The Princess And The Duke. Allison Leigh
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“I know when a man has kissed me,”
she said to Duke Prescott. But Princess Meredith Elizabeth Penwyck wasn’t sure. Not at all. For all she knew, she might have imagined that returned pressure of his lips. That sense that he was kissing her back, feeling some semblance of the madness that had stricken her. Imagination? Wishful thinking?
His head lowered an inch and she barely kept herself from taking an unthinkable step away from him. “When I do kiss you, Your Royal Highness, I assure you that you’ll know it.”
She locked her knees to keep them from wobbling. “When?”
“If.”
“It’s not like you to retreat, Colonel. Or misspeak.”
“Of course.” His expression was once again frustratingly inscrutable. “Good morning, then, Your Royal Highness.”
Meredith watched him leave.
When he kissed her?
If only.
The Princess and the Duke
Allison Leigh
ALLISON LEIGH
started her career early by writing a Halloween play that her grade-school class performed for her school. Since then, though her tastes have changed, her love for reading has not. And her writing appetite simply grows more voracious by the day.
She has been a finalist for the RITA® Award and the Holt Medallion. But the true highlights of her day as a writer are when she receives word from a reader that they laughed, cried or lost a night of sleep while reading one of her books.
Born in Southern California, she has lived in several different cities in four different states. She has been, at one time or another, a cosmetologist, a computer programmer and a secretary. She has recently begun writing full-time after spending nearly a decade as an administrative assistant for a busy neighborhood church, and currently makes her home in Arizona with her family. She loves to hear from her readers, who can write to her at P.O. Box 40772, Mesa, AZ 85274-0772.
Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Prologue
“I am going to dance with him.” Meredith’s voice was soft, but filled with certainty. She smoothed her hands down the sides of her ball gown. It was the first time she’d been allowed to wear a strapless gown, and the pale, shimmering green fabric clung to her seventeen-year-old curves.
Her sister Anastasia made a skeptical noise beside her. “Then go ask him,” she goaded with the tormenting disgust of a sister three years younger. “If you are so certain.”
“Be quiet, Ana,” hushed Megan, often the voice of reason between her focused, intelligent older sister and her passionately opinionated younger sister. “Meredith, you have every male in this place under thirty years of age practically desperate to dance with you. I’m sure that Lieutenant Prescott feels the same.”
“He’s old enough to be her father. And he is on duty,” Anastasia reminded them sarcastically. “Remember?”
“The guards are allowed breaks,” Megan countered soothingly.
“Frankly, I can’t imagine what the appeal is,” Anastasia muttered.
“Keep your voice down, Ana,” Meredith warned softly. “Or perhaps you’d like your comments to be printed in tomorrow’s papers.” And the Lieutenant is seven years older than I am, she added silently with a mental, So there.
“Exactly,” Megan murmured. “The three sisters of Penwyck. Meredith the horny, Megan the boring and Ana the loudmouth.”
All three of them giggled, which they quickly curtailed when their mother sent them a long, telling look. They were supposed to be listening with dignified grace to their father while he gave his annual welcome to the Royal Spring Ball, not whispering and giggling. Even the boys, Owen and Dylan, despite being only twelve, were behaving more appropriately than the girls.
Meredith leaned over to Megan, who was a few inches shorter. “You’re not boring, idiot, and you know it.”
“But you do want to dance with Lieutenant Prescott,” Megan replied, her pretty green eyes laughing. “Is he the one who is going to give you your first kiss?”
Meredith felt her cheeks flush and looked guiltily toward the uniformed officer standing at attention near the open terrace doors.
He wore his formal army uniform, all gleaming black and gold buttons. The black beret with the gold trim set upon his head at a serious angle only added to his appeal, as far as Meredith was concerned. His chestnut-colored hair was cut militarily short, yet her fingertips still tingled from fantasizing about the feel of it. She easily imagined the steady weight of his gaze, even though she didn’t have a clue where exactly he was looking. The distance from where she stood with her family on the dais at the head of the grand ballroom to where he stood at attention near one of the sets of doors opening onto the starlit terrace was too great.
Silvery-green, she thought with a little sigh. Whether she could see them up close now or not, she knew exactly the shade of his silvery-green eyes. Almost exactly the shade of her gown. “He already did kiss me,” she murmured, and then laughed soundlessly at Megan’s gasp. “When I was ten, remember? The school did a summer project to rehabilitate that old mill up in the Aronleigh Mountains. His mother coordinated it through her school. I slammed my thumb with a hammer, and he kissed it better.” Of course, he’d done that with a great amount of sarcasm because she’d been very much on her royal high horse, but at this moment, she chose to ignore that.
“That’s right,” Megan whispered, leaning centimeters toward Meredith. “I’d forgotten that his mother was a teacher.”
“Both his parents died last year,” Meredith murmured, her gaze on the officer. Her heart had ached for his loss. She’d written a personal note to him when she’d learned of the auto accident that had claimed their lives, but hadn’t had the nerve to send it. The mere thought of the handsome young man reading words she’d penned had sent her heart into an absolute tailspin.
“Just admit it, Meredith,” Anastasia said, needling, “you want to kiss him.”
Meredith, smiling at the guests who had begun clapping at the conclusion of her father’s welcome, reached behind Megan and firmly pinched the back of Ana’s arm. Her youngest sister jumped, barely containing a yowl, and glared at Meredith, her vivid blue eyes flashing.
But all three girls went utterly silent when their mother, always strikingly