The Prince's Cinderella Bride
From Texas nanny…to palace princess!
It should never have happened—the night of forbidden magic that turned Lani Vasquez and Prince Maximilian Bravo-Calabretti into lovers. After all, Lani knew all too well that an affair between a lowly nanny and the heir to the throne could only end in heartbreak—her own. Which was why she had to end it before she lost her herself completely…
His New Year’s Eve with Lani had rocked Max’s world—and now the Texas beauty wanted to be just friends? The single father had sworn he’d never marry again, but Lani had charmed his children and awakened his guarded heart. Will the prince catch his Cinderella before the clock strikes midnight?
Her heart kind of melted about then.
How could she help but melt? He not only made her want to rip off her clothes and climb him like a tree, but he was a very good man. He was constantly finding new ways to show her that he really did care about her and the things that mattered to her. It wasn’t his fault that she had trouble trusting her own emotions.
Her throat burned with all the difficult stuff she didn’t know how to tell him. “Max, I…” She had no idea where to go from there.
And then it didn’t matter what she might have said. He wiped her mind free of all thought by the simple act of lifting her chin lightly with his free hand and lowering his lips to hers.
* * *
The Bravo Royales:
When it comes to love, Bravos rule!
Dear Reader,
On the surface, they have nothing in common: the prince, Maximilian Bravo-Calabretti, heir to the Montedoran throne. And Lani Vasquez, nanny and aspiring novelist. But still, they become friends.
And then, on New Year’s Eve, everything changes.
Lani’s been avoiding him ever since. But Max is determined to break through her resistance and claim her heart at any cost. The man has no idea what a tough job he has ahead of him. Plus, Max has a few serious issues of his own to get through.
Every once in a while, I find myself writing a story where both the heroine and hero have far too many obstacles to overcome within themselves on their way to true love and happily ever after. Max and Lani’s story turned out that way.
For a long time as I was writing this book, I feared these two would never get beyond all the things holding them back—from the secrets in their separate pasts to the shells they’ve both built around their wounded hearts. Their journey is a rocky one.
I hope you’ll root for them the way I did. I really wanted Max and Lani to find their forever together. But I have to admit, more than once in the story, I wondered if such a thing was possible for them.
But then again, that’s why I write romance. Because no matter how rocky things get, love and forever are always waiting at the end.
Happy reading, everyone,
Christine
THE PRINCE’S CINDERELLA BRIDE
Christine Rimmer
Books by Christine Rimmer
Harlequin Special Edition
¶¶Resisting Mr. Tall, Dark & Texan #2125
§A Bravo Homecoming #2150
§The Return of Bowie Bravo #2168
°°The Prince’s Secret Baby #2180
¤¤The Last Single Maverick #2197
°°The Prince She Had to Marry #2221
°°The Rancher’s Christmas Princess #2229
°°Her Highness and the Bodyguard #2251
¤¤Marooned with the Maverick #2269
°°How to Marry a Princess #2294
°°Holiday Royale #2300
°°The Prince’s Cinderella Bride #2329
Silhouette Special Edition
∆The Millionaire She Married #1322
∆The M.D. She Had to Marry #1345
The Tycoon’s Instant Daughter #1369
∆The Marriage Agreement #1412
∆The Marriage Conspiracy #1423
**His Executive Sweetheart #1485
**Mercury Rising #1496
**Scrooge and the Single Girl #1509
+The Reluctant Princess #1537
+Prince and Future…Dad? #1556
+The Marriage Medallion #1567
§Fifty Ways to Say I’m Pregnant #1615
§Marrying Molly #1639
§§Stranded with the Groom #1657
§Lori’s Little Secret #1683
§The Bravo Family Way #1741
☐The Reluctant Cinderella #1765
§Married in Haste #1777
§From Here to Paternity #1825
ΩThe Man Who Had Everything #1837
§A Bravo Christmas Reunion #1868
§Valentine’s Secret Child #1879
°In Bed with the Boss #1909
§Having Tanner Bravo’s Baby #1927
§The Stranger and Tessa Jones #1945
§The Bravo Bachelor #1963
§A Bravo’s Honor #1975
§Christmas at Bravo Ridge #2012
§Valentine Bride #2023
§A Bride for Jericho Bravo #2029
¶McFarlane’s Perfect Bride #2053
§Expecting the Boss’s Baby #2077
§Donovan’s Child #2095
§Marriage, Bravo Style! #2101
Harlequin Books
Special Edition Bonus Story: The Anniversary Party—Chapter Two
Silhouette Books
Fortune’s Children: Wife Wanted
*The Taming of Billy Jones
∆The Bravo Billionaire
Montana Mavericks: Big Sky Brides “Suzanna”
Lone Star Country Club: Stroke of Fortune
Lone Star Country Club: The Debutantes
“Reinventing Mary”
*The Jones Gang
∆Conveniently Yours
**The Sons of Caitlin Bravo
+Viking Brides
§Bravo Family Ties
§§Montana Mavericks: Gold Rush Grooms
☐Talk of the Neighborhood
ΩMontana Mavericks: Striking It Rich
°Back in Business
¶Montana Mavericks:
Thunder Canyon Cowboys
¶¶Montana Mavericks:
The Texans Are Coming!
°°The Bravo Royales
¤¤Montana Mavericks:
Rust Creek Cowboys
Other titles by this author available in ebook format.
CHRISTINE RIMMER
came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a salesclerk to a waitress. Now that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining “life experience” for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oregon. Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com.
For MSR, always
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Excerpt
Chapter One
Maximilian Bravo-Calabretti, heir to the Montedoran throne, stepped out from behind a low cluster of fan palms and directly into the path of the woman who’d hardly spoken to him since New Year’s.
Lani Vasquez let out a small squeak of surprise and jumped back. She almost dropped the book she was carrying. “Your Highness.” She shot him a glare. “You scared me.”
The high garden path that wove along the cliffside was deserted. It was just the two of them at the moment. But anyone might come wandering toward them—one of the gardeners looking for a hedge to trim, or a palace guest out for a brisk early-morning stroll. Max wanted privacy for this. He grabbed her hand, which caused her to let out another sharp cry.
“Come with me,” he commanded and pulled her forward on the path. “This way.”
She dug in her heels. “No, Max. Really.”
He turned to face her. She flashed him a look of defiance. Still, he refused to let go of her soft little hand. Her sweet face was flushed, her thick midnight hair loose on her shoulders, tangled by the wind off the sea far below. He wanted to haul her close and kiss her. But he needed to get her to talk to him first. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Her mouth quivered in the most tempting way. “Yes, I have. Let go of my hand.”
“We have to talk.”
“No, we don’t.”
“We do.”
“It was a mistake,” she insisted in a ragged little whisper.
“Don’t say that.”
“But it’s the truth. It was a mistake and there’s no point in going into it. I don’t want to talk about it.”
And he didn’t want to hear that. “Just come with me, that’s all I’m asking.”
“I’m expected at the villa.” She worked as a nanny for his brother Rule and his wife. They owned a villa in the nearby ward of Fontebleu. “I have to go now.”
“This won’t take long.” He turned and started forward again.
She let out a low, unhappy sound, and for a moment, he was certain she would simply refuse to budge.
But then she gave in and followed. He kept hold of her hand and pulled her along. Not glancing back, he cut off the overlook path and onto the rocky hillside, finding a second path that twisted up and around, through a copse of olive trees and on to where the land flattened out to a more cultivated formal garden.
High, green hedges surrounded them, and they walked on thick grass. The grass gave way to a rose garden. Now, in February, the buds were only just forming on the thorny stems. Beyond the budding roses, he took a curving stone path beneath a series of trellises. Still she followed, saying nothing, occasionally dragging her feet a little to let him know she was far from willing.
They came to a gate in a stone wall. He pushed through the gate and held it for her, with his free hand, going through after her and then closing it behind them.
Across another swath of lawn, between a pair of silk floss trees, the stone cottage waited. He led her on, across the grass, along the stepping-stones that stopped at the rough wood trellis twined with bare, twisted grapevines. The trellis shaded the rough wood door.
He pushed the door open, let go of her hand and ushered her in first. With a quick, suspicious glance at him, she went.
Two windows let in enough light to see by. Sheets covered the plain furniture. It took him only a moment to whip off the coverings and drop them to the rough wooden floor, revealing a scarred table with four chairs, a sofa, a couple of side tables and two floral-patterned wing chairs. The rudimentary kitchen took up one wall. Stairs climbed another wall to the sleeping area above.
“Have a seat,” he offered.
She pressed her lips together, shook her head and remained standing by the door, clutching her book tightly between her two hands. “What is this place?”
“It’s just a gardener’s cottage. No one’s using it now. Sit down.”
She still refused to budge. “What are you doing, Your High—?”
“Certainly we’re past that.”
For a moment, she said nothing, only stared at him, her dark eyes huge in the soft oval of her face. He wanted to reach out and gather her close and soothe all her troubles away. But everything about her warned, Don’t touch me.
She let out a breath and her slim shoulders drooped. “Max. Really. Can’t you just admit it? We both know it was a mistake.”
“Wrong.” He moved a step closer. She stiffened a little, but she didn’t back away. He whispered, “It was beautiful. Perfect. At the time, you thought so, too—or so you said.”
“Oh, Max. Why can’t I get through to you?” She turned from him and went to one of the windows.
He stared at her back, at her hair curling, black as a crow’s wing, on her shoulders. And he remembered...
It was New Year’s Eve. At the Sovereign’s New Year’s Ball.
He asked her to dance and as soon as he had her in his arms, he only wanted to keep her there. So he did. When the first dance ended, he held her lightly until the music started up again. He kept her with him through five dances. Each dance went by in the blink of an eye. He would have gone on dancing with her, every dance, until the band stopped playing. But people noticed and she didn’t like it.
By the fifth dance she was gazing up at him much too solemnly. And when that dance ended, she said, “I think it’s time for me to say good-night.”
He’d watched her leave the ballroom and couldn’t bear to see her go. So he followed her. They’d shared their first kiss in the shadows of the long gallery outside the ballroom, beneath the frescoes depicting martyred saints and muscular angels. She’d pulled away sharply, dark fire in her eyes.
So he kissed her again.
And a third time, as well. By some heady miracle, with those kisses, he’d secured her surrender. Lani led him up to her small room in the deserted apartment of his brother Rule’s family. When he left her hours later, she was smiling and tender and she’d kissed him good-night.
But ever since then, for five endless weeks, she’d barely spoken to him.
“Lani. Look at me....”
She whirled and faced him again. Her mouth had softened and so had her eyes. Had she been remembering that night, too? For a moment, he almost dared to hope she would melt into his arms.
But then she drew herself up again. “It was a mistake,” she insisted for the fourth time. “And this is impossible. I have to go.” She headed for the door.
He accused, “Coward.”
The single word seemed to hit her between the shoulder blades. She let go of the doorknob, dropped her book to the rough entry table and turned once more to meet his waiting eyes. “Please. It was just one of those things that happen even though it shouldn’t have. We got carried away....”
Carried away? Maybe. “I have no regrets. Not a one.” He was glad it had happened, and on New Year’s Eve, too. To him it had seemed the ideal way to ring in a whole new year—and right then, a dangerous thought occurred to him. God. Was there a baby? If so, he needed to know. “We should have been more careful, though. You’re right. Is that why you keep running away from me? Are you—?”
“No,” she cut in before he could even get the question out. “We were lucky. You can stop worrying.”
“I miss you,” he said, before she could start in again about how she had to go. “I miss our discussions, our talks in the library. Lani, we have so much in common. We’ve been good friends.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffed. But there was real pain in her eyes, in the tightness of her mouth. “You and I were never friends.” All at once, her eyes were too bright. She blinked aw
ay tears.
He wanted only to comfort her. “Lani...” He took a step toward her.
But she put up a hand and he stopped in midstride. “We’ve been friendly,” she corrected. “But to be more is beyond inappropriate. I work for your brother and sister-in-law. I’m the nanny. I’m supposed to set an example and show good judgment.” She swallowed. Hard. “I never should have let it happen.”
“Will you stop saying that it shouldn’t have happened?”
“But it shouldn’t have.”
“Excuse me. We are two single adults and we have every right to—”
“Stop.” She backed a step toward the door. “I want you to listen, Max. It can’t happen again. I won’t let it.” Her eyes were dry now. And way too determined.
He opened his mouth to insist that it most certainly would happen again. But where would such insistence get him? Except to send her whirling, flinging the door wide, racing off down the walk and out the gate.
He didn’t want that. And arguing with her over whether that unforgettable night should or should not have happened was getting him nowhere, anyway. They didn’t need arguing. They needed to reestablish their earlier ease with each other.
So in the end he answered mildly, “Of course you’re right. It won’t happen again.”
She blinked in surprise. “I don’t... What are you saying?”
“I’ll make an agreement with you.”
She narrowed her eyes and peered at him sideways. “I don’t want to bargain about this.”
“How can you know that? You haven’t heard my offer yet.”
“Offer?” She sneered the word. He held his silence as she nibbled her lower lip in indecision. Finally, she threw up both hands. “Oh, all right. What, then? What is your offer?”
“I’ll promise not to try to seduce you,” he suggested with what he hoped was just the right touch of wry humor, “and you’ll stop avoiding me. We can be...” He hesitated, remembering how she’d scoffed when he’d called them friends. “...what we used to be.”
She aimed a put-upon look at the single beam in the rough-textured ceiling. “Oh, come on. Seriously? That never works.”
“I disagree.” Light. Reasonable. Yes, just the right tone. “And it’s unfair to generalize. I think it can work. We can make it work.” Until she admitted that being what they used to be wasn’t nearly enough. Then they could make it work in much more satisfying ways.