Brooke gawked like any tourist as the car swung through a gate and the palace appeared. Nic had grown up here. The chasm between them widened even further. It was one thing to rationalize that her brother’s business partner was in reality the prince of a small European country. It was another to see for herself.
During her year abroad in Italy she’d been fortunate enough to be invited to several palaces. A few of the older volumes of Italian literature she’d used in her doctoral thesis had been housed in private collections and she’d been lucky enough to be allowed the opportunity to study them. But those residences had been far less grand and much smaller than the enormous palace she was heading toward right now.
The car followed a circular driveway around a massive fountain and drew up in front of the palace’s wide double doors. Surprise held Brooke in place. Given her stealthy transfer from the royal private plane to this car, she’d half expected to be dropped off at the servants’ back entrance.
A man in a dark blue suit stepped forward and opened the car door. Brooke stared at the palace doors, unable to make her legs work. One of the tall doors moved, opening enough to let a slim woman in a burgundy suit slip through. Still unsure of her circumstances, Brooke waited as the woman approached.
“Dr. Davis?” She had a lovely soft voice and a British accent. “I’m Libby Marshall, Princess Olivia’s private secretary.”
“Nice to meet you.” Brooke still hadn’t budged from the car. “Nic didn’t mention he intended to bring me here when we left his villa this morning so I’m not really sure about all this.”
The princess’s secretary smiled. “Don’t worry, all has been arranged. Princess Olivia is looking forward to meeting you. Armando will take your bag. If you will follow me.”
If she hadn’t flown hundreds of miles in a private jet, Brooke might have been giddy at the thought that a princess was looking forward to meeting her. Instead, it was just one more in a series of surreal experiences.
Brooke slipped from the car and let herself gawk at the sheer size of the palace. Her escort moved like someone who knew better than to keep people waiting and had disappeared through the tall doors by the time Brooke surrendered her meager possessions to Armando. She trotted to catch up, but slowed as soon as she stepped inside.
The palace was everything she’d expected. Thirty feet before her a black-and-white marble floor ended in a wide staircase covered in royal blue carpet. The stairs were wide enough to let an SUV pass. They were split into two sections. The first flight ascended to a landing that then split into separate stairs that continued their climb to the second floor.
She envisioned dozens of women dressed in ball gowns of every color, gliding down that staircase, hands trailing along the polished banister, all coming to meet Nic as he stood, formally dressed, on the polished marble at the bottom of the stairs awaiting them. His gaze would run along the line of women, his expression stern and unyielding as he searched for his perfect bride.
Brooke saw herself bringing up the rear. She was late and the borrowed dress she wore would be too long. As she descended, her heel would catch on her hem. Two steps from the bottom, she’d trip, but there would be no Nic to catch her. He was surrounded by five women each vying for his attention. Without him to save her, she would make a grab for the banister and miss.
Flashes would explode in her eyes like fireworks as dozens of press cameras captured her ignominy at a hundred frames per second.
“Dr. Davis?” Libby peered at her in concern. “Is something amiss?”
Brooke shook herself out of the horrifying daydream and swallowed the lump that had appeared in her throat. “Call me Brooke. This is—” Her gaze roved around the space as maids bustled past with vases of flowers and two well-dressed gentlemen strode by carrying briefcases and speaking in low tones. “Really big. And very beautiful,” she rushed to add.
“Come. Princess Olivia is in her office.”
Normally nervous energy would have prompted Brooke to chatter uncontrollably. But as she followed Libby past the stairs and into a corridor, she was too overwhelmed. They walked past half a dozen rooms and took a couple more turns. In seconds, her sense of direction had completely failed her.
“You really know your way around.” She’d lost the battle with her nerves. “How long have you worked in the palace?”
“A few months. I arrived with Princess Olivia.”
“Be honest. How long did it take until you no longer got lost?”
Libby shot a wry smile over her shoulder. “Three weeks.”
“I’m only expecting to be here a couple days. I don’t suppose there’s a map or something.”