Home > Mistress To The Prince (Royal Cordova Family Trilogy #3)(11)

Mistress To The Prince (Royal Cordova Family Trilogy #3)(11)
Author: Elizabeth Lennox

Tara’s mother was the ultimate romantic, always professing that the right man was out there somewhere and she just needed to stop working so much and start looking for him.

“Remember, you’re not getting any younger,” her mother announced almost daily now.

“Yes, mother. I’m twenty six years old. I’m practically over the hill and if I don’t find someone to take care of me, I might need to remain an independent and satisfied woman on my own for the rest of my life,” Tara replied, not for the first time.

Tonight, Tara’s mother wasn’t taking any of her daughter’s sass. “Don’t take that tone with me, dear. I know you better than you think,” her mother came back seriously. “You’re not as different from me as you’d like to believe. You’d like a man to come along and sweep you off your feet and some day, when you decide it’s time for it to happen, it will,” she assured her. “You just need to be more open to the idea and get over this silly infatuation you have with our handsome prince.”

“Yes, Mother,” Tara sighed softly through the phone. “I know you’re right. I’ll call you later,” she said and ended the call. Unfortunately, her mother was right. Tara might look and pretend to be the hard core career woman, and she genuinely loved her job even on Prince Maximillian’s more ornery days like today. But she really did want a family as she’d told him earlier today. And her mother wasn’t far off. Tara wasn’t getting any younger. If she wanted to meet, fall in love with and marry a man, she needed to get on the ball and be out there. Maybe she should join a gym, get off work at a normal time, maybe spend some time….Tara shuddered at the idea of any couples options. They seemed just as slimy as blind dates. She knew it wasn’t her scene. But what was? Working alone for the rest of her life? Watching the man she really wanted from afar as he married someone else? That wasn’t a good option either.

She shook herself out of her mild depression, determined to figure out how to get over Max and find someone else. There had to be a way, she thought determinedly. Tara had only taken two steps away from the phone when it rang again.

She almost considered not answering it, afraid it might be another friend asking about her blind date of the previous night or even worse, one of them trying to set her up with another man. In the end, she knew she had to answer it. She was just too curious not to know who was at the other end of the line. ”Hello?” she said into the receiver.

“Tara Phillips?” a masculine voice asked.

“Yes. Who’s calling?”

“This is Greg Knight. I believe we have a mutual acquaintance. She told me to give you a call.”

“Ah! Cindy.”

“Yes. She’s a very nice person. Very persuasive. She told me to call you at work but then later, she called me back and asked me to call you at home instead. I’m sure there’s a story there but I’m not sure what it is,” he said with a laugh.

Tara had to give the man points for his laugh. It was very nice. Not strong and defined like Max’s but full of life and humor which was a good sign. A very good sign. Instead of coming up with a reason to ring off immediately, she hung on for a few moments, giving the man a chance, but not much of one, she knew. “Yes, well, I hate to do this, but I don’t think I’m comfortable dating someone a friend of mine meets in a coffee shop. Doesn’t it seem a little odd?”

“I agree” he chuckled awkwardly. “It seems a little weird. And normally, I would have turned her down flat and ignored her suggestion to call, but she said you were really wonderful and I should give you a call. So how about if we meet for coffee in a very public place and introduce ourselves? It could be a neutral place and no pressure.”

Tara hesitated for only a moment. He sounded normal and very nice. She had no idea what he looked like, but his voice sounded handsome. She decided it couldn’t be worse than last night as long as they stayed in a public place. And it was only a cup of coffee, she told herself. Making a snap decision, she gave in. “That sounds like a great idea. Where and when?”

“How about tomorrow morning at the same coffee shop I met Cindy this morning? It is on the corner of Elm and Maple. That way, if we can’t stand each other, we’ll just use the excuse that we need to get to work.”

Tara laughed. “Sounds perfect. And I know the coffee shop you’re talking about. I’ve met her there myself on the weekends. What time?”

There was a slight pause before he said, “I have an early meeting tomorrow. Can we make it early? Say around seven o’clock? Or is that too early for you?”

Tara was relieved. It would mean she could still get to work relatively early with Max none the wiser on her excursion. What he didn’t know, he couldn’t get mad about, right? “No, actually, that’s perfect,” she said.

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Greg said and hung up the phone.

Tara smiled as she hung up and walked into her bathroom and turned on the warm water. She was glad she’d answered the phone now. He might be an ugly, irritating man but he sounded nice and it would be one night when maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t dream about her handsome boss.

Chapter 5

She was wrong. No matter how much she’d thought about Greg’s voice, as soon as she fell asleep, her mind drifted off to its normal dream of being in the arms of Maximillian Marquesa.

She woke up the next morning and had to rush in order to meet Greg for coffee. But even after all her rushing, she still arrived before he did. Tara sat down with her cup of plain coffee and waited, wondering if he’d already showed up, saw her and turned around to leave. Each time a man entered, she watched him to see if he was looking for someone. Finally, fifteen minutes after seven, he showed up. As soon as he walked in, Tara knew this must be the guy. His eyes met hers and he smiled and walked over to her.

“Tara?” he asked.

“Yes. Greg?”

The relief on his face was apparent. “Sure am. Wow! I’m glad to meet you,” he said and shook her hand, his eyes never leaving her face. “Cindy wasn’t kidding when she mentioned that you were beautiful,” he said with enough enthusiasm to flatter her. “I’m sorry I was so late now.”

“Thank you,” she said and took in his features. Greg was in his early thirties and was only a few inches taller than she was, which made him about five feet nine or ten inches. He wasn’t overly muscular but he was thin. “Were you not sorry before?” she teased.

   
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