Free Courting His Royal Highness by Amy Hahn

about actors and actresses, she had never really been interested in European royalty. She knew about the family Windsor, but that was about it. It was Julia who was enthralled by their comings and goings and romantic interludes.
    “How are you going to keep from jumping his bones?”
    “I don’t know. I just don’t know,” Chloe admitted softly. “I’ve been wondering that all day long.”
    “I take it back.”
    “What?”
    “You being lucky. You might just be the unluckiest woman I know—or at least the most sexually frustrated.”
    “Gee, thanks.”
    “I mean, you’re going to be tortured every day, watching him date other women, kiss other women, select another woman to be his bride.” Julia shivered. “Horrible, absolutely horrible. Can’t you switch roles with someone?”
    Chloe wished she could. Boy, did she ever.
    What a fine kettle of fish she’d gotten herself into. What a fine kettle of fish indeed.
    * * * *
    The door flew open before Max could ring the doorbell.
    He grinned. Chloe stood in front of him, her dark hair floating down about her slender shoulders, her chocolate-brown eyes gazing up at him in surprise.
    “Hi.”
    “Hi.”
    She looked good, deliciously good, dressed in low-rise jeans and a silky camisole of pale green. The scent of apples and cinnamon drifted about him, embracing him.
    “I hope you don’t mind.”
    “What?”
    “I suggested to Toni and Lester that we could ride to the airport together.”
    Chloe leaned against the doorframe. She peered over his shoulder at the sleek black limo. “Yours?”
    He glanced over his shoulder and then back at her. “Yep. Guilty.”
    She smiled. “A private plane. Your very own limo. What’s it like to be you?”
    He shrugged. “It has its perks.”
    “I bet,” she laughed.
    He loved her laughter. She had a beautiful laugh—loud and real and unpretentious. It was a refreshing change from other women he knew. Most were snobs and tended to think laughter and a sense of humor were not attractive feminine qualities.
    Max was definitely looking forward to spending some time alone with Miss Chloe Tanner. He wanted to hear more of her laughter and watch the emotions flicker across her expressive face. Her chocolate eyes sparkled. He recalled how they had darkened with passion.
    Would he ever forget the night they’d shared? Probably not. She had already lingered in his mind longer than any other woman had. There was something special about Chloe. She affected him. And very few women could affect him.
    He inclined his head towards the two large navy suitcases at her feet. “Can I help?”
    “That would be great. Thanks.”
    He reached for the piece of luggage and noticed for the first time the girl standing at Chloe’s right shoulder. Her brilliant blue eyes, as wide as an owl’s, gazed into his. He groaned inwardly. He knew the look. It was the star-struck look women always seemed to get when they were around him. He was used to it, but he still didn’t like it. They looked at him as if he were a god to worship instead of just a man.
    “And you are?” he asked politely, offering the tongue-tied woman his famous dimpled smile. It was automatic. It was the smile he used at all social functions, at royal ceremonies, at charity fundraisers, and for magazine covers.
    Chloe looked mortified. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. Max, this is Julia. Julia, this is Prince Maximilian of Romalia.” She blushed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t remember your entire name.”
    “It’s a mouthful,” he agreed. “Even I forget. I prefer Max. A pleasure to meet you, Julia.”
    “Prince Maximilian Alexander Henry Tarleton Radborne of Romalia,” Julia sighed dreamily.
    Yep, she was completely star-struck. Any woman who actually knew his complete name was head over heels infatuated with him. There was no saving her now. Her eyes glazed over, and her mouth curved open in an astonished O.
    “You actually know his complete name?” Chloe