Twice a Princess. Susan MeierЧитать онлайн книгу.
her fence-mending for when she got home. “Is my father around?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Great. May I speak with him, please?”
“Yes, Mum.”
She waited only two seconds before her father was on the line.
“Merry! My God! Where the hell have you been? Are you okay? The only contact we’ve had were those notes you sent through Lissa!” he said, referring to the godmother who had cursed her. “We understood you wanted an American education, but did you really need to go to school disguised as a commoner?”
Merry swallowed a giggle. She’d wondered how Lissa had explained the curse to her father. Since it was all over now, and because she had learned valuable lessons, she wouldn’t argue Lissa’s convenient story and said simply, “Yes. My classes are done now.”
“I’ll send a plane.”
“No, Dad, I can’t come home today.” She needed to find a real replacement for herself to fulfill her responsibility to the resort, but more than that she wanted her reward time with Alexander. “I won’t be home for two weeks.”
“Two weeks?”
“Yes,” she said, strolling away from her desk and walking to the mirror in her private powder room where she smiled contentedly at her reflection. “I want a few weeks to adjust to being myself.”
“Adjust to being yourself?”
Merry grimaced at her slip, but she also realized that she’d just revealed a tidbit of information about her curse and it had come out as real words, not gibberish. Up to this point, every time she’d tried to explain her curse, she couldn’t. She couldn’t even give tiny details. With the curse broken, she could explain the real story to her dad.
“Merry?”
She drew a quick breath. In spite of the fact that Lissa had created an acceptable excuse for her disappearance, Merry wanted to tell her father the truth. She wanted him to understand her hardships and to see there was a good reason she’d changed so much, so he would understand that she wouldn’t revert to being a spoiled princess.
Still, this wasn’t a story one told over the phone. This was a story a daughter told in private, in her father’s study, sipping cocoa, when she could be herself. Not a member of a royal family, but a daughter. “I’ll explain everything when I get home.”
She could hear the warning in her father’s voice when he said, “I’m counting on it.”
“Dad, really. I haven’t done anything wrong, or foolish, or frivolous. How about this? I promise to be home for my birthday.”
He sighed. “That’s three weeks!”
Considering that this was all the time she’d have with Alexander to satisfy the yearning of her soul for one great love, Merry’s heart dipped. Her voice was filled with sadness when she said, “Three weeks isn’t such a long time.”
Apparently picking up on her melancholy, her father relented and softly said, “I suppose.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Tears pricked Merry’s eyes. Though he was a king, her father always deferred to her, always loved her—even when she’d made his life miserable for remarrying after her mother’s death. Lord, she’d been absolutely horrid!
Regret swamped her and she squeezed her eyes shut. She had a lot to make up for when she returned home. “I love you, Dad.”
From her dad’s quickly indrawn breath, she knew she’d surprised him. After a moment of silence, he whispered, “I love you, too.”
Merry tried all afternoon to think of something spectacular that would push Alexander into breaking or bending any rules he might have about getting involved with a co-worker, but she couldn’t think of anything. It wasn’t until she walked past the window of La Torchere Boutique at the end of the day and saw a white thong bikini that a plan formed.
If anything could render a man incapable of resisting a woman, it would be that suit. And as the resort manager, who had insider knowledge of Alexander’s activities, Merry knew the perfect way to be alone with him when he saw her in it. Every night Alexander had a drink beside his private pool before he ordered dinner from the Greenhouse Café. All she had to do was pretend to be lost and walk in on him and voilà…. She’d render him speechless. After a little flirting—to prove she was interested in him and to let him know he didn’t have to worry about her telling tales to the staff—he’d be helpless.
Her plan was perfect.
Merry strode into the boutique and ten minutes later marched out with her secret weapon. But she wasn’t quite so confident when she slid into the skimpy white bikini and eyed herself critically in the full-length mirror of her bedroom.
The scant material barely covered the appropriate areas, but she didn’t think the suit’s skimpiness was the problem. Her hips and thighs were trim and toned. Her tummy was flat. Her breasts were firm. She’d worn this kind of suit a million times before she’d been cursed. So why did something not feel right? And why was that “something” making her stomach churn?
Deciding her odd feeling could simply be nervousness about her night with Alexander, Merry slipped on her blue-violet crocheted cover-up and sneaked out of her villa in the dying light. Wavy clouds of red, pink and aqua applauded the sun for its hard day of work as it made its final descent. Soon it would be dark and she would be in Alexander’s arms. Excitement quivered through her at all the wonderful possibilities that awaited her. But imagining being kissed and held and loved by Alexander also caused Merry’s queasiness to return.
She stopped on the cobblestone path when she reached the fork that gave visitors the option of walking to the beach or turning toward Alexander’s residence. She glanced toward his villa. Though he was owner of La Torchere, Alexander hadn’t wanted his quarters to stand out in any way, so in terms of size and shape, his cottage looked the same as all the others. An open cobblestone path was surrounded on both sides by the resort’s trademark foliage. But that plant life also camouflaged the biggest difference between his villa and the others—a fence that surrounded a private pool.
She knew the gate would be open because every night the guards reported locking it for him. She knew his habits. She had the opportunity. And she looked great. Besides, she didn’t have enough time to wait for him to notice her. At most, she had three weeks before she had to go home. She had to start something tonight.
Anticipation trembled through her as she slid through the gate. Covertly peeking through the sliding glass door to his living room, Merry could see his black leather sofa in the muted glow of a single lamp, the light a fairly clear indicator that he was home.
Nervous, she slid out of her cover-up. She couldn’t decide if she should be in the pool or be lying on a chaise when he came out with his drink. Then she realized a splash from her dive into the water would conveniently alert him that he had a visitor. Time wasn’t her friend. She had to get things moving as quickly as possible. She draped her cover-up over the chaise and dived into the pool. By the time she came up for air, Alexander was opening his sliding glass door.
“What the…Merry?”
Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. That afternoon, he had changed out of his typical resort attire and into a black suit for a meeting, and right now, with the jacket removed and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled to his elbows, he looked sexily rumpled.
Though it was difficult, Merry managed to sound composed when she said, “Oh, hello, Alexander. What are you doing here?”
“I live here.”
She glanced around as if confused. “We all live here.”
“No, I live here,” he said, pointing at the ground beneath his feet. “This is my villa and that,” he said, pointing again, “is my private pool.”
“Private pool?”