Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 16789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
“Whatever it takes to get you home.” This is getting out of control. Milly is so busy with her pregnancy and new husband, we barely see each other anyway.
“I promise, I’m coming back.” Sheesh. “In two weeks,” I add before she can say, “I have a bad feeling about this,” again.
“You can’t miss Christmas.” My bestie is pulling out all the big guns.
“I’ll be back before Christmas.” I promise her for the millionth time.
Since I won this trip to the Bahamas, my oversuspicious friend has been worrying that my windfall isn’t on the up and up, but I refuse to let her talk me out of it. So what if I have to go alone. A private jet ride to Nassau and fourteen days on a Caribbean beach filled with hot dudes. Heck yes, I’m going. “I checked out the organization that gave me the trip, and they are completely above board.” Okay. I might not remember entering the contest, but I must have. After all, I freaking won it.
“Text me when you get there and call me every day or I’m sending the FBI to look for you. And my husband has the connections to make it happen.” Good God. That’s what happens when your best friend is a princess. An actual real-live princess.
“I’m surprised your husband let you drive me to the airport.” I change the subject.
“Christopher is following closely behind us.” I’m not surprised. Her bodyguard is always somewhere in the background. Prince Damien doesn’t let Milly out of his sight for long.
A small jet is waiting on the runway when we arrive. “See?” I tell her. “Everything will be fine. If this was a scam, hiring a private jet would be taking things a little too far.”
“Don’t forget…” Milly calls to me before I step onto the plane.
“I know,” I interrupt her before we can go into the whole spiel again. “I’ll call, text, and video call you.” Before she’s able to argue any more, I give her a wave and board the plane. Wow. This is a nice plane. I glance around the spacious cabin, feeling a tiny bit of trepidation.
“Good afternoon, Ms. LeBlanc. I’m Ellen.” I turn to find a smiling flight attendant with a Santa Claus hat on her head standing behind me. “Please choose whatever seat you’d like. Can I get you a drink before we take off?”
“Just a bottle of water.” I smile back. I don’t want to drink too much since I’m claustrophobic and tiny-bathroom-planes trigger my anxiety. I’m not sure what would be worse, getting stuck in a bathroom and having to stay in there several hours until the plane lands or having the plane make an emergency landing. Neither option is a good one, so I’ll go easy on the fluids.
The flight attendant comes back and gives me a few emergency instructions, and then we take off. I’m starting to doze off when the pilot comes over the loudspeaker. “Sit back and enjoy your flight, Ms. LeBlanc. We have a short stopover to refuel in New York, and then we’ll have our long leg.” I admit I’m not a frequent flyer, but flying from Texas to New York to refuel sounds like an insane idea. I’m sure they have some reason for doing it that way.
Once the plane levels off, I lay back and tell myself I’ll close my eyes and rest. The next thing I know, the captain’s voice is echoing around the cabin again. “This will be a brief stop.”
I close my eyes again and ignore everything going on around me. My eyes pop open when I hear voices at the front of the plane. Huh? That voice sounds vaguely familiar. Leaning over, I glance down the aisle and get the shock of my life. Surely, this is a hallucination. Or I’m still sound asleep and this is a dream. I reach down and pinch myself. Ouch. It isn’t a dream.
Next, I squeeze my eyes shut and count to ten before opening them again, expecting the King of Belldonnia to disappear. But he’s still standing there. Oh my. I’m used to seeing him on the news in expensive business suits, not jeans and an emerald green polo shirt stretched tight across his muscular chest. His dark, wavy hair looks untamed today, and my fingers itch to run through its thick depths. My eyes act without consulting my brain and move over his hot body. When he glances up and catches me staring, I feel my face turn bright red.
“Good evening.” My hallucination is talking to me. “I hope your flight has been satisfactory.” Uh, it was up until I woke in wonderland. Or maybe this is an alternate universe.
I squeeze my eyes shut again, hoping the tactic works better. I peel one eye open and expel the breath I’ve been holding. Nope, he’s still there. And King Lorenzo has grown even hotter with time. I haven’t seen him in person since the palace Christmas party five years ago. I was sixteen and shy. Milly’s dad was the US Ambassador to Belldonnia. My best friend hated going to state dinners alone. She said the adults would talk over her like she wasn’t there.