Chapter Seven
He didn't immediately answer. His gaze was searching. "What is my title? Is that what you're asking?"
She shrugged. "Start with what you think is most important."
He leaned back in his chair. "I am Luis."
That was telling. Here was an actual prince who didn't feel that his title or his place as a member of a royal family was the most important thing about himself. This was a story she wanted to hear. "That's it? Just plain Luis?"
"By the technicality of my birth, I am Prince Jose Luis Sergio de Santa Rosa."
Santa Rosa? Madison struggled to remember where she'd heard the name before. It was common enough a name in Texas. She knew of a street, an elementary school, and a housing development with that name. One of her favorites wines was from the Santa Rosa vineyards, and it was a European wine. Was there a connection? "You'll have to help me out there. Where is Santa Rosa?"
"My country is nestled in the mountains between Spain and Portugal." His smile belied a genuine fondness for his homeland. "It is a small principality, quite small by American standards. Certainly not comparable to the great state of Texas, I'm sure. But we have a rich history and hundreds of years of tradition that continues to influence our lives even today."
Something in the way he spoke broke through Madison's defensive attitude. This was a man who was in love. With his country. With his heritage. With tradition. "So your father is a king?" she asked.
He shook his head. "My father died several years ago." A shadow of sadness slipped across Luis' face as quickly as clouds passed over the moon on a dark night.
"I'm sorry." Obviously, she'd hit on a painful subject. She bit her lip, unsure where to direct her questions next. Despite her attraction to the man across from her, he was a virtual stranger.
"He was a good man. My mother passed away when I was a teenager. I miss them both." He took a sip of his champagne before he continued. "My older brother, Alejandro, is the Crown Prince of Santa Rosa."
"What do I call you? Prince Jose? Prince Jose Luis? Your Highness?"
"Not that." He gave a mock shudder. "Please call me Luis."
"So, Luis, do you often go around and pose as royal staff members?" This was perhaps pushing it a bit. After all, she'd mistaken him for one of Prince Nico's drivers initially, but Luis had done nothing to correct her mistake. "And if the priest at the National Cathedral hadn't blown your cover, how long would you have let me go on thinking that you were a regular man?"
He winced. "I guess I deserve that, but I assure you that I didn't set out to deceive you."
Madison cocked her head to the side and studied him. "I'll give you that, but you could have told me who you were."
"And you would have treated me how exactly?" His gaze was challenging. "You keep referring to the fact that I'm not a regular man." His gaze trailed over her face, lingering on her lips before returning to lock onto her eyes. "And that is something you are wrong about, Madison. Very wrong indeed."
The intensity of Luis' gaze made it impossible for Madison to look away. "I realize that."
A satisfied smile settled on his lips. "Good. Now, in answer to your second question, if the priest hadn't 'blown my cover' as you Americans say, I would have happily spent an entire day in your company without you knowing that I am a prince. Would you like to know why?"
"I think the 'why' is pretty obvious."
Luis raised an eyebrow. "Enlighten me."
Madison drew in a deep fortifying breath. "It amused you to pretend to be someone like me."
"Someone like you?"
She nodded. "Yes, someone who works for a living." She took a sip of her champagne. "I think it must have amused you to no end to hear me wonder about Giovanni the sculptor, about whether he was a working man who labored all day and returned to his family every night, grateful to have work."
"No, you are wrong." Luis leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What I find absolutely fascinating is how you assume that because I am a member of a royal family, that I don't work. Because I can assure that I do work, very hard in fact."
"You do?" She didn't even try to hide her surprise. "Doing what exactly? Vacationing in Monterra?"
She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth because Luis drew back as if he'd been slapped across the face. "I'm sorry." She reached out to touch his hand. "That sounded horribly unkind. Not to mention judgmental. Forgive me."
Luis' words came out in a calm, measured tone. "It's nothing I haven't heard before."
"That makes it all the worse then." Madison squeezed his hand. "I wish I could take it back."
"You can't, but perhaps it can help you understand why I did what I did when you saw me by the Royal Lodge's gate and assumed I was your assigned driver." His thumb ever so gently caressed the back of her hand as he spoke. "The sight of you took my breath away. Perhaps it was selfish but when I realized that you didn't know who I was, I wanted nothing more than to be with you. As myself. As Luis, not Prince Luis. I am guilty of that, yes. However, my intention was never to deceive you." He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across of it. "It is I who must beg your forgiveness."
The effect of Luis' kiss was so heady that Madison felt as if she was hearing everything he was saying through a several second time delay. "There's nothing to forgive. But there is something I need to understand."
"Of course, ask me anything."
Madison waved her hand around the luxuriously appointed private jet. "What is all of this? Why are we here instead of at the Royal Lodge having dinner?" She paused. "Wait, where are we even going?"
"Monaco." He glanced at his watch. "We should be landing very soon actually."
"Monaco?" Madison repeated. Monaco? Really? Dinner in Monterra wasn't enough and now they had to jet off to a different principality?
She was saved from giving a voice to the question when the flight attendant approached them. "Pardon me, Your Royal Highness, but the captain has asked that we prepare for landing. If you'd both be so kind as to secure your seatbelts?"
After Madison fastened her seatbelt, she stared out through the small window and into the dark night.
"Madison."
Slowly she turned. When their eyes met it was as if a current of desire ran between them, a desire that was not just physical, but just as much emotionally charged. But those two things, while powerful, were not the same as understanding. This didn't exist between them. It couldn't. They were from two different worlds, their lives separated by more than just an ocean.
His brow furrowed. "Is something wrong with Monaco?"
She laughed. She couldn't help it. "Oh, Luis. No. Nothing's wrong with Monaco. Not that I'm aware of anyway. I'm sure it's charming."
"But?" His confusion was evident. "I'm afraid I don't understand what's concerning you."
By now the plane had begun its descent and the glittering lights of the Riviera principality twinkled in the night sky. Madison stared out the window, unsure just how to explain her feelings to her companion.
The easiest course of action would be to put aside her questions and concerns and enjoy the evening. After all, this was not real life. This was an enchanted evening with a handsome prince in what she imagined was a magical place unlike anywhere she'd ever been before. Spending precious time and emotional energy in trying to find a way to relate to each other would do nothing but spoil a night that he'd obviously gone to great trouble to plan. "Let's forget it, please. We can chalk it all up to getting off on shaky ground."
"If you're certain," he replied, more than a bit of question in his voice.
She nodded. "I am. I have every intention of enjoying this evening." She would channel a modern-day Cinderella and surrender to the magic of the night. Except that tomorrow, there would be no glass slipper and no forever with a handsome prince. Tomorrow it was back to the kitchen for her, and back to a life she understood.
***
Once the plane landed and his guest had excused herself to touch up her lipstick, Luis headed toward the cockpit. He graciously thanked both pilots and the crew for their service before verifying the departure time for the flight home.
He turned, sensing that Madison had joined him. "Are you ready?"
She smiled and nodded. "Lead the way, Your Highness."
He groaned. "What is it going to take to make sure that you never call me that again?"
"Dinner. Dancing. And more champagne. In any order that you would like." Her smile was playful. "Deal?"
Luis smiled. "Deal." He nodded toward the now open doorway. "Shall we?"
He led the way down the steps to the tarmac and kept a careful hand under Madison's elbow as they walked toward the limousine that awaited them. Once she was settled, he went around the other side and slid in beside her. He spoke to the driver in French, asking that he be alerted if it appeared that any members of the paparazzi picked up on their arrival and began to follow them. Once assured that this would be done, he turned his attention to the woman beside him.
He laid a hand over hers. "I wish that we could have arrived during daylight hours so that you could see how truly charming Monaco is. Perhaps next time."
Madison did a double take. "Next time? Wow, you're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"
Luis shrugged, a half smile on his lips. "Either that or I'm very hopeful."
Madison laughed. "Nice save. Tell me what you like about Monaco?"
At the moment, it was hard to think of anything other than how incredibly attractive she looked, but Luis forced himself to focus on her question. "There's something unique about it, it's hard to put into words. In terms of landscape and physical beauty, it really is the jewel of the French Riviera, at least to my mind. The mix of people you find here is intriguing."
"Intriguing?" Madison's expression was challenging. "You're not going to try to sell me a bill of goods that the people here constitute a diverse crowd?"
Luis pulled his hand back and turned in his seat so he could better see her, which wasn't easy in the semi-darkness. Still, the shadows only covered part of her face. What was behind this attitude?
He'd never dated an American woman before, perhaps it was an inherent disdain of titles that fueled her...her what? Her cynicism? Her distrust? Whatever it was, he doubted anything other than gentle probing would get him the answers. "So you've known Kat for many years?"
If Madison was surprised by the change in subject it barely showed. "That's right. We met in college and became fast friends pretty quickly. We had some good times."
"I take it that you know Lemon well?"
Madison laughed. "Yes, and to know Lemon is to love her."
"My friend Dante certainly seems to feel that way." Luis agreed. "Were you surprised when Kat and Nico announced their engagement?"
Instead of answering right away, she appeared to be carefully selecting the words to form her response. "Yes, my sister and I were surprised. We were more than a bit concerned, honestly."
"And now that you've met Nico and seen them together?"
"Well, it's obvious they love each other."
Something in her tone indicated that there was something she was leaving unsaid. He very much wanted to know what that something was. "But?"
"You're not going to understand."
"Shouldn't I be the judge of that?"
"Fair enough. Here's the deal, Kat wasn't born into this kind of world." She held up her hand. "Before you ask, what I mean by 'this kind of world' is a world of privilege and wealth. None of us were. Well, Lemon grew up in a more affluent and functional family that either Kat and my sister and I did, but you get my drift. This whole concept of living in a family on display is pretty overwhelming. I can't speak for Kat, but I personally think it's downright scary."
"Even if that family, such as the Fiorellis, are held in great esteem by their countrymen?"
Madison sighed wistfully. "We can talk this to death, Luis, but the truth is that you and I aren't likely to see eye to eye on this. You're a royal prince and I'm a girl from Amarillo, Texas."
"When we return to Monterra, I challenge you to try to look at the situation from a different perspective."
Madison tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Exactly what perspective might that be?"
"I challenge you to look beyond the title and see the actual man, or woman, in question." He laid a hand over his heart. "I assure you that we have far more in common than you might think."
The limo slowed to a crawl and stopped in front of a well-lit white marble building. But instead of getting out to open their door, the driver lowered the partition. In rapid French he informed Luis that although the limo hadn't been followed, it appeared as if members of the paparazzi were waiting outside of the casino entrance.
"Perhaps they are waiting for someone else," Luis said, although that was more wishful thinking than practicality speaking. Monaco generally hosted any number of celebrities and other notoriously wealthy visitors. But even if their lenses were poised and waiting for someone else, as soon as they saw one of Santa Rosa's royals, they would be shooting. And shouting. He cursed swiftly in his native tongue.
"Luis, look at me." Madison leaned toward him. "I don't speak French so I'm not sure what the driver said, but I do speak enough Spanish to understand that last bit. What's wrong?"