The Billionaire Prince’s Daughter (European Billionaire Beaus 2)

What was the show going to be about?

It was times like this when she couldn’t get their night in New York City out of her head. And she needed to, because Amy’s top agenda item for the evening was to sell Artur on the idea of finding a girlfriend during the tour. Artur had firmly vetoed the idea of pre-arranged dates for him at every tour stop, but Amy had a few ideas up her sleeve for how to get around that.

It could be a long shot, given that he’d planned some kind of show for her, but she’d already hired a matchmaker and started vetting the women. Not that Artur needed to know that.

She knocked on the gleaming mahogany doors to Artur’s suite and took a deep breath.

The door opened.

“Hello, Ms. Branch.”

God, Artur was attractive.

He leaned down and kissed her cheek, then held out his arm and ushered her in.

“Hi,” she said, all her other words sticking in her throat.

One step into the room, and she was speechless.

Amy felt her mouth hanging open and snapped her lips shut, but she couldn’t help it. This was amazing.

She’d never seen Artur’s suite before, but she was reasonably sure that, before tonight, it hadn’t been a high-end boutique with racks of clothing and outfits already paired on mannequins. And all of it was maternity.

“I—how—”

“I have my ways,” Artur said with a delicious laugh. “Take all the time you need to shop.”

A woman stepped forward and Amy noticed her for the first time. “I’m Josia, your stylist. Is there anything you were looking for in particular?”

“All of it,” Amy whispered. “But—” She tried to get ahold of herself. “Work clothes, mainly, but—”

“But you’re going to be in the public eye, on a goodwill tour. It can’t all be business suits.” Josia led her toward the first rack, and Amy was lost.

Artur sat in an overstuffed chair to the side, sipping a glass of wine and offering suggestions. “There’s a blue dress on the third rack that’s particularly striking.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “How do you know it’ll fit?”

“Everything here is your size.”

“How do you know—” She shook her head. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

He grinned at her. “It’s all your style, too.”

How long was it before the stylist excused herself, pulling a rack filled with Amy’s newly selected wardrobe behind her? It would all be cleaned and packed while she was at dinner and ready to depart with her the next morning. “I’ll leave the rest for you in case you want to choose a few more items,” Josia said with a nod. “The dress is a perfect fit.” Amy had changed into the blue dress to try it on, and she was still wearing it.

Artur stood up from the chair and came to stand beside her. She looked up at him, heart leaping, face hot. “How did you know to do all this?” Her voice came out lower than she’d intended, more sultry. “Not just maternity clothes, but finding things in the styles I like, the colors I usually wear?”

He shrugged, a sly smile coming to his face. “I looked you up. After that night at the gala—” Desire flashed through his eyes. “I did some poking online to learn more about you. It wasn’t hard to find photos of you looking gorgeous. I gave them to the stylist for reference.” He leaned in, brushing another kiss against her cheek. “The dress, though—that was me. And it looks stunning.”

“…Thank you.” She reached behind her, but it was a stretch. “Could you unzip it for me? I’d hate to get any food on it.”

“Gladly.” But Artur didn’t turn her around to unzip the dress. He kissed her, his mouth hot and possessive on hers, one hand slipping easily around her waist.

The kiss deepened into something that had Amy’s body curving toward his...

...and the door opened behind them.

“Please excuse me,” Josia said, coming into the room at top speed. Artur stood up tall, the back of his hand at his lips. Josia stopped, but it was too late. The moment was over. “I just came back for—” She hustled to one of the racks and whipped a slip off of it. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”