Page 24 of Royally Matched

“Of course it matters!”

“I don’t know.”

“What about you? Are you attracted to her?”

“Attraction is a very hard thing to define, Marco.”

“Well then, let me define it for you. Do you look at her with desire in your eyes and think you’ve got to kiss her, like, immediately?”

He shifts in his seat.

“I thought not. She doesn’t look like all your girlfriends, although she’s definitely as serious and boring as them.”

“Thank you.”

“Come on. You have a type, and Princess Sofia is not it.”

“Oh really? What’s my type? Actually, on second thoughts, don’t answer that.”

“Because you know I’ll say petite, blonde, probably an accountant or a lawyer, and most definitely Scandinavian?”

The princess is none of those things. She’s clearly not an accountant or a lawyer, and nor is she Scandinavian. With her dark hair, dark eyes, and olive skin, she looks thoroughly Ledonian, which means she’s not blonde, and although she’s probably only about 5 foot 5 or so, she’s curvy. Shapely. Sexy. I can tell, under her formal dress andprim and proper manners, she’s got the kind of body men go wild for.

Sue me. I’m a guy. I noticed.

“So, what if the princess isn’t my usual type. A woman is so much more than her looks.”

A thought occurs to me. “Are you doing it because she’s a princess? Is that what this is about?”

“Her membership in the royal family certainly has its appeal.”

I gawk at him. “So, this is a way to social climb? I didn’t think you went in for that kind of crap.”

“Marrying into the royal family will certainly open some doors for me. Surely you see that. It could be beneficial for all of us, you included.”

“How romantic of you.”

He gives me a sideways look. “You and I are very different, Marco.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I would never say yes to something like this. Not in a week of Sundays.”

“But she’s Princess Sofia, the most eligible woman in our country, possibly in all of Europe. That might not mean anything to you with your carefree lifestyle and lack of direction, but it does to me. And besides, I can tell that she’s a sensible sort of person, an altogether logical thinker. Pragmatic. I admire that.”

I throw my hands up in the air, pushing myself back in my seat. “And those are reasons to marry the woman?”

“I haven’t agreed to marry her. We’re not even in a relationship.”

“But that’s where it’s heading.”

“Marco, I don’t expect you to understand. You’re the youngest son. You don’t carry the weight of family responsibility on your shoulders the way I do. You can swan off around the world, doing whatever it is you want to do,which is wonderful for you. But I’m not like that. I never have been. I see a lot of me in the princess.”

I twist my mouth, my mind racing like a Formula One car around Monte Carlo. “Did you share something more than a few dances at the ball?” I ask, remembering how it felt when she looked at me like I was the only man in the room that night.

“We spoke.”

“About what?”

He pauses before he responds. “The weather.”