Princess for the Headlines, page 1
Rene simply stood there, his gaze still fixed on Mel as he dropped another bombshell. “It’s a press release announcing my engagement to Melody Taylor.”
“But we’re not engaged,” Mel said, hating the jump in her pulse and the burst of adrenaline that she had to quash.
Was this some kind of trick? Or simply a sick joke? She couldn’t marry Prince Rene, and even if she could, he hadn’t even asked her.
“It’s the best way to protect your reputation,” he said. “Until the press are off our backs.”
“A fake engagement,” she said with realization, hating that brief spurt of excitement even more.
She would have to accept Rene’s invitation. And his protection. Even go along with his lie about an engagement, and travel with him to a private island on the other side of the world, where she would be completely at the mercy of desires and passions she had never been able to control around him…
By Royal Arrangement
Two royal households…both alike in infamy!
The queen of Androvia must find a husband…or submit to a dynastic marriage to the playboy prince next door!
Innocent Isabelle is certain there couldn’t be a more scandalous match for her than Prince Rene. So, when she meets American billionaire Travis Lord, she has an outrageous proposition for him. She’ll let him build his exclusive Androvian resort—if he’ll marry her! Then she gets a taste of her new husband’s total disregard of protocol…and the scorching chemistry between them. Has she leaped from the frying pan and into the fire?
Find out in Queen’s Winter Wedding Charade
Notorious royal Rene from the neighboring principality once shared a secret night of passion with Androvian lady-in-waiting Mel…but there’s been an icy rift between them ever since. Now a New Year’s Eve Ball results in a shocking twist of events: Rene and Mel have disappeared…together! And when photos of their red-hot reunion are released, Rene is duty-bound to protect her—by announcing her as his royal fiancée!
Read all about it in Princess for the Headlines
Available now!
Princess for the Headlines
Heidi Rice
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Page numbers taken from the following print edition: ISBN 9781335939685
USA TODAY bestselling author Heidi Rice lives in London, England. She is married with two teenage sons—which gives her rather too much of an insight into the male psyche—and also works as a film journalist. She adores her job, which involves getting swept up in a world of high emotions; sensual excitement; funny, feisty women; sexy, tortured men; and glamorous locations where laundry doesn’t exist. Once she turns off her computer, she often does chores—usually involving laundry!
Books by Heidi Rice
Harlequin Presents
Revealing Her Best Kept Secret
Stolen for His Desert Throne
Redeemed by My Forbidden Housekeeper
Hidden Heir with His Housekeeper
Revenge in Paradise
Billion-Dollar Christmas Confessions
Unwrapping His New York Innocent
Hot Winter Escapes
Undoing His Innocent Enemy
Billion-Dollar Bet
After-Party Consequences
By Royal Arrangement
Queen’s Winter Wedding Charade
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To Abby Green and Amanda Cinelli.
Great Harlequin Presents authors and even better Presents brainstormers!
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
WHERE THE HELL is she now? Is she trying to create an international incident? Because she’s doing a spectacular job tonight of making me look like a complete ass.
Prince Rene Sven Conrad Gaultiere tuned out the excited chatter from his press secretary as he stood on the ornate marble balcony overlooking Gaultiere Castle’s West Ballroom. He surveyed the centuries-old splendour, which was currently festooned in gold and silver décor, lasers streaming across the dancefloor as music throbbed and the clock edged closer to midnight. Like a raptor locating its prey, he found the woman in red satin he’d been looking for amongst the five hundred carefully selected guests, her blonde chignon glittering like a halo in the sparkle of light from a crystal chandelier.
That would be the woman who had been tasked with hosting the traditional New Year’s Eve Ball by his side—to demonstrate the excellent union between their two neighbouring countries—but who had been avoiding him all evening.
The fury he’d been barely managing to keep a chokehold on ramped up another notch.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that Melody Taylor had appeared only moments before the event started, then run off as soon as they had opened the Ball together, she was now busy flirting with Eli Carter.
Of course he wasn’t remotely surprised Carter had sniffed her out, given the US hotel tycoon had an even more notorious reputation for seducing beautiful women than Rene himself—and the gown Mel was wearing plunged so low it turned her curvaceous figure into the Eighth Wonder of the World. But Carter’s behaviour was not Rene’s concern. Melody’s, on the other hand…
She was here representing Androvia tonight—because she was Queen Isabelle’s best friend as well as her personal assistant. This annual event was supposed to highlight the friendship between their two kingdoms—not how low an opinion the Queen of Androvia’s PA had of Saltzaland’s Prince, i.e. him.
As he watched, the woman who had entered the Ball on his arm tilted her head forward inquisitively, and Carter leaned closer to whisper something in her ear… Close enough to see right down the front of her gown.
Rene’s fraying temper ignited.
Who the hell did Carter think he was? Coming on to his date for the evening, on his territory, at his event, in his castle? And what was Melody thinking? Carter was a wolf who would take pleasure in using her influence with Androvia’s Queen for his own purposes.
Rene swore viciously under his breath.
Melody and he had always had a complicated relationship—which had only become more complicated when he’d made the mistake of sleeping with her, four years ago. But she was here to do a job on behalf of her Queen, and her decision to flirt with Carter, who had less ethics than an alley cat, by all accounts, was the final straw.
‘As soon as the clock strikes midnight I’m out of here, Andre,’ he said to his press secretary, interrupting the flow of information about what a spectacular success this year’s Ball had been.
Not for me. Because my co-host has gone out of her way to make it abundantly clear she believes I am beneath contempt.
‘But Your Majesty, we were hoping to get some photos for the press in…’ Andre began.
‘Forget it, you’ll just have to make my excuses… And while you’re at it, make Miss Taylor’s excuses too,’ he added.
Tonight, he was through ignoring—or attempting to laugh off—her antagonism towards him. He tugged his phone out of his tuxedo pocket. Midnight was less than a minute away.
About damn time.
Once the castle bell had tolled the hour, he was heading to his private suite. And Melody was going to accompany him—whether she liked it or not. He had no intention of allowing Carter to seduce her because she was his responsibility. Plus, it was past time he explained to her in words of one syllable that her rudeness towards him in public would no longer be tolerated.
Queen Isabelle had inadvertently presented him with the opportunity to clear the air with her PA when she had asked her friend to attend this event in her stead—while she was on her honeymoon in America.
Ironic to think he had once offered for Isabelle’s hand himself. Not that theirs would ever have been a love match. But the Androvian Queen’s hasty marriage to US sportswear entrepreneur Travis Lord had forced Rene to acknowledge something tonight which he had failed to address for four years. Melody Taylor needed to be taught some manners. He had been treating her with kid gloves, because she was Isabelle’s best friend, and an integral part of the Queen’s entourage—and she had only been eighteen years old that night.
Plus, she had captivated him, more than she should—which had made him determined to give her a wide berth ever since. Although why he found her so fascinating, he had no idea. She was a beautiful woman, but then, he knew a lot of beautiful women.
Perhaps it was her snotty attitude towards him, even before that night, right back to when they were children, which was so unlike every other woman he had ever encountered… Or maybe it was the way she had eventually succumbed to their livewire chemist
Even her animosity towards him had failed to kill their chemistry completely, which would almost be funny if it weren’t so damned annoying.
But as the world-famous DJ the Castle’s events planner had flown in from Ibiza paused the music to count the seconds down to midnight, Rene dumped his untouched champagne flute on a passing tray.
Enough is enough. Tonight, she has pushed me too far.
He headed down the wide marble steps towards the ballroom below, ignoring the many attempts to waylay him en route.
No more kid gloves. No more avoidance. No more failing to confront the elephant in the room.
Melody had brought this on herself with her escalating rudeness towards him over the past four years.
Tonight, she needed to learn the lesson he had learned during the intervening years, that her hurt feelings were not a good enough excuse to disrespect him and, more importantly, his office and his country, in front of their guests, the international community and the world’s press.
No one—not even that upstart Carter—was going to stop Rene from getting that damn elephant off his chest once and for all.
One thing was for sure. Melody Taylor would not be able to ignore him—or give him the side-eye—a moment longer once this never-ending event was finally over… In ten seconds and counting.
* * *
‘Three! Two! One… Happy New Year, everyone!’
Mel clapped as the crowd erupted around her—relief flowing through her.
If only Isabelle had known how much spending the night in Gaultiere Castle would cost her. But the hours she had been forced to spend in Rene’s home were nearly over.
Thanks to her carefully planned late arrival and all the demands on the Prince’s time at an event like this, she had only had to spend five minutes by his side—which had kept the emotions he stirred under strict control.
Now all she had to do was make a swift and dignified exit.
The Castle’s guest manager had assigned her a suite for the night in the East Wing, but she had no intention of waking up here tomorrow—the risk of seeing Rene again far too great. So she had arranged for an all-terrain vehicle to be made available to her in the Castle’s garage. The five-hour drive through the mountains at night could be perilous, especially at this time of year, but the weather forecast was favourable, and the route had been clear when she and the rest of Isabelle’s staff had arrived this afternoon.
All she had to do now was change out of the ball gown and flee. No one would even know she had left ahead of schedule until she got back to Androvia.
She edged her way through the packed crowd of revellers, who were busy planting impromptu kisses on each other. But before she got more than a couple of steps a soft tug on her elbow found her pulled against the chest of Eli Carter.
‘Happy New Year, Ms Taylor,’ he murmured in his deep American accent.
She pressed her palms against a solid wall of muscle to resist falling any further into his arms as the crowd surged around them.
Carter had been charming up to now, his interest in her flattering, and it had helped take her mind off her tumultuous reaction to being in Rene’s home for the first time. But the hotel magnate’s closeness now felt a lot more forward.
‘How about a kiss to celebrate the New Year?’ Carter said, the arrogant amusement in his gaze almost as disconcerting as the abrupt switch from charming to flirtatious.
Tall, dark and hot, with an ego the size of the Castle itself, Eli Carter clearly had seducing women as one of his superpowers. And while he hadn’t been remotely pushy up to now, she knew a womaniser when she saw one.
Thanks so much, Rene Gaultiere.
She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was a cynical edge to Carter’s interest in her—which had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Rene—because he’d asked her a lot of probing questions about Saltzaland’s Prince during their discussion. But while she had very personal reasons for avoiding Rene, she had sensed Carter had reasons of his own for disliking the Prince.
She’d deflected Carter’s questions easily enough, because the last person she wanted to talk about, let alone think about, was the man she had been determined to avoid all evening. And luckily, she was not the same naïve, insecure eighteen-year-old who’d once fallen for Rene’s charms. But she didn’t have time to deal with Carter now.
‘Nice try, Carter, but I’ll pass,’ she said, forced to lean close to him as the noise levels in the ballroom reached deafening.
‘Shame,’ he shouted back, although he didn’t look particularly crestfallen, increasing her suspicions that he’d had a hidden agenda tonight she wanted no part of.
But just as he let her elbow go, the crowd parted behind him—and Rene appeared from nowhere.
Mel’s heartbeat rammed her ribs—and plunged between her thighs.
The black tuxedo he wore was perfectly fitted to his tall, muscular physique, the shimmering lights from the antique chandelier above their heads casting his handsome face into stark relief.
She hated herself for noticing how magnificent he looked. But, to her surprise, instead of saying something cutting or, worse, dismissive, Rene grabbed the billionaire’s shoulder and yanked him away from her.
‘Touch her again, Carter, and you’ll regret it,’ he announced, the low-grade fury shocking Mel, but not as much as the spurt of awareness. Or the horrifying shot of arousal as his broad shoulders flexed under the expertly tailored tux.
But then his furious glare landed on her. ‘We’re leaving.’
Her back stiffened with indignation—and hurt. She dismissed it. She didn’t care what Rene thought of her. She had stopped caring a long time ago.
But how dare he look at her like that, as if she had done something wrong by talking to Carter, when he was the biggest libertine on the planet?
Carter threw up his hands in a defensive gesture, but the mocking tone was unmistakable when he shouted a reply above the chorus of ‘Auld Lang Syne’.
‘Perhaps we should let the lady decide who she wants to celebrate the New Year with, Your Majesty?’ he all but sneered.
‘The lady does not intend to celebrate it with either of you,’ Mel interjected, her fury at Rene’s high-handedness building. ‘Because she’s going home.’
She didn’t wait to watch the pissing contest continue, turning to push through the crowd. Before she could reach the ballroom’s service doors, though, a large hand grasped her wrist, forcing her to an abrupt stop. She knew whose hand it was when sensation sprinted up her arm.
‘Not so damn fast.’ Rene was so close she could smell him, that devastating aroma of cedarwood soap and man and expensive cologne.
The anger she wanted to feel tangled with the hole in her gut she had spent four years repairing. And the inappropriate yearning—as she recalled his touch, so sure and devastating, the feel of him, so overwhelming inside her… And the morning after, when he’d been gone and her heart had imploded.
‘Release me.’ She struggled against his hold.
‘The hell I will. Where do you think you’re going now?’
‘None of your business.’ She wasn’t about to tell him of her plans, even though he couldn’t possibly want her here, any more than she wished to be here.
She jerked her hand loose and shoved open the service doors, then lifted her skirts and ran past the line of waiters holding trays of champagne flutes aloft. But as the music faded behind her, she could hear running footsteps cutting through the noise coming from the kitchen.
She had barely made it through the kitchen doors before her pursuer snagged her wrist a second time. ‘Stop, dammit. What are you running from, you little fool?’
She skidded to a stop, aware of the scene they were making in front of the kitchen staff, who were all watching with varying degrees of avid curiosity and shock.
She wondered what exactly was so shocking—that their Prince was behaving like an overbearing arse, or that his date for the evening was trying to get away from him?
