A DASH OF TEMPTATION.

"You are being unnecessarily difficult" King Robert Rimmer yelled at his daughter. This wasn't so hard, he thought. He never complained when it was his turn. So why was it so hard for his own child to come to terms with it.

"How the hell am I being difficult" his daughter Bonnie Rimmer yelled back. "I'm standing up for what I believe in...just like you taught me to do"

"Don't take that tone with me young lady, and definitely not that language either" Robert said, "When I said 'stand up for yourself', I didn't mean defying everything I have taught you to be including the traditions of this kingdom"

Bonnie scoffed. "Kingdom?" she repeated. "Dad, I know you are old, but you are not that old. It's not eighteen, sixty four anymore, Dad. What you are asking me to do is stupid. No offense."

"Oh, I take offense. I take a lot of offense. You act like I'm sentencing you to death."

"You are asking me to get married to a man I barely know, so yes. You are sentencing me to death' Bonnie retorted.

"You are doing it for the kingdom, Bonnie" Robert said, deciding to try a new tactic. Talking to Bonnie calmly always worked. Sometimes, the best way to make someone do something is by making then think the idea was theirs. That way, they felt like they were in control. He placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her down into the couch. "Getting married to Prince Marcus is your duty. It will be good for the kingdom if the both of you get married."

Bonnie pushed away his hand and jumped to her feet. "Maybe I don't care about the kingdom" she said.

"You don't mean that" Robert said.

"Oh I definitely do. I don't care about the kingdom enough to get married to a man I don't know."

"How can you say that? You do know him"

"I met him a couple of times and I found him extremely annoying, boring, and full of himself. Just the thought of getting married to him makes me want to puke over and over again. I cannot even imagine spending the rest of my life with him. You can't make me do this, Dad. If I ever get married, it's not going to be for duty so you better drop the topic because I can't think of anything else more miserable than being in a loveless marriage. You can't just push someone at me. That's not the way it works...and you of all people should know that. You have mom"

She turned to go....

"I was in a loveless marriage....once" Robert said.

Bonnie stopped in her tracks and turned to face her father. She was sure she heard him wrong. "What? You were married to someone else before you married mom?" she asked.

"No. I meant with your mom"

"That's impossible. Why didn't you and mom ever say anything about it to me?"

"Because I didn't see the point". Robert replied. "Telling you about it felt like I was ruining something beautiful. I didn't even meet your mother until the day of our wedding. We had an arranged marriage. We couldn't even look at each other. In was in love with another girl and your mother wanted nothing to do with me. She said I had big eyebrows and a low IQ. Anyways, one day I got very sick with fever and your mother...she stayed by my side and she took good care of me. For the first time, I appreciated her. Then the appreciation grew to respect. Respect grew to like...and then like grew to love. A deeper love than I could ever hope for. Give Marcus a chance. Maybe you don't like him now, but you might grow to love him later. I should have told you about your mother and I a long time ago. Maybe if I had, then you would feel differently about love.

Bonnie was speechless. Her parents were the most in-love people she had ever met and she couldn't imagine a time when they weren't in love with each other. Through out the years, their love seemed to only grow stronger and they were inseparable everyday.

"I'm not sure that I feel anything about love. Why didn't you guys ever tell me?" she asked.

"Because there was nothing to say" Robert replied. "By the time we had you, we had fallen madly in love with each other and I didn't see the point."

"Until now?"

"Yes. Until now" Robert replied, and stood up. "Look dear, just think about it....maybe it's not going to be as bad as you think.

----------------------

"This is ridiculous. Definetely crazy and ridiculous. What the hell am I doing getting married?"

Bonnie Rimmer stared at herself in the full-length mirror and wondered if she was real. She pressed her damp palms against her colorless cheeks and sighed. The neatly arranged cascading raven curls perfectly framed her expertly made-up face. The diamond choker sparkled against her pale throat.

The weighty emerald engagement ring that dragged her down like an anchor sparkled against the late afternoon sun. The rays streaming through the bay window of the bridal suite. She'd grown up here. Never left home or traveled on her own except for school and royal stuff. She was never left alone...always surrounded by guards and maids to attend to her every need like she was a helpless puppy and it was annoying most of the time.

But yet she had stayed and did everything she was asked to do...everything a princess was supposed to do. And now she was doing this too. Her father had succeeded in convincing her that this was the right thing to do ....again. So here she was. She was getting married to a man she didn't love and barely knew, but her father said it didn't matter. Love could come later in the marriage and what mattered more now was duty.

"Oh Grams, where are you when I need you?" Tears of grief stung the back of her throat. It had been two months since her grandmother had died; two months that had passed excruciatingly slow and yet flashed by in the blink of an eye. She couldn't really talk about this with her mother, who sided with her father on this matter.

Prince Marcus Walker, her future husband and her father's latest business partner, someone who could ensure more fortunes for generations to come, should have been a dream come true. He seemed to have everything a woman should want in a man. He was handsome, wealthy, charming. Oh, so very charming. ...But for some reason he wasn't what she wanted....and truth be told, she didn't even know what she wanted.

Maybe he was even too charming... Bonnie thought and frowned...in an annoying kind of way.

Prince Marcus had turned his attention on Bonnie the instant he'd seen her at her father's birthday a year ago. Marcus had been exciting and different...but he wasn't to her, and she didn't quite understand why most of the ladies had their heads spinning over him. Maybe she was just different , but given his interest, her father had probably been thrilled and most definitely been charmed by him.

Right now, she was neck-deep in sleepless grief over having lost her grandmother, Bella Rimmer who had been one of the parental figures she had had growing up, and she hated that she was going through this without her.

Bella Rimmer, teenage bride, WWII factory worker, former CEO of Rimmer International, mother of four sons, only two of whom had lived past childhood, would have moved heaven and earth for Bonnie;

Had moved it, in some respects. Before Bella's death, Bonnie was sure that father never would have considered pushing her into marriage, let alone into one that would solidify his business connections. Her grandmother never would have allowed it unless she was convinced it was what Bonnie wanted. But what she didn't understand was how her father, Bella's own son had had an arranged marriage too. Maybe she just assumed wrong...or maybe her grandmother had changed over the years.

She had thought that she could do this. ..to do her duty. At least she had thought so until fifteen minutes ago, when she'd looked at herself in the mirror.

And didn't see a trace of herself. This wasn't her. This was not what she wanted.

"I need help, Grams." She said, The whispered plea echoed in the empty room, against the brocade curtains, the striped gold wallpaper and the silver tray that housed a champagne bucket and glasses. The one-of-a-kind designer gown felt like a strait jacket despite the strapless corset top. The sweeping, elegant tulle skirt with satin lining brushed against the floor. Embroidery, beads, rhinestones and appliqué added intricate patterns of perfection any bride would be thrilled with. Yet all Bonnie could hear, even above the lapping waves of the marina and the cries of seagulls, was her panicked breathing and the voice screaming in her head that something wasn't right. That she was making a very horrible decision. Maybe an irreversible mistake.

She gripped her skirt in her fists and moved to the French doors overlooking the marina. The ocean. Peace instantly settled over her; the water always had provided solace. It had been her grandmother's coping mechanism, as well, one Bella had embraced fully a few years before when she'd purchased a cozy home on the beach less than ten miles from where Bonnie currently stood-a house Bonnie was poised to inherit now that Bella had died.

"What are you doing?" Faith, her cousin and maid of honor, rushed into the room. Her expression was frantic, her long blond locks solidified with enough hair product to supply a salon. "Let go of your dress! It's getting wrinkled and you know that everything has to be perfect. You have pictures in less than fifteen minutes." She slapped at Bonnie's hands, kneeled down and smoothed the expensive material.

"There. It's okay." Faith let out a long, relieved breath. "I don't think we need to steam it again."

"I can't do this." The words were barely a whisper. Bonnie cleared her throat. "I can't marry Prince Marcus."

"Don't be silly-of course you can." Faith stood and flipped a curl behind Bonnie's shoulder. "Prince Marcus is a woman's dream come true...every womans dream come true. What you are feeling right now is just last-minute jitters."

But Bonnie also noticed that Faith didn't meet her gaze. If anything, she seemed to be purposely avoiding it.

"I don't love him. I don't know anything about him. I don't know him." Not the real him, Bonnie thought. Oh, he was a pretty enough picture and well established in the financial world, and oh, he was a prince too. Everyone seemed to keep reminding her about that, but what were his dreams? His ambitions? And he'd never asked about her dreams, her plans. Her...

"What's to know?" Faith asked. "He's crazy about you and he can pay for and provide you with anything you could ever want or need." Faith turned critical, almost accusing eyes on her.

Bonnie swallowed hard. She saw it, a moment before Faith covered it, but it was there. A momentary flash of envy.

"I don't need him to give me anything. I already have everything I need"

Faith wasn't listening. "Nonsense. Now." She nodded. "Let's head downstairs. Marcus and his groomsmen are finishing up with the photographer. We're up next."

The roar in Bonnie's ears intensified as Faith pushed the bouquet of red and white roses into her hands. She followed her cousin out of the room to the winding staircase and thought this had to be what an out-of-body experience felt like.

"Now you get yourself together. I'm going to go get the others," Faith told her. Referring to Bonnie's bridesmaids, she said, "Hope they are ready".

Faith took Bonnie's arms and planted her in an alcove at the bottom of the stairs. She fluffed up the veil a bit, tsked a few times, then smiled. "Don't move. We'll all be right back."

Like she had a choice, Bonnie thought.

Faith disappeared in a flash of bloodred, a fitting color for the attendants' A-line gowns, Bonnie thought against the giggle of hysteria that bubbled up. This was it. The first day of the rest of her life. Married to a successful man, a man whose parties and appearances and professional successes would soon be hers, while her own dreams... Every ounce of warmth drained out of Bonnie's body. Her own dreams, whatever they were, would wither and die, forever unrealized and unachieved, because she'd been talked into fulfilling the request her father had made of her.

The truth was that she didn't even know what exactly she wanted to do with her life. As a princess, she had everything she ever wanted. She had lacked absolutely nothing throughout her life and she wasn't even sure she had any purpose, but she knew that this wasn't it. A life time with Prince Marcus definitely wasn't it.

She shouldn't have waited so long to listen to the doubts. She should have confided in one or more of her friends, asked for their advice, but they were all so busy with their own lives, their own relationships and jobs. She didn't want to bother them with something she should be able to work out for herself.

A cool breeze drifted in through the side door. The early spring rainstorm that had crossed through the area last night had long since moved on, leaving in its wake the promise of blue skies and crisp, refreshing days.

The sunshine beckoned her, like a beacon of escape she only now realized was within reach.

She walked to the door, set the bouquet on the nearby table and pulled off her veil.

It drifted to the floor as she stepped outside.

She took a deep breath. Held it. Released it. The belt of panic that had been tightening around her loosened. It continued to ease with each step she took away from the club. Her spiked heels clicked on the cement stairs she descended. Bending down, she caught huge wads of fabric in her hands and hiked up her dress, walking quickly along the stone path to the marina entrance. She welcomed the warmth of the sun beating down on her.

Bonnie surrendered to instinct. She had grown up here.The boats were all different, of course, but they were also the same. She had no idea where she was going or what she was going to do when she got there. But she most definitely was not going to get married. Not now.

Maybe not ever with the way things were going.

There was commotion behind her and it caused her to pick up her pace. She couldn't be certain it had anything to do with her, of course. But the sooner she got out of sight and took some time to decide what came next, the better. She wasn't thinking. She didn't want to. In Fact she was scared to because she didn't want to change her mind.

She knew her father and mother would be extremely disappointed and pissed off, but getting on the boat felt right. Every schooner, yacht or cruiser she eyed had her scrambling onward. Her heel caught between two planks.

Foot stuck, she pitched forward and cried out, landing awkwardly. Probably looking like a marshmallow factory that had exploded, she pushed herself up and shoved her hair out of her face. She twisted around to pull her foot free from her shoe, but froze, blinking at the boat right in front of her.

Her stomach clenched. More cries and calls and shouts came from the direction of the club. Her pulse kicked into top speed. She finally yanked out the shoe from between the planks and practically dived onto the boat.

She scrambled across the deck toward the open hatch, her dress billowing around her.

Once inside, she stopped. A time warp to the eighties? Dark painted wood paneling, hideous pastel floral-print cushions on the bench seats and nautical-themed drapes over the lone grimy window. Boy, did this boat need some TLC ASAP.

She bunched up her dress and squeezed past the galley kitchen, then began pulling open doors. She heard distinct and all-too-familiar voices shouting from the dock, including her father's loud baritone.

Expecting a bathroom behind the next door, she ended up wedging herself into a narrow closet where old fishing rods and gear were stored. It also had one shelf. With a fast sweep of her arm, she cleared it. After tucking the dress up and around her, she hoisted herself up, reached out and pulled the door closed.

-------------

David Stewart watched the young woman and stared one more time at the picture on his phone. She had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen, he thought.

She also looked innocent as hell, despite the ridiculous clothes she wore and the huge, frayed canvas tote bag she carried. Did she actually think she blended in, just because her coat was tattered and her hat was a little ratty? Did she think anyone would ever believe her to be one of these people?

Not likely.

So what was she doing here at this time of night? The lower east side of this town was no place for a lady like her. She strolled past him again, this time more slowly, and her eyes were so wide it looked as if they could take in her surroundings in a single glance. They took in David.

He felt a thrill of awareness, sharper than anything he'd ever felt before. She looked away, but not before he detected the faint pink blush that washed over her fine features. That blush had been obvious even in the dim evening light, with only the moon and corner street lamp for illumination. She had flawless skin, but what did he expect? She was a princess...Probably never done a thing her entire life to ruin her perfect skin.

Dammit. He had enough to worry about without this Miss Priss with manicured nails and salon-styled hair trying to fob herself off as a local. He had a job to do, and he had to stick to it without getting distracted. He had only stepped outside the bar when he saw her leave, and it was good for him because he needed to get a breath of fresh air. The smell of perfume inside was overwhelming, and enough to turn his stomach. He could hear the music in the bar grow louder and knew the dancers were coming onstage.

In less than ten minutes, maybe he would have to go back in there, baring himself in the line of duty...

Damn. He hated this place. It was exhausting, and he couldn't believe that the men in there were actually doing all that. What decent, hardworking man should have to peel off his clothes for a bunch of sex-starved, groping women? There was no way any self respecting man would enjoy displaying himself nightly. No way. It also made him wonder why the princess would willingly go to a place like that.