Summary: Bella is a struggling English teacher. An almost-accident lands her in the arms of prince charming. Modern day times and a fairytale type of romance-or is it? AH/M.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Stephenie Meyer and Summit own the right. I just play around with the characters.

A/N: Thank you for the nice response to chapter 1. As I told some of you, I'm pretty sure I know where I'm going with this story. Hopefully, it'll be fun for everyone. :)

I'd also like to thank Angelz1114577 and Klooqy from PTB for beta'ing this. I'm humbled by your comments and critique.

Dreams Come True

BPOV

Chapter 2

I felt his hands on my arms, gently holding onto me so that I wouldn't fall again. His touch was warm and it sent tiny bolts of electricity down my spine.

Edward held me close and looked at me with a grave expression. The penetrating stare of his green eyes made me look down at my feet. For some reason, he scared the crap out of me. What was worse was that I didn't have the common sense to run. I was drawn to him.

"Look at me, Isabella," he commanded in a firm but gentle voice.

When I didn't look at him, he lifted my chin up to meet his eyes. This time his eyes were soft, not as intense.

"Are you okay?" It was a simple question, yet I honestly wasn't sure if I was okay or not. Physically I felt better, but there was still a part of me that was afraid for my well-being. What I had heard scared me greatly. What the hell did he want with me?

"I'm not sure," I replied quietly.

He leaned forward until his head touched mine. I closed my eyes when I felt his arms encircle my waist. The gesture itself was intimate; something that I'd only do with someone I knew well, yet I didn't have the will power to stop him.

"I need to speak with you," he said softly. He took a deep breath and slowly released his hold on me.

He took my hand and led me back to the bedroom. He then sat us down on the foot of the bed, still holding onto my hand.

"What do you want with me?" I didn't mean to blurt that out, but the suspense was killing me. The way he carried himself versus what I had heard gave me a migraine. I needed to know what was going to happen to me.

"Nothing more than what you're willing to give," he replied smoothly. "I assure you, Isabella. You can leave anytime you want to. I just need to say something before you depart." Before I could speak, a cell phone rang and I jumped back in surprise. "I'm sorry. I have to take this." He pulled it out of his suit pocket and got up from the bed. He turned his back to me and spoke in a language I couldn't understand.

I sat there quietly, trying to decipher whatever he was saying. Sadly, I'd taken Latin as my foreign language in high school, not Italian or French.

He was only on the phone for a few minutes. When he hung up, he spun around to face me. He sighed as he sat down next to me.

"Isabella, will do me the honor of talking to me?"

I was skeptical. He wanted to talk to me? "I don't understand," I replied slowly.

"I want to know you," he said simply. "I saved you from getting hit. The least you could do is tell me about yourself." He smiled an adorable, crooked grin and once again, I forgot that I needed to leave.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Everything."

I told him my name, my occupation, and where I used to work. He asked about my family and I told him that my parents lived in a small town not too far away from Seattle.

As I talked about my parents and my hometown of Forks, I remembered that he wanted to tell me something. That was the sole reason why I was still sitting down with him.

"Hey, didn't you have something to tell me?" I asked, changing the subject.

His smiled faltered a little but he replied, "Actually yes. Thank you for putting us back on topic." He ran a hand through his unruly hair and muttered things in a language I couldn't understand. "I have somewhere I need to be tonight. I'm in need of a date; I was hoping you'd accompany me…"

I cut him off. "Hold on there! I think you have the wrong impression. I'm not a prostitute. I'm not into that." I got up from the bed and tried to make a run for it. I knew he was a psycho! Whatever the hell I had heard earlier came rushing back to me. I had to get out of there before this became an episode of Law and Order.

"Wait, Isabella! I'm sorry! That came out the wrong way. I know you're not a prostitute. I'm such an idiot," he muttered angrily.

"What do you want with me?" I asked curiously. "And before you give me some bullshit answer; I heard you! Whatever it is that you want with me…well, I can't give it to you. I won't."

He smirked. My goodness, he had the audacity to smirk. Unbelievable.

"Didn't your parents teach you that it is rude to eavesdrop on other people's conversations?"

"It was an accident. I was leaving when I overheard you," I said defensively. "Hey! Don't turn this around on me."

Still smirking, he said the one thing I wasn't expecting to hear for a long time. "Marry me."

My eyes were big and round in surprise. The air in my lungs was gone, and I fainted.

"Isabella?" he said urgently. His gentle touch was quickly bringing me back to consciousness. I opened my eyes and saw Edward looming over me, looking concerned and afraid.

I realized that I was lying on the bed again. "What happened?"

"You fainted on me again," he said darkly. "I have to stop doing that to you."

"It's not your fault. I get nervous easily."

He laughed bitterly. "I ask you to marry me, you faint, and you're the one that's apologizing? You're absurd."

I frowned. "You ask me to marry you, and then you call me absurd?"

"Forgive me. I'm not doing a good job at asking you to marry me, am I?"

I groaned as I rolled over to my side. "Why would you even ask? We don't even know each other," I mumbled into the pillow.

"Mia bella," he said softly. His words and voice were hypnotizing me again. When he said stuff like that, I couldn't help but be so entranced. He gently rolled me over so that I was looking directly at him. I gasped as I felt his cool fingers brush against my forehead. His fingers found themselves in my hair, twirling my strands between his fingers and smiling at me like I was some sort of precious jewel. "I know you're honest and pure. I know you're strong and feisty, and I know you're intrigued by me. Don't tell me I'm wrong."

"You're not wrong."

"I know," he replied happily. "Let's be frank. I like you and despite your fear, you like me, too. Let's cut the bullshit as you put it, and just do it. Marry me. Why do we have to go through the dating and formalities when we can just get married?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Honestly?" he asked, hedging my agenda.

I nodded. "Honestly."

"I like you. I wish to know you, and well, I'd rather skip all the formal crap and marry you soon."

"Edward," I said, sighing. "You're a really handsome guy, and I'm sure you have a lot of admirers, but I can't marry you. I don't even know you."

"You know the fact that you're giving me reasons why you can't marry me tells me you also have reasons why you can marry me. If that's how you want to go about it, then I'll just ask you to repay me for saving your life."

"You're trying to manipulate me."

"Is it working?"

"I'm not sure."

"Look at us, Isabella. We're having this conversation flawlessly. We can talk to each other like we've known each other for a long time. There's an attraction between us that feels so natural, but I'll save that topic for another time."

"Can't I just thank you and forget about it?"

He shook his head smiling. "I saved you. Won't you save me in return?" The way he looked at me told me that he was hiding something from me. His eyes were sad, and all I wanted to do was make those eyes sparkle. He deserved to be happy, but I deserved answers.

"This is just too weird for me. I don't know anything about you. For all I know, you could be some serial killer who saves women from impending death as a way to capture them and kill them."

He chuckled. "You have an active imagination. I can't say I don't like it, but I assure you that I'm not a serial killer. However, you're right. I do need to tell you a little more about me. I'll make you a deal, Isabella. I tell you more about myself, you consider what I've told you, and then you decide if you'd like to leave or stay. I promise I will not hold you captive," he said teasingly.

"Deal." What else could I do?

Edward told me his name and that he was a politician in his home country of Volterra. I'd never heard of that country, but I chalked that up to being an ignorant American.

He told me that he had a brother and a sister. His brother was older and his sister was younger, which made him the middle child. He was twenty-nine years old and fluent in English, Italian, French, and Spanish. His home language was Italian and that was the language he spoke most often. He explained to me that he was here on business. He had to attend some dinner party for sponsorship of his country's big sporting event.

That told me some things about him, but it didn't tell me why he saved me or why he even asked me to marry him. His earlier reasons of me being honest and pure just weren't good enough for me. There had to be something else, too. When I asked him why he saved me, he responded with a harsh, "I wasn't about to let you die." That statement itself told me he was compassionate. That even though he came off as intimidating; he had a kind heart. When I asked him again why he asked me to marry him, he said, "Because I know you're perfect for me in every way."

"How can you know that?"

He trailed his fingers up my arm until they rested on my shoulder. Giving me a little squeeze he said, "I just do."

"I'm scared."

"Of me?" he asked.

"Kind of. Not really. I don't know," I stammered.

He smiled. "Well, that's not a no."

"It's not a yes either," I warned.

"So, will you accompany me tonight? Be my date, and let me show you that marrying me wouldn't be such a bad idea?"

"Okay."

"Okay," he said nodding. He got up and pulled his phone from his pocket. Before he punched the little buttons there was a knock on the door.

I sat up and looked at him then the door and back at him.

He ran a hand through his hair again, and gave me a sheepish smile. "That's my staff. They'll be helping you get ready."

He had a staff? I guess I wasn't surprised.

"Thanks?"

"Don't question anything please. I know I'm not very forthcoming, but don't judge me by all of this. It's the only way I've ever lived, and I will explain that to you later."

"Is this all part of your plan in getting me to marry you?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I watched as he opened the door to reveal a woman with dark brown hair and wide set eyes. They spoke in Italian, occasionally gesturing to me.

"Isabella, I'd like you to meet my assistant, Bree. She travels with me often, and her husband also works for my family," Edward explained as introductions were made.

I got up from the bed, embarrassed that I looked so awful. Bree shook my hand and told Edward that she would help me get ready for the dinner party.

"I'll see you later?" he asked almost tentatively.

"A deal's a deal," I replied. "I'll see you later."

He gave me a tiny, hopeful smile. "Try not to ask Bree too many questions."

I took that to mean I could ask Bree questions about him. If he wasn't willing to tell me anything, then I'd ask someone who would.

He left, but not before giving me a sweet kiss on my cheek and promising me that he would romance the hell out of me. Because after all, he wanted me to marry him.

"Can I ask you something?" Bree and I were in the bedroom. She was trying to get me a dress for the party, and I was pestering her about Edward.

"You can ask, but I reserve the right to not disclose my employers' privacy," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

"Who is he? What does he want with me? Am I in danger?"

"His name is Edward. I believe he wants to marry you, and no, you are not in danger. At least no more than you were earlier; from what I heard, you were pretty close to being chopped liver."

"But why? I mean, you work for him. Doesn't he wanting to marry me bother you?"

"No," she replied simply. "I'm sorry I can't give you more information, but just know that he is quite taken with you. I don't necessarily agree with the way he's dealing with all this, but he also doesn't pay me to agree with him."

"I'm a little freaked out," I confessed.

She laughed. "I'd think you were worse off than him if you weren't. That said, I can assure you that he is harmless. He's not that bad guy. He's just not used to a woman like you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that he's used to women falling over for him. He hasn't worked this hard to get a date in years. You're a challenge for him. He likes that."

Deciding that my day couldn't get weirder, I decided to just go with it. I had gone from pathetic job hunting to marriage proposals from a wealthy foreign politician. Things were looking up for me, sort of.

Bree made a few phone calls and in a matter of time she had a few dresses laid out before me. The dresses were more like ball gowns. They looked beautiful and way out of my league. However, one dress in particular caught my eye. It was a strapless coral colored dress with a beaded bodice.

"Good choice," Bree said.

I guess she must have seen me eyeing it. She picked it up and held out for me. I tentatively ran my finger along the fabric. It was the prettiest dress I had ever seen. For a moment, I wondered how I had gone from being almost hit by a van to picking out dresses for a dinner party.

"This is surreal," I murmured aloud.

Bree smiled and asked if I would like to try it on. I said yes, and within minutes I found myself dressed in the elaborate gown. It was long, flowing straight down my legs. I looked like a different person, and maybe that was the sole purpose for dressing up.

"It suits you," she said as she helped me pull the back zipper.

"Am I really doing this?" I asked, looking at her through the mirror.

She chuckled. "It looks that way, doesn't it?"

"This is crazy."

"I agree, but stranger things have happened. So, shall I help you with your makeup and hair?"

I grinned. I wasn't going to question things anymore. I'd take things however they came because that was life, and right then I was being transformed into a beautiful woman.

"Let's do this."

It must have taken us hours for me to get ready. I actually had no idea what the time was. It wasn't until I was seated in front of a vanity table that I asked Bree for the time.

"It's almost four p.m. Would you like me to order some room service?"

I hadn't even realized that I was hungry. My stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food. "Yes, please."

She made another phone call, and half an hour later I had a plate of French fries and a Club sandwich in front of me.

"This is great, Bree. Thank you so much!"

She smiled kindly as she ran a brush through my hair. "You're welcome, Isabella. I must say, I wouldn't mind if you married him. I could get used to you."

I wasn't sure how to take that. Did it mean that she liked me, or did it mean that she didn't care if I married her boss?

"Aren't you going to eat?" I asked changing the subject.

"In a little while," she replied. "I just want to finish your hair so that we can go over your makeup look."

She finished with my hair, leaving it hanging down my back in loose waves. My honey colored hair looked good, sexy even.

After that, she ate her food. We sat down in the bedroom, chatting about the event. I found out that Volterra was big on racing. Edward sponsored a team, and he was quite the racing fan. He enjoyed watching and going to the events.

I also took the opportunity to ask her more questions. I made sure to not ask questions about Edward. Instead I asked about the country. Volterra was a little country near Italy. The history itself was impressive. Edward's family was the rightful heir of the throne and country, but like most countries they had enemies. There was a group of radicals that called themselves The Volturi. They were after the throne, and to this day they still existed in secret, of course.

"That's so fascinating. I can't believe things like that still exist," I commented in awe.

"Not everything is real. There's no truth to these radicals. Volterra's hierarchy still remains strong," she said hastily. "Let's do your makeup."

I had a suspicion that she had told me too much. That maybe she wasn't supposed to tell me about these radicals, and in an attempt to fix her mistake, she told me that they weren't real.

"Of course," I said playing along. "It was a nice story."

"Secret societies do not exist. It's like saying the Knights Templar were real," she said shaking her head.

"They were real," I said obviously.

She looked at me with sharp eyes. "Societies like that don't exist in Volterra."

That confirmed it. She had told me something she wasn't supposed to. For now, I'd keep that information to myself.

"Help me with my makeup?"

She picked up a sponge and applied a foundation to it. "Please don't tell him what I told you. I'm not good at keeping secrets, and he knows that. Just…please try to act like you don't know anything."

I almost snorted in laughter. I really didn't know anything.

"Consider it forgotten."

A/N: These chapters won't be very long. They'll surely be over 3k, but don't expect them to be much longer than that. So, did you like this WTF moment? Who the hell proposes to someone they just met? Edward, apparently. And yes, she doesn't know he's royalty, but Bree sure slipped up in this chapter.

Till next time

Tina