The Prince and the Wedding Planner

“Okay. I’ll go.”

“Good. I can stop by your room on the way to the cocktail hour.”

That would be too much like a date and she needed to make sure the boundaries were clear. She couldn’t let herself get swept up in the evening. She was hired help. Nothing more.

“It’s okay. I’ll make my way.”

His e

yes reflected disappointment, but in a blink it was gone. “Very well. Cocktails are at six in the library.”

“I’ll see you there.” Bianca turned back to her laptop. She had so much work to do.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that the prince had given her a personal invitation to a very important dinner. The thought of spending the evening with Leo made her heart race.

She told herself not to get too excited about it because they would be surrounded by heads of state and dignitaries. And then there was the queen. Bianca didn’t care how much she told herself otherwise, that woman made her nervous.

* * *

This was it.

This was as good as it got.

Bianca gave her coral gown with its ivory and silver embellishments one last glance in the mirror. Her stomach shivered with nerves. She had no idea if she was overdressed or underdressed. Perhaps she should have consulted Giselle. She most likely wouldn’t have minded giving her some fashion tips. But it was too late for that now.

She ran a hand over her pulled-up hair. It was then that she noticed the slight tremor in her hands. How could she have gone to some of the biggest weddings in the world with Hollywood stars and politicians but this birthday party made her quake.

Bianca sucked in a deep breath. She had to get a grip. She checked the time on the delicate diamond-studded watch that her parents had given her on her sixteenth birthday. It was stunning and something she wore only on the most special of occasions. But when she wore it, no matter where she was in the world, it made her feel like her family was a little closer. And now with her parents both gone, that connection was more important to her than ever before.

Sometimes she felt like a leaf just tumbling in the wind. There was no true place where she fit in. Her brother knew it. Her sister wouldn’t say it, but she couldn’t deny it.

But if Bianca were to make her wedding business a success, she would have a sense of security. She couldn’t control the outcome of the DNA tests, but she could control the success of this wedding—so long as she stayed on top of every detail.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

Her cell phone vibrated against the white marble vanity. Knowing it could be about any number of things regarding the quickly approaching wedding, she rushed to grab it. When the caller ID showed her sister’s name, worry consumed Bianca for an entirely different reason.

“Gia, are the test results in?”

“Well, hello to you too.” Gia expelled an exasperated breath.

“Sorry. It’s just all this waiting. It’s getting to me.” If anyone would understand, it was her sister.

“You don’t have to worry.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s obvious you’re a Bartolini. You look just like Nonna when she was your age.”

“You really think so?” Bianca once more glanced in the mirror. She didn’t see it.

“I do. I’m the one who should be worried.”

“No, you shouldn’t. You were Papa’s favorite. And you can’t deny it.”

There was a moment of silence before Gia said, “That leaves Enzo.”

They both hurriedly agreed that it couldn’t be him. Could it? Secretly Bianca wondered if it was him as he and their father used to butt heads—a lot.