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FALLING FOR THE PRINCESS
Current Series Imprints, Harlequin Desire, Series
"You're going about this all wrong." The deep, low voice shattered the serenity of the bright fall morning.
It sounded like…
But it couldn't be. Not here.
Regardless of the impossibility, Rebecca Marconi's fingers tightened around the handle of her mug and she looked warily over her shoulder. The dark-haired man at the beachfront cafe's only other occupied table lowered his newspaper and raised his sunglasses.
Amusement glinted in Logan Buchanan's chocolate-colored eyes.
The last person she expected to see. The last person she wanted to see. Rebecca shook her head, disbelieving. "Where do I have to go to get away from you?"
"To the ends of the earth, Princess."
"I thought I had." She'd spent the past two weeks traveling across Europe and North America until, after a twelve-hour flight and a drive a third of that time, she'd ended up on a remote part of a remote peninsula in New Zealand. Here, along the whole sweep of beach before her, she could see fewer than half a dozen people.
Of all the cafes in all the towns in all the world… "How did you find me?"
Straight dark eyebrows lifted. "Please. Give me some credit. You haven't exactly been discreet."
Actually, she'd tried. She'd attended just two unavoidable gatherings of friends, one in New York, and one in San Francisco. She hadn't expected either of those gatherings to end up on celebrity gossip websites. Her friends weren't the type to court publicity. She couldn't, however, say the same for the friends of her friends. That was the trouble, you never really knew who else was at these things or what they truly wanted no matter how innocent and open they seemed. It was a lesson she ought to have learned before now. "Sophie's engagement party?"
"To name but one."
Here, finally, she'd been planning on laying low for a time while she figured out a way forward. A way that would work for both her and her father, the reigning monarch of the small European principality of San Philippe.
She wasn't well-known outside of Europe—outside of San Philippe even. Here, she'd counted on some privacy and anonymity. "I was going to go home." She left the eventually off of her sentence.
She'd turned down the two unexpected requests from Logan to meet with him in the week before she left home. She'd been busy, but she'd also seen no reason to meet with a man who'd made his views on royalty and the archaic ways of her country abundantly clear.
A man who also always managed to unsettle her, making her feel as though she didn't quite fit her own skin.
"I don't have that much time," he said.