Unfortunately for Dominic, the weather the next day was nothing like the sunny day before. The rain was pelting down around his castle and the thick fog had made it impossible for his pilot to take off. He had to send his limousine to pick up Marianne from “Charles De Gaulle” airport.

The massive, steel door of his castle slowly slid upward, before his black Mercedes entered the driveway. Thierry, his elderly driver got out and moved around the car. He opened Marianne’s door, as Dominic watched from the entrance of his hall. Despite the torrential rain, the young blonde took a moment to gaze at her surroundings. She looked up at the crenellations and then down at the grey, stone walls, as Thierry opened a black umbrella and held it over her. What really grabbed her attention was the extensive rose garden to her left. She even pointed at it, as a broad smile lit up her face. Unwilling to wait for her in the comfort of his hall, Dominic stepped outside, as his driver and Marianne started towards the entrance. As they came closer, he realized that she looked a lot better up close. She couldn’t have been taller than 5’6”, but he marveled at her soaking wet, curly hair, as she pushed it back from her face. Marianne smiled with her large doe-like eyes, as he sauntered towards her.

“Merci, Thierry.” Dominic said, glancing at his driver, as they stopped in front of him. Then, he reached out and took her hand in his. Bending down, he closed his eyes and kissed it. “Charmed,” He spoke in his baritone, as a polite smile spread across his face.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your highness.” Marianne said in a very sweet voice as she returned the smile.

“Why don’t you follow me inside?” He suggested. “How was your trip?”

“It was very long, but pleasant, thank you.” She maintained, as they walked into the spacious hall. Just like earlier, she looked around her, at the portrait-lined walls and up at the high ceilings. “Fine lines, vivid colors, great depth … brilliant work.”

“Thank you.” Dominic smirked, tossing a log into the fireplace.

“You…”

“That’s right. Those paintings are all mine.” He affirmed, seating himself on the couch, as her face loosened in utter disbelief. “Have a seat. You must be tired.”

“Thanks.” Marianne spoke in a faint voice, sitting across from him. “I have a few too many questions, sir.”

“Could you please stop calling me ‘sir’?” He politely requested. “You make me feel like an old man. You can call me ‘Dominic’.”

“Okay.” She drew in a sharp breath. “Dominic, I’m a little confused. I mean, I’d never heard of a king in the Alps, until your men knocked on my door. You can imagine my surprise, when they told me he’s actually an American.”

“My father was American.” He heaved a long, deep sigh. “He died, six years ago. It’s true, most people don’t know we exist, but my family is way older than Prince Albert’s. Our roots can be traced back to the Byzantine years.”

“Prince Albert is from Monaco.” Marianne pointed out, a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “I still don’t understand why you’re living in the mountain.”

“You did notice the emblem on the gate, didn’t you?” Dominic answered her question with a question.

“Yes: two howling wolves, separated by a line fire.” She replied, “It’s very impressive.”

“Wolves don’t live in the city. They belong in the wild, just like my family, Miss Brewster.” He attempted a commanding tone. “My forefathers were rough men. They were tough enough to call the Alps ‘home’.”

“I’m sorry.” Marianne uttered, rolling her gaze down his face. “I meant no disrespect.”

“I wasn’t offended.” Dominic made his voice sound friendlier. “I was just clearing something up. What do you like about the city, Miss Brewster: the noise; the traffic; or is it the foul smells?”

“It’s just a little more human, that’s all.” She shrugged, as her eyes shot up to meet his gaze.

“I’m the one who needs to apologize.” He spoke, a touch of sadness in his voice as the leaping flames reflected off her eyes. “You’re exhausted and I’m giving you a lecture about my ancestors.”

“No, don’t mention it.” Marianne smiled, waving her hand in front of her face. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about them. It’s just a little strange for someone to want to live in the middle of God knows where, you know?”

“Like I said, not for me,” Dominic muttered, as his full lips curled into a gentle smile. “Anyway, you should go get some rest. My housekeeper Josephine will show you to your room. Before you go, I need to ask you something.”

“Please do.” She nodded.

“My friend Jean says you’re an author. Melanie, his fiancée, loves your book. Why were the sales so bad?” His question froze the smile on her face. Marianne’s eyes darkened, as she dropped her gaze to the floor.

“I’d rather not answer that,” she said, her voice faint as she rose from her seat. “I’ll see you later.”

Dominic would have loved to insist, yet he was so stunned by her reaction that he could not force another word out of his throat. He watched, as Marianne turned around and headed towards the front door. Her slow pace was something else that puzzled him even more. She practically dragged her feet across the floor, the click-clacking of her heels echoing back at the walls of the hall. It was as if his words had reminded her of a very painful moment, one that hurt her too much to discuss.

Now, what the hell was that all about?” He thought to himself. “A few minutes ago, she was walking proud. Now, all I see is a battered dog with her tail tucked in between her legs. What happened to you, Marianne? Why did you look so sad? I need to ask Melanie about this.