The Prince and the Wedding Planner

“I believe you mean with the wedding planner. And her name is—”

“I know what her name is. My question is what are you doing having intimate dinners with her?”

Leo refused to let his mother see that her question had poked him the wrong way. He met her gaze straight on. “They aren’t intimate.” Not anymore. “They are working dinners. Every evening, she dines with me and gives me a status report on the plans for the wedding.”

His mother crossed her arms. “You expect me to believe you’re really that interested in your sister’s wedding? It’s just an excuse to spend more time with that woman.”

“Bianca is her name. And I’d appreciate you using her name instead of calling her that woman—”

“See, I was right. She’s here because you’re interested in her.”

“She’s here because you won’t let Giselle have a hand in planning her own wedding and I don’t have the patience nor the time to babysit the two of you.”

His mother huffed. “Well, your dinner tonight will have to be cancelled.”

“And why would that be?”

“Because I’ve invited the Duke of Lamar and his daughter to dinner. You will be there and you will spend some time with her.”

“So this isn’t a state dinner, it’s a matchmaking ploy.”

“Call it what you will, but you can’t put off this marriage much longer. The press is already running negative stories about the royal family and your sister’s wedding isn’t enough to sway the growing discontent with the citizens. They believe you have no interest in governing this nation. And frankly, I’m starting to think they might be right.”

Leo stood. “If you believe that then you don’t know me at all.”

His mother arched a penciled brow. “Then I will see you at dinner.”

He didn’t want to go. He wanted to dine with Bianca. He’d been looking forward to that dinner—to, um, hearing about the latest wedding plans.

“I’ll be there.”

Without a word, his mother turned toward the door. “Don’t keep your visitor waiting.”

And with that his mother was gone.

His jaw tightened. He hated when his mother started throwing her weight around. He knew he’d started it by hiring Bianca without discussing it with the queen. But he knew she would have vetoed the idea. So he figured it was better to hire Bianca and hope for understanding than to mention it first and then go against his mother’s wishes.

When he’d hired Bianca, he’d never imagined she’d be such good company. He wondered what she was doing now. He grabbed his phone to text her.

Are you busy?

He waited. No response.

Can’t make dinner. Sorry. Something came up.

With a sigh, he placed his phone in his pocket. He’d put off meeting with—he glanced at his calendar—Jasmine Ferrara long enough. This was going to be more of a business interview than a date because he didn’t have any interest in romance.

His thoughts returned to Bianca. He hoped cancelling dinner wouldn’t cause any problems. From what he could see so far, Bianca was quite capable of making sensible decisions concerning the wedding. She didn’t need him looking over her shoulder, but he wasn’t willing to let go of their connection. He needed to be on top of things should his mother decide to cause trouble.

Or at least that’s what he told himself was the reason for insisting on dining with Bianca each evening. It had absolutely nothing to do with that unforgettable kiss. After all, he was supposed to be interviewing for a wife. He didn’t have the right to kiss Bianca—even if it had been the best kiss ever.

* * *

How could the day be over already?

Where had the time gone?

Bianca made her way back to her office within the palace walls. She had so many notes. It was going to take her hours to sort through everything. But she was supremely pleased with how much she’d accomplished.