How to Catch a Prince Read online

  Bridget’s lips lifted in a soft smile. “One of my little skills. Are you sure I can’t talk you into one more dress? There are two more shops I’d love to show you.”

  “Not today, but thank you very much. You’ve been much too generous with your time and expertise,” Sophie said and wondered if the Devereaux sisters knew how lucky they were to have each other. The thought stabbed at a tender place inside her. She had never allowed herself to wish for a brother or sister of her own. Her mother had always clearly felt pressured by being a single parent that she wouldn’t have been able to take on the care of another child.

  The sad feeling haunted her, but she refused to let it drag her down after she’d had such a wonderful experience with Bridget. The princess’s chauffeur drove Sophie to her apartment and Bridget gave her a quick hug.

  “Have a nice, peaceful evening,” Bridget joked. “Think of me chasing the twins and the chickens. Ciao.”

  “Ciao, your highness,” Sophie said and walked to her apartment.

  As soon as Sophie stepped inside her apartment, she pulled her red dress from her bag and swished and swirled in front of the full-length mirror. She laughed to herself. “Oh, wow,” she whispered.

  “Oh, wow,” Max said from behind her.

  Panic swept through her. “Uh,” was all she could manage. “How’d you get in here?”

  “You gave me your key,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said and tried to regain her equilibrium. “What’s up?”

  He studied her for a long moment. “I’ve been thinking.”

  Her stomach clenched. “About what?”

  “About what kind of charity we should do here in Chantaine. I think we should make a regional center for kids with orthopedic and birth injuries and improve handicap accessibility.”

  She bit her lip. “I like it. Where’d you get the idea?”

  “Saw a kid who couldn’t go anywhere today. This place is not handicap accessible.”

  “That’s a pretty tall order,” she said. “How can we do it?”

  “It will take more work than usual. Terri said she and her husband would help. He’s pretty handy.” He searched her gaze. “You may be too busy with your new social commitments, though...”

  She frowned at him. “Just because I’m making a social commitment or two doesn’t mean I won’t be able to step up for what you’re asking.”

  “Good to know.” He nodded.

  “Princess Bridget said she asked you to make a few appearances and you turned her down flat.”

  He shook his head. “They sounded pretty useless to me.”

  “Your appearance may have raised some money for a valuable cause.”

  “Sounds kind of superficial to me.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Or not.”

  He met her gaze. “What makes you so sure?”

  “You should use your royal powers for good.”

  He scowled sat her. “What royal powers?”

  “You technically have royal blood. Not everyone does. That means you have special powers. Royal powers,” she said in a low voice.

  “Sounds like bull to me. I’ve never believed in the power of being royal and I still don’t now.”

  “But other people believe in the royal thing. The idea of a prince and princess makes them feel better. It gives them hope.”

  He frowned again.

  “You need to give people a break. We all need to be inspired, and you are a very inspiring man.”

  He lifted a doubtful eyebrow. “You think so?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said confidently. “I also think the best way to earn some money for handicapped kids is by holding an event that you attend. And your best bet is Bridget. If anyone can pull a charity event together quickly, she can.”

  He rolled his eyes. “So, you’re saying I have to make nice to Princess Bridget?”

  “No. I’m just saying you have to ask her for help.”

  “That’s the same as making nice.”

  Sophie shrugged. “That’s a matter of opinion. Bridget has skills just as you have skills. She can throw a great party. Neither you nor I can do that.”

  “This royal thing is a whole different world,” he said.

  “Well, you’re always conquering new worlds,” she rebutted.

  “Hmm. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

  “Well, you have other options. You could always hold a bake sale or a car wash. Those may not make a lot of money, but—”

  “Okay, okay,” he grumbled. “I’ll talk to Bridget.”

  He glanced at the red dress she’d hung on the back of the door. “Nice dress. David Rinaldo is a lucky guy. See you tomorrow,” Max said as he walked out the door.

  “Nice dress...David’s a lucky guy,” she echoed and scowled at the door. “You could have been the lucky guy.”

  Max didn’t sleep well that night. He kept thinking about Sophie and that sexy dress, and the fact that she would be wearing it for David Rinaldo. Once David got a good look at Sophie in that dress, Max was pretty sure the man would try to get her into his bed. Any man in his right mind would do the same.

  The notion gave him indigestion. Rising from his bed, he went to the bathroom and chomped down some antacids. Chasing them with water, he temporarily gave up on sleeping and pulled out his laptop. He played with a few design ideas for a meeting place for disabled kids. He’d like to secure a bottom floor of a building. It would also be great if they could put together a small outdoor playground. Max had a friend who specialized in these kinds of renovations. He would give him a call.

  Lost in exploring his ideas, he barely noticed the passing of time until the first light of dawn slid through his window. Morning already? Great, he thought. He was going to feel like yesterday’s coffee by the afternoon. Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair and rose from the couch. At least he had some ideas for the charity project and he’d gotten Sophie off his mind for a while.

  Max took a shower and grabbed a cup of coffee before he left for work. He was early, but there was always something to do. In this case, something happened an hour after he arrived. He spent the better part of the morning fixing a broken piece of machinery. By lunchtime, he was dirty, cranky and hungry.

  He entered the work trailer to see David Rinaldo propped against Sophie’s desk and her face lit up like it was Christmas. His mood went from bad to worse.

  “Hey,” he interrupted.

  “Oh, hi,” Sophie said and rose from her desk. “I’m not sure you were properly introduced. David Rinaldo,” she said, lifting her hand toward the man who clearly hadn’t spent his morning sweating over a piece of machinery, “this is my boss, Max Caldwell.” She nodded toward Max. “Good news. I’ve caught up on all the paperwork and work orders and plans for the next week. Were you able to fix the sandblaster?”

  “I didn’t have the right part, but I made a workaround. Do we have a lunch delivery on the way?”

  “I was just going to place an order when David arrived. He wants to take me for a little picnic, if that’s okay with you,” she said.

  “I know a beautiful scenic spot not far from here,” David said. “But I promise I won’t keep her too long.”

  Max bet David knew of quite a few scenic spots on the island.

  “Oh, but that leaves you without lunch,” Sophie said to Max then turned to David. “Do you think you might have an extra sandwich in that basket?”

  Max shook his head. He didn’t want anything from David. “Not necessary. I’ll find something.”

  Sophie bit her lip. “But—”

  “There’s plenty in the basket. The palace packed it, so I’m sure we couldn’t eat it all. I’ll bring it in,” David said and left.

  “Hey, you don’t need to—” Max broke off
and rubbed his face with his hand. “Nice surprise,” he said in a dry tone. “Your boyfriend showing up with a picnic basket.”

  “It is nice, and you’re right. A complete surprise. I don’t know what to say. I don’t think I’ve even ever been on a picnic with a man. And he’s not my boyfriend. He’s my friend,” she told him then smiled. “But it’s fun, isn’t it?”

  “I guess,” he said then washed his hands at the small sink in the corner of the trailer. “Fair warning. A man doesn’t take you for a picnic just because he wants to be your friend.”

  “How would you know?” she countered. “How many times have you taken a woman on a picnic?”

  “Never,” he admitted, and it made him feel like a smuck. He’d never had to work too hard at wooing the ladies. That romantic stuff seemed like crap to him. Good conversation and a good time in bed were more important, and making sure he kept things honest with the ladies.

  Toting the basket, David came in the door with Terri walking behind him. “What’s this?” Terri asked.

  “David is sharing some of our picnic with Max,” Sophie said and introduced David to Terri.

  David opened the basket. “Would you care for wine? There are two bottles,” David said.

  “No. That’s okay. I’m okay with a sandwich,” Max said, feeling more irritable with each passing moment.

  “Here’s a croissant. Chicken, a pasta salad, cheese, a chocolate pastry and cherries. Will that do?” David asked.

  “Sure,” Max said with a short nod. It was all he could do not to grind his teeth. Cherries. He couldn’t avoid the sexual comparison, but he tried. “Thanks. You two go ahead on your picnic.”

  Both of them left, thank goodness. Max immediately took his food to his desk and took a bite of chicken.

  “Isn’t that the sweetest thing?” Terri asked. “I’m so glad she’s getting out and that someone’s paying attention to her. She sure deserves it.”

  Max swallowed hard over the chicken in his throat. “Hmm.”

  “She does,” Terri said. “The poor girl has worked like a dog with no social life. I’m glad there’s a man giving her a little special attention. Aren’t you?”

  Max chewed on another bite of chicken. “I guess,” he said.

  “I guess?” Terri echoed in disapproval. “She’s a young woman. She works hard. She’s a darling woman. Isn’t it good that some man appreciates her?”

  Max frowned, feeling torn in a dozen directions. “Maybe,” he said. “Sophie’s a good woman.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Terri said. “Sophie is a rock star. And more than one man is going to realize that and try to win her heart.”

  He felt as if Terri were issuing a warning that he didn’t want to receive. “I can’t disagree with you,” he said.

  Max chomped down the rest of the lunch, nearly choking on the cherries, but he made himself chew the sweet fruit and swallow it. With every bite, he thought of Sophie. He couldn’t help thinking about how much he wanted her. It was crazy and he needed to get it out of his system.

  Despite finishing his lunch, he still felt empty. He still wanted Sophie. It had nothing to do with food and he had no idea how to rid himself of the gosh-awful longing.

  When Sophie returned to the office trailer, she was giggling with delight.

  “How was the wine?” he asked.

  “I only drank a little,” she said. “Because I have to work this afternoon. But whew, it sure tasted good.”

  He nodded, wishing he had been the guy to make her want wine more than beer. “Good dessert, too.”

  “Delicious,” she said. “Extremely delicious. I never knew dating could be this much fun,” she said and spun around before she took her seat.

  Max felt a terrible sense of regret. He wished he had been the one to make her love being courted. Why hadn’t he? He felt like a dud.

  * * *

  On Saturday, Sophie was driven to the palace for a mani-pedi. She was surprised when Eve, Pippa and Bridget showed up for the pedicure.

  “How are you all feeling?” Sophie asked as each of the women dipped their feet into swirling hot water.

  “I needed this,” Eve said.

  “So did I,” Pippa chirped.

  “I’ve always said a pedicure is underrated,” Bridget added and sighed.

  Sophie took her turn soaking her feet in the tub and leaned her head against the backrest. She noticed a control for the massage chair and pushed the button.

  Seconds later, she heard the low hum of massage from the other chairs. “So, how are the babies?” Bridget asked.

  “My nanny has Amelie at the moment,” Pippa said. “If she needs milk, I’ve pumped some for her. That said, I have nothing against formula. I’m confident my baby will thrive either way.”

  “Hear, hear,” Eve said. “Although my feeding is going well, I wouldn’t mind a break now and then.”

  “And then there are shoes,” Bridget said. “Because not all of us are obsessed with breast milk.”

  “I’ve never been fond of overly high heels. I like a good pair of riding boots, though,” Eve said, her eyes closed as she rested her head against the back of her chair.

  “My perfect shoe,” Pippa said, “would be both elegant and comfortable. I would love for someone to design such a shoe. Bridget, there’s no way I would wear the high-heeled shoes you do.”

  “I’m used to it,” Bridget said, sloshing her feet in the swirling water. “I’ve walked in high heels through sand. It’s training. Do you know how easy it is to walk on marble after you’ve trudged through wet sand?”

  “I never thought of it that way,” Pippa said. “And I never will again. It’s clearly not important enough for me.”

  Sophie couldn’t quite swallow a snicker.

  “Is that a laugh?” Bridget asked with a disapproving tone.

  “Sorry. Couldn’t help it. Not everyone can wear heels like you do.”

  “Agreed,” Eve said.

  “I second that,” Pippa said. “Perhaps you should be given a special award. The Princess who can wear heels in any situation.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” Bridget snapped back. “And you shouldn’t mock me.”

  “We’re not,” Eve said. “We’re admiring you.”

  “Why don’t I feel admired?” Bridget asked.

  “Because we have to mock you to make up for our inability,” Sophie said without thinking. A second later, she wondered if she had offended Bridget. “Maybe I should have phrased that differently.”

  “No.” Bridget snickered. “I think you phrased it perfectly. But enough of that. How are our babies sleeping?”

  “Not bad,” Eve said. “June Bug seems to crave his nighttime sleep, which makes me happy.”

  “Amelie is pretty good, too. She’s nowhere near sleeping through the night, but she’s excellent about going back to sleep.”

  “Does Stefan mind you calling the heir June Bug?” Bridget asked.

  “No. We call him all kinds of silly things like lovey, sweetie pie. June Bug is just one of many. Don’t share it with the press,” she joked. “When he gets older you’ll have to call him something else,” Bridget said.

  “Yes,” Eve said. “But that’s later. Now we can treat him like a baby, thank goodness.”

  “Well, speaking of heirs, I received a shocking call from our half brother,” Bridget said.

  Curious, but determined to be discreet, Sophie kept her mouth shut.

  “Really?” Pippa said. “No insult to you, Sophie, but he hasn’t been very friendly. I mean, we truly appreciate what he’s doing with roads on the north island, but I’ve gotten the feeling he doesn’t approve of us.”

  “I think he doesn’t quite know what to do in this situation,” Sophie piped in. “He�
��s never had any brothers or sisters.”

  “I can see how we would throw him for a loop. The Devereauxes can be a little loony at times,” Eve said in her Texas drawl.

  “We’re not loony,” Bridget insisted, appearing indignant. “We’re just—” She broke off as if she couldn’t come up with the perfect word.

  “Unique,” Pippa offered. “Yet, at the same time we’re like everyone else.” She chuckled. “Because everyone is a little crazy, yes?”

  Sophie couldn’t help laughing along with Pippa.

  “Hmm. I’m not sure I like being called crazy,” Bridget said, but she was smiling. “But anyways, Maxwell Carter called me to ask if I would help put together a charity event to support his plan to remodel a center for handicapped children downtown. I must say I am bowled over. Although we all appreciate what he’s doing for our roads, I never would have expected this additional generosity from him.”

  Sophie felt her heart stir. “He puts up a good front that he doesn’t care, but he does care more than you might think.”

  “I’m quite impressed,” Bridget said.

  “So am I,” Eve said. “I love this plan. My time is limited right now, but let me know if there’s something I can do.”

  Pippa nodded. “You’ve got the same offer from me.”

  “Perfect,” Bridget said and glanced at Sophie. “Maybe this will be another event for you and David to attend.”

  “David Rinaldo?” Eve asked and gave a nod of approval. “He’s a good guy. Stefan really respects him.”

  “Romance is in the air,” Bridget said with a smile.

  “Friendship is in the air,” Sophie corrected.

  * * *

  An hour later, Sophie was led to the palace stylist. She’d enjoyed the mani-pedi, but the makeup made her a little crazy. “Are you sure this isn’t a bit much?” she asked Bridget as the palace stylist applied her cosmetics.

  “You’re looking beautiful. Once you see the photos, you’ll be glad you did this,” Bridget said.

  “Seems like a lot of plaster to me,” Sophie said.

  Bridget laughed. “She has no idea about plaster.” She nudged the stylist.