Princess In Denim Read Free Page A

Highness
    "I'll hear no more about it, Humphrey." Moira moved to brush past him, and he jumped out of her way.
    Emma followed Moira, and Chloe followed her without hesitation, still keeping her face averted. She knew they breezed past the staff, but didn't dare look up to see who they were. She'd meet them later as Her Royal Highness, the Princess Moira of Ennsway.
    "One more thing, Your Royal Highness," Humphrey said.
    Moira didn't look back; none of them did.
    "His Royal Majesty, the King of Baesland, is tending business in the city. He will return to the plane momentarily."
    Chloe was certain the three women couldn't avoid the neighboring king as handily as they had the staff. There would be little or no time to review her notes as planned. She could turn around right now, run out the door of the plane, down the steps, across the tarmac and back through the terminal. She could beg her landlord for her apartment back—at the new rate, if need be. She could get another job and return to classes.
    She could go back to wearing dirty clothes out of the hamper, stand in line at the bank only to find out she was overdrawn, and muck out stalls until her calluses had calluses.
    Her sigh said it all. No way!
    The private jet was from Baesland, the neighboring country to Moira's Ennsway, compliments of His Royal Majesty, the king. In it was a private bedroom. Not just an ordinary bedroom, either. One with solid cherrywood walls, gold light fixtures, a king-size bed, and plush Oriental throw rugs; a full-size bathroom of marble, with gold faucets on the sink and shower, and crystal decanters on the vanity that held anything a visitor, such as Princess Moira, was likely to want.
    "Wow," Chloe whispered in awe. "I'll bet 'Lifestyles' would like to see this."
    And apparently it also came with a maid, as one knocked at the door and hovered there, waiting for permission to enter.
    Chloe heard well-bred exasperation in Moira's sigh and wondered if she could duplicate it in the days and weeks to come.
    "Leave us," Moira said.
    And the maid vanished, just like that. Chloe wished she'd been able to get rid of a few dates that easily.
    "Lock the door behind me," Emma suggested. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes to check you two out."
    Chloe locked the door behind her, then whirled on Moira. "You didn't tell me there'd be a king on board."
    Moira unwove her French braid, and none too gently. "I didn't know. Come on, hurry up. You don't want to keep him waiting when he gets here. It'll be your first test."
    "First test? What do you call that gauntlet we just ran through?"
    Moira dismissed that with a wave of her hand. Chloe tried it, too, just to see if she could get the same effect.
    "What are you doing?" Moira asked with a laugh.
    Chloe grinned good-naturedly. "Practicing being you."
    "Don't worry about it. It's better if you're just you. Anything you do will be all right."
    Chloe muttered, "I'll believe that when I see it," and whipped off her ball cap.
    They traded everything except their underwear, and that was only because Chloe was wearing an expensive set Moira had given her for Christmas. Chloe got the designer sunglasses, Moira got the Dodgers cap and ponytail. Chloe got the pearls and pale yellow silk suit, Moira the jacket and jeans; the skirt was a little short on Chloe, and Moira got her first lesson in making cuffs. They'd known ahead of time that Chloe couldn't fit into Moira's shoes, so Chloe dug in her backpack for her outrageously expensive new pair of pumps, and Moira stuffed tissues in the toes of the scruffy cowboy boots.
    "Ready?" Moira asked.
    "Ready. What do we do now?"
    Chloe stood still as Moira appraised her.
    "You need mascara."
    "I don't wear mascara."
    "You do now."
    "But you said I should just be myself."
    "Well, yourself wears mascara today. And blush."
    A knock sounded at the door.
    "It's probably Emma. I'll get it," Chloe said as she turned toward the door.
    "No!"
    Chloe stopped dead in her tracks.
    "Jeez, Chloe,