage from a cart. He carefully placed her battered duffel bag into the trunk as if it contained fragile Fabergé eggs, not thrift store bargain buys.

Feelings of inadequacy swept through her. Izzy was completely out of her league here. She clutched the metal hand-rail like a lifeline.

Niko extended his arm. “I’m only offering because you must be tired.”

His gesture of chivalry brought tears to her eyes. Uncle Frank used to do the same thing before escorting her across the street or down a parking lot staircase. Izzy wiped her eyes with her hand.

Boy, she must really be jet-lagged to get so sentimental. But Niko was right. Her legs were stiff from the flight. Her shoes fit tighter, making her wonder if her feet had swollen. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t feeling more tired by the minute.

Falling down the stairs was a distinct possibility in her current condition and would not be a good start to her visit to Vernonia. Forget making a faux pas. The stage was set for an epic fail. She couldn’t let that happen.

Better safe than sorry. Izzy wrapped her arm around Niko’s. “Thanks.”

Together, they descended the stairs. He went slowly, shortening his long stride. For her sake, Izzy realized. Her thoughts about him being a knight in shining armor weren’t too far off. Still she wasn’t comfortable needing his assistance. She’d been standing on her own two feet for the last five years, ever since Uncle Frank died. Leaning on someone else felt odd and unnatural, even if it was only for the length of the portable staircase.

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