Dumped by her long time lover while on a romantic getaway to Paris, Abby Fulton figures she’s had about enough heartache in her life. When a sexy seatmate on her long flight home takes an interest and offers some carnal diversions, a few naughty moments might be just what she needs to bolster the ole ego.
Prince Willem of Ragnovia loves being a playboy and when opportunity knocks for a little mile-high fun, he jumps at the chance. When fate turns in his favor and delivers the airline cutie right into his arms, a seductive game of cat and mouse is on.
Can Abby resist the charms of the handsome prince, or will she end up as another notch on his royal belt?
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A door opened and slammed. The voice in the hallway grew louder. Another door slammed. She lowered the volume and cocked her head to one side while she listened to the noise. Lord, but someone was singing out there! Badly.
The tune was becoming familiar but it was the same phrase over and over that got her attention. ‘You are so beautiful to me’. Hell, even Joe Cocker’s voice cracked on that one, and he was a professional singer. What made this idiot think he could do better?
Curiosity got the better of her, and Abby stood and crossed to the door. She peered through the peephole and then jumped back in surprise. The caterwauler wasn’t some unknown person serenading one of her neighbors. It was Will. And he was grunting out that song in front of her apartment.
“Will,” she hissed through the door. “Quit making a fool out of yourself and go away.”
The singing stopped long enough for the lovelorn prince to respond in his native tongue. “Can’t. My heart bids me to express myself in song.”
He continued singing, slightly off-key. Can’t you see-eeeee? You’re everything I hoped for…”
“Go away before someone calls the cops and you get arrested!” she demanded.
“I have diplomatic immunity. Everything I neeeeeeed.”
Abby dared another glance through the peephole. He was right up against her door now, serenading in all his talentless glory. “You are so beautiful to meeeeee.”
“Listen to her,” Abby’s neighbor from across the hall shouted. “Do us a favor and quit singing. You’re hurting our ears!”
“Shut up!” another neighbor hollered.
“I’m not listening, Will.” Abby walked away from the door with her hands over both ears. “Sing all you want, but I can’t hear you anymore.”
“You are so beautiful to me.”
Abby couldn’t stand it. She curled into the corner of her sofa and grabbed up two throw cushions and held them tight to either side of her head. They muffled the sound, but Will’s voice only seemed to get louder.
More doors opened and slammed in their disapproval, but Will didn’t stop. He raised his voice another decibel and kept right on singing. And then the neighborhood dogs joined in, in some sort of muttly harmony that only they understood. It was cruel torture to any music lover’s eardrums.
“Stop, stop!” Abby wailed. She turned up the volume on her television and pressed the pillows tighter against her ears. Anything to drown out the God-awful sound coming from the corridor.
Not surprising, it wasn’t long before a patrol car was dispatched to Abby’s apartment building and she heard the wail of the sirens. Within minutes, an officer was banging on her front door. She turned off the TV and gingerly lowered the makeshift ear muffs. Nothing. No singing, no dogs howling. Just a nightstick whacking at her door and an exasperated cop demanding her to open the door.
“Yes officer?” Abby opened the door a crack and eyed the policeman and his partner. Will was quietly visible in the background.
“You know this man?” The officer glanced at Will’s ID. “His Imperial Highness, Willem, the Prince Regent of Ragnovia?” He turned to his partner. “That’s quite a handle.”
Abby sighed. Any minute now, that sexy smile of triumph was going to cross Will’s face. “Yes,” she heaved a sigh. “I was his State Department translator.”
“Well, translate this,” the cop looked between Abby and Will. “You two will resolve this issue quietly. Don’t make us return for another noise complaint again tonight. Or you’ll both be locked up for violating the noise ordinance.”
Will just smiled and indicated his diplomatic passport.
“Tell him that if you don’t settle it, I’ll lose that passport until the judge appears in the morning.” With that, the policeman tipped his hat, motioned for his partner to join him, and headed toward the elevators. Another stern glance before they left the floor was enough to indicate that Washington’s Finest weren’t in a joking mood.
Will clasped his hands loosely behind his back, looked down at his feet and took a step toward Abby’s door. When he raised his head, his blue eyes were twinkling in that way that Abby knew they would. Triumph. “Now,” he said. “Shall we go inside and talk, or shall I start singing again?”