The Making of a Princess Read Free

have a date with a foreign hottie.”
    “Yes, you do.” Michelle went with the change of subject. “What are you going to wear?”
    “Oh no, you’re not going to do that to me. I’m not going to go mental over what I wear tomorrow. That’s your thing, not mine.”
    “I don’t know how you can be so calm about such a big decision. Impressions matter.”
    “I’ll be fine. I don’t own anything that won’t make a good impression.”
    “Yeah. Now that you’re out on your own, we have to do something about that.”
    * * *
    “Sir?” Officer Bonnet appeared at Xavier’s side in answer to his summons.
    “See the redhead leaving with the blond?” he indicated Amanda and her companion. “I want you to follow her. Discreetly. I want to know where she goes, what she does, and where she lives.”
    “Yes, sir.” Bonnet turned to leave.
    “Bonnet.” Xavier stopped the man. “Don’t let her see you.”
    “Sir.” Bonnet nodded and moved after the women.
    Xavier watched Amanda, she moved gracefully, her posture straight, elegant. It wasn’t hard to see her as a royal. She suddenly looked back and saw him. She gave a little wave.
    Xavier inclined his head in acknowledgement. A moment later she was gone, Bonnet on her heels.
    Xavier reached for his phone, dialed a long distance number. When a voice answered, he said, “It’s LeDuc. I need to speak to the Prince.”

CHAPTER TWO
    A MANDA SAT OUTSIDE in the cool morning air. Spring bloomed around her, vibrant colors spilling from trellis boxes and potted planters up and down the street. She enjoyed this spot high on the hill with its view of the ocean. She enjoyed sitting in the fresh air.
    And still she fiddled with the ruffled cuff of her sweater dress. Darn Michelle for making her self-conscious of her wardrobe choice. The soft gray mini dress with three rows of ruffles at the hem, paired with black high heeled boots and a flowing purple muffler was the perfect look for an idle Sunday morning.
    So maybe it wasn’t her clothes choice making her nervous at all. Maybe it was the fact her hot date was late.
    Not that Michelle was off the hook. Amanda went through five outfits before deciding on the gray dress. Nothing had felt right. And that wasn’t like her, neither the indecisiveness nor the fussiness. She had a long, lean frame that clothes loved, and a sense of style drilled into her by a grandmother obsessed with decorum and good taste.
    “Amanda.” The deep voice made her name a caress. She looked up and there stood Xavier silhouetted against the morning sun, his shoulders broad beams in an expensive suit.
    “Xavier,” she breathed. Oh get a grip, girl. No man respects a pushover.
    “Good morning.” He reached for her hand, bent over it before taking his seat.
    It was Old World gestures like that that got to her. He got to her—his somberness offset by an edgy dangerousness. She had no doubt he was very good at his job.
    But she prided herself on being mature, so it was time to act like it.
    “Please forgive my tardiness. A last-minute call from home.”
    “I understand. It must be hard to be away for months at a time.”
    “Yes.” He waved over a waitress, ordered coffee and a Danish. “However, I am a soldier. And it is a prestigious assignment. I am honored to serve my country.”
    “A soldier?” she asked. “I thought you were a security officer.”
    “I am an officer of the Garde royale à la Couronne . As were my father and his father before him and so on, for six generations.”
    “A personal guard to the crown—impressive. The exhibit is lovely.” She gestured to the newspaper she’d brought with her. “The preview is a great success. You must be proud to be trusted with your country’s treasures. Your Prince must have great faith in you.”
    He was silent for a moment and she worried she might have insulted him. But then he leaned forward as he reached for her hand and played with her fingers.
    “That is exactly so. Though many