Kathryn Jensen – I Married A Prince (страница 1)
“You Make A Breathtaking Princess,” Jacob Said. Letter to Reader Title Page Dedication About the Author A Note To My Readers Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Epilogue Copyright
“You Make A Breathtaking Princess,” Jacob Said.
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
Allison’s glance snapped up defiantly to meet his. “You wanted me to marry you for a purpose, to clear the way for your future. I’m still just a small-town librarian who’s playing a role in a little melodrama you and your advisers have cooked up.”
“You’re far more than that.”
He had to remind himself that he couldn’t tell her everything—not now, not until he’d worked out every complex detail.
In a way, he realized he was being selfish again—but this time he felt no guilt. He was determined to get what he wanted, and he was willing to risk everything—his father’s approval, his countrymen’s love, Allison’s treasured independence...perhaps even more.
Dear Reader,
Happy Holidays to all of you from the staff of Silhouette Desire! Our celebration of Desire’s fifteenth anniversary continues, and to kick off this holiday season, we have a wonderful new book from Dixie Browning called Look What the Stork Brought. Dixie, who is truly a Desire star, has written over sixty titles for Silhouette.
Next up, The Surprise Christmas Bride by Maureen Child. If you like stories chock-full of love and laughter, this is the book for you. And Anne Eames continues her MONTANA MALONES miniseries with The Best Little Joeville Christmas.
The month is completed with more Christmas treats:
A Husband in Her Stocking by Christine Pacheco;
I Married a Prince by Kathryn Jensen and Santa Cowboy by Barbara McMahon.
I hope you all enjoy your holidays, and hope that Silhouette Desire will add to the warmth of the season. So enjoy the very best in romance from Desire!
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
I Married A Prince
Kathryn Jensen
To Lucia Macro and Cristine Grace, my editors, who love prince stories as much as I do...and gave me a chance to tell this one. My deepest thanks for your wise guidance and priceless suggestions.
KATHRYN JENSEN has written many novels for young readers as well as for adults. She speed walks, works out with weights and enjoys ballroom dancing for exercise, stress reduction and pleasure. Her children are now grown. She lives in Maryland with her husband, Bill, and her writing companion—Sunny, a lovable terrier-mix adopted from a shelter.
Having worked as a hospital switchboard operator, department store sales associate, bank clerk and elementary school teacher, she now splits her days between writing her own books and teaching fiction writing at two local colleges and through a correspondence course. She enjoys helping new writers get a start and speaks “at the drop of a hat” at writers’ conferences, libraries and schools across the country.
A Note To My Readers
Although the country of Elbia, her citizens and Prince Jacob are products of my fantasy-loving imagination, real monarchies, castles and handsome princes do exist in our modern world. Liechtenstein’s Hereditary Prince Alois is a tennis buff and resides in beautiful Vaduz Castle. Monaco’s Crown Prince Albert—who is into judo, fencing and theater—has a reputation as a charming playboy. Luxembourg looks to His Royal Highness Prince Henri, an avid sailor and music lover, for guidance into the next century. He lives in the breathtaking Château of Fischbach. Denmark’s Crown Prince Frederik, passionate about skiing and driving fast cars, attended Harvard University in the U.S. The Netherlands, Spain, Norway, Belgium and Sweden also boast dashing royals. They all possess vast fortunes to share with the lucky women who steal their hearts.
One
Time was running out, and Jacob knew it.
In all the world, there was precious little his money couldn’t buy. Happiness itself had seemed within his purchasing power. He’d used the von Austerand fortune for twenty-nine years to satisfy his whims, lusts, real and imagined needs. Now the fun was coming to an end.
“Damn!” he growled, crumpling the message and letting it fall from his fist into the blue-gray water lapping the hull of the sleek motor yacht. A brilliant orange September sun was already halfway up a cloudless sky. It beamed down on the snug cove nestled in the Connecticut shoreline, where the Queen Elise had anchored the night before.
“Bad news, Your Royal Highness?” a voice colored by a deep British accent asked from behind him.
“The worst, Thomas. The worst.”
“The king? He’s had another stroke, has he?”
Jacob swung around to face his bodyguard, who doubled as chauffeur, private secretary and self-proclaimed social adviser. Thomas was also his closest—some claimed only—true friend. Anger frothed up inside Jacob. The heat generated by his turbulent mood made his head hurt far worse than the hangover he’d woken with should have.
“My father is in better health than most of his cabinet—better than I am, at this moment.” He gingerly pressed the heel of one hand to his forehead, as if to hold its contents securely in place.
“I’ve prepared a pitcher of Bloody Marys in the galley, Your Royal Highness. Shall I bring it?”
“Knock off the ‘Your Highness’ crap,” Jacob snapped. “You only do that when some reporter is around to hear, or when you’re irritated with me.”
“As you wish, Sir,” Thomas said with a shadow of a smile. “Shall I bring the beverage?”
“No.” Jacob shook his head, then groaned at the wave of dizziness the motion produced. “No, it will wear off soon enough. Black coffee would be better.”
When Thomas returned with a steaming mug of fragrant dark java, Jacob took a quick sip, then three more...and the world seemed to steady itself. Somewhat. They stood for a while as crew members in white T-shirts and canvas pants bustled around them, then finally disappeared below the polished decks of the Queen Elise. The luxurious two-hundred-foot, ocean-going yacht had been a present from his father for his sixteenth birthday. Whenever Jacob could get away for a while, it was his chosen home. But this morning it seemed little comfort to him.
“You deserve that hangover after last night,” Thomas commented dryly, as he stood at the rail, smoking a thick black cigar.
“I suppose.” Jacob sighed. Aside from his father and Frederik—the old man’s chief adviser, who had been with the family since before Jacob’s birth—Thomas was the only person who wasn’t intimidated by Jacob’s money and title. Thomas never pulled punches. And his father never gave up when he wanted something.
What the King of Elbia now wanted...no, demanded, was that his only son marry by Christmas, only months away now. Just because he, Karl von Austerand, had been forced to wed before his thirtieth year and his father before him...and his grandfather before that. For over five hundred years the crown princes of Elbia, a tiny European country even smaller than Liechtenstein, had dutifully followed the laws of succession. Now it was Jacob’s turn, and he viewed the prospect of a political marriage as medieval idiocy, a trap he had always somehow meant to elude. But now the time had come...and there seemed no way out that wouldn’t cost him his inheritance.
“He’s sticking to his guns, Thomas,” Jacob muttered, gripping the polished brass railing until his knuckles ached. He leaned over the yacht’s side to watch white-tipped swells lap the hull. “He says I’ve had plenty of time to choose a suitable wife. That—” he gestured to where the sheet of paper had submerged “—was his latest list of young ladies he deems equal to the task of becoming Elbia’s next queen.”
Thomas stepped to the young prince’s side. “You knew this day would come. This is no surprise.”
“Yes. But it always seemed so far away...before now.”
“As the sole heir to the throne of Elbia, you must provide an heir,” Thomas said softly. “If the von Austerand line were to end...your country would perish.” Thomas had always been and would always be an Englishman, but he nevertheless acted protective of his employer’s homeland... just as he felt protective of his employer.
Jacob raked a hand through his glistening black hair and glared at the beach. He knew what Thomas said was true. He’d been tormented for most of his adult years by guilt at the thought, but his natural willfulness fought tradition.
A pearly gray-and-white seagull swooped from the sky and soared above them on a warm air current, rising effortlessly with it. Jacob’s thoughts wheeled with the bird. He had ordered the yacht to anchor late the previous night in Long Island Sound, after dropping off the last of his guests this side of New York City. Something had drawn him back to this place. Something had made him want to come here again, if only to be alone for a little while and watch the sun rise from this familiar curve of sand and rocks called Nanticoke Bay.