Grimly, he bid his father goodbye and let James drive him back to his Aventador still parked at the coast guard headquarters. His entire life could be summed up in one phrase—dual-edged sword. No matter which way it was wielded, he’d be cut. He would be a man and a prince until the day he died, and it seemed fated that he could never satisfy both sides simultaneously.
Yet he held on to a slim thread of hope this matchmaker might change things for him.
* * *
Juliet Villere did not understand the American fascination with small talk. It was boring.
The packed ballroom wasn’t her preferred scene anyway, but coupled with a strong desire to avoid one more conversation about the ridiculous game confused Americans called football, the wall had become her friend. It warmed her bare back nicely and provided a great shield from the eyes she’d felt burning into her exposed flesh.
Why hadn’t someone told her that a makeover didn’t magically transform your insides? All the makeup and fancy clothes in the world couldn’t convert Juliet into someone who liked lipstick. Or parties.
But she owed Elise Arundel and her matchmaking-slash-makeover services a huge debt for taking her in when she’d fled Delamer in search of some magic to heal the continual pain of Finn’s betrayal. That was the only reason she’d agreed to attend this glittery event full of Elise’s clients.
Maybe Elise wouldn’t notice if Juliet ducked out the side entrance and walked back to the matchmaker’s house in the Dallas district called Uptown, where Juliet was staying until Elise found her an American husband. It was only a couple of miles, and she’d practiced walking in these horribly uncomfortable heels enough times that her leg muscles were used to the strain.
Then she caught sight of Elise heading in Juliet’s direction, a determined look on her mentor’s face.
Too late.
“Having a good time?” Elise asked, her dark page boy swinging in time to the upbeat song floating above the crowd.
“Fantastic.”
The sarcasm clearly wasn’t lost on Elise, who smiled. “It’s good for you to be in social settings, dressed to kill. I invited you to this mixer so you could practice mingling. Hugging the wall won’t accomplish that.”
The reminder tightened Juliet’s stomach, and she resituated the waistline of the form-fitting green dress her new friend Dannie Reynolds had helped select.
“I have nothing good to say about football.” One thing was clear—the American husband she’d asked Elise to match her with would watch it. Therefore, Juliet would likely become well versed in the fine art of faking interest. “So I’m acquainting myself with the benefits of solitude.”
Elise laughed. “Dance with someone. Then you don’t have to talk.”
Juliet shook her head. She’d never danced with anyone other than Finn, and she didn’t want to break that streak tonight.
Finn.
Pain, sharp and swift, cramped her stomach. Crossing the Atlantic hadn’t dimmed his hold over her one bit.
He’d shredded her soul over a year ago. Shouldn’t she be finished healing by now? She wanted desperately to get to that place where he was just some guy she used to date, one she recalled fondly yet distantly.
But the announcement of his upcoming engagement had cut deeply enough to drive her from Delamer all the way to Dallas, Texas. Thank God she’d stumbled over that EA International ad in the back of a fashion magazine she’d thumbed through at the dentist’s office back home—it had given her a place to go.
“I don’t see the point in dancing with one of these guys.”
As she didn’t see the point in having fake nails or painted lips. But it wasn’t her place to argue with the formula Elise used in her matchmaking service.
“None of them will be my match,” she continued. “And besides, they’ve all got sports on the brain. Does scoring more points feed hungry children? Right any wrongs? No. It’s stupid.”
Juliet started to make a face and remembered she couldn’t do that anymore. Actually, she wasn’t supposed to be so outspoken either. Her American husband would want a refined wife with the ability to mingle with the upper crust. Not a woman who had little use for propriety and fluff. Or the Dallas Cowboys.
How in the world was she going to pretend that much for the rest of her life?
The same way she was going to pretend her heart hadn’t broken when she’d lost the man she’d loved, her sweet little brother and her life in Delamer.
Anything was manageable if it matched her with a husband who could keep her in the States, and save her from having to watch Finn marry someone else.
With a laugh, Elise shook her head. “No, no. Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel. How about if I save you from further suspense and tell you I have your match?”
Juliet’s heart stuttered to a stop. This was it. The reason she’d come to America.
What would her future husband be like? Did he enjoy swimming and sailing and could she ask him to take her on trips to the beach? Would he be okay with her family coming to visit occasionally? Did he have a nice smile and laugh a lot?
Most important, would she be able to develop feelings for him that would fill the Finn-shaped hole inside?
Even though Elise guaranteed a love match, replacing Finn was probably too much to hope for.
Contentment would be enough. It had to be.
She swallowed the sudden burn in her throat. “That didn’t take long. I only finished your questions yesterday.”
Shrugging, Elise turned to face the ballroom, her shoulder bumping Juliet’s companionably. “Sometimes when I load the profile, I don’t get a match against someone already in the system and then we have to wait until new clients are entered. Yours came back immediately.”
Juliet wanted to ask for the name. And at the same time, she wanted to dive under the buffet table.
What was she doing here? This man in Elise’s system expected a certain kind of woman, one who could host his parties and mingle with his friends, smiling through boring stories of business mergers and tax breaks. And football. That was so not her.
She wanted to go home.
Then she thought about living in Delamer day in and day out and how often she saw Finn’s helicopter beating through the broad blue sky. Or how she’d stumbled over another photograph of him cutting the ribbon at the new primary school—that picture would never die.
A little girl who would attend the school had sneaked up and wrapped her arms around his thigh just before he cut the ribbon. Finn leaned down to kiss her cheek and presto. Instant immortalization via the hundreds of camera phones and paparazzi lenses in the audience.
The pictorial reminder of the prince’s sweet and charming nature stabbed her in the stomach every time. He was such a good guy, with a sense of honor she’d once loved—until realizing it was a front for his stubborn refusal to see how much he’d hurt her by taking his father’s side. There was no reasoning with Finn, and that trumped all his good qualities.
In Delamer, there were constant reminders of the void her brother Bernard’s death had created.
Any husband was better than that.
“What happens if I don’t like the man your computer picked?” Juliet asked, though surely Elise’s system had captured her exact specifications.
“There are no absolutes. If you don’t like him, we’ll find someone else, though it might take a while. However...” Elise hesitated. “I’d like you to keep an open mind about the possibilities. This man is perfect for you. I’ve