Janessa nodded. “I need to take some time tomorrow to acquaint myself with the chateau, and I would like to meet with the caterers early next week.”
“I will make the appointment with the caterers,” Martino insisted in a superior tone. “This evening, you will dine with Prince Garrett and his guests, and then tomorrow afternoon you will accompany His Highness into Bellamo.”
Refusing to be affected by Martino’s cold tone, Janessa slid a pocket organizer from her purse, along with a pen. “What time is dinner this evening?”
“Seven o’clock,” Martino told her.
“I’ll need a copy of the guest list for tonight.” Janessa let her voice take on an edge of authority.
“I will bring that up to you shortly. Now, if you would like me to show you up to your rooms, Prince Garrett should be arriving within the hour.”
Rooms? Janessa thought, but all she said was, “Thank you.” Determined to keep an open mind, Janessa followed Martino up the curving staircase, hoping that he would warm up to working with her before too much time passed. Her next thought was that she shouldn’t expect everyone to like her. Even her own siblings reminded her often enough of her flaws—“bossy” being at the top of their list.
A few minutes later, Janessa stepped out onto her balcony and breathed in the sea air. The view was incredible, almost too perfect to be real. To the right, a swimming pool was nestled among Mediterranean palm trees and climbing roses, and to the left, the expansive gardens swept along the back of the chateau all the way to the seawall that separated the chateau from the beach just beyond.
A short flight of stairs led to the beach from the swimming pool, and another flight of stairs mirrored it, descending from the gardens. The Mediterranean Sea glistened beneath the midday sun, and a few boats were visible on the water. She leaned on the railing, wondering if she had ever seen such perfection before. She had always imagined that the coastal regions of Italy would look something like this, but on her mission she had never served near the water.
The sitting room behind her was nearly as large as her entire apartment in Caracas, and her bags had already been delivered and were currently on the floor in her bedroom. Yes, Martino really had meant rooms, plural. She was afraid she would get spoiled if she stayed here very long.
Her mind turned to the man she would soon call her fiancé. She had read his bio several times over the past few days, trying to reconcile what was on paper with the man she had met so briefly in Caracas. He had graduated college when he was twenty-one and then served for four years in the Navy. She had been surprised to find that his military training had been rather intensive and that he had spent nearly two years working with naval intelligence. After his time in the service, Garrett had spent a year working with his father before attending law school at George Washington University in Washington, D.C.
Janessa smiled as she thought of the irony of it all. Garrett had just spent the past three years in her country while she had spent most of that time living outside of it. Still, Prince Garrett had popped up in the newspapers and glossies with regularity, with a different woman on his arm almost every time. The last thing she recalled seeing about him was his breakup with some actress, though she couldn’t remember ever actually seeing them photographed together. She had meant to ask him about it the last time he called but had never found the opening.
When a knock came at the door, Janessa stayed where she was. “Come in.” She turned, expecting to see Martino in her open doorway. Instead, Prince Garrett stepped through.
For a moment they stared at each other. Reminding herself to follow Meridian protocol, Janessa dipped into a curtsey. A strand of her thick, red hair caught in the breeze. Self-consciously, she brushed it out of her face and moved from the balcony into
“I will make the appointment with the caterers,” Martino insisted in a superior tone. “This evening, you will dine with Prince Garrett and his guests, and then tomorrow afternoon you will accompany His Highness into Bellamo.”
Refusing to be affected by Martino’s cold tone, Janessa slid a pocket organizer from her purse, along with a pen. “What time is dinner this evening?”
“Seven o’clock,” Martino told her.
“I’ll need a copy of the guest list for tonight.” Janessa let her voice take on an edge of authority.
“I will bring that up to you shortly. Now, if you would like me to show you up to your rooms, Prince Garrett should be arriving within the hour.”
Rooms? Janessa thought, but all she said was, “Thank you.” Determined to keep an open mind, Janessa followed Martino up the curving staircase, hoping that he would warm up to working with her before too much time passed. Her next thought was that she shouldn’t expect everyone to like her. Even her own siblings reminded her often enough of her flaws—“bossy” being at the top of their list.
A few minutes later, Janessa stepped out onto her balcony and breathed in the sea air. The view was incredible, almost too perfect to be real. To the right, a swimming pool was nestled among Mediterranean palm trees and climbing roses, and to the left, the expansive gardens swept along the back of the chateau all the way to the seawall that separated the chateau from the beach just beyond.
A short flight of stairs led to the beach from the swimming pool, and another flight of stairs mirrored it, descending from the gardens. The Mediterranean Sea glistened beneath the midday sun, and a few boats were visible on the water. She leaned on the railing, wondering if she had ever seen such perfection before. She had always imagined that the coastal regions of Italy would look something like this, but on her mission she had never served near the water.
The sitting room behind her was nearly as large as her entire apartment in Caracas, and her bags had already been delivered and were currently on the floor in her bedroom. Yes, Martino really had meant rooms, plural. She was afraid she would get spoiled if she stayed here very long.
Her mind turned to the man she would soon call her fiancé. She had read his bio several times over the past few days, trying to reconcile what was on paper with the man she had met so briefly in Caracas. He had graduated college when he was twenty-one and then served for four years in the Navy. She had been surprised to find that his military training had been rather intensive and that he had spent nearly two years working with naval intelligence. After his time in the service, Garrett had spent a year working with his father before attending law school at George Washington University in Washington, D.C.
Janessa smiled as she thought of the irony of it all. Garrett had just spent the past three years in her country while she had spent most of that time living outside of it. Still, Prince Garrett had popped up in the newspapers and glossies with regularity, with a different woman on his arm almost every time. The last thing she recalled seeing about him was his breakup with some actress, though she couldn’t remember ever actually seeing them photographed together. She had meant to ask him about it the last time he called but had never found the opening.
When a knock came at the door, Janessa stayed where she was. “Come in.” She turned, expecting to see Martino in her open doorway. Instead, Prince Garrett stepped through.
For a moment they stared at each other. Reminding herself to follow Meridian protocol, Janessa dipped into a curtsey. A strand of her thick, red hair caught in the breeze. Self-consciously, she brushed it out of her face and moved from the balcony into
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