How to Marry a Princess. Christine Rimmer

sea and the distant cry of a gull.

      Alice smoothed her hair and straightened the bodice of her strapless gown. “Sometimes I really disappoint myself.”

      “Is it possible you’re trying too hard to be good?” he asked in that lovely sexy rumble that had stirred her from the first.

      She shot him a scoffing glance. “More likely, I’m not trying hard enough.”

      He caught her hand. Before she could pull away, he pressed his wonderful lips to the back of it. His mouth was so warm, so deliciously soft compared to the rest of him. “You’re amazing. Just as you are. Why mess with a great thing?” His words were pure temptation. She wanted only to sigh and sway against him again, to kiss him some more, to give him a chance to flatter her endlessly. She wanted to let him kiss her and touch her until she forgot all the promises she’d made to herself about learning a little discipline, about keeping her actions under control.

      Instead, she said, “I would like my hand back, please.” He released her. She rose and brushed out her taffeta skirt. “Good night. Please don’t follow me.” She turned for the trail, glancing back only once before she ducked between the hedges.

      He hadn’t moved. He sat facing the sea, staring out at the moon.

      * * *

      Alice collected her bag and wrap from the attendant at the side entrance and called for her driver.

      Twenty minutes after she’d left Noah staring out to sea, the driver was holding the limo door for her. She slipped into the plush embrace of the black leather seat.

      At home she had another bath. A long one, to relax.

      But she didn’t relax. She lay there amid the lily-scented bubbles and tried not to feel like a complete jerk.

      Noah had really stepped up. He’d made an honest, forthright apology for misleading her at the stables. And then he’d gone about being a perfect gentleman. He’d also been open and honest with her about his life, his past. About the tensions between him and his little sister.

      He had not put a move on her. She’d made sure that he wouldn’t, by going on and on about how from now on she planned to look before she leaped.

      After which she had grabbed him and kissed him for all she was worth.

      Seriously, now. She was hopeless. She needed a keeper, someone to follow her around and make sure she behaved herself. Twenty-five years old and she couldn’t stop acting like an impulsive, greedy child.

      Her bath grew cold. She only grew more tense, more annoyed with herself.

      Finally, she got out and dried off and put on a robe. It was after two in the morning. Time for bed.

      But she couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking how Noah had said he had no problem with her looking him up on the internet.

      Finally, she threw back the covers, grabbed her laptop and snooped around for a while.

      She learned that everything he’d told her that night—and in the stables, for that matter—was the truth. He was quite a guy, really, to have come from a run-down rented bungalow in the roughest part of Los Angeles without a penny to his name and built a real-estate empire before he was thirty. When he was twenty-eight, he’d been one of Forbes’ thirty top entrepreneurs under thirty. Two years ago he’d been a People magazine pick for one of America’s ten most eligible bachelors. His Santa Barbara–area estate had been profiled in House & Garden.

      There were several pages of images. Some of them showed him with Lucy, who had a sweet, friendly smile and looked very young. But most of them were of him with a gorgeous woman at his side—a lot of different gorgeous women. He’d never been linked to any one woman for any length of time.

      The endless series of beautiful girlfriends reminded her of all the reasons she wouldn’t be getting involved with him. The last thing she needed was to fall for a rich player who would trade her in for a newer model at the first opportunity.

      It was after four when she finally fell asleep. She woke at noon, ate a quick breakfast, put on her riding clothes and went to the stables.

      Noah wasn’t there. Excellent. With a little luck, she would get through the last five days of his Montedoran visit without running into him again.

      * * *

      Sunday morning, Alice kept her promise to Max and went to breakfast at the palace. Everyone seemed happy to see her.

      Her mother made a special effort to ask her how the plans were coming along for next year’s Grand Champions Tour. Alice gave her a quick report and her mother said how pleased they all were with her work. She’d sold two mares, a stallion and a gelding in the past month. The money helped support her breeding program, but a good chunk of it went to important causes. Her mother praised her contribution to the lives of all Montedorans.

      Alice basked in the approval. She knew what it meant. Her mother was getting past her disappointment over her antics in Glasgow.

      At the table, she ended up next to Damien. He threw an arm across her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Allie. You’re looking splendid, as always.”

      “Flatterer.”

      Dami shrugged and got to work on his eggs Benedict. He looked a little tired, she thought. But then, he often did. He was quite the globe-trotter. Most people thought he was all about beautiful women and the good life—and he was. But he also held a degree in mechanical engineering and design. He was a talented artist, too. And beyond all that, he loved putting together a profitable business deal almost as much as their second-born brother, Rule. And then there were the charities he worked hard to support.

      No wonder he looked as though he needed a long nap.

      She was tempted to ply him with questions about Noah. But what was the point? She’d already decided that she and Noah weren’t going to be happening, so it didn’t matter what Dami might have to tell her about him.

      Dami sipped espresso. When he set down the demitasse, he turned to her again and said softly, “I heard you danced more than one dance with Noah Cordell last Friday. After which you went walking in the garden with him....”

      Well, all right, then. Apparently, she was going to hear about Noah after all, whether she wanted to or not. “I met him in the stables. He was there Wednesday and Thursday mornings, early. He said you had introduced him to Gilbert.”

      “That’s right.”

      “We...chatted.”

      “And danced,” he repeated, annoyingly patient. “And walked in the garden.”

      “Yes, Dami. We did.”

      “You like him.” It wasn’t a question. His expression was unreadable.

      She answered truthfully. “I do. He’s intelligent, fun and a good dancer, as well.”

      “He’s worse with women than I am.”

      “But you’re not so bad—lately. I mean, what about Vesuvia?”