The Prince and the Wedding Planner

This time he knocked harder. Louder. “Bianca?”

With a resigned sigh, he turned toward his own private set of rooms. He’d taken no more than three steps when he heard her door swing open.

“Were you looking for me?”

He turned. “I was.”

“Sorry. I was out on the balcony, enjoying what’s left of this beautiful day.”

He retraced his steps. “Your room, is it to your liking?”

“Yes, it is. I think it’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever stayed in.”

“That’s good.” That’s good? Was that the best he could do?

But the thing was that every time he was within Bianca’s gravitational pull, it messed with his thinking. His thoughts got tangled and his words seemed to lack substance.

It wasn’t like him to be caught up in a beautiful woman. Yes, he’d admired many attractive women and he’d definitely enjoyed their time. But none of them had ever driven him to go out of his way to know more about them.

“I was just working on some preliminary plans for the wedding,” Bianca said, interrupting his thoughts. “Well, it’s more like a list of questions.” Her glittering brown eyes lifted until their gazes met. “Perhaps you’d care to help me.”

“Yes.” What was he saying? He knew next to nothing about weddings. And that was being generous.

But if this gave him more of an opportunity to spend time with Bianca, then he was all for it. He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. It was then that he inhaled the gentlest scent of wildflowers. It wasn’t the first time he’d come across the unique scent.

As he followed Bianca to the balcony, he realized it was her. She was the one who smelled like sweet blossoms. He didn’t think he’d ever come across a field of wildflowers without thinking of her.

When she came to a sudden stop, he nearly ran into her. As it was, his hands reached out for her tiny waist, his fingers wrapping around her so as not to bump her into the table.

She turned in his hands. “Sorry.” Their gazes met once more. This time he was holding her and he didn’t want to let go.

The breath hitched in his throat. His gaze dipped to her berry-red lips. They looked so full, so succulent. What would she do if he were to draw her to him and pluck a deep, long kiss?

He could have his choice of women. There was even a stack of biographies from available, eager women waiting for him on his desk. So why was he drawn to this quiet wedding planner?

Though Bianca was beautiful with her long loose curls, a golden complexion and dark lashes that framed her eyes, which were the mirrors to her soul, she was not from Patazonia. She was not royal. She was not even the daughter of an influential businessman. In his mother’s eyes, Bianca was a nobody.

But to him, she was intriguing. She was tempting. And the more time he spent with her, the more captivated he became.

As though Bianca could read his thoughts, she moved out of his grasp. “I... I meant to offer you some coffee. I just brewed a pot.”

He raked his fingers through his hair. A cup of coffee would be good. It would give his hands something to do besides finding their way back to her. Because if he were to pull her close again, he couldn’t guarantee that things wouldn’t move from a business relationship to something much more intimate.

“That sounds good.” He took a seat at the small table on the balcony.

A minute later, Bianca returned with a full cup. “I forgot to ask what you take in your coffee.”

“Black is fine.” Right now, he wasn’t sure he would actually notice what he was drinking. As Bianca took a seat next to him, his full attention returned to her. “How may I help with the wedding?”

She opened her laptop and moved her cursor to the top of a form. “Do you know approximately how many guests to expect?”

While the sun began its slow descent toward the horizon, he answered as many of her questions as he could. He surprised himself by how many details he’d picked up on by listening to his sister and mother argue.

He knew things about his sister’s dress. Whether the ceremony would be ultraformal. And he knew where the reception was being held. Even the number of courses to be served for dinner.

“I’d like to do something for my sister on her wedding day,” he said. “She’s making a lot of concessions to please my mother and go along with tradition, but I think she needs a chance to let down her hair and live it up on her big day. Do you have any ideas?”

Bianca stopped typing and thought for a moment. “Since the wedding is early in the day, you could do an after-party.”