Royal Valentine (The Improbable Meet-Cute, #6)

by Sariah Wilson

“My apologies. Callum Stewart. A pleasure to meet you.” He offered me his hand, and after a tentative pause, I took it. He’d meant for us to shake, but all I could think about were the tingles racing up and down my veins from just the touch of his warm, firm hand. I hadn’t ever felt this kind of immediate attraction to anyone else. I jerked my hand away, wondering if he’d noticed the way I had started trembling. I was supposed to be regal and instead I was shaking. Ridiculous.

“On holiday?” he asked as we walked.

“Yes. For the next two days, and then I have to go back home.” “I’m guessing that accidentally knocking yourself out on a national monument wasnae part of your travel plans,” he teased, and I put a hand over my stomach as it fluttered in response.

“Hopefully you’ll manage to stay awake while you do,” he said, and I smiled. “I’d be happy to be your tour guide while you’re here.” “Oh.” His offer was far too tempting and I wanted desperately to accept. “You don’t have to babysit me.” “I wasnae intending to,” he said. “I love this city and would be happy to share it with a beautiful woman.”

“I ken that I’m not obligated. But I would like to spend the day with you, if you’ll have me.”

A little girl, probably ten or eleven years old, was also waiting in front of the bakery. She was holding the leash of a very large dog. I smiled at her. She smiled back. “You are very pretty,” she said in Italian. “Thank you. So are you. Is this your dog?” I asked. “Yes. You can pet him.” I crouched down and scratched the dog between the ears and his tongue lolled out. “You’re a princess,” the girl said. “I’ve seen your picture before.” It never made me feel bad when a child recognized me. If anything, it made me happy because of how excited it usually made them. “I am.” Now she was beaming at me. “I always wanted to meet a princess.” I offered her my hand and she shook it. “It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He made me feel like a teenager dating for the first time. Like everything was new and exciting.

“The only thing my extended family seems to care about is me not tarnishing the family name.” “How would you embarrass them?” He sounded genuinely confused. “It’s a very long story.” And it would involve me having to tell him the truth.

“I’d like to hear it, if you wish to share it,” he said. “I want to ken everything about you.”

“Anne.” He breathed the name over my lips. “Ilaria,” I corrected him. If he was going to kiss me, I wanted him to use my real name. “It’s . . . what everyone calls me.”

“I should stay away from you,” he murmured as he nuzzled his nose against mine. “Why?” That made no sense to me. “Because I can see myself falling for you, and that’s dangerous.”

But Callum didn’t know about any of those things. He saw Ilaria, the woman.

He made me feel like I had been a sleeping princess under a spell, and his kiss was waking me up.

“How did they find me?” I moaned as he said, “I cannae believe they’ve found me!” We stared at each other as the paparazzi surged toward us, jockeying for position to get the best shot. “They’re after you?” we asked each other at the exact same moment. He grabbed me by the hand and we started to run.

After several heartbeats of complete silence, he said, “I think we owe each other an explanation. Who are you?” I let out a sigh. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you. I’m Princess Ilaria of Monterra. King Dominic is my cousin.”

“Who are you?” I asked, trying to steady myself. Maybe I was imagining things. “Why did you think they were chasing you?” Another long pause before he finally answered, “I’m His Royal Highness, Prince Callum of Doune.”

“I don’t understand why you’re this upset,” I said, wringing my hands. It seemed like we had both done the same thing. I knew why he’d kept it a secret. He should be the one person who got it.

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “You dinnae? I thought you were just some American girl.” “And I thought you were just a Scottish photographer.” “That’s why I moved to Rome.” Now he sounded frustrated. “To escape the royal expectations pressing down on my shoulders. I want to live my life on my own terms, not one dictated by centuries of tradition.”

“But this isnae a holiday for me,” he said. “This is my life now.”

Someone running away from his royal responsibilities wouldn’t want to date a princess.

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” he said, and it felt like an attempt to avoid the real reason. Now I was the one who felt bitter. “So much for me being your dream come true.”

“I don’t like the paparazzi and what they’ve done to my life,” I interrupted him. I had meant it when I said I didn’t want to hear his rationalizations. “But I’m aware of my obligations and duties. And I like helping people. When I visit sick children in hospitals and get to see the way their faces brighten when they meet a real princess? I don’t want to take that away from them. I love my family and my nation. It’s taken me a few years to get here, but I like myself. I’m proud of who I am.”

Drawing on all the fortitude and strength of my royal ancestors, I lifted my head and squared my shoulders. “Thank you for today. I’ll never forget it.”

“I need to come home. Please tell Luigi what we did and have him come get me.” “Okay.” She sounded more awake now. “Is everything all right?” “No. Please hurry.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I didn’t want to embarrass the family.” “Oh, piccola mia, come here.”

When I was finished she asked, “Do you want me to call your cousin? I’m sure he could muster a special strike force and have this Callum character assassinated.” That made me smile. “Let’s not bother the king. It’s probably better if we don’t cause a world war.” “True, true,” she said, smiling back at me. “And I don’t want to hurt him. We had a perfect day together. Maybe it could have been more, but now I’ll never know. It feels so ridiculous to be crying over a man I didn’t even know twenty-four hours ago.” “I knew your father was the one for me the first hour of our first date, so I’m not going to tell you that you’re silly. I understand.”

I didn’t want to cause any more scandal for this family. But there was . . . nothing. No pictures, no stories about me and Callum.

After I told her what had occurred, she grabbed her phone. “How are there no stories about this? A picture of you and Prince Callum together on Valentine’s Day would have been worth a lot of money.”

Well, I had wanted a romantic adventure. I’d certainly gotten what I’d asked for.

When I got to the doorway, I glanced around the room to see if I was being followed. Luigi was probably going to take his duties far too seriously now and would be my constant shadow. My heart stopped when I saw who was looking at me. It wasn’t Luigi. It was Callum.

Callum walked through the ballroom, and I was torn between a desire to flee and a conflicting one to stay put so that I could properly take in all his magnificence. Then he was standing in front of me. “Ilaria, may I speak to you in private?”

“You are a vision,” he said. “Too beautiful to be real.” I put a gloved hand over my fluttering stomach. “What are you doing here?” “I needed to see you.”

“Ilaria, please. Stay. I’m begging you.”

“I looked you up online and saw how obsessed the tabloids are with you. I ken how dedicated you are to your work and your family, how important they are to you, and I didnae want my actions to embarrass you. Or them.”

She reminded me that life was about change and taking hold of wonderful gifts when they’re offered. She told me I was being shortsighted and ridiculous and that I shouldnae walk away from someone that I liked so much just because of your royal status. That I was attempting to reject my crown again through you.”

Callum smiled. “I meant beyond today. I thought I wanted a typical life. But I realized that what I want is a life filled with beauty and music and love. I dinnae ken what my future holds, but I do ken that I would like to have you by my side while I figure it out. If you can forgive me, that is. And if you’re interested.”

“I think that might work better if you actually made me wait,” he teased. “I’ve been waiting a long time to meet someone like you. I don’t want to wait any longer for the rest of my life to begin,” I confessed. “Nor do I. Although Rome was not the first time we’ve met.”

“No. We first met fifteen years ago. When the crown princess of Sweden got married. I was eleven, you were ten.” I didn’t know what he was talking about, and then it came rushing back to me. I gasped in outrage. “You put the frog on my lap during the ceremony and made my dress dirty!” “Aye, that was me.”

I balled up my fist and lightly punched his shoulder. “So Valentine’s Day wasn’t the first time you’ve made me cry.” He leaned in, putting his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling. “I dinnae ever want to be the reason for your tears.”

“I’ll always come for you. You’re my princess. It’s my duty to wake you with a kiss every morning. It’s required that I make certain you have your fairy-tale ending.” This was what I’d been waiting for. A man willing to fight for me, to stand by my side, to accept all of me.