Kristin Wells held her refurbished pocketbook close to her chest, scratched side in. She’d spent an hour before her interview this morning buffing out the flaw in the black leather.

She tapped her feet on the marble floor of the hotel. She’d applied for this position three months ago while browsing the job postings at her current employer, Miami Insurance. Who wouldn’t want to travel the world as secretary for the Royal Prince Antonio Aussa, the world’s most eligible bachelor? She hadn’t seen much of the world, and never a man as gorgeous as the prince in the photos.

Her shoe slipped off. Drat. She reached down and fixed it as her heart raced. Her best friend Renee had convinced her to go for it—what did she have to lose by applying? And now here she sat in a Marriott Hotel conference room, her legs jittering despite skipping her morning coffee. Kristin glanced at the old curmudgeon with steel-gray hair and round brown glasses that sat at a black, shining desk near the door. If she got the job, would she report to this woman? She avoided eye contact but smiled as much as possible.

The older lady stood and pointed toward the door to an interior office. Kristin got the impression that this was a temporary set up—the only thing on the desk was a phone. "You may go in now, Ms. Wells."

At least the interview would give her a peek at Antonio, who she’d researched online. He was a playboy prince from a country next to Italy that wasn’t quite as big. If she landed this job, she’d have to brush up on her Italian to ensure his social calendar stayed in order. But most important had been that smile of his. It was magnetic. With luck, she'd see it in person.

“Are you thinking about running away?” The older woman asked.

"I’m going in. Thanks." She fixed her black skirt, went inside the empty room and closed the door. Her heart beat out of control.

Bright sun reflected off the ocean visible from the glass walls and she ducked her head. The hotel must use this room for weddings, she thought. A modern, sleek metal desk, with a single white folder atop,, and two accent chairs for guests was situated in the middle of the room. The large sliding glass door would give access to the private beach, not that she was interested.

Her pale complexion and the beach had never gotten along. She chose the seat in the shaded part of the room to avoid a burn and smoothed her skirt.

A moment later, she heard the click of the door to her right and in walked Prince Antonio Aussa. A shiver so deep it woke every part of her body spread through her and she felt like she’d combust if he brushed against her. The pictures hadn't done him justice. His smile was better than magnetic, his shoulders more broad in his gray tailored suit, and his hair as shiny and rich as melted dark chocolate. He’d starred in her dreams over the last three months but the reality made her tremble.

He held out his hand in greeting. His palm looked massive compared to her small wrists, but she felt a zap when he took her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” Grateful she hadn’t stammered, she focused on the yellow legal pad in his hand. He hadn’t said a word yet. “I'm excited to start our interview,” she swallowed her nerves, “as I am very interested in this job."

Millions of women would die to do whatever he wanted.

He cleared his throat, and took the empty seat beside her. She sat on the edge of her chair and waited while he assessed her plain brown eyes behind her black frames. Renee had urged her to get highlights in her brown hair but she hadn’t had time—now she wanted to hide from his brilliance.

Her skin grew goosebumps of awareness, but she kept her mouth shut. Her current job sucked the life out of her and if she had to do one more fraudulent insurance claim she’d jump off a bridge. Her life was boring, predictable, safe. And her third masters degree wasn’t taking her mind off things. Being hired as the prince’s secretary would allow her to travel, and maybe pay off her condo which she could rent while away because she needed a major change and to figure out how to be happy in her skin.

He scooted his chair closer to her and her pulse raced. "Why should I choose you?"

Because if he ripped off her clothes, she wouldn’t protest? Her hand shook slightly and she clutched her bag to hide it. His smile had triggered a longing for something more. Her body throbbed to know every inch of him. She’d never had a high school crush—was this feeling like that?

Kristin knew the math for them would never add up. She refused to let her emotions rule her, ever, and she certainly didn’t believe in falling in love, especially at first sight.

But as his paid secretary? Her parents had instilled a solid work ethic. They were gone now and she’d honor their teaching—even the silent lessons, like love being a delusion that eventually ate away and destroyed all happiness.

Kristin needed to convince him that she was the best applicant. "My undergraduate degree is in finance, so I can run numbers for you in addition to taking notes during meetings or updating your calendar. The idea of being flexible to meet the demands of a royal prince means I get to think on my feet."

At her current job, she worked on the same items, every single day. He sat back and she felt a pang of loss that his interest in her was gone, but then he met her gaze. She couldn't look away. "You're sure of yourself."

Did he think so? Normally yes. Right now, she was a hot mess on the inside. When she tried to loosen the death grip on her pocketbook, she dropped it instead, the broken latch spilling the contents of her purse all over the floor. "Is confidence a bad thing?"

Her cheeks burned as she bent down to collect her things. Once she’d stuffed her lipstick, mascara, pads that weren't necessary at all for another few weeks, and pens into her bag, she straightened in the chair. "I'm sorry, I'm never this clumsy."

"I'm used to it. It's what happens when women meet me for the first time."

Arrogant too. She lifted her chin. "Or it's your title. A crown can be intimidating." This was an interview, not a date. Kristin had to remember why she was here. She nodded. "I'm career-oriented and a fast learner."

He crossed his arms and again her body grew warm from his perusal. Then he picked up the one folder on the desk. "Your name is Kristin Wells?"

"Yes." She had sounded breathless. She battled for control of her senses, but her skin heated and she feared she blushed.

He stared at her, gifting her with his sexy grin. He closed the folder and the snap of papers filled the air. "Would you take your glasses off for a minute?"

A simple request if her hands weren't shaking. She did her best, but lowered her lashes so she didn't have to look directly at him. If he saw into her soul, he’d see her fantasies of him and goodbye perfect job. "Umm, okay, but I do need them to see."

He took them from her. His palm made her skin jump. "You have beautiful eyes, have you ever thought of contacts?"

"Of course." Beautiful wasn’t a word she’d expected to hear today, when she’d chosen her borrowed black heels, black pencil skirt and feminine white button-up blouse. Once her glasses were on her face again, she looked up. "I do have them, but I don't wear them often."

He angled his chair closer. "Any particular reason?"

If she somehow landed this job, she'd have to get her raging crush under control. She didn’t like people looking directly into her eyes as he was doing right now, but she carefully chose her words to answer his question. “I’m not trying to impress anyone. I know my place and how to be a professional.”

He read his paperwork again. "Kristin, your resume also says you have a marketing background."

"Yes." At least her voice sounded normal. She crossed her legs. "I’ve run a successful online launch for the watch band company I briefly worked at." His attention was drawn to the slit in her skirt so she uncrossed her legs, self-conscious. "We sold out of the band. Now I work for an insurance company."

His gaze returned to her eyes. "Why did you leave that job?"

The interview was back on track. Good. She could handle business. She’d always wanted to travel and learn, but she knew the value of a penny in the bank. Her parents had taught her frugal now meant security in the future. Her body eased. "The watch band was exciting, but once they sold out, her position was over."

“And insurance?”

“The insurance company because there were health benefits and a 401K, but it was so boring. Your position would be anything but, and I’m up for the challenge.”

“I hope that’s true.” He opened the folder again and scanned the contents. "So, let's get right to this. How much are you for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year?"

Her pulse surged. Did she really have a chance here? And she had no clue how much she should say for a salary demand. What a terrible interview question! "I would need to give two weeks’ notice at work, but I don't have any family obligations."

He stared at her and she noticed that his brown eyes had a hint of green. No picture had ever captured that illusive color.

"You didn't answer the question. How much are you?"

She blinked. What question, she thought but then she remembered the salary. She’d checked online and the starting salary for a secretary was forty thousand, but he wanted around the clock attention. Late nights meant she should request more. Her stomach churned. She needed to be in the ballpark number so that he didn't laugh her out of the office. "$60,000? For the extra time."

He rubbed the lower part of his chin. "That's low for what I'm asking."

Really? "For a secretary, it's a competitive price."

His grin curved into a smirk. "How much for you to be my wife?"

She jerked in her seat. Was this a joke? "Your wife?" Nothing on earth could have prepared her for this moment. Seriously. She searched every corner, every wall, wondering where the cameras were hidden.

Her mother had warned her to choose her future husband carefully and never fall for a playboy. Prince Antonio had a new girlfriend every other day. She tried to sound like she was in on the joke. "Aren't you a world-renowned bachelor with women begging to be your wife?"

He nodded as if proud. "Yes, but I want a wife with a head on her shoulders who doesn't expect my love or devotion."

The air in the room felt thinner. He was serious. She let out a sigh. "What?"

"To start, I'll pay you $150,000 a year plus living expenses for you to be my wife, and the salary has options for pay increases over time."

Her pulse raced so fast she wasn't sure how she managed to speak. The position he wanted filled was for his spouse, not a secretary. What duties would a wife perform? "What about children?" Sex?

He riffled through the file and handed her a contract as he pointed to section two, subparagraph four. "Now if you want to negotiate that's fine, but I already stipulated in the contract that I will pay a flat, one-time rate of $500,000 for the first child and then $250,000 for each additional, plus reconstructive surgery for every child produced. If you don't wish to raise any children, I can provide a twenty-four hour nursery."

The words out of his lips were cold, professional and devoid of any feelings. Love might not exist, but marriage was meant to be more than figures in a contract.

One day she had vaguely imagined she'd be a mom and have kids with a husband, dog and a house in the suburbs, but she wasn't sure. In those moments, she never once imagined herself as some princess in a castle in a country she couldn’t pronounce. She met his stare and for once she didn’t melt. "I’d want to raise my own children."

He held her gaze and that speck of green mesmerized her. "Would you like this job, Kristin?"

He made it sound like he was asking her to be part of his company, rather than sleep at his side for the rest of her life. Her heart pounded. Antonio would be hers. Her fingers ached to touch him, but she folded her hands in her lap. For him, this was business. Could it be for her, too? "It's a lot of money."

He nodded. "You’re my top candidate. What would you need from me to close the deal?"

Life as a royal would be surreal and the only thing she could compare it to was a movie because honestly things like this didn’t happen in real life. “Is this a trick?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why did you interview me like this, for a job?”

“What people are like on paper and in person can be very different. I wanted an escape clause, but now that I’ve met you I see you are exactly what I expected.”

Her body stirred, but she deferred giving her answer. "I don’t want to read every day that you're sleeping around."

She doubted a contract meant he’d be faithful, which was another reason to run out of this room. Public ridicule was not her forte. Run, right now.

"Discretion is a necessary component in my life and I'd never publicly humiliate my family."

Raised with old-fashioned values on a Kansas farm, her parents hadn’t loved one another. Kristin had vivid memories of sitting at the kitchen table when neither of them spoke a word to each other directly, using her as a go-between to pass the butter. They’d stayed together because they’d made a promise to God, and not because they were happy.

Every silent day slowly killed them.

After their deaths, she’d sold the farm and moved to the city, betraying those values. She yearned for a different life, filled with hope, but if she went and married Antonio, for wealth and security rather than working for it, there would be no redemption for her from heaven above.

Now it was time to ask the ultimate question. Each second dragged. She stared into his brown eyes, noting his regal nose and thick, dark hair. To be in his arms might be like tasting heaven itself—she couldn’t let attraction rule her. She folded her hands over her knee to maintain control. Perhaps he meant that she’d go to a doctor for insemination? Anything was possible. "Would these children be created from our union?"

He leaned close and she got a hint of almond and testosterone. "Union is a nice way of talking about sex."

She blinked, her body warming as she imagined them in bed. "Sex is important."

As if he hadn’t expected her to agree, he sat back—breaking the spell. "Yes it is, and yes, it would be included in the contract." He then pointed to the paper in her hand. "Attraction is not love. I want that made clear. This will not be a love match."

Secretary, wife, or go back to her desk job where nothing ever happened. Kristin tucked the strand of her French twist that had fallen out of the clip behind her ear. "How many other women have you offered this to?"

He pulled out another piece of paper from the folder. "I put the ad for a secretary out world-wide. Then I had all-inclusive background checks done on every applicant. You are my first and only choice at the moment."

She was the only? Seriously? She wasn't royal; her parents had been farmers. She had no family. She didn't know anyone important who could help him in society.

Kristin realized that made her perfect for a serial killer to stalk, not a prince to marry. "Why?"

He studied her paperwork. "Because, Kristin, you’re smart, you have no family to tie you down, your only trusted friend is your roommate, Renee. You’re in debt for over $100,000 in student loans, you owe $15,000 for your car and $200,000 for your condo. My offer means you can pay these off in less than three years without racking up more debt and since you’ve worked from the age of eight years old for your father in the stables, you understand a job is a job."

It really did come down to dollars and cents. He’d read her application and her problems in life like a spreadsheet. She adjusted her eyeglasses and focused on him. "So, I could have been anyone?"

He raised two fingers on his right hand as a “no” gesture. "You are also attractive. That was a requirement for me."

Reconstructive surgery in the contract should have given that away her brain shouted, but her heart whispered that she was overly cynical and that the man adored on multiple continents for his charm and good looks thought she was pretty. She was sure she blushed. "Two things."

He leaned forward and put his hands together. "What?"

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the contract from the desk. "I'll need twenty-four hours to decide."

"Fair enough. And two?"

This one was for her silly heart. She had to know, if they were going to share a bed, a life, the truth. If there was nothing, no spark, she couldn’t go through with it. She stood and Antonio stood with her. The contract fell onto her chair, but her hands shook too much to even try to pick it up. She pushed her hair out of her face and then said, "I'll need you to kiss me now. If I don’t feel anything then this will never work."

The guttural sound he made from his throat told her he approved and he wrapped his hands around her waist. Her body felt warm as butter melting on a summer day. Her eyelids fluttered as she waited for his touch. He said, "We're clear that our union is business and not love?"

She opened her eyes and met his. She had always sworn she could take care of herself and wouldn’t marry someone she couldn’t respect enough to talk to everyday. Love wasn’t a factor. "Abundantly."

Closing her eyes again, she felt his lips inches from her mouth. "Then here..."

His kiss set her heart soaring. She held onto his shoulders to stay steady, but her foot lifted off the ground as if she might float away. His lips crushed hers in a soul-searching sweep of passion and she joined him in some place that must be heaven itself. No boy had ever come close to that kiss.

Once his lips left hers, Kristin used the desk behind her to hold herself upright.

If she left, she’d never have another kiss like that. If she stayed, she couldn’t honor her parents’ wishes that she marry someone who shared their manual labor, hard-working values. But they had been so unhappy. If she said yes, she might experience more of whatever had just sparked between her and Prince Antonio—she was sure her parents had never felt anything like that for each other.

Antonio read his watch. "See you tomorrow at 5 PM? Meet me here with your answer." He took his file and walked toward the door they’d come in and opened it for her.

"I’ll be here, Your Highness."