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in that way all you please. I'mafraid that whenever I get flustered, I fall back on those pompous manners drilled into me from birth. Please call me Kira. Everyone does.” She smiled. “Besides, economically speaking, you're far more royal than I'll ever be. I have a wardrobe allowance, but little else. Stefan keeps me a virtual pauper.”
    He lifted a brow. “Really? I had no idea Tamrovia was so poverty-stricken. Is the purpose of your visit to enlist foreign aid?”
    “Foreign aid… well, yes. In a funny way, I guess that is why I'm here.” Her smile faded and her gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “You know who I am. I wouldn't have thought you would. There are so many princesses running around Europe these days.”
    “But you're an exceptionally newsworthy princess. It isn't every princess who dances in Rome's Trevi Fountain at midnight.”
    “I wasn't dancing in it,” she said indignantly. “The
paparazzi
misrepresented the episode. Actually, when I tossed my coin in the fountain I was so furious that I made a horribly bloodthirsty wish against someone who was annoying me atthe time. Then I had second thoughts and decided he didn't really deserve such punishment.”
    “So you tried to get your coin back and undo the curse?”
    “Well, I didn't want to take chances. You never can tell what works and what doesn't.”
    “No?” There was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Were you also trying to undo a curse when you pushed the Spanish pretender to the throne off the dock at Corfu?”
    “Hm-m. It seemed an effective way to get his pudgy hands off my body and keep them off. He appeared to be intent on adding this princess's scalp to his belt.” She closed her eyes. “Oh, dear, I shouldn't have said that, should I? I didn't mean to cast aspersions on your Indian heritage. So much for the foreign aid.” She heard a deep chuckle and her eyes flicked open. “Thank heaven you have a sense of humor.”
    “I'm serious about my heritage, not fanatic.” He smiled faintly. “You'd be a most desirable prize whether you were a princess or not. I can't say I like the literal image of your scalp dangling from a warrior's belt, though.”
    Kira felt oddly breathless. There was something … She breathed deeply. “I assure you that José wouldn't have wanted the scalp—or anything else—if I didn't have the title. I didn't realize that my escapades had been so well publicized in the States.” She shrugged. “Maybe it's because I went to college here. Well, all of that business with fountains and docks took place when I was much younger. I'm not so impulsive anymore.”
    “I'm glad old age has tempered you,” he said solemnly. “You're how old now? Twenty-two or twenty-three?”
    “Twenty-three,” she said, frowning. “Your newspapers seem to be very informative.”
    “Not really. There was actually very little regarding your background. You're Princess Kira Rubinoff, your parents are dead, and you're under the guardianship of your brother, King Stefan of Tamrovia. You have another brother, Lance, who lives in Sedikhan and is an extremely gifted artist. I have a few of his paintings, by the way.”
    “Isn't he wonderful? He painted a few portraits of me when I was a child, but hasn't used me as a subject since then. He says he's waitinguntil I've ‘set.’” She wrinkled her nose. “Makes me sound about as appealing as watery Jell-O.”
    “You seem to be quite fond of him.” His eyes narrowed. “Why didn't you ask him for help? I understand he's very well off.”
    “He's closely linked to Alex Ben Raschid, the ruler of Sedikhan. I can't involve Sedikhan in my problems again. The last time I nearly caused a diplomatic incident. I'm trying to keep the knowledge of this mess from everyone in Sedikhan.” She nibbled at her lower lip. “It's not entirely a financial problem. That wasn't what I meant.”
    “This sounds intriguing.” he said slowly. “Or it would if I had any idea what you were talking