Rescuing the pregnant princess!
Faced with a royal scandal, pregnant princess Arianna fled to New York. But when a pickpocket leaves her penniless, she must turn to handsome restauranteur Max Brown for help...
Max canât resist rescuing this enchanting stranger, even if her mysterious past makes him wary. But as his newest (and worst!) waitress brings festive sparkle into his solitary life, can he hope Arianna is here for life...not just for Christmas?
Royal House of Corinthia
Royally wed...by Christmas!
This Christmas Princess Arianna and Crown Prince Armando of Corinthia are facing the biggest challenges of their lives.
Pregnant Arianna flees to New York to seek some privacy...only to find her very own Prince Charming!
Christmas Baby for the Princess
Available now
Crown Prince Armando needs a royal brideâso why canât he stop thinking about his assistant, Rosa Lamberti?
Winter Wedding for the Prince
Available December 2016
You wonât want to miss this delightfully emotional new duet from Barbara Wallace, brimming with Christmas magic!
CHAPTER ONE
HER WALLET WAS MISSING.
Arianna was going to be sick. Stomach churning, she slumped against the brick wall and took a shaky breath. Then she checked her bag a third time.
Lipstick. Hand sanitizer. Passport. No wallet.
How? She distinctly remembered double-checking her bag after paying for breakfast, and her wallet had been there, nestled against the silk lining.
Times Square. Thereâd been that woman who accosted her and needed help reading the subway map, and another man who jostled her while she was trying to break free. One of them must have reached in while she wasnât paying attention...
Stupid, stupid, stupid. This was what happened when you tried to run away from your problems: you got more. Arianna closed her eyes to keep the tears from burning their way free. A few weeks, a month at mostâthat was all sheâd needed.
For what had to be the one-hundredth time, she cursed her own foolishness. If she had listened to her instincts, she never would have had to run away in the first place. She wouldnât have to decide between a loveless marriage and a royal scandal.
Now, thanks to the pickpocket, she was going to have to make the choice sooner rather than later. Without money, she couldnât stay in America. She had no money for food, not to mention that the owner of that terrible hotel where she was staying expected her to pay her bill at the end of the week or, as he so sweetly said, he would toss her pretty rear end on the street.
Her child deserved better.
Amazing how one tiny pink line could change your life. When she first missed her period, she blamed stress. After all she and Manolo had just broken up. Besides, they had only been togetherâlike thatâtwo times. Two misguided attempts at deepening feelings that werenât there.
When the second month came and went, however, she couldnât blame stress anymore. The world stopped turning the moment she saw that extra pink line. She didnât know what do to, so she ran. Disappeared, so she could decide which of her no-win choices was the lesser of two evils.
Just then, a cold November wind blew down the street, the chill swirling around her shins before creeping up her skirt. Natureâs way of reminding her how serious her predicament really was. Tucking her collar about her throat, Arianna lifted her chin with royal stoicism. No sense dragging her feet. With luck, a decision about what to do would come to her while she was on a plane back to Corinthia.
A few feet ahead, a deliveryman exited one of the businesses, maneuvering his cart over the threshold with a clank loud enough to be heard over Manhattan traffic. The place was called the Fox Club, according to the letters emblazed on the side of the maroon awning. Goodness only knew what kind of club the place was, but no matter. It was open and, hopefully, had a telephone she could borrow.
Except it wasnât a club. It was a time portal. How else to describe what lay on the other side of the door?
The room looked like it belonged in an old-fashioned American detective movie, like the ones they sometimes played on television late at night. High-backed booths covered in rich burgundy leather, wood so dark it was almost black. Iridescent glass chandeliers that bathed the room with a smoky white light. The hair on Ariannaâs arms started to rise. Sleek and sensual, the entire space pulsed with expectancy. A simmering promise of something for all who walked in.