Kristin’s scuffed sneakers had seen better days, especially when compared to the plush thick blue carpet she walked on inside the jet. The small windows along the side were the only things in common with the flight she’d taken once from Miami to New Orleans. There were no rows of seats. Instead it seemed like a living room in the sky.

How could Prince Antonio think she fit into this world? At least he’d stayed and talked to the pilot, giving her this minute to adjust. If he saw how out of place she looked, he probably would reconsider his marriage proposal.

Renee looked around with a grin. Kristin whispered, "This jet is nicer than our apartment."

"Shh." Renee dropped her purse next to a seat by a window. "If you marry the prince, he'll expect you to go in things like this all the time."

Kristin's face felt hot. She shouldn't blush, so she looked at her shoes again which didn't help. "I'm not..."

"I saw you kissing him," Renee interrupted and sat in the seat. “You both have chemistry.”

Kristin folded her hands together and closed her eyes. His lips on hers had been unexpectedly hot. She’d do that again, and possibly more. "I never knew a kiss could be so potent."

Which was why she’d packed her one pair of never-used, sexy underwear that she’d bought on a whim last year, and also why she’d emailed her boss requesting time off. Even if she got fired, even if she didn’t marry Antonio, taking this leap into the unknown was worth the nerves.

Renee hit a button on the white leather seat and it whirred, then reclined flat like a bed. "Now that's intriguing. Here he comes,” she whispered. “I'll go to sleep in this pod. Good night, Kristin."

Without another word, Renee hit another button and fully encapsulated herself in her seat pod, which blocked her face from view.

The carpets silenced Antonio’s steps, but she sensed him behind her. Goosebumps grew all over her in the hope that he touched her. "Your friend is going to sleep so soon?"

"I guess." She inched away. If she didn't, she'd lean on him and at some point beg for more kisses. It wasn't good or sane, especially not near her friend.

He took her hand and led her through more chairs to a kitchen area. "Well, let me give you the tour so you can choose where you want to spend the next few hours, though I recommend getting a good night’s sleep. We'll land in the morning time in Avce, with a full day ahead of us."

The stairs went up to a second floor. No flight she'd ever taken had two floors. "Take me upstairs?"

He nodded and walked with her. Once they made it to the next landing he said, "Up here is the lounge. This is for business meetings, reading, working..."

The door meant privacy. Finally. She took the contract out of her pocketbook, grabbed a pen, and then motioned for him to sit at one end of the rectangular boardroom table while she went to the other side. He stared at her and said, "Or that."

She'd figure out why he’d asked her for marriage later, but first they needed to discuss the contract. She dropped into a leather seat. "Please close the door because there are a few things I’d like to discuss."

"Sounds fair." He followed her directions. The door clicked closed and she knew no one might hear them. Her heart began to pump a little faster.

Once he was seated, his brown eyes with flecks of green caught her attention. Her slightly bent papers were now in both of her hands and she looked down. "Article 1, paragraph 7."

He tilted his head and those magnificent shoulders of his made her ache to let him hold her. He stayed in his seat and asked, "Yes?"

This was her meeting. She took a deep breath and then read the contract. "Sex without twenty-four hour notice sub-paragraph 3 states “sleeping will remain separated.” I want you to delete this."

He nodded. "Okay."

She used her black pen to strike it out. She then traced her neckline and flipped the page. Once she was settled, she said, "Moving on to article 2, paragraph 3 “outward expectation” that I must always wear gold and diamonds. Delete this."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

She tapped her pen to the table. "I like to work out and I'm not wearing a tiara or a diamond necklace when I'm trying stay in shape. We can amend this to “reasonable” wearing of jewels and precious metals."

The sexy smirk he wore in the pictures now showed up on his face, and she swore this one felt like it was just for her. "Done."

She wrote the word reasonable and struck out always on her contract. Now her pulse zipped. She looked down and read, "And now article 3, paragraph 2, “separated quarters.” I'd like this entire section removed."

He rested his elbow on the table and leaned forward, though they were still eight feet from each other. His eyebrow lifted as he stared at her. "You don't want your own quarters in the castle?"

The contract stated no falling in love clear enough, but she wasn't going to argue on that one. Once she had time, she'd find out if she could work around that provision. Her entire body ached for his touch so she kept her head down and stared at the paper in front of her. "If we are to be married and learn to trust each other, then we should share our lives as much as possible and that includes sharing a room and bed."

Once again he massaged his chin—a habit, she surmised. "So, you are thinking about signing the contract?"

She fixed her glasses on her nose and flipped the page of the contract again. "I still want to see your home, but if I do marry you, I want to be clear that I expect we'll live, eat, and work together."

He flattened his full lips and she wished he'd kiss her again. "Eat?"

"Oh yes..." She had almost lost the ability to read. She traced the paper until she found the part she needed. "Article 3, paragraph 7, “meals.” I'd like this section amended where it states whenever possible, we share meals together without interruptions. I want conversation."

He folded his hands in front of him. "I tend to eat at odd hours due to the responsibilities of the crown. My title is very much a job."

Her heart hammered in her chest, but she had to ensure she had a chance at more. Her cheeks felt flushed, but old memories of her parents and how they never spoke to each other replayed in her mind. Even if she earned an “A” on school work, nothing brought them together. Then her dad died, and her mother wouldn’t mention his name. She blinked and the memory was gone. "To me, the dinner table is where we should shut off the electronics and tell any advisors that you are not to be disturbed unless it's a matter of grave importance. I want us to talk to each other about our days."

"Duly noted."

She crossed out the section and wrote “eat together.” Other than the part on “love” the contract was clear and laid out what was expected in their marriage, not unlike a normal prenup. She’d read plenty of those while at work. She folded the papers and smiled. "Well, this was easy."

He sat further back in his chair, the blue of his polo complementing his olive tones. "You're done then?"

She pushed the contract to the side. "Yes, though I still need to see your home before I make a final decision."

He stood and took two water bottles from a mini fridge under the counter. He joined her at her end of the table and gave her one. "I am prepared to add now that once a month, you and I will take a night for ourselves where you may choose our date activity. Dinner, dancing, movie, whatever your heart desires."

Good. She turned her knees closer toward him. Her jeans brushed against his creased linen pants, highlighting their differences. "Sounds great. Now, why are you really looking for a wife?"

He reached for her hands. "Kristin, to start this relationship with trust, I should tell you that the law states I must marry by my birthday or I will be stricken from inheriting the crown. While I might not care about the title, it also means I’d never get to see my parents or my brothers again because I can’t come home, which can’t happen. I want to let you see everything and decide, but when we land, I'm going to hear about my father's health. If the doctors tell me he doesn't have long left, I have to make choices fast."

"I hope your dad gets better." If she had five more minutes with her own mother before she’d died, or if there was anything she might have done to please her at that time, she'd have done it. She pressed her hands to his palms.

He let out a sigh. "The doctors are preparing for the worst."

No wonder he seemed so tense. She’d had no idea; nothing about the king’s illness was in the news. "What's wrong with him?"

His intense gaze held despair, and she understood the newspapers had his character all wrong. He wasn’t the playboy prince from those articles, but a loving son. A section of wall around her heart fell. His voice wavered with a thread of sadness when he said, "He had a heart attack, which led to pneumonia. Now he’s been in a medicated coma for a week."

A coma was awful. Her mother's cancer had been a slow death, but Kristin had never wondered whether or not she’d wake, or if she could say goodbye. Her eyes moistened. "I am sorry."

Again he let out a sigh, but then he wiped a tear off her face. "Kristin, I'm going to kiss you now."

She licked her lips and opened her eyes wide, looking around the room. Nobody was around, and Renee was downstairs sleeping. "You are?"

He stood and offered her a hand to help her up. "I want far more from you than I expected."

He did? "Guess we'll see." She wrapped her arms around him.

His kiss made her want more than she’d expected too. She used the table for support as she wasn't sure she could balance.

No one had ever made her feel this way. His hand traced the side of her breasts and she ached. He could have all of her. She’d push past her reservations and say yes. Her parents weren’t the best example of a marriage, but it was time to let that go. Antonio’s arms felt right, and she’d stay within them, now and forever.