Gamble on Engagement Read online

  Or so I thought.

  I found the conveyor that had the luggage for my flight and grabbed my bags quickly since there were very few left. I did, of course see the huge orange suitcase still rolling around and around and turned, head down, wanting nothing more than to just get the heck out of there.

  “Josie!” Missy yelled, waving frantically.

  It was then that I noticed the people standing over to the side with signs. There were only a couple left, patiently waiting for their clients.

  The last thing I wanted to do was let my driver know that I even knew this woman, let alone might be friends with her or something, so I pretended I didn’t see her and started walking to my driver, a nervous smile plastered on my face.

  “Josie?” she said again, coming right up to me.

  Argh!!

  I looked at her and jumped a little, pretending to be surprised. “Oh,” I cleared my throat, “was that you Missy? I thought someone from over there had called my name,” I said, pointing to a far corner of the baggage claim area. “The acoustics in here are really weird.” I chuckled nervously.

  There was no way she was going to buy it.

  But of course she did. There were just some people in this world who could not believe other people might find them annoying. I wondered how red my face was turning as I glanced out of the corner of my eye toward my driver, who sadly, was not far enough away to be out of earshot. Especially considering the next thing that came out of Missy’s mouth.

  “I saw you hightail it to the bathroom too! And even faster than me! You must have really had to go! Don’t ya just hate those airplane bathrooms? So tiny, and nasty too, if you know what I mean.”

  Dear God, just kill me now. It might not have been so bad if she hadn’t been one of those people who felt the need to yell everything she says. I glanced again at the driver who was now chuckling softly. At least he was trying to hide it. Some of the other people around were not so courteous.

  “Heh, heh, well, um… I guess so,” I said as quietly as possible, smiling through my red-faced shame. I cleared my throat again. “Well, I see my driver’s here, so I’d better get going.”

  “No way!”

  What? What does she mean no way? It’s not like she could just kidnap me or something.

  Or could she?

  I took a step backward, readying myself to make a break for it.

  “Not until you give me your email address so we can stay in touch!” She gleamed a smile my way that would scare the crap out of a clown.

  “Oh yeah, heh heh, why didn’t I think of that?” I slapped my forehead for good measure.

  Man, I really must take another one of those improv classes one of these days. My acting skills were way beyond pathetic.

  But Missy didn’t miss a beat. She already had her pen and paper at the ready. I grabbed them and jotted down my email as quickly as possible, very aware of my driver trying to compose himself just a few dozen feet away. I handed the paper back to Missy and turned to leave.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  I stopped in my tracks. What now? I wondered, turning around.

  “You forgot to get my email address silly!” She shook her head like I was the most forgetful thing on the planet.

  Yes, forgetful. That’s what it was.

  “Oh… right,” I said, pulling out my phone. “I’ll just type it in here. Then I’ll have it wherever I go,” I smiled, praying this would all be over soon.

  “Great! It’s [email protected].”

  Of course it is, I thought. “Great.” I smiled. “Thanks so much.”

  “Well, I guess that’s it then,” Missy finally said and I mouthed a silent thank you to the God of Pity who was surely smiling down on me in that moment.

  “Great! So nice to meet you,” I said, and again, made the mistake of turning to leave.

  Suddenly, I was immersed in the squeeziest of all bear hugs you’ve ever seen. I thought I might choke. She finished off with a huge slap to my back, practically sending me sailing toward my driver.

  I coughed from the force of the air being knocked out of my lungs. “Great then, see ya! Bye!” I croaked, giving her a little wave. It seemed like a good idea to punctuate my departure with two goodbyes, just to make sure she fully understood.

  “Bye!”

  She finally started walking toward her ridiculous safety cone luggage.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath, letting it slowly out my nose, hoping the tension would drain away with it.

  And it actually seemed to work, at least a little. I straightened my shoulders and tried to walk confidently toward my driver. I smiled as best as I could, considering.

  “Um, hi. I’m Josie.”

  “Yes, Miss McMaster, welcome to England,” he said, ever so gracious.

  Thank goodness. I didn’t know how much more embarrassment I could take for one day.

  I followed him sheepishly out to the curb where a limo almost as nice as the ones Emma VanHorn provided for the Bridesmaid Lotto, waited. Not that I should be surprised. After all, this was a Prince we were dealing with.

  My heart started racing all over again, imagining all the Royal secrets I might learn, wondering what the protocol was for putting the really scandalous stuff in print. I probably didn’t have the greatest chance of revealing anything too steamy, but maybe I could find a way to sneak one or two fabulous little tidbits in here and there. Of course, to do that I would actually have to learn one or two fabulous little tidbits, but I was sure that wouldn’t be so hard considering I would be spending a bunch of time with Prince Leo himself.

  Eeee!

  I was so worked up over the whole thing again; I apparently forgot what I was supposed to do when a gentleman opened a door for me.

  “Miss McMaster?” my driver said.

  I snapped out of my thoughts and shook my head. “Sorry, I was just daydreaming, I guess.”

  Yes, that’s good; admit that you’re a total daydreamer. That’s the way to make a first impression. Sheesh.

  He smiled and didn’t even look too annoyed with me, thank goodness. I really wasn’t at my best given the long flight, made even longer by Missy.

  “How far are we going?” I asked, thinking I could really use a nice long, relaxing drive to wind down from all the traveling and try to compose myself for meeting the Prince!

  “Not too far, just a short trip out to the countryside. Shouldn’t be more than a half hour.”

  “Great,” I said, thinking that might be just the right amount of time to do a little yoga breathing and center myself.

  ~~~

  The views were absolutely spectacular. I didn’t remember ever seeing the world as green as it was in England, and the rolling hills were about the most charming thing I’d ever seen. Everyone was always talking about how the weather is so dreary in the UK, but it could not have been more gorgeous. It was the kind of day that just begged you to come outside and play.

  We turned off the main road onto a trail that disappeared into a forest, which we drove through for what must have been five full minutes at a leisurely pace, then suddenly, the tree line broke into a huge clearing with a lawn that could not have been more perfectly manicured, with flower beds surrounding it, bursting with color like I had never before seen in my life. It was like opening a page in a fairy tale.

  But all that was nothing compared to the castle that loomed up ahead. Seriously, a real, live castle! I mean, of course I knew there were castles in England and that the people who owned the castles would be rich, and you know, royalty, but of course my brain did not put all those variables together until the huge building came into view.

  And it was spectacular.

  I couldn’t even guess how big it was, or how many of my own apartments could have fit inside it, but it was huge, and to my utter delight, it even had the pointed turrets and everything, just like a proper castle should.

  “Welcome to Gatesbury Castle, Miss McMaster,
” the driver said.

  “Wow, I’ve never been to a house that had a name before,” I said stupidly. “Or to a castle for that matter,” which was probably a stupid thing to say too, since we were in England and people probably visited castles all the time in England.

  The driver just chuckled, allowing me to keep at least a tiny shred of my dignity.

  The gravel crunched under the tires as we pulled up to the front door, which could hardly even be called a door since you could probably fit a semi through it.

  As the driver got out and moved to open my door for me, I did my best to close my gaping mouth and step out of the car gracefully. So obviously, I stumbled over the loose gravel, sinking in with my new wedge sandals, which, though perfect for traveling, were apparently not so great for gravel driveways.

  I grabbed my carry on and followed the driver to the door, who, thankfully had the rest of my luggage and was having no trouble whatsoever with the stinking gravel. I however was struggling a bit with what had to have been six inches of deep, dusty, rock. So not shoe-friendly.

  The driver rang the bell and less than a second later, the door was opening. Seriously, the woman had to have been standing with her hand on the doorknob, which also meant she had probably witnessed my ungraceful trek through the dastardly gravel of doom. Ugh.

  “Miss McMaster,” the woman said, with a curt smile.

  I pasted on my very best smile and held my hand out to her. “Nice to meet you,” I said, beaming as brightly as I possibly could without looking possessed.

  The lady seemed to jump back slightly before finally taking my hand.

  Okay, so maybe I didn’t really succeed with the whole non-possessed thing.

  She was dressed all in black like she was in mourning or something, but perhaps even more startling than that was her extreme haircut, the most perfectly straight black hair I had ever seen, including the most perfectly straight bangs in the history of mankind. It did show off her eyes though, which were the lightest grey, almost like a wolf’s. I couldn’t figure out why she would dress so severely when she was around the same age as me, and could have totally been way prettier in something else, anything else, but I guess she just wasn’t into fashion or something.

  “I am Miranda Steeves, the Prince’s Executive Assistant.”

  “Very nice to meet you,” I said, wondering if you could actually have an Executive Assistant if you weren’t actually an Executive.

  I thought it best not to bring that up with Miranda though. She did not look like the kind of person who might find my random thoughts on life at all interesting or amusing. In fact, I had to admit, I was becoming more and more afraid that this woman would rather feed me to the dogs than show me to my room. Then that, of course, got me wondering whether or not there actually were any dogs. You know, the “unleash the hounds!” kind of dogs.

  I glanced behind me, but I saw no sign of dogs of any kind, or even a fence for that matter, though I suppose if you were a Prince you could afford those special zapping collar thingies where you didn’t need fences at all.

  Fortunately, Miranda led me into the house before I could think too much about it.

  I expected the inside of the castle to be dark and dank, you know, like you always see castles in movies, but this was bright and cheery and modern and pretty much the most perfect house on Earth. The large foyer opened up to a huge grand staircase, which led up to a hallway branching out to the left and the right at the top of the stairs. On either side of the foyer, large arched doorways led into rooms that seemed to go on endlessly. To the right was what looked like an entertainment room of some sort with a large space cleared out for mingling, and a baby grand at the far end. To the left was the biggest home library I’d ever seen. No, scratch that. The biggest library I’d ever seen, period.

  Sadly, I didn’t get much time for gazing—or more accurately, gaping—before Miranda began to lead me up the stairs.

  “This way please,” she said, all business, her heels clicking pointedly on the marble floor.

  So much for cozying up to the assistant to get the real scoop on the prince, I thought. Here I’d been daydreaming of becoming fast friends with the staff, getting the good gossip because of my real-world charm, which was something, I assumed, might be lacking in the house. Of course, I hadn’t thought of the fact that the staff might include secretary she-bots.

  Somehow I managed to catch myself before I started giggling over the she-bot images flashing through my head. Goodness knows I didn’t want Miranda thinking I was disrespecting her in any way—something told me I would come to regret it if she thought I was.

  Actually, I felt kind of like I was back in grade school and Miranda was the principal or something.

  She led the way down the long hallway, turning corners a few times, effectively making me panic about how I was ever going to find my way around the giant maze of a castle.

  Eventually, she stopped in front of a door. One of several doors in the wing that looked exactly the same, and I had absolutely no idea how I would ever find my way back. Maybe this was her way of not so subtly letting me know I was not to leave or something. Or maybe she was just enjoying watching me panic.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “You’ll figure out the layout of the castle in no time.” But the look on her face was more like she thought it would be a cold day in hell before my American butt would ever find my way around.

  Sadly, I was starting to think the same thing.

  ~ 3 ~

  Miranda swept open the door to the room, which was more like a suite really, and things began to look up.

  Way up.

  There was a living room, complete with TV, stereo, and office space—which would come in handy for the book—a separate bedroom with king bed, full walk-in closet and a bathroom the size of my entire apartment back home.

  Oh yeah, did I mention the Jacuzzi tub?

  The driver, who was still following us, set my luggage on the large bench in the closet and left without saying a word. I was guessing he was probably scared of Miranda too. Goodness knows I probably wouldn’t be saying anything more than was absolutely necessary to the woman.

  “Thank you!” I yelled out at him, mad at myself that I didn’t even catch his name.

  I turned back around to find Miranda giving me the dirtiest look. Apparently she wasn’t much for common courtesy. “Um, and thank you too Miranda, for showing me to my room.” I was thinking maybe she just felt left out or something.

  But the coolness in the next look she gave me was even more startling than the first. Sheesh, you just couldn’t win with some people.

  “I’ve been instructed to give you full access to the house and the grounds,” she said, looking like the words tasted bitter.

  “Great,” I said as sweetly as possible. “I’ll take all the access I can get to the Prince. I really want to get a feel for who he is as a person, deep down, not just a Prince.” I smiled.

  Miranda did not. She just stood there looking like something smelled funny. And really, it could have been me, since, you know, I’d been in the Economy section of the plane for so long and Missy had practically choked out our section with her ample perfume. Still, you’d think the woman could hide her distaste a little better than she was.

  But really, I had to thank her since it gave me the idea to have a nice long soak in that swimming pool sized Jacuzzi tub, and wash a little of that Missy-ness off me. And the moment she finally walked out of my room, instructing me that dinner wouldn’t be for three hours (and even though I was starving I didn’t dare ask for a snack), that’s exactly what I did. The counter was practically a bath supply store with every color and scent of bath salts, bubbles, and soaps you could imagine. I settled on a nice vanilla, cherry blossom combo and settled in.

  It was magical.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so pampered. Sure, the VanHorn wedding had only been a few weeks ago, and we’d all been treated to a spa day then, but that d
ay was about as far as you could get from relaxing.

  Lying there, finally with a moment to myself, I thought about Jake, wondering what he was up to, wondering when I would get to talk to him again.

  Being on different continents wasn’t going to make things any easier, but I was willing to do whatever it took to make sure everything stayed solid in our relationship.

  I was surprised at how quickly I started to get bored in the tub—I would have thought I’d have months’ worth of thoughts to catch up on—but it turned out I really didn’t. Of course, then I couldn’t help but wonder what that said about me, that I didn’t even have enough material to mull over for the length of a bath for goodness sake. Oh well, it wasn’t like there would be a shortage of things to do at the castle. There was still almost the whole place to explore, plus the grounds, not to mention finding out where the nearest town was and if I had access to a car to even get there if I wanted to.

  I also wanted to get started on the research I wasn’t able to do on the plane, since, you know, Missy was all over my business and I hadn’t even known who my subject was yet. I dressed in a cute sundress, which felt completely perfect for the country setting, and went to the office area of my suite to check on the Wi-Fi situation. Of course, as I should have known, the space was fully equipped with everything I was ever going to need including internet connection, fax machine, phone line, and one of those coffee makers with the little pods where you can make whatever kind of coffee or tea drink you like. I settled on a Cappuccino and plugged my laptop into the Wi-Fi.

  It was really rather maddening though, how little information was available on Prince Leo. There were countless appearances and photos, but there really didn’t seem to be that much substance about him in all of cyberspace. It was then that I realized how important this book could really be. All of England was probably dying to know the scoop on Prince Leo, and I was the one who was charged with giving it to them.