16. DANTE

“Your Highness, if you would be so kind?”

“Hm?”

Carlo’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, his knobby finger pointing at my hand. I look at it and realize my fingers are drumming noisily on the glass tabletop. My coffee cup vibrates in time with my tapping.

“Sorry,” I sigh.

“Quite all right, sir. I feel the same way myself.”

Maria messaged thirty minutes ago that she was bringing Amanda – and her answer – to my private chambers. They’re still not here. The coffee is my fourth one this morning. I didn’t even go to bed last night, let alone fall asleep.

“What if she says no?” I blurt. Not very princely of me.

“Then we deal with the situation some other way, as we always have. Morova shall endure.”

Morova shall endure. How many times have I heard that in the twenty years since Carlo broke the news to me that my parents had been killed? I sometimes wonder if he thinks I am Morova.

I hear a knock at the door and have to restrain myself from leaping out of my chair.

“Come in,” I say, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

Maria ushers Amanda into the room and my breath catches in my throat: she’s wearing an impeccable Donna Karan suit, white jacket with a high-waisted belt and a form-fitting black skirt that ends at her knee. It accentuates her curves and highlights those ice-blue eyes.

She’s breathtaking. Sexy, yet understated. Most important, she looks regal. Like a proper princess. My heart soars.

“You look stunning,” I breathe. “Does this mean…?”

Amanda fixes me with a look that says I should stop talking.

“Maria has explained all the details of the agreement to me,” she says. “And I accept the offer.”

I’ve never really given any thought to how a woman might react if I proposed; I certainly never imagined it would end with her saying “I accept the offer,” like she’s signing a business deal.

But that’s exactly what this is, isn’t it? Was I expecting her to jump into my arms and squeal, “Yes!” after the way I “proposed”?

Oh, come on, Dante. Royals have been forced into marriages of convenience for eons. Why should yours be any different?

“Thank you.” I can’t think of anything else to say.

I gaze into her eyes for a moment, but I don’t see any of the passion that was there in the gardens.

“Let’s talk about compensation,” she says. “You said I could name my price?”

“Anything within my power,” I say. “That was the deal.”

I motion for us all to sit. Amanda crosses her legs primly. She knows all the royal protocols already, probably better than I do.

Carlo reaches out and takes Amanda’s hand.

“Morova is in your debt, ma’am. Your actions will have long-ranging benefits for our entire nation, small as it is.”

Amanda smiles warmly. “I told you, Carlo, call me Amanda.”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” he says. “As I’ve told the prince many times, I won’t use familiar language with the royal family.”

She looks at me. I smile and shrug.

“Better get used to it,” I say.

“Back to compensation,” Maria says, killing the mood instantly. “Amanda laid out her terms to me earlier. I found them to be more than fair. Maybe too fair, in fact.”

I raise my eyebrows to Amanda. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ll let Maria go over them,” she says, avoiding my gaze.

“I didn’t even need to write them down,” says Maria. “They’re quite simple. First, you offer Amanda’s father, Isaac, five million American dollars from your personal fortune in return for her hand.”

“The proper term is bride price,” Amanda says. “It’s traditionally been a symbolic gesture to show the groom’s debt to the bride’s family.”

Five million dollars? That’s less than a tenth of one percent of my wealth, in return for single-handedly saving my family from ruin.

“Done,” I say. “What else?”

“My father can’t know that it’s anything other than an unbreakable Trentini tradition,” she stresses. “I know that bride price is mostly an Asian and Middle Eastern tradition, but he doesn’t, and he never has to find out. It should seem like the most normal thing in the world that you’re giving him the money.”

Her father isn’t the only one who doesn’t know anything about bride price; I’ve never heard of it, either. Having Amanda by my side will be like having a walking Wikipedia of royal history next to me. Beauty, brains, heart – I’ve hit the mother lode with her.

To think I almost started scouring convents for a nun. I have to remember to smack Emilio the next time I see him.

“Of course,” I say. “Next?”

Maria chimes in. “This one doesn’t have to do with money. It’s personal.”

“Name it. As I said, anything within my power.”

Amanda looks at all of us in turn.

“I want to be the one who tells Oriana and Vito that we’re getting married,” she says.

Carlo and Maria both glance at me and then back to Amanda.

“May I ask why?” I say.

“Because I want them to know that they’re important to me. And that they’re part of the process. I want them to feel like this marriage is happening with them, not to them.”

I never would have thought of that, but now that she says it, I realize it’s absolutely the best way to handle this with them. The only way, in fact.

There are serious unplumbed depths to this Montana cowgirl.

“I think it’s an excellent idea,” Maria says, as if expecting me to balk at it.

“As do I,” says Carlo. “Sir.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I say, prompting the first smile from Amanda since she came into the room. It’s like sunrise breaking through a morning fog.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Please, Amanda, it’s I who should thank you. Your sacrifice will save my family. What else do you desire?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing.”

Nothing?

Carlo leans back in his chair and tents his long fingers under his chin.

“Ma’am,” he says. “You do realize that the prince is quite sincere when he says you are welcome to anything your heart desires? The Trentini fortune is vast, and the royal family’s influence reaches around the world.”

“I do realize that,” says Amanda. “But my father taught me to always do the right thing. He never said anything about attaching a price tag to it.”

It would appear Amanda’s depth was a gift from her father.

“I very much look forward to meeting him,” I say.

“I’ll warn you right now, he’s nothing like what you’re used to. He’s anything but sophisticated. He still can’t figure out the point of a salad fork.”

“What did I tell you about sophistication?” Maria says. “It’s no measure of character.”

Amanda chuckles. “Dad has character up to his eyeballs, and he’s pretty tall.”

“And he knows of your decision?” I ask.

“I told him last night. He’s confused, especially about how quickly everything’s happening. But he seems happy for me.”

Maria stands and smooths her skirt.

“Well, then,” she says. “I’ll arrange for the money to be sent to your father’s bank as soon as possible.”

“Not before the wedding,” Amanda says hastily. “I have to have time to tell him about it.”

“Of course.”

The next step is obvious, and the sooner we get it over with, the better.

“Are you prepared to speak with the twins right now?” I ask.

Amanda nods. “No time like the present. Or as Dad would say, git ‘er done.”

I smile. I think I’m going to like Isaac Sparks. The question, of course, is whether he’ll like me.

As we reach the door of my chambers, I stop and take Amanda by the arm.

“You’re sure you want to do this?”

Her eyes betray nothing. Our passion in the gardens was real – at least it was for me – but the outrageous circumstances that have brought us together would overwhelm anyone. I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I forced her into something she didn’t want.

“I’m sure,” she says. “Like I told you before, it’s the right thing to do.”

The right thing to do.

How incredibly romantic. Sigh.