Renee, secure in Marco’s arms, danced at Kristin’s wedding. Her best friend's ceremony had been a blur of activity. Renee pretty much did whatever the queen commanded, and it wasn’t until they were all at the altar that she’d finally met the other brother, Lucio. Antonio was too severe for her taste. Lucio seemed too brooding. Marco with that smile of his that made the room illuminate was the most handsome one in the family, by far.

He twirled her around the marble dance floor, music from a quartet on stage playing, a crush of local royals as well as special friends of the family in attendance. The slow song ended and he swept her into a dark alcove.

A sigh escaped her lips and she kissed him.

If only every day could be as perfect as this.

Marco danced them back into the crowd where she knew people talked about them. She didn't care that people took her picture. So what if her parents saw that she was with Marco? Their opinions no longer mattered. The country club life was not for her, anyway, no matter what happened with Marco, and she was glad she’d come to that realization before she’d made a terrible mistake.

Marco twirled her and she tipped her head back and laughed with pure joy.

He was everything she could ever want, all wrapped up in one amazing body. Now she just had to believe that he might one day love her.

Renee had to trust him. Earlier, he’d referred to her as his American girlfriend to the World Press.

The song changed to a faster beat. Marco's hands shifted from her waist and palm to her shoulder. Queen Anna Camilla stood at her seat, which was more like a small throne next to the king, and the music stopped.

Marco directed her toward his family that all sat at a table much grander than everyone else’s and they stood behind his mother who held the king's hand. "In an almost unanimous vote, we are grateful that the people of Avce have decided to allow us to continue. We look forward to the future, where our family continues to bless and offer blessings in return."

"I told you the people in our country approve of my family," Marco whispered. He held her in front of him, with his arms wrapped around hers. "The threat was from the outside and I'm working full time to ensure no one else harms our family."

"I believe you." Renee smiled as more people took pictures of them. Once the flash of lights ended, she saw that her friend beamed from happiness next to her new husband. "Kristin and Antonio seem so happy. I'm glad we came here for her to find true love."

"True love is rare." He turned her toward him and she glanced up to meet his gaze, while still in his arms. "Why don't we go change out of these clothes? Throw on a pair of jeans. I want to take you sailing tonight, just you and me."

"Sounds awesome." She pointed to her blue Christian Louboutin heels. "Flats will be nice."

"Come." While his family was occupied with answering questions, he led her toward a back door where the warm night air tickled her skin from outside though they were simply in the foyer. "Meet me by the stairs in ten minutes."

"Fifteen." She shook her head but stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "It's going to take me three minutes just to reach my room in these shoes."

"Hurry." He kissed her forehead. The warmth of his breath made her knees weak. She turned to head up the stairs, but he yanked her back into his arms. He captured her lips in a claiming kiss.

Last night, on the roof, he’d claimed every inch of her body and now she ached to have him again.

A laugh in the distance broke their spell. He reluctantly released her and she made her way to the first step. Their gaze never parted. In the next step, she'd lose sight of him. Near the turn, she winked and hurried around the dark corner. Out of his sight, she slipped off her heels, held them in her hand and rushed up the steps.

Near her door, she hummed the last song they’d danced to as she walked into her room. If Marco was in love with her then there was no way she'd ever leave. How could she turn her back on a chance at true love?

She closed the door behind her, dreaming, dancing, and flipped the light on. Her eyes adjusted and she screamed.

Her maid, Anise, in her black uniform, her usual bun completely wrecked, was tied to the chair and Renee's clothes were everywhere—her room had been ransacked. Renee couldn't breathe. Every cell in her body wanted to run away, but she threw her high heels on the floor and rushed inside to help Anise. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Renee untied the knots of thin rope keeping Anise captive on the cushioned bench. Her wrists had been tied behind her back and her ankles together.

Anise rubbed her red wrist. "There is a note, miss."

Her heart was racing, but she picked up the paper with her name on it.

She read it aloud. "No more Americans in our country. Leave now if you want to live." Renee hugged the paper to her chest. This was too much. Her brain couldn't process the situation. But she was smart—and standing in front of rowdy high school kids had taught her to bluff confidence.

"Are you all right, Anise?"

Her maid nodded once, her face pale.

"What did they look like?"

"I didn’t see anybody."

Renee selected jeans and a t-shirt. She'd bring the note to Marco. There wasn’t a 911 to call within the palace.

Anise began tidying the room, picking up clothes and shoes. "Don't," Renee said. "I want Marco and the guard to see what happened."

"Yes, miss. Of course. I'm not thinking straight right now." Anise straightened her spine. "I'd like to take a break."

"Go. Tell your family you're okay—I will send Marco or General Babik to question you—you don’t have to stay." Renee put on her Givenchy ballet shoes. "I’m glad you weren’t hurt."

Anise left and Renee tossed her clothes on and ran out the door to find Marco.

Perhaps her father was right and she needed to find a guy that was stable and down to earth. Marco was from a different universe and right now she felt their worlds didn’t mesh. Home and hearth were more important than glitter and designer clothes. She raced down the stairs again, holding the railing to keep steady.

Marco had said to meet him in fifteen minutes, and twenty had passed. He’d understand once she showed him the note in her hand. He'd know what to do.

Halfway down the stairs, she took a sharp corner and literally ran into Greg.

He slipped back, but clutched the banner to keep from falling backward.

"Sorry!"

"It’s fine. Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Greg had just survived being a target so he was the only person in the world who must have felt remotely this way. Threatened in a foreign country. He smiled at her and slipped his hands in his pockets. "Kristin's wedding was beautiful. I'm glad I was here for it."

"Are you?" The image of a bomb strapped around his body replayed in her mind. She'd be in the psychologist's office trying to make the images stop if she was in his shoes. "I don't see how you can be so chill. You almost died yesterday."

She’d not mention he had a thing for Kristin as that seemed rude.

Greg shrugged, like he hadn't a care in the world. "The royal family has been nice to me. I'm on the way to get my bags and head to the airport to go home and see my mom."

"You're going home?" Renee's mind flashed with possibilities. If she was in her apartment, safe in Miami, no one would try to hurt her. No one would care who she was to threaten her—here, as Marco’s girlfriend, she was vulnerable. Her bed and her fluffy slippers that Kristin always made fun of were like a beacon of light. Home. White walls, art posters.

Greg pointed in the opposite direction and placed his hand on her back, to hug her goodbye. "My flight leaves soon. Antonio Aussa lent me his personal jet so that I could fly home quickly and in comfort."

She hugged him.

Marco's waiting arms called to her, but the threatening note insisted she leave. It was time she followed that. Her life wasn't that bad as a teacher—she had her own money, her independence, and she made a difference to some of the kids. She took a deep breath, hugged her waist, and asked, "Greg, can I go with you? I don't want to be here anymore."

"Sure." He took the first step in the opposite direction of where she intended. He had no idea, but she followed while he said, "The car's out front."

Right. With the wedding celebration still happening, Marco’s family wouldn't stop her. The harsh reality was that Marco had only ever been a dream—even her mother had said Renee was not cut out to be a princess. She and Marco were not destined for forever. It was time to run home. She nodded and followed Greg in the opposite direction.

Her mind painted the vivid picture of Marco, in jeans and a light sweater, waiting near the door to the veranda that led down to the river. For her. Her stomach tightened with regret.

She slipped the paper into the back pocket of her jeans and walked with Greg. It was better to let Marco remember her in her bridesmaid’s dress, gorgeous and kissing him with unbridled passion, because for the rest of her life, she'd remember him in his black tuxedo, leading her gracefully around the dance floor.