"I will not." Ellaria flipped a tendril of blond hair behind her shoulder, her blue eyes flashing with malice.

"This is not a request." Antone resisted the urge to rub his eyes. The flight had been a long one, even longer than usual considering the fact that he'd dragged one unwilling woman back home with him. He was hardly in the mood to deal with another.

Still, if he knew anything, it was that his sister would not be easily swayed--not by him or anyone else. She simply wasn't built for it. No, with her long, toned limbs and hourglass figure, Ellaria was made for getting what she wanted--no matter how she had to go about it.

Unluckily for her, though, brothers couldn't be convinced like other men.

"Antone--"

"This is a command. You will provide lessons on history, decorum, manners--"

"What? Is she some beast? She doesn't know these things?"

"Not as they are done in our country."

Ellaria glared at him, then dropped into the seat across from his desk. The fire light behind her glinted in her hair and as she surveyed her options, he leaned back, waiting to parry her next attack.

"You've made a fine mess of things this time," she spat.

"But here we are." He shrugged.

"You could have had any woman in Napoline. Any woman in the world. Princess Annabella would have fallen at your feet and given you a hundred sons if you'd wanted them. And what do you do? You bring home an American waitress." She spat. "I should have known."

"Fine, I'll abdicate and you can wear the crown."

Ellaria rolled her eyes. "Your empty threats will get nowhere with me."

"But they'll scare you enough for you to realize you have no choice in the matter. The future princess is pregnant with your nephew. You must teach her how to raise a king."

"I will--"

"You will make peace with it," he cut her off. "I'll hear no more of this. You will be civil with Tess. She will be your queen one day."

"My queen. Bah." Ellaria gripped the arms of her chair and propelled herself from the seat before stalking toward the door. "And you've told Mama and Papa, I assume?"

"I will cross that bridge when I get to it."

"I look forward to that." She shot the words over her shoulder, then snapped his office door closed behind her.

He stared at the wide, oak door for a long moment, then glanced at the fireplace before folding his hands on the sleek wooden desk in front of him. He'd spent most of his day sorting through the files that his father hadn't bothered to glance at. He'd be damned if the man was going to make a judgment about his heir or his wife.

His wife.

He thought of Tess, leaning back in the chair of the airplane, her glasses perched on the very edge of her nose, her full lips contorting in her sleep. It was strange--the stark difference between the woman he'd brought with him and the beauty he'd led to his room the night of the gala.

Even stranger was the fact that he wasn't sure which of those women he'd liked more.

Still, she had no plans of being his. Not in any real way.

That, he supposed, was her prerogative. Still, he couldn't keep himself from thinking of what she'd looked like splayed out on the bed in his hotel room. Or what she might look like draped in his satin sheets, her hair tousled and her eyes bright with satisfaction.

Swallowing, he shifted in his seat and checked the time. Supper would be served soon and he and Tess would be expected.

After going to his room and making quick work of dressing for the meal, he started off for Tess's wing, his heart thudding in his chest. He'd asked the maids to lay out a white dress for her, similar to the one she'd worn the night he'd met her.

Vaguely, he wondered if she'd look quite as stunning in it. If her breasts would press against the fabric like they were begging to be released. If the fabric would invite him to explore the soft curves of her...

He squared his jaw and came to her door at last. Knocking lightly, he opened the door and leaned inside.

At the end of the bed lay a pretty white gown, crumpled and twisted. Her foot rested on the neckline and he followed the line of her leg until he found her dozing form, her brown hair splayed out around her in her sleep.

Jet lag. He hadn't accounted for that. The pregnancy might have tired her, too.

Either way, she looked too perfect, too serene in her sleep to bother her now.

He crossed the room with a gentle step, then he was finally standing at her side, he took the glasses from her face and set them on her nightstand before grabbing the velvet throw from a nearby armchair and tossing it over her.

She twisted against the fabric at first, then she curled one hand around it and pulled it tight, nuzzling into the velvet like it was her beloved cat.

He stood back, admiring the peacefulness of her rest and, despite himself, wondering what it might be like to climb into bed next to her. Would she snuggle against him like she'd done with the blanket? Would her creamy, toned arm curl around him and pull him close?

He shook his head. It didn't matter.

So, slowly and quietly, he made his way back across the room before he clicked the door closed and headed for dinner alone.

* * *

When Tess woke in the morning, it was to the smell of lavender tea and fresh fig jam. She rubbed her palm over her eyes and sat up straight, trying to get a bearing on her surroundings. Beside her, on the tiny marble table next to the wide four-poster bed, was a silver tray laden with fresh rolls and a little porcelain container of jam alongside an elegant-looking silver teakettle.

She blinked, then noticed a tiny gold envelope tucked beneath the sculpted porcelain plate and she pulled it out to read it, squinting as she realized she'd lost her glasses somehow in her sleep.

Tess,

Good morning. You will find the early hours to your leisure, but please be sure to meet the Princess Ellaria in the south wing library at teatime for your first lesson. She will be waiting for you.

Antone

She blinked down at the crisp, cool lettering, then glanced around for her glasses. They were nowhere to be found, but in their place, on the dresser at the far end of the room, was a little bottle of saline solution and a contact lens case. The same cheetah printed one she'd had by her bedside at home.

She frowned. Apparently, she was to dress to the prince's preference now, too. If she even saw him, that was. Nowhere in his note had it mentioned when she might see him or what his plans were for the day.

"The Royal incubator probably isn't privy to that information," she grumbled to herself, then slid from the bed and made her way to the dresser. After putting in her contact lenses and blinking around until she'd adjusted, she glanced around for a clock.

There wasn't one.

Not even a gold-encrusted timepiece that chimed the Napoline national anthem on the hour. She fumbled for the cellphone in her pocket, but when she clicked the power button, it made no sign of life.

"Damn." She tossed it onto the bed. She'd have to ask for a charger.

And when exactly teatime was.

Seeing no other option, she pulled open the wardrobe beside her dresser and found an array of breath-taking dresses. Some were short, flowy cocktail dresses while other were elegant gowns with embroidered necklines and stunning detailing.

They all had one thing in common, though. They were all a buttery silk that shined in the morning sunlight that poured through the castle windows.

She reached out and took the simplest one in hand--a pink summer dress that had a sheer pink chiffon overlay. It was the most feminine thing she'd ever seen--complete with the glossy salmon bow around the waist, and it reminded her of all the dresses she'd had to wear growing up.

It was exactly the sort of thing her mother would shove over her head before they made their way to a state dinner or yet another fundraiser. The exact thing she'd lived her whole life avoiding.

Wrinkling her nose, she stuffed it back in the closet and opened her dresser drawer, hoping for a solid pair of yoga pants and some sweatshirts. Hell, she'd even take a nice pair of slacks and a button down shirt.

Instead, she found empty drawer after empty drawer.

"He's got to be kidding," she grumbled to herself, but when she found nothing in the final drawer, she stood back and placed her hands on her hips, unsure where to go from there.

A knock sounded on the door and Arnaldo jumped from the bed to circle her ankles in a figure eight.

Vaguely, she wondered if it was Antone, come to confess to the joke he'd played on her. Instead, when she called for the person to come in, Luca's Grecian nose and sculpted face peeked around the door.

"Oh, Luca," she said. "Do you know--"

"Please excuse me madam, but I must tell you..." He glanced at her, apparently only just noticing she was still dressed in her purple lazy-day outfit. "Why are you not ready?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you. Aren't there any other clothes for me to wear?"

"I would not worry about that at the moment. The princess is waiting for you and she has become...well, she is beginning to grow impatient." He offered her a sympathetic smile. "May I escort you to the library?"

"I..." She glanced at the wardrobe, thinking again of the pink dress inside. She couldn't do it, though. She couldn't force herself to wear it. "Yes, let's go."

She picked up Arnaldo and set him on the bed before kissing him goodbye and stalking through the door and into the huge, cavernous hallway.

"Are you sure you don't want to--" Luca started, but Tess held up a hand.

"I'm positive."

The rest of their trip down to the library was a quiet one, and though Tess wanted to ask questions about what to expect, what the princess was like, and what she might be learning, she couldn't bring herself to do it. Partially because she was too focused on putting one foot in front of the other and also because the look on Luca's face had already told her all she needed to know about Princess Ellaria.

At last, they came to a huge set of double oak doors framed by ornate carvings of fairytale creatures and opened books, and Luca stopped short.

"This is where I leave you, Your Grace."

"Oh, I'm not--" She tried to correct him, but he turned on his heel and set off in the opposite direction.

"Great," She grumbled under her breath, then she pressed one palm to the door and opened it a crack before setting one foot inside and entering with caution.

The room she found herself in was the envy of even the library from Beauty and the Beast. It was stacked with books from floor to ceiling, and in the corner of the room was a crackling fire in a marble fireplace and two comfortable-looking leather armchairs.

She took a step toward them, wanting to pick a random book from the shelves and sink in, but then she heard a soft, feminine voice from behind her.

"I see you've finally decided to make an appearance. How kind of you." Ellaria's accent was thicker than her brother's, which, of course, only made the distinct edge of malice that much more pronounced.

Before Tess could turn to face the other woman, though, Ellaria had made her way around to the front of the room.

As if her voice hadn't struck an imposing enough air, her figure gave Tess the impression of a woman who had never once failed to get her way. Her slender arms were crossed over her ample chest, and she jutted one hip out as she surveyed Tess with narrowed, bright blue eyes.

Where her brother was dark, she was fair, her blond hair cascading over her shoulders and bringing even more attention to the rich, dark maroon of her expensive-looking dress.

"How nice to see you've dressed for the occasion." Ellaria practically spat.

"I'm sorry about that. I had nothing to wear. I mean, if you saw the clothes Antone picked out--"

"I have. I am the one who selected them for you." She sized Tess up again, then added with a sneer. "It is lucky for you my sister is slightly larger than I am. Otherwise, we would have nothing for you to wear."

Tess sucked in her cheeks. So Ellaria had been the one to pick out her clothes. Of course.

"I suppose I should simply be grateful that you decided to appear today. That's more than I could say for you last night."

"I'm sorry about that. Jet lag. You know how it is." Tess shrugged a shoulder and Ellaria motioned to one of the chairs beside the fire.

"Sit. I must decide what to do with you. I should have known my brother would not make this easy on me."

"I beg your pardon--" Tess sank into the chair, and Ellaria cut her off mid-sentence.

"Tell me, what is it you know about my country?"

"I..." Tess struggled to find the right words, but doubted there was a correct way to say she'd never heard of Napoline until she'd accidentally slept with their prince.

"Nothing, then." Ellaria's already narrowed eyes became nothing more than slits. "Do you even know where you are right now?"

"I'm guessing close to Italy?"

Ellaria raised her eyebrows, then pursed her lips. "Ah, so she at least knows the accent. That is something."

"Hey, I can--"

"Sss," Ellaria hissed. "I am not interested in your words. My brother may have found you..." She surveyed Tess' rumpled purple frock, then said, "Unique, but you can trust I cannot see why. For your information, we are on an island south of Sicily. So, yes, very near Italia."

"Okay. Great," Tess said, but apparently her response was neither expected nor welcome to Ellaria.

"I have done my research, Tess Strickland." The other woman said her name like it was a swear word. "Unlike yourself, apparently. Unfortunately for you, I am less interested in what you think of Napoline and more interested in what Napoline thinks of you."

"The people--"

"We are a traditional people. Do you understand? Arranged marriages are still very much the law of the land in most provinces. Women hold jobs and go to school, but they are also expected to maintain propriety and decorum."

"I..."

"So," Ellaria snipped. "I must then ask how a woman such as yourself would expect to be queen of such a people?"

"What do you mean a woman such as myself?" A knot tightened in Tess' stomach and she laid her hand over her belly protectively. "If you mean the baby--"

"No, I am not speaking of your bastard. Though I must confess I am not shocked by your angling. Tell me, do you truly think I did not look you up? Do you think I do not know about Lawrence Halpern?"

Tess' heart froze over in her chest. She hadn't heard that name in so long, but even now it made the blood in her veins curdle. "How do you...?"

"Everyone. Knows. Everyone in the United States, at least. How long do you think such a story will take to make its way to Napoline? Did you think we were so backward here that your little secret would never get out?"

"I..." Tess blinked, hating the tears that pricked the backs of her eyes.

She had to get out of here, out from under Ellaria's scrutiny and judgment. Back to Arnaldo. Back to sanity.

"I have to go." She practically jumped from her chair before sprinting for the door, and Ellaria called after her.

"I've not finished with you."

But Tess didn't care. This was the final straw. The evidence that she didn't--and could never--belong here.

She had to find Antone. Had to explain everything.

And then?

She had to get the hell out of here.