A Bride for Prince Paul by Mona Risk

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A text message from the Chief of Security blinked on Prince Paul’s cell.

“Problems. Dr. Amy said she can’t accept our prince’s hospitality. And she can’t afford to pay for it. Advise.”

Paul texted: “I’ll take over. Introduce me as their tour guide.”

“Their what!!!!!” Too many exclamation points punctuated DeBow’s answer.

Paul chuckled. If he was going to marry, he wanted to be sure his future wife was in love with him—not with the crown of Rensy Island. To keep his promise to Prince Edward, Paul concentrated on his new plan of action and focused an eagle eye on the American guests.

Time for him to interfere. He sidled by the Chief of Security and approached the car. “Welcome to Paris, Dr. Amy. Paul Maxim at your service.” Determined to convince her not to complicate his already complicated life, he bent down through the open door. “I will be your tour guide for a week.” A charming smile plastered on his mouth, he captured her bewildered gaze and held it.

Her lovely baby blues caressed his face with a look full of surprise, and her full lips pouted in a “You?”

“Yes, Dr. Amy. I would love to show you Paris. I hope you don’t mind because my prince would fire me if I don’t do my job.”

“Oh no. No, no. Of course, I wouldn’t want to have you fired. It’s just that this hotel is too…too much for me.” The flexing and twiddling of her fingers attested to her nervousness.

“Relax.” He squeezed in next to her and she scurried to the other end. Throwing his arm on the back of the seat, he leaned forward and inched toward her personal space. A subtle scent of vanilla and jasmine swirled around him—discreet yet more intoxicating than his favorite whiskey. “Prince Edward wouldn’t have offered this hotel and vacation if he couldn’t afford it. I suggest you accept it graciously and send him a thank you note.”

Still hesitating, she bit her lip.

He raised his hand in protest and almost begged her to stop torturing that adorable lip he was suddenly eager to taste. “Please let’s go, Dr. Amy. Remember, I need my job and my head,” he added for good measure.

“Your head?” She sounded so confused.

“Yes, the prince may chop it if he found me at fault.”

She chuckled at his joke. “If you insist I should accept the prince’s hospitality, I won’t be difficult.”

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