"She hasn't agreed?" Marco asked with surprise. “So why isshehere?”
If his father survived, he could go a few weeks and give her time to adjust. At least until his birthday. He still had no choice to marry, but it wasn't a minute-by-minute scare and he could now offer her an actualceremony.
Plus a few days to convince Kristin would be very pleasurable. He looked out the window to the maze in the green garden. "No, not yet. I’m giving her time to get the tour first before the ring goes on her finger for life. Now that Dad is awake, we can get married in the church where Mary haditsnow."
Their mother turned from their dad’s bedside, intending to join them. Marco had no care for decorum as he said, "So you figure one trip around the rose garden and a dinner in the east wing tower and she'syours."
Antonio rubbed his chin. "Dinner in the tower, alone. Thanks forthetip!"
Marco's lips wouldn't quite close. He stood there with his head tilted as he stared at him. "Wait. The playboy prince is actually trying to seduce thiswoman?"
His father's weak voice carried across to them. "She must beprettythen."
Antonio felt like a twelve-year-old. His face was probably crimson. "Father, we should not be having this conversation at all. You needyourrest."
His mother made atsksound and guided both of them to the door. "Your father is still in danger but the doctors agree that it's much more likely he'll have a full recovery so long as nothing upsets him, or causes him unduestress."
Antonio called out, "Father, I'd prefer to remain the Crown Prince for a while and not King—rest,please."
His father yawned. "Bring the American tomeetme."
"Yes, sir." Antonio followed his mother and Marco out oftheroom.
Once the door clicked closed, he stared at the empty walls that once had held family portraits. The communist regime had smashed them or sold them. Now the long hall was clean, well maintained with powder blue walls, but he always felt this place was missing something. His father restored order, but he’d like to replace or find a few stolen pieces of their art. And if he hung Kristin’s beautiful portrait in the hall near the grandfather clock, he’d see her just as she was right now. He shook his head. He'd not think about that. "Mother, I should go check on Kristin and her best friend,Renee."
His mother snapped her fingers. "Yes, please have them prepare for dinner. I'll ensure a variety of dresses are sent to theirrooms."
Kristin had packed herself, one suitcase only. Would she be offended if suddenly his mother sent her a wardrobe, with instructions? "How did you know they'd needdresses?"
His mother shook her head. "I've never met an American with one travel bag that brought the right clothes to meet a Queen. Americans tend to either overdress for the occasion or even worse, underdress. If she is to be your bride, then I want the world to see her as perfect. I will offer myassistance."
Staff must have told his mother what Kristin carried, and if she’d unpacked any clothing worthy of note. Perhaps it was best to talk to Kristin about his mother's plans for a dress? If he made the rules, she could wear jeans because she had the perfect shape that showed off her curves in the ones she wore last night, but for now, they were talking a family state dinner. He nodded. "Thank you, Mother. I will talktoher."
His mother returned to his father's room. Antonio walked down the hall, intending to knock on Kristin's door. He made it ten feet down the blue hall when his brother called out, "Antonio!"
"Marco." He stopped and waited for his brother tocatchup.
"The other one you brought with her. What'sherdeal?"
He hadn't researched Renee other than the fact Kristin wasn't friends with known criminals. "Renee Brown, Kristin’s best friend. She's a teacher out for her summerbreak."
Marco crossed his arms. "Well, I'll be sure to keep her busy so you can win over yourcomputerdate."
Computer. He'd have to find a way to tell Kristin, but he wasn't sure how. "About that..." Perhaps his brother might hold his tongue. "Please do not mention the search I ran to findKristin."
They walked down the hall together. Marco asked, "Does that mean you didn'ttellher?"
"No." It shouldn't be a big deal. Lots of people used Internet searches to find what they needed and he’d needed a wife. Everything he did had beenlogical.
At the door to the grand hall, where ancestors threw elegant galas and the paint had specks of gold embedded, Marco asked, "Then why does she think you flew across the globe and asked her tomarryyou?"
Marco used to be the better brother. Lucio was the one he'd never completely trust because he suspected a trick. However, Marco currently acted more like Lucio. "Because she applied for a job. Secretary. She knows I actually requiredawife."
He blinked and didn’t move for a second. Finally he nodded. "I'll keep your secret, but you must tell her thetruth."
There was the helpful Marco he remembered. Antonio took a deep breath. "I will, when the time is right. When I'm alone with her..." She made him forget the rest of the world. He pressed his lips together and refused to say anything like that to his baby brother. He wasn't soft and never had been so that would have been out of his normal. "Nevermind."
Marco's gaze narrowed. "Nevermindwhat?"
