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Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince. Melissa McCloneЧитать онлайн книгу.

Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince: Expecting Royal Twins! / To Dance with a Prince - Melissa  McClone


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in Vernonia that long.”

      “You must convince her to stay,” Julianna insisted.

      “You haven’t met her.”

      “It doesn’t matter,” Julianna countered. “Isabel has a duty to fulfill here in Vernonia.”

      “I understand what you are saying, but Isabel is very—” he searched for a somewhat complimentary adjective “—independent. I don’t think she is the type to fulfill her duty.”

      “She needs training,” Julianna said. “I can help her.”

      “You don’t know what you’re offering to take on.”

      “Come now, you make her sound like an ogre.”

      “Not an ogre,” he admitted. “Ornery.”

      “I have four younger brothers. I can handle ornery.”

      “See how shopping goes, then you can decide if you want to continue helping her or not.”

      “I can’t wait to see what you think of her with a brand-new wardrobe complete with coordinating accessories, shoes and makeup.”

      Niko’s shoulders tensed. No way would Isabel agree to a total makeover. “Just get her into a dress by dinnertime, and I’ll be much obliged.”

      “Obliged enough for another sail tomorrow?” Julianna challenged.

      The jaunt to America had wreaked havoc with his schedule. Niko had little to no free time right now. He appreciated Julianna’s help because that meant he didn’t have to deal with Isabel himself. The woman didn’t need only a fashion makeover, she needed a complete personality transplant. Niko doubted even the capable Aliestle princess could do much with Isabel by dinnertime. But if Julianna was willing to try.

      “If you can make her presentable to my parents, I’ll gladly find the time to go sailing with you tomorrow.”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      IZZY didn’t want to like it here. She wasn’t going to fit in no matter what she did. The less attached she got to anyone or anything during her short visit the better. But right this minute she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but Vernonia.

      Nothing could beat floating on this cloud.

      Okay, she was lying on a four-poster queen-size bed, but the mattress was truly fit for a king. Or a princess. No lumps, bumps or peas to be found. The feather pillow conformed to the shape of her head and supported it exactly right. The luxurious sheets cocooned her. She sighed in delight.

      Best nap ever.

      She never knew a bed could be so comfortable or sheets could feel so soft.

      Izzy kept her eyes closed, wanting to linger on the cloud a little longer. But not too long. She didn’t want to throw her body clock any more as Niko had mentioned earlier.

      Niko.

      He hadn’t looked happy when he’d handed her off to a maid named Mare. Izzy hadn’t been as polite as she could have been. Being tired had contributed, but she didn’t like being bossed around. She wasn’t one of Niko’s subjects. He seemed to forget she was an American. He couldn’t tell her what to do.

      The image of his ruggedly handsome face formed in her mind. Those to-die-for blue-green eyes. That dark mane of hair. His killer…

      What was she doing thinking about him? Izzy opened her eyes.

      Darkness filled the room. That was weird. Some natural light had been filtering in through the large windows when she lay down.

      Oh, no. Panic spurted through her. Had she slept too long?

      Bolting upright, she glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. Only two and a half hours had passed.

      Relief washed over her. But why was the room so dark?

      She glanced around, allowing her eyes to adjust. Her gaze rested on the closed yellow damask drapes. They’d been open before she fell asleep.

      Izzy squirmed with uneasiness. She had lived alone for the last five years and wasn’t used to anyone being around when she slept. A good thing she wouldn’t be here long.

      She tossed back the covers and slid from the bed. Her bare feet sunk into a thick, colorful rug covering the hardwood floors.

      Talk about living large. The grandeur of the interior exceeded the castle’s fairy-tale exterior. She felt as if she were staying in a museum with antique furniture, famous paintings and exquisite tapestries. Everything looked so expensive she didn’t want to touch anything she could break.

      Inside the expansive bathroom, Izzy found her toiletry kit sitting on the gold-veined marble countertop. Someone must have removed it from her duffel bag. Having people do everything for you was really weird.

      A thick, plush white robe hung on a gold hook. She ran her fingertips over the soft fabric. The robe was nicer than any of the clothing she had brought with her. A good thing she was going shopping.

      Izzy brushed her teeth in the gold sink. Everything was gold, from the faucets to the gold seals on the pretty soap wrappers. Even the fluffy white towels had gold embroidery on the bottom portion. Uncle Frank would have gotten a kick out of this big gold bathroom.

      She felt a familiar tug at her heart.

      Then again, he hadn’t been a simple car mechanic. He would have been used to castles and bathrooms like this. Living in a motor home had been the opposite extreme. Had he been hiding her? Or maybe Uncle Frank had wanted to give her as normal a life as possible, not one with gold sinks. Izzy believed he’d kept the past a secret and raised her the way he did for a reason.

      Aleksander and Evangaline Zvonimir might have been her birth parents, but Frank Miroslav had been Izzy’s father. He had wiped her tears when she hurt herself, boosted her self-confidence when the kids at school teased her for being different, and taught her everything she knew and loved about cars. He’d saved her life by leaving his own family to raise her in another country. She was only beginning to comprehend what he’d given up for her. It was too late to say thank-you, but Izzy wanted to make it up to him somehow. Maybe she could find his relatives and tell them how wonderful he’d been to her.

      Emotion clogged her throat. She shook it off. The way she’d learned to do these last five years.

      A shower would make her feel better. She turned on the water. As she undressed, steam filled the bathroom. She stepped into the large shower.

      Hot water pulsed down on her as if she were standing in a heated waterfall. She nearly sighed at the decadence of the oversize showerhead.

      Okay, Izzy grinned, comfy beds and amazing showers were definitely perks to being a princess. She could even forgive the invasion of privacy while she slept. A shower like this could make her forgive and forget most everything.

      Normally she finished showering in a couple of minutes due to the size of the RV’s tiny water heater. This time, Izzy stayed in until her fingertips shriveled like raisins.

      Best shower ever.

      She turned off the water, dried off with a towel, slipped into the luxurious robe and combed her hair.

      Out in the bedroom, she padded to her duffel bag. It wasn’t where she’d left it.

      Izzy looked around. Her backpack sat on the table, but her duffel bag was nowhere to be seen. That was odd. The purple would be hard to miss against the yellow and gold decor.

      Maybe whoever placed her toiletry bag in the bathroom had put the duffel bag away. Izzy checked inside the gilded armoire. Empty hangers hung on the rack. She slid out the two drawers. No bag or clothing. She checked under the bed. Nothing there, either.

      This wasn’t good. She wanted to get dressed.

      Izzy had the clothes she’d worn on the flight, but she didn’t


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