Courting His Royal Highness Read Online Free PDF Page A

prince?”
    “Yesterday”—Eric glanced at his Rolex watch—“at about this same time.”
    “Well, I’ll say it again and again and again. I’d rather be a regular guy.”
    “But you aren’t a regular guy.”
    Max sighed in defeat. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ve got duties to perform. I’ve obligations.”
    “Like marrying and having heirs.”
    He grimaced. “That sounds so medieval.” He hated feeling like a horse put to stud. “So, what does my family think of our little plan?” he asked.
    “They aren’t happy.”
    “Angry I didn’t talk about it with them first?”
    “Them, and the Romalia Royal Council.”
    Max was not a big fan of the Romalia Royal Council—the designated ruling body of his country. The fifteen-member council advised the royal family on everything. Heck, the council even picked out the shape of soaps in the guest bathrooms at the palace. Max thought the council too controlling and wanted to dissolve the governing body entirely. But doing was not within his power. At least not yet.
    Max preferred to live his own life, which was one of the reasons he loved America. The United States was a nation where a man could be true to himself and pursue and achieve his dreams. It was a refreshing change.
    Max didn’t really know what his dreams were. He’d never had time to think about what he wanted—his country always came first. He was a prince, and the duties and responsibilities of a prince came before individual dreams and aspirations.
    “But they can’t do a thing about it.”
    “Well, you did sign a contract with EVE. They are mad as hornets, but they agreed you must fulfill the contract.”
    Max grinned. For once he got to choose. It was a thrilling victory.
    “They also see a chance to generate some money into Romalia’s economy. You’ll probably be a big hit. American girls will flock to Romalia just to catch a glimpse of the famous prince. Think of all the money they’ll spend.”
    “So, they win and I win.”
    “Well, we certainly hope you find the girl of your dreams.” Eric pointed at the black appointment book. “Get showered and changed. We have a meeting to get to.”
    Max yawned. He jumped off the bed and walked into the bathroom.
    “Hurry up.”
    “Why did they schedule a meeting on Saturday morning”—Max squeezed out Crest toothpaste onto his bright red toothbrush—“especially after a big bash like last night’s?”
    “No idea. I guess they’re in a hurry.”
    “I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.”
    “Who? The girl from last night?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Who cares? You had one hot night. You’ll have dozens of women from all over the world to pick from. You’ll soon forget all about this Chloe girl.”
    Max started to brush his teeth, staring hard at his reflection. He doubted it. No man could forget Chloe. And why would he want to? She was gorgeous and sexy and warm and feminine. Most of all, she had somehow managed to weasel her way under his skin—which was not an easy thing to do.
    Nope. He wasn’t about to forget her. He just wished he had met her before he started his new job. Starting today, he was off limits for the women of the world—except for the fifteen women who would compete for his affection on the reality TV show he’d agreed to star in. But doing the show was his choice, the first choice he had made on his own in years. And it felt good. Damn good.
    * * * *
    Chloe was having a bad day. First, her cat vomited all over her new Anne Taylor suit. Then the only two pairs of nylons she owned managed to snag and run. She quickly applied self-tanner, but it turned her skin a horrible shade of orange. She raced to the mall, but Victoria’s Secret declined her credit card when she tried to purchase a new pair of hose. She did manage to come up with enough cash to buy the nylons after digging in the black hole that was her purse. To top it off, she spilled hot tea—blueberry-flavored—on her favorite pink blouse.
    Staying up late