“You just took my measurements, so we both know this isn’t my size.” Jessica held the dark blue spandex one piece in front of her in the mirror of a changing room. She regretted having already handed her clothing over the partitioned door. “At best it will fit my leg.”
“The material stretches,” Simone, the woman who had earlier that morning introduced herself as Jessica’s personal liaison for the duration of the conference, reassured her. Despite the fact that Simone looked like she was in her early sixties, she was thin and fit. Jessica doubted she understood her distress.
Is a million dollars worth dressing like a lumpy superhero for a day? Jessica was tempted to ask if refusing to wear it would get her sent home, but considering that attendance at breakfast that morning had been only a third of the number that had been at dinner, Jessica was pretty certain it would be. Gritting her teeth, she stepped into the outfit. It did stretch, but molded to her curves like a wetsuit. The bottoms ended mid-thigh and accentuated her wide hips. The tight tank top flattened her less-than-ample chest. She turned sideways and frowned at how it did not flatten her stomach. Doesn’t that figure?
She turned back and made a face at her reflection. I’m not perfect, but I don’t have to be. Beautiful. Ugly. Frigid virgin. Wanton slut. They’re all labels society wants to place on me, but I refuse to accept them. She raised her chin. And if His Royal “I’m a Prince and I’ll have the final say” eliminates me because my ass could be smaller and my breasts are real, there is nothing I can do about it. Beautiful doesn’t mean we’re all the same. She’d given a similar pep talk to many women over the past few years, but even a confident woman’s mettle could be tested by spandex.
“What’s the first challenge?” Jessica asked the silhouette of the woman on the other side of the door.
“It will be explained to you at the proper time.”
Trying to cheer herself up, she forced a smile. On the positive side, since no one has their phones, at least I know I won’t show up on YouTube.
With one final fortifying deep breath, she walked out of the changing room with her head held high. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She looked around, half wishing she’d see some of the other women similarly dressed. She didn’t. Simone motioned for her to follow.
I never imagined I’d write a blog that anyone would want to read, but I did. I never thought I could make it profitable, but I did that, too. I can do this.
My body is beautiful and so am I.
As they walked through the hotel, Jessica noted the staff members who walked past them. “Is the entire hotel staff female?”
Without missing a step, Simone answered, “This week, yes.”
“Because of the conference?” Jessica asked, only half serious when she did.
“Yes.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Simone glanced over her shoulder with a serious expression. “There will only be three men at the hotel this week. Prince Ballasare, his advisor, and Heinrich.”
“Who is Heinrich?”
“Whoever he says he is, Miss Quincy.”
Jessica laughed, but sobered when she realized Simone didn’t join in. “Is your country dangerous for women?”
“Dangerous?” Simone paused and looked momentarily confused.
It was a question that had plagued her as she’d lain awake staring at the ceiling the night before. She was trying to stay positive about the conference, but upon returning to her room she’d started to wonder if there was more going on than was being said.
When she’d checked into the hotel she’d been asked to leave her passport at the front desk. Jessica hadn’t traveled out of the United States before, but she was fairly certain that wasn’t normal. The phone in her room only worked for calls within the hotel, and relinquishing her own phone had been a condition of staying.
Why?
Two thirds of the women from the night before had been sent home, but there had been no announcement of who had gone or why. No proof that they had actually left the country. Now I sound paranoid. Of course they were sent home. Do I honestly think we were brought here as some kind of weird slave trade? Ridiculous. No one would invite Miss Universe if they were going to make us disappear. They would have chosen unknown women, without families.
Then why take our phones? And why remove all men from the hotel staff?
“It’s just that we aren’t allowed to leave the hotel unescorted, and now it seems like we’re being kept separate from the entire male population. I’m wondering why.”
“Most would not have an interest in meeting men beyond the prince.”
“I don’t. I’m here to win the million dollars.”
“And to improve your life.”
Isn’t that the same thing? “Yes.”
“Tell me, what did your parents think of you coming here without them?”
The mention of her parents brought a smile to Jessica’s face. “My father wanted to come, but my mother convinced him that having him hovering over me would not help me win.”
“He worries for you; that’s the sign of a good father.”
Jessica raised and lowered a shoulder. “He wasn’t always overprotective, but he feels guilty for sending me away to school when I was young. I didn’t do well on my own. I don’t blame him. He thought it was best for me and that I might thrive if surrounded by children who were more like me. I didn’t.”
Simone didn’t ask what Jessica had meant by children being more like her and that was a relief. Jessica hadn’t meant to share so much. “You’re very close to your parents?”
“Very. If I had my phone I would already have called my mother this morning. She’s my best friend.”
Simone nodded. “You seem like a very nice woman.”
“Thank you,” Jessica said, feeling that the other woman was leading into something she might not want to hear.
Simone clasped her hands in front of her. “And you remind me of my own daughter, Nadine.”
“That’s a good thing, I hope.”
Simone leaned in and lowered her voice. “She fell in love with Farrin right away, but I told her to make him wait. Thankfully, she listened to me, and now I have three beautiful grandchildren, two boys, Philip and Henry, and a little girl, Danielle.”
“That’s wonderful.” And a little bizarre to bring up now.
Simone whispered, “Make the prince wait.” As soon as she said the words, she raised her head, spun away, and began to walk again.
Jessica rushed after her and caught up only when Simone opened an exit door. “Wait for what?”
“No waiting necessary. I’m ready for you now.” Prince Ballasare’s deep voice brought Jessica and her question to an abrupt halt. He was casually dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a blue polo shirt.
And I could not be more exposed, unless of course I was naked. As she often did when she felt uncomfortable, Jessica made a joke. “Darn, I thought we might be in matching outfits.”
“You wear it better.” His eyes slid over her slowly, and Jessica’s skin warmed beneath his gaze. She tried to be offended, but her nipples puckered eagerly and her sex clenched with anticipation. He held out a hand for her to take. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Jessica Quincy.”
She placed her hand in his, and his strong fingers closed around hers. “You, too . . . Prince Demande. . . is that what I call you?”
“My full name is Prince Ballasare Stephan Demande, but you may call me Ballasare.”
“Prince Ballasare?”
“Just Ballasare.” Jessica wondered if women normally passed out at his feet, because when he dipped his head to just above hers she thought she might. Until that moment she’d assumed she had a lower than normal sex drive. Virginity had been an easy choice, and her one attempt at sex had been disappointing. Her blog defending chastity might have never begun had she met anyone who made her feel like this when she was younger. Wet panties? Who knew they were really a thing? Her body was doing a final engine check before offering itself to him.
Head bowed in respect, Simone said, “I’ll wait inside until you summon me to escort Miss Quincy back to her room.”
“Thank you, Simone,” the prince said without looking away from Jessica.
“While waiting I’ll call my daughter, Nadine. My happily married daughter.”
Oh, my God, does she think I’m interested in the prince? Jessica took a step back and shook her head. I wish I could say I’m not. I don’t remember ever wanting to be a princess or dreaming of Prince Charming, but no wonder those tales were written. Sleeping Beauty? I suddenly get it. I used to wonder about her sanity. Falling for a man who kissed her while she slept? I’m not saying I approve, but if she felt the way I do I can at least sympathize.
Which doesn’t mean I need to make an idiot of myself just because he has the kind of thick hair any woman would want to run her hands through. Or because I bet he tastes as yummy as he looks.
“Are you ready?” he asked in a soft growl.
“More than I should be,” she answered then blushed. “I mean, yes, ready to prove myself.” She squared her shoulders and looked around. “What is the challenge?”
“Scaling this side of the hotel,” he said with a slight curl to his lips.
“Ha. Ha. Seriously, I’m ready.”
“Excellent,” he said and placed his hand on her lower back, ushering her forward. His touch felt good, too good, so she shimmied away from it and fell into pace beside him. Once around the corner of the building, he pointed at the ropes hanging down from the third floor window then picked up a harness from the ground. “Have you ever been rock climbing?”
Is this for real? She took a moment to calculate the height of the window from the ground and the force with which someone of her weight would slam into it if she fell. “No. You?”
“Many times. We have several steep cliffs on our island. One in particular leads down to a stunning beach that is accessible no other way.”
“Have you considered building stairs?” she asked lightly.
He threw back his head and laughed. “I’ve done this fifty times so far today, and you’re the first to make me laugh.”
“Fifty women climbed that glass wall?”
“No, fifty were asked to.”
“How many did it?”
“Ten.”
“How many of those lived?” Stats like that mattered.
He laughed again. “No one was even hurt.”
Promising, but not convincing. “The forty who refused . . . were they sent home?”
“Would that determine your decision?”
“I’d still need more information.” Distracted by the possibility of her imminent death, Jessica was able to ignore the way her body hummed simply because he was standing so close.
“Ask away.”
“Do you provide a helmet and how recently was the glass cleaned?”
He stepped away and returned with a black helmet. “Not much of a risk taker?”
“I prefer to think of myself as an intelligent woman with a healthy survival instinct. Astronauts never shot off into space without calculating where and how they would land, and I’d argue that they risked more than most.”
He nodded. “I agree.”
As she secured the helmet, she said, “I’m considering leaving the conference, even if you don’t ask me to.” She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but standing so close to him was confusing. She didn’t know if the panic rising within her was because of the unorthodox way the competition was being run or because every inch of her wanted to rub up against every inch of him.
One of his eyebrows arched. “Really?”
Yes, really. “I get that the ability to handle the unexpected seems to be important to you, but I’m concerned.”
“About what?” His voice was a purr so delicious she briefly forgot what she’d been saying.
“What?”
“What are you uncomfortable with?” His mouth hovered above hers as his smoldering eyes held hers. There was a fire in his eyes that brought to mind a word she’d once read in a romance novel and laughed at: smoulder. That word made sense to her now. There was a heat in his gaze that warmed her skin.
“Uncomfortable?” Stop.
He probably looks at all the women that way. It means nothing.
“You won’t leave.” The sudden humor in his smile hit her like a slap.
She stepped a foot away from him. “I should.” She waved in reference of her outfit. “This outfit, for example. You wouldn’t ask a man to wear it.”
He smiled shamelessly. “You are correct. I would not.”
“What would have happened had I refused to?”
“Some women did.”
She wasn’t surprised. “Are they still here?”
“How would either possible answer affect what you do now?”
Jessica’s hands went to her hips. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“What?”
“Answer questions with a question. It’s not fair.”
He raised a hand and lightly caressed her cheek. “Americans. You think the world is fair? That all of it plays by your rules? You’re so naïve. This is my country. My domain. My rules.”
She whipped her face away from him even as desire sliced through her. In a husky voice she barely recognized as her own, she said, “Wow, good to know you didn’t let generations of being in power go to your head.”
He coughed as if holding back a laugh. “Fifty women so far, and you’re the first to insult me,” he said.
Jessica raised her chin. “I find that surprising.”
Both of his eyebrows arched in surprise then he let out a deep laugh. When he stopped he cocked his head to one side and asked, “So shy in some ways. So bold in others. I’m curious. Will you try the climb?”
I’ve come this far—I might as well. “Yes, but on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“One: you go first so I see that it’s safe. Two: you don’t rush me because I’ve never been really good at climbing anything. And three: if you laugh at me I might slap you.”
“That’s three conditions.”
“Actually two and a warning.”
“What do you imagine would happen if you raised a hand to me?” There was a flash of something in his eyes. He leaned closer and the air between them sizzled with a sexual tension. This is how I always imagined it could be.
Jessica swallowed hard.
Dangerous.
Delicious.
Her mind and body battled. She should have been afraid, but she had a feeling she might enjoy his choice of punishment. They stood there, both breathing raggedly, in a standoff of sorts. She blinked first. “I would never actually hit anyone.”
“I know.” The smug slant to his smile challenged her claim. Her hands clenched at her sides.
Prince Ballasare adjusted the harness to his size and donned it for the first time that day. He caught his reflection in the glass on the side of the building and was surprised to see he was smiling. Jessica Quincy was not his usual type, but the attraction he’d felt for her was instant and heady. Some of the remaining women might be considered more classically beautiful, but Jessica stood out among them. Her response to the first challenge was better than any he’d seen that day. He’d reread her file the night before. Her IQ was off the chart, yet she didn’t flaunt it. She was attractive without being vain. She neither obeyed without question nor rebelled for the sake of it.
So far she had all the qualities he was looking for in a wife.
And she’d made him laugh. That had been unexpected. His responsibility to his country, his people, his family all weighed on him daily and even his family considered him serious by nature. He’d been raised with the knowledge that the very future of Rubare Virgina rested firmly on his shoulders and had embraced the honor. A wife was a political need rather than physical requirement if he were honest.
To have a wife, though, who might bring the release of laughter to their shared life was as enticing as the vision of her in his bed. There was no doubt he would enjoy introducing her to the pleasures of the flesh, but if a marriage was built on lust alone every man would marry his first lover. A wife needed to be more, especially if she was to be queen. She would bear his children, influence the thinking of the next rulers of their island, and be a role model for the women of his country.
His dick had already voted for her. His head was leaning in her direction. The future king in him would not rush the process. Choosing her was only the first step. The approval of his parents would be simple enough to get, but the Arcano also needed to agree with his choice.
He needed to be sure. Royal engagements were their own contract of sorts. Once announced, calling it off would not be possible—for either of them—without ugly consequences. Since it had never been done, he had no idea what exactly they would be, but Theo was right to say that it was a dangerous time to find out. Although he’d outwardly dismissed Theo’s worries, Ballasare knew they were valid.
He used a combination of specially designed suction cups and a rope to maneuver up the glass until he reached the open window. Once there, he pushed off and rappelled down. He’d sent women home who had successfully made it to the window, and he’d kept some who hadn’t tried to scale the wall at all. The actual climb had never been the focus of the test.
Still, he wanted Jessica to conquer the wall. He liked the idea of giving her confidence where she was uncertain. When he unclipped the harness, he walked toward her and liked the way she stood her ground. She was nervous, but she looked ready to do the climb anyway. Her courage was seductive.
He held out the harness for her to step into. She lifted a leg and placed a hand on one of his shoulders to balance. His skin burned beneath her touch and pink flooded her cheeks. She feels it, too. “See, not so difficult.”
The back of his hand brushed against her stomach and her nipples hardened visibly beneath the tight material. He fought the urge to bend his head and suck each of those nubs into his mouth, to circle them with the tip of his tongue and tease them with his teeth. His cock strained in the confines of his shorts. When his eyes raised to hers he saw passion there, too, and he couldn’t hold back any longer. His mouth claimed and plundered hers. She opened her mouth to him and gave herself over to the kiss.
The intensity of the kiss rocked him onto his heels. When he’d imagined teaching her how to please him as well as herself, he hadn’t considered that he might learn from her. Her tongue met his timidly and the way it scrambled his thoughts was an entirely new experience. He never lost control, but this woman brought out a primal response that shocked him. He wanted her right then, right there, regardless of the consequences.
It was only when his hand closed over her breast that she protested. She tore her mouth from his and tried to step away. He held her against him, unwilling to break the connection.
“What are you doing?” she asked raggedly.
“I don’t know.” It was the best he could come up with when all of his blood was rushing away from his brain and down to his dick. He wasn’t a reckless man, but had anyone threatened war if he didn’t release her, he would have said, “Bring it on.”
“Let me go,” she said, her voice as raw as he felt.
“You are one remarkable woman, Jessica.”
She pushed at his chest. “Did you say the same to the first fifty women?”
Pleasure filled him at the realization that she was jealous of the other women. Good. It matched his desire to declare that no other man would ever touch her. Still, he couldn’t resist responding, “None of them were named Jessica.”
She glared up at him. “You are such a—”
His told himself to stop smiling, but he couldn’t help himself. “A what?”
“Arrogant jerk. There I said it. I don’t care if it gets me sent home.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
She closed her eyes and groaned. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I can only imagine what you think of me.”
“Can you?” he murmured near her ear, enjoying how flustered she was.
Her eyes snapped open. “Yes, but I’m not like that.”
“With the right instruction, you would be,” he said just to get out a rise out of her. Her mouth opened then shut, and this time when she struggled he let her go. Although he could have easily spent the day with her, he still had twenty more women to meet. There would be time to explore how she made him feel later. He nodded toward the rope. “Go on. You know you want to prove you can do it.”
Jessica spun away from him and attached her harness to the rope. Once again, he was aware of her intelligence. She watched carefully. She’s cautious but wise to avoid being reckless or place herself in danger. As if she’d done it many times before, she released and attached the suction cups in the same manner he had. Impressive.
Her back was tight with anger, but that was easy to forget when his view of her became mostly the underside of her gorgeously rounded ass. The outfit hadn’t been his idea. It has been his brother Robert who had thought it was hilarious, but Ballasare had kept it. It was absolutely over the top and inappropriate, but how each woman responded to the request to wear it was fascinating. Some had flat-out refused. Some had cried. Some had used it as a chance to flaunt their bodies before him. Unlike the request that they bow their head when he spoke to the large group, refusing to wear the spandex outfit had no bearing on whether they stayed or were asked to leave.
He was reminded of when his cousins from Rubare Collina had come for a visit with his six-year-old cousin, Beatrice. She’d wanted a pony to ride but she had no experience with them. His father had taken Ballasare with him to the barn and instructed him to pull too hard on the reins, kick the sides of the ponies for no reason, and to fall off. At ten, Ballasare had been proud of his riding ability and hadn’t wanted to look as if he didn’t know how to ride. He was also quite fond of the ponies he’d grown up with and didn’t like the idea of mistreating them. His father had said something that Ballasare had carried with him to adulthood. “Don’t judge any creature by their best day. Their true character only appears when their comfort is challenged. A man who smiles at you each day on the street might kill you for a loaf of bread during hard times. Before your young cousin rides any pony, we will test its darker side.”
Ballasare was applying that philosophy to his hunt for a wife. On paper all of the women who had come to the conference were equally qualified. He and his people had used every social media form to choose only the best. They were all intelligent, beautiful women. When put into uncomfortable situations, though, short tempers and insecurities were quickly being revealed.
Only one had impressed him.
Jessica had presented both the courage to wear the ridiculous outfit and the bravado to lecture him for asking her to do so. Their kiss had been hot as hell, but there was an innocence to her as well. She was thoughtful in her approach to situations. A woman like that could be taught to successfully navigate complicated political waters. Perfect.
And my brothers said this would never work. Niccolino had declared the elaborate, staged conference unnecessary and more than a little nuts, but they didn’t need to marry in less than six months. They still had plenty of time to find wives. Ballasare had been busy ensuring his country profited from the rare ores found only in that region. He’d taken the wealth his father had amassed and along with his brothers and tripled it, thinking only of securing the future for his family and his country. He’d had always assumed he’d meet someone naturally, but since that hadn’t happened, he’d decided to approach the issue as he would any problem at work—efficiently, systematically.
Jessica reached the window, shot him a triumphant smile then rappelled down looking unfazed by the newness of it. When she was back on the ground, she released the rope, stepped out of the harness and dropped it at his feet. He was about to say something when she raised her hand to silence him. Her chest rose and fell quickly, hinting that she was not as calm as she let on. “Don’t kiss me again.” She walked away with her head held high in true princess fashion.