The moment Rosalina left the library, she opened the jar and let the fragrance fill her senses. She waited just a moment for the two scents to merge—the lotion and her mother’s perfume. And…yes. Perfect match. Given the complex mix of ingredients—the shea butter and ceramides and acids—recreating the exact scent had been difficult. But she’d gotten it. And, even better, the lotion was sumptuous, so it fit their brand.

She made her way up the stone staircase that led to the business offices. At the landing, she glanced out the rectangular window and got that familiar rush of joy.

Villeneuve Castle sat atop a ridge overlooking the capital city. Wildflowers carpeted the hills, and the snow-covered Alps created a cozy fortress for her picturesque little town. Below, the two-lane highway snaked through the valley like a black river. Heavy mid-morning traffic meant the businesses were thriving, and it made her proud to think how well her father ran this beautiful, safe country.

Hushed, urgent voices upstairs drew her attention. A woman and a man.

But the urgency wasn’t anger or frustration…it was passionate. Yearning.

An office romance? Not many employees worked in the castle—only the finance department—and most of them were married and had held their positions forever. She would be devastated to learn someone was having an affair.

As she climbed the steps, she let the soles of her ballet flats slap on the stone to alert them, but their impassioned conversation didn’t stop.

“But you don’t love her.” The hushed, fervent voice came from behind the closed door of a supply closet.

A spike of recognition hit the base of her spine. Fabiana. But her personal assistant and friend wasn’t dating anyone.

“You don’t marry someone you don’t love.” Fabiana sounded overwrought. “It won’t work. Not when you’re in love with me.”

One single second had never held so much tension. Who’s she talking to?

Who?

A man let out a rough exhalation. “It’s a different kind of love, Fabi. It might not be wild and crazy like I feel for you, but I do love her. I’ve known her all my life.”

Marcel.

Chapter Two

Rosalina went into freefall. Her mind scrabbled to grab hold of something, anything, but she plummeted.

This isn’t happening.

Marcel and Fabiana?

Beads of perspiration popped out on her hairline. Her skin went cold, then hot.

“You love her like a sister.” Her assistant had never sounded so emotional. “You can’t marry your sister. It won’t work. It can’t.”

“Fabi, I’m going to marry her. You know that. You’ve always known that.”

This was a Marcel she didn’t know. Desperate, pleading.

Her fiancé wore pressed khakis, starched button-down shirts, and leather shoes. He kept his hair short and neat, his jaw clean-shaven. He was steady, reliable.