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is best for Isabel.”

      Just as Julianna was best for Vernonia, thus best for him.

      “I wonder what Princess Isabel will have to say about that, sir,” Jovan said.

      “She may not have an Ivy League education, but she is intelligent. It won’t take her long to realize where her future lies.”

      “If she disagrees, I suppose we can finally make use of the tower, sir,” Jovan joked.

      Niko laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time around my father.”

      “Isabel.”

      A man was calling Izzy’s name, but she didn’t open her eyes. Her alarm clock hadn’t buzzed yet. That meant this must still be part of her dream, an odd mix of fairy tale and nightmare with a brooding, handsome prince holding her captive in a tower.

      “Isabel,” the man said again.

      She liked the way the three syllables rolled off his tongue. I-sa-bel. She snuggled against the pillow, wanting more sleep and more of him.

      The bed lurched, as if she were riding on a flying carpet that had come to a sudden stop.

      “Welcome to Vernonia,” the male voice continued.

      Where? And then she realized.

      Izzy wasn’t in bed dreaming. She forced her heavy eyelids open. Bright sunlight streamed through the window. She blinked. The plane had not only landed, but also parked. A small turboprop taxied by.

      Every single one of her muscles tensed. Yesterday had been real. The box. Her parents. The prince.

      She clutched the armrests.

      “Good morning, Isabel,” Niko said from the seat next to her.

      Izzy saw nothing good about this morning. She was tired, surrounded by strangers and far away from home. She turned toward Niko to tell him as much, but her mouth went dry at the sight of him.

      Hello, Prince Hottie. Heat pulsed through her veins.

      The stubble on Niko’s face made him look sexier, dangerous. Especially with his scar. A real bad boy. His clothes remained unwrinkled, as if he’d just stepped away from a photo shoot, not spent the night flying across an ocean and a continent.

      “You didn’t eat much dinner last night,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

      She wouldn’t mind a bite of him.

      Strike that. A serving of prince sunny side up wasn’t on the menu this morning. Or any morning, Izzy reminded herself. This wasn’t just some guy. He was her husband. At least for another couple of days until the High Court was back in session.

      Izzy toyed with the edge of the blanket covering her lap. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

      “I will have a meal delivered to your room in case you are hungry later.”

      Room service? She wiggled her toes with anticipation. She’d never stayed at a nice hotel that offered room service. Maybe this trip would have some bright spots. “Thanks, but please don’t go to any trouble. I can order my own food.”

      “It is no trouble,” he said.

      But it was for her. “I prefer to do things myself.”

      “Luka already came by with the warm towels,” Niko continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “If you would like one—”

      “No, thanks. I’m good.”

      Tired, but good. Izzy yawned, hoping she wasn’t breaking some princess protocol. She needed more sleep. A shower wouldn’t hurt. Once she arrived at the hotel …

      “Ready to see your homeland?” Niko asked.

      Vernonia might be her place of birth, but she would never call it her homeland. “I suppose I can’t stay on the plane all day.”

      “You could.”

      “Really?”

      “You’re a princess,” he said, as if she knew all the rules about being royalty. “But you might get bored.”

      “I don’t do well being bored.”

      “That doesn’t surprise me.”

      She stood and placed the shoulder strap of her backpack over her shoulder.

      “The crew will carry your backpack,” Niko said.

      “I don’t mind.”

      “The crew does. They consider it an honor to serve you.”

      “I’m, uh, not really comfortable with that. My wallet and ID are in it.”

      “It looks strange for a princess to be hauling around a backpack.”

      “It’s my purse,” she countered. “Besides I don’t care what other people think of me.”

      A muscle flicked at his jaw. “You’ve made that quite obvious.”

      Niko pressed his lips together. The same way he’d done in Charlotte. He wasn’t happy with her. He’d probably better get used to it for as long as she was in town.

      “Just so you know,” she said. “It bugs me when people try to tell me what I can or can’t do.”

      She walked down the aisle before he could say anything else to annoy her.

      The other passengers, who had been introduced by job titles, not names during the flight, had already deplaned. The flight crew, including the pilots, stood in a line at the front of the plane. Izzy thanked them and exited.

      At the top of the portable staircase, she took a deep breath. The crisp air refreshed her.

      The airport wasn’t as large as the one in Charlotte and seemed to be built on a plateau. Everything from the control tower to the runways looked brand-new. Beyond the runways the flat landscape gave way to foothills and rocky mountains beyond that.

      Niko joined her on the landing. He motioned to a black limousine at the bottom of the stairs. “Our chariot awaits.”

      Attached to the front of the car were two small blue and white flags with yellow emblems in the center. They fluttered in the cool breeze. Uniformed guards with large guns stood nearby. A man in a black suit unloaded the luggage from a cart. He carefully placed her battered duffel bag into the trunk as if it contained fragile Fabergé eggs, not thrift store bargain buys.

      Feelings of inadequacy swept through her. Izzy was completely out of her league here. She clutched the metal handrail like a lifeline.

      Niko extended his arm. “I’m only offering because you must be tired.”

      His gesture of chivalry brought tears to her eyes. Uncle Frank used to do the same thing before escorting her across the street or down a parking lot staircase. Izzy wiped her eyes with her hand.

      Boy, she must really be jet-lagged to get so sentimental. But Niko was right. Her legs were stiff from the flight. Her shoes fit tighter, making her wonder if her feet had swollen. She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t feeling more tired by the minute.

      Falling down the stairs was a distinct possibility in her current condition and would not be a good start to her visit to Vernonia. Forget making a faux pas. The stage was set for an epic fail. She couldn’t let that happen.

      Better safe than sorry. Izzy wrapped her arm around Niko’s. “Thanks.”

      Together, they descended the stairs. He went slowly, shortening his long stride. For her sake, Izzy realized. Her thoughts about him being a knight in shining armor weren’t too far off. Still she wasn’t comfortable needing his assistance. She’d been standing on her own two feet for the last five years, ever since Uncle Frank died. Leaning on someone else felt odd and unnatural, even if it was only for the length of the portable staircase.

      “You

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