Read MAID FOR A PRINCE: (Book 1) (Point St. Claire, where true love finds a way) for Free Online

was a princess from the Middle-East,” Darius went on. “When she and my father met at a state dinner, he decided they were well-suited. A marriage was arranged. Even before she became queen, she stole the hearts of the people. She was refined and gentle and always kind.”
    “And your father?”
    Darius’s chin went up. “He was a strong leader. Duty came first.”
    From a child’s or wife’s point of view, Helene wasn’t sure that was such a good thing.
    “Will you marry out of obligation, too?”
    Sometimes she wondered whether that right someone for her was really out there. One thing she did know, though—she would never marry unless she was sure they would be happy together for the rest of their lives. Darius’s reply was good humored.
    “You don’t need to concern yourself with my love life, Helene.”
    “I only meant that marrying someone you weren’t in love with would be hard.”
    “Not as hard as putting your country’s peace at risk.”
    She remembered a story. “You’re talking about that rebellion all those years ago? A king married a commoner, right?”
    “In history’s eyes, it wasn’t that long ago. Not only was she not of royal blood, she was rumored to be carrying another man’s child. Not a single image of her survived that time, but she was reputed to be extremely beautiful as well as shy or perhaps haughty. She rarely went out in public. After the child was born, gossip and anger spun out of control. The palace was attacked. People died.”
    “Still—a hundred years ago…”
    “More recently, my own uncle made a similar mistake. The woman he fell for had been married before.”
    Helene deadpanned. “How shocking.”
    He shrugged. “There were protests. Unrelenting. Even violent. Finally my uncle abdicated and my father, the younger brother, was forced to step up.”
    But this was the twenty-first century. She was about to point out that even kings got a choice of how to marry these days, but Darius changed the subject.
    “So, you have a degree. Which university?”
    “North Rock, Maine. I majored in history.”
    She prattled on about her studies and her friends, bookkeeper-slash-wannabe actress Billy Slade in particular. When she mentioned Billy’s ongoing search for an heirloom stolen almost a decade ago, Darius scowled and nodded. Jewels and other valuables had been taken or destroyed during that rebellion a hundred years ago. But before he got too deep into the story, he stifled a yawn and pushed wearily to his feet.
    “You’ll need to excuse me. I’ve been up since dawn,” he said. “You’ll find suitable quarters down that hall.” He gestured to a separate hallway and said goodnight. 
    Then, without a word about tomorrow, he disappeared again, and she was left alone in the soft yellow light with the family in that portrait peering down at her like a band of ghosts.
     
    The next morning, arriving back at the villa from a walk, Darius found Helene in the kitchen. Oil, crushed walnuts, milk, sugar, and half a dozen other ingredients lined the counter. When she glanced up from beating eggs, he hid a grin at the pat of flour on her cheek.
    She glanced down at the simple white shirt she wore that, given her height, served more as a dress. “I borrowed this from the wardrobe.”
    He preferred her in a bikini and sarong, but best not tell her that.
    “That room’s usually used by domestic help,” he said, strolling over. “You’d have found something different hanging in the closet if you’d stayed in my sister’s room. She’s a fan of jeans, the tattier the better.”
    “Your sister and I would get along then.” She reached for a sifter. “Hope you’re hungry.”
    When Darius had headed out this morning, he’d noticed the dishes were done and bits and pieces had been put away. Now Helene was cooking.
    He crossed over. After looking over the ingredients, he nodded at the cake pan. “Karidopitda?”
    “Gia, Alexio’s wife, taught me.” She added