HOW TO MARRY A PRINCESS by Christine Rimmer Page B

home at a little after six.
    Tomorrow he’ll be gone....
    She wanted to cry.
    It was too much. She couldn’t stand it anymore, that he would return to America and she might never see him again.
    She did the very thing she knew she shouldn’t do. She picked up the phone and called the Belle Époque. She asked for his room and they put her right through.
    He answered the phone on the second ring. “Yes?”
    “It’s Alice. Are you still leaving tomorrow?” Her voice came out husky and confident. She sounded like the bold woman Rhia insisted she actually was.
    “Alice. I’m surprised.” He sounded anything but bored. But he didn’t sound exactly happy, either.
    “You’re angry with me.”
    “Come on. I got the message when you ran away Friday night—and the other day in the stables when I came to ride. I got it loud and clear.”
    Her heart sank. “I’m sorry. I... Maybe I shouldn’t have called.”
    A silence. And then, with real feeling, “Don’t say that. I’m glad that you called.”
    “You are?”
    “Yeah.”
    She let out a sigh of pure relief. “So, then, are you leaving?”
    “Yes. Tomorrow.”
    “And tonight?” Her throat clutched. She coughed to clear it. “Are you busy tonight?”
    Another silence. For a moment she thought he’d hung up. But then he asked, “What game are you playing now, Alice?”
    “It’s not a game. I promise you.”
    “Frankly, it feels like a game, a game I’ll never win.”
    She tried for lightness. “Look at it this way—at least I’m not boring and predictable.”
    More dead air. And then at last he said, “I’m available. For you.”
    Well, all right. He definitely sounded like a man who wanted to see her again. Suddenly, she was floating on air. “I want to wear a long dress and diamonds. I want to play baccarat and eat at La Chanson.” La Chanson de la Mer was right on the water in the Triangle d’Or and arguably the best restaurant on the Riviera.
    “I’ll arrange everything. Whatever you want.”
    Her stomach had gone all fluttery. Her heart was racing. Her cheeks felt too warm. Sweet Lord, she was out of control.
    And it was fabulous. “Be in front of the casino, by the fountain,” she commanded. “Eight o’clock.”
    “I’ll be there.”
    * * *
    Noah was waiting right where she’d told him to be, dressed for evening, feeling way too damned anxious to see her again, when her limo pulled up a few feet away.
    The driver got out, hustled around and opened her door. She emerged in a strapless gold dress that clung to every sweet curve and had a slit up the skirt to above the knee. Her hair was pinned up loosely, bits of it escaping to curl at her nape.
    And she was on her own, as he’d hoped. No bodyguard. Damien had told him that the princely family only used bodyguards outside the principality. Good. He might actually get a chance to be alone with her.
    She saw him. A gorgeous, hopeful, glowing smile curved her lips. They stood there like a couple of lovesick teenagers, just looking at each other, as the driver got back behind the wheel and the long black car slid away.
    They both started moving at the same time. Three steps and he was with her, in front of her, looking down into those amazing blue-green eyes.
    Again, they just stared at each other. He said, “God. You’re so beautiful.”
    And she said, “You came. I was a little worried you wouldn’t.”
    “Are you kidding? Turn down a chance to spend an evening with you? Couldn’t do it.” Over her shoulder, he saw a man with a camera. “Someone’s taking our picture.”
    “Behave with dignity,” she said. “And ignore them. I’ll do my very best to follow your lead. Because, as we both know, dignity was never my strong suit.”
    “You are more than dignified enough,” he argued.
    She gave him her full-out, beautiful laugh. “Not true, but thanks for trying.”
    He wanted to kiss her, but not while some idiot was snapping pictures of them. “Dinner