The Prince and the Pie Maker (The Rebel Royals 2)

The moment their feet touched down on Cordovian soil, they were greeted with more flashes and shouted questions from the press. Some of the faces looked familiar. Had they all gotten on an earlier, faster flight?

“Smile,” Alex said into her ear. “Pretend you like me.”

Jan wrinkled her nose at him instead. He laughed and brushed his nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss. His lips he kept to himself.

The press ate up the show of affection. Cameras flashed. Pencils scribbled notes. More questions were shouted, asking for details about their love story. But Alex ignored them all and rushed Jan into a waiting town car.

Once they were inside the rear of the car, another blast of reality hit Jan. This time there was a tinge of worry that crept down her spine. “What are we going to tell Leo and Esme?”

“That we’re dating.”

“They’ll see through it. They won’t believe it.”

“Leo will be thrilled. He likes you.”

Maybe. More likely that Leo would be happy because Esme would be happy with this unexpected turn of events. Jan was sure her bestie would be the only one on board with the match.

“I still don’t think anyone will believe you’d marry someone like me,” she said.

“What?” He frowned. “You mean someone from New Jersey?”

Alex laughed, but Jan was serious. Their being together made no sense. She’d seen the women Alex had been associated with. Stick thin models who probably left the salad dressing on the side, and still didn’t eat it. Glamorous actresses who commanded the entire room’s attention when they walked in. She was neither of those.

“Jan, it makes perfect sense. Everyone knows my passion for food. Of course, I’d fall for a chef.”

“Maybe Giada.”

“An Italian chef?” he huffed. “I have standards.”

But Jan was too worried to laugh at his jokes. In no time at all, they pulled up to the castle. It looked just as majestic as when Jan had left it a few weeks ago.

Would she be living here full time? Would she have to get her own place? She didn’t even have any Cordovian currency.

Before her worry could escalate further, the door to the car was opened. Giles, the king’s right-hand man who wore a permanent scowl, stood on the other side. He bowed to Alex and inclined his head to Jan as they stepped out.

“His majesty would like a word in his office, your highness,” said Giles.

“Seems we have an audience with the king, my sweet,” said Alex.

“No.” Giles shook his head. “His majesty asked just for you. The future queen is in her rooms, Ms. Peppers, and has requested an audience.”

Nerves wracked Jan’s body as she determined how best to convince her best friend, the person who knew her best in the world, that she was in love and ready to marry a man whom she’d found insufferable just a few weeks ago. The doors to Esme’s rooms opened, and Jan saw her friend. Esme stood in the middle of an opulent room. The former kindergarten teacher was dressed in a designer top, which likely cost more than Jan made in a year, and fitted slacks.

Esme looked placid and expectant at Jan as she walked into the room. Esme crossed her arms over her chest, and that’s when Jan knew she was in trouble. Esme could still pull off the stern teacher expression. Jan was toast.

“That will be all,” Esme said to the small gathering of ladies who’d been sitting in the chairs sprawled throughout the room.

The women, similarly clad in expensive, designer dresses and suits, rose to leave. But not before sneaking covert glances at Jan. Jan felt like a prized hog on display, just before it was thrown into the oven for roasting.

The doors to the room closed, and she and her best friend were alone. Jan searched for something to say in the silence. Once she had an opening line ready, she lifted her head and was nearly bowled over by the impact.

Esme rushed to Jan and threw her arms around her. When she pulled away, she was beaming. “You’re going to be a princess!”

So much for convincing her friend about her fake love affair.

Chapter Thirteen

“What game are you playing at?”