Invitation to the Prince's Palace / The Prince's Second Chance: Invitation to the Prince's Palace / The Prince's Second Chance

‘I’m just sorry that I spoiled the drive for you,’ she said. ‘You obviously needed an outlet after dealing with those two foolish men and keeping your calm so well, both before and after.’

Rik had needed that outlet. Sometimes keeping his cool came at a cost to his blood pressure!

‘I felt like telling them off myself for being so stupid,’ she added hotly, ‘and I wasn’t the one who had to risk life and limb to go out and stop that first man from falling to his death!’

Maybe if she learned to drive herself, she might feel better informed and more confident to assess the skill of other drivers when they were behind the wheel.

They were side by side on the sofa, and Rik became very conscious of that as they fell silent and gave their attention to their drinks.

After a moment, she spoke with a slight teasing tone in her voice. ‘You make very good coffee. Is it allowed, for a prince of the realm to do such tasks as make coffee?’

‘And do them well?’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think in today’s world it is, and I would go hungry and thirsty up here if it weren’t.’

She was a plucky girl. Resilient. The thoughts came to Rik and lodged. He couldn’t help but admire her for that.

‘Do you think I could have a tour while we’re here?’ she asked. ‘I’d love to see the rest of your home.’

‘Absolutely.’ Rik got to his feet and held out his hand to help Melanie rise.

He was getting in the habit of that, of reaching for her hand far too often …

But you will need to do things like that to make the upcoming marriage plans seem realistic to your father.

Even though Georgio would not expect it to be a love match, he would still expect such demonstrations.

‘The meeting with my father has not yet been arranged. I think it can wait for a little longer yet.’ Rik drew a breath. ‘I’d like some time to restore a better mood before I tackle that talk, to be honest.’

‘Then I’m glad I asked for the tour.’ Mel melted the moment Rik confessed his need to prepare for the talk with his father. And she truly did feel so much better now. ‘We can stay here as long as you want. It’s a beautiful place.’

Rik was good company and they’d just sort of got engaged, so why shouldn’t they stay here for a bit, if they wanted to? She could use the time to ask a few questions about how they would work their way through the next few months, too.

‘I’ll need a wedding dress.’ Visions of past royal marriages scrolled through her mind. ‘Something very simple that won’t cost the earth.’ She turned to Rik. ‘How do we pull off a wedding in a month?’

‘With a really good wedding planner, and, as you’ve already realised, with the most simplified plans possible.’ He started towards the rear of the house and said firmly, ‘Now let me show you the rest of my retreat, and all the views. I think they’re worth seeing.’

They were, and Mel looked out of floor-length windows at some very lovely scenery before Rik toured her through the rest of his home. It was surprisingly humble. Well, not humble. It was a delightful four-bedroom chalet-style home but it certainly wasn’t, well, a palace.

‘I love this place,’ she blurted. ‘If it was me I’d be up here all the time. Normal-sized rooms, calm atmosphere, no one to tell you what to do.’

‘You’ve just worked out the secrets of my attraction to this home.’ He smiled and led her into the final room.

It was an office, with a desk and computer and shelves of books about …‘Oh. Can I look at some of those? Do you have ones that show what the truffles look like when they’re harvested? History books? Anything about the royal truffles? Cooking? The growth process from beginning to end and the uses of truffle hogs?’

‘Yes to all of that. And I trained Rufusina under the tutelage of Winnow. There is a photo album.’ Rik brought out the photo album and a selection of books and before Mel knew it she was nose down in some gorgeous pictures, and some very interesting information. He didn’t have cookbooks, but he told her that some of the old recipes were still produced at the palace and described some of the dishes.

‘Truffled turkey. I’d like to cook that.’ Mel thought back through her cooking career. ‘The closest I’ve come to cooking with truffles is using truffle-flavoured oil a few times.’

Rik’s brows lifted. ‘You had a career as a cook?’

‘Yes, working for my aunt and uncle.’ Mel glanced at him through her lashes. She’d thought he would have known that already.

They were seated with her on the swivel chair, and him leaning back against the corner of the desk in his office. It wasn’t a large room, and as she let herself register the cosiness, his closeness, Mel suddenly became breathless. ‘I cooked for them for years. Cakes and desserts were my speciality, but I cooked all the meals, including for dinner parties. They liked to schmooze wealthy—’

She coughed and turned her attention back to the books. ‘These are wonderful resources. It’s an intricate industry. You’ve done well to get the black truffles growing commercially here.’

‘Not so well in the past two years.’ Rik glanced up and towards the windows.

The frown that came to his face made Mel follow his glance.

She hadn’t noticed the change in atmosphere, but now she saw it. ‘I didn’t know it had started snowing.’

‘Yes.’ He got up from the desk. ‘Why don’t you select what books you’d like to bring back to the palace when we return, while I see what’s in the kitchen that we can have for our lunch?’

Not that Mel minded either way and it wasn’t as though Rik were trying to trap her into spending time with him here. He’d probably enjoy the time away from the palace while he could, but would have been just as content to be up here by himself.

Something in his expression still made her ask. ‘How long do you think it will snow?’

CHAPTER SIX

IT SNOWED all that day. When darkness fell, Rik closed the curtains throughout his chalet home and turned to face Mel.

While Rik appeared completely calm Mel couldn’t say the same. She stood rather uncertainly in the middle of the living room.

With the prince. Up here in his chalet where he’d just made the decision that they wouldn’t be leaving until morning. So they would be here. All alone. Together. For all that time.

‘It won’t matter too much?’ She asked the question in a deliberately businesslike tone that somehow managed to emerge sounding chatty and confiding and breathless all at once. Mel forged on. ‘That you can’t get back tonight,I mean?’

Even despite the tone, Mel would have said she did well, that the question was at least focused on whether he might have problems because he couldn’t attend to duties at the palace tonight.

Yes. That was a good way to put it. ‘Your duties—?’ Really, she felt quite relaxed about this whole situation.

After all they were just staying in a different location for a night. She’d slept in a bedroom within Rik’s suite of rooms last night, which was rather intimate when you thought about it, and that hadn’t bothered her.

Not even when you leapt out of bed the next morning because you could hear him speaking just outside your closed door? Because you wanted to get through the shower and look your best for him before he saw you? Because you hadn’t been entirely certain whether he’d pulled the covers over you the night before when you might not have looked your best?

‘It won’t matter at all. I gave Dominico another quick call while I was outside checking the snowfall. He’ll take care of anything urgent until I get back tomorrow morning.’ His cheek creased as he gave a lopsided and quite devastating smile. He didn’t seem at all concerned or put out by their circumstances.

Which was great, of course.

That was exactly how Mel would feel in a moment when she finished pushing away these silly thoughts about being up here alone with him and how that might impact on the rest of the evening. It must be because he had kissed her on the mountainside earlier. Or because they’d spent the afternoon poring over truffle books and photo albums that showed many shots of Rufusina being trained by Rik and Rik laughing in some of the shots.

Perhaps it was also because she would be pretending to be engaged and then married to him.

‘We’ll end up holding hands and kissing …‘ Somehow the words were attached to the blood vessels in her face. Heat swept upwards from her neck and rushed into her cheeks.

‘Yes,’ Rik said in a deep voice. ‘At times we … will.’

Rikardo. Prince Rikardo. You’ll end up holding hands and kissing Prince Rikardo.