PLAYBOY PRINCESS (gxg) ✓

27. Paris Young

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                PARIS HAD NOTHING TO WEAR.

                Fine—that wasn't true. Paris had been designed an entire wardrobe just yesterday. But looking at it now, all she could think was, This going to end terribly. 

               The king's borderline hostile greeting had left her worried.

               If that was how the king acted, then what would the rest of the guests be like?

              The Charity Gala was in only hours, and Paris's hands were shaking.

              She was a doctor. Balls, palaces, princesses—that wasn't her territory. She probably would have been more calm right now tugging on a pair of surgical gloves in the operation room. 

              But she had to do this. For Rory.

              This was the world Rory had grown up in, and Paris wanted to be a part of it.

              A knock on the door yanked her attention just as it opened—revealing Alec. He gave her a white, gleaming smile. His blue eyes were twinkling with pure delight.

             "That man is delicious,"  Alec said. "Have I mentioned that?"

             "Yes, and I'm pretty sure it involved a weird conversation I'd prefer not to repeat."

             Alec collapsed back in the guest room's lounge chaise, but Paris didn't move. She was looking in the mirror, at her thickened lashes, her curly hair. 

             Was she a failure?

             No, she thought. No, she was Paris Young.

            She was Paris Alvarez Young, and she was a doctor. A pediatrician. She had graduated medical school. She had placed top of her class. And she, unlike some people, actually knew the lines to the play of Romeo and Juliet.

            I can do this. 

            Except her hands were still shaking.

            "Paris, love," Alec said. "You don't know what you're going to wear, do you?"

            He knew her too well.

            Paris nodded wordlessly.

            Alec grinned devilishly. "Well, that's what I'm here for."

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            PARIS CLOSED HER EYES.

            The party had already started.

            But Alec had insisted. Better to be late. You'll be the belle of the ball.

            Paris had rolled her eyes at that. This isn't a Disney movie. 

           But you would fit the part. 

           And even though she had made fun of him for that, she still couldn't help hoping that she did. Rory was a princess—the people at the Gala would be expecting perfection from anyone she brought.

           Paris knew that she didn't owe anyone perfection.

           But it had been a long, long time since she had dressed up. And she wanted this to be a moment. She wanted a Cinderella moment.