To Marry a Prince by Sophie Page Page A

‘Not coming from a charity shop would have been a real bonus. But you’ll definitely do.’
    She even allowed Bella out with only the minimum of make-up, on the grounds that her Indian Ocean tan was as good as anything that came in a bottle.
    ‘Jewellery?’
    But Bella had none. She’d not taken any to the island with her and she was still living out of her backpack, with a few supplements. ‘I’ll pick up all my stuff at the weekend,’ she promised.
    Lottie was desperate to lend her some pearl earrings but Bella hooted with laughter and told her to get real.
    ‘I’m not a Jane Austen heroine. Pearls are for historical novels and grandmothers.’
    ‘Well, you need something. Otherwise you’ll look as if you’re going for a working lunch or something.’
    ‘In this jacket?’
    Lottie admitted it would be a bit sparkly for the office but they settled on a pair of golden chandelier earringsfrom Lottie’s extensive bauble collection, just to add a sparkle or two more.
    First dates always have their awkward moments and Bella braced herself. But Richard was perfectly at ease from the moment she opened the door to him. He kissed her on both cheeks, quite naturally, and flapped a cheerful hand at a hovering Lottie, saying, ‘Do you mind if we push off now? I’ve parked a bit adventurously.’
    ‘Sure,’ said Bella, surprised but obliging. ‘’Bye, Lotts.’
    He held the door open for her and grinned at Lottie. ‘See you later.’
    Which very neatly established that he would be back tonight and so would Bella.
    She told him so as they went down the stairs. ‘God, you’re smooth.’
    He looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. ‘That sounds as if you don’t approve.’
    She shook her head. ‘Not at all. It will be a new experience.’
    He was right about his parking. He was nearly blocking a garage entrance and the front wheels were definitely on a double yellow line.
    ‘Anti-social,’ he said ruefully. ‘But I’d been round three times and there was nowhere else. And I didn’t expect to be long. Thank you for being ready to go.’
    ‘You’re welcome.
    The car was an unremarkable saloon. No Royal Standard, no fancy number plates, Bella was relieved to see. Richard held the door open for her and she gotin. He slid into the driving seat and they were off.
    He drove down to the Embankment and turned west along the river. So he wasn’t taking her into town then.
    ‘Where are we going?’
    ‘Small restaurant, run by a man I know. I hope you like it. Later you shall tell me all the things you like to eat, where you like to go, what you enjoy doing. But tonight I had to guess.’
    ‘Great. I love surprises.’
    She was taken aback all the same. When he passed up on Mayfair, she braced herself for some Michelin-starred foodie’s paradise in a smart village. But the restaurant was in an outer suburb, in a set of arches under a railway line. It had candles set on old sherry barrels in the bar area, and red-checked tablecloths.
    The greeter at the door seemed to know him. ‘Mr Clark. Table for two. This way.’
    ‘Mr Clark?’ said Bella, when they were seated.
    He pulled a face. ‘My brother George’s idea of a joke. Kent Clark. Superman backwards.’
    ‘So are you always Mr Clark when you go out on the razz?’
    ‘Sometimes.’
    The waiter brought them two menu cards and Bella saw the food was Spanish.
    ‘What would you like to drink? Sherry is the house speciality but you can have a cocktail or proper champagne, not just Spanish fizz, if you’d rather.’
    ‘My grandmother drinks sherry. I don’t think I’ve ever tried it. Deal me in.’
    It was the start of a wonderful evening, low-key andvery friendly. Maybe first dates didn’t have to be so fraught after all, she thought. Plate after plate of exotic tapas was put on the table, along with wonderful crusty bread. She and Richard swapped tastes and dipped their bread in the same earthenware dishes of sardines, and oil and olives, and wonderful