Forbidden Duke (Princes of Avce Book 4)

by Victoria Pinder

  Donna stepped in Remington’s way. “Treat Cassidy kindly, Lord Sky. She really is one of the nicest people I’ve met here.”

  He bowed his head. “She is nice. We can agree on that. She’s also too smart for someone like me, but for now, I have to go. See you both tomorrow.”

  Blackwell walked him toward the front door. As a goodbye, he said, “Thanks, Remy.”

  The second the door clicked closed again, Donna unbuttoned her black suit jacket. “Did you have a nice time riding?”

  This time he sniffed and realized he still smelled of horses. He’d need to shower as Donna looked great. His entire body calmed from her nearness. “Yes. It was good to get fresh air. Did you find a wedding dress?”

  “It’s going to be delivered.” She smiled at him.

  He turned toward their guests. “Mother, thank you for clearing the house.”

  She laughed and took Beth’s arm. “It’s good to raise the voice of authority. Beth, would you like to continue our shopping exercise for this wedding we are hosting tomorrow?”

  Blackwell placed his hand on Donna’s lower back. “Wait, Beth. Did you like the house?”

  “It’s awfully big for me.” Beth clutched her pocketbook.

  “It’s staffed so you won’t have to clean.” Her lips tightened. He turned toward Donna and said, “One day my son or daughter might use the house, as it’s entailed, but for now it’s yours.”

  Donna stepped forward and hugged her friend, “Please stay, Beth. I’m hoping you can help me modernize the library system here. I was asked to be on a committee, but we work better as a team.”

  Beth nodded and hugged her back. “I don’t want to leave you, so we can work something out. For now, Martina and I have some shopping to do.”

  Both older women left, fast friends. He walked them to the door and closed it behind them.

  Donna unbuttoned the back of her white shirt so she could slip it off and walked to the steps. “Blackwell, let’s go upstairs.”

  He spoke to his staff to search the house and ensure no other woman was here, except Donna. Once he was done, she was halfway up the stairs. He called out, “I posted the bans before we went riding.”

  “So that’s a no, you can’t join me?” She turned around.

  He gazed up the flight and saw her long legs. He remembered how soft her skin was when he touched her and walked up the first step. “Donna, I’m coming, but I need a shower first.”

  She waited for him, and slipped her hand in his. “So long as I check for naked women in there before you hop in.”

  They made it to the top step where he kissed her cheek. “Fair enough. I love you.”

  “Good because I love you too.” Her smile burned itself into his mind. He was happy. She was the love of his life. Somehow, he’d found her and now he’d get to keep her forever.

  His life was good.

  21

  Donna paced the small bridal suite and checked her makeup in the mirror. The royal stylists made her look chic and gorgeous.

  The closest thing she had to a mother knocked on the door and popped her head in. “Are you ready?”

  “Beth, I’m so glad you’re here.” Donna opened her arms until Beth came and hugged her.

  Happily ever after had seemed like such a dream. Her pulse jittered, but she tried to ignore the anxious feeling.

  Beth squeezed her hands. “I’d not be anywhere else.”

  Right. Donna felt jumpy, so she picked up her simple bouquet of pink roses and white lilies, smoothing the velvety leaves. “How does the chapel look?”

  Beth left her and gave a thumbs up to someone outside. She then returned and took her spot beside her. “I love the touch of roses and lilies—though simple, it makes everything just a little more festive.”

  The bridal march began and Donna tensed without moving. “Is Blackwell there?”

  Beth nodded and prodded her to go forward. “Yes, and he’s waiting for you.”

  “I think I’m ready.” Donna rolled her shoulders in an effort to relax. Blackwell was here. Everything was good.

  Beth winked at her. “You’re good to go, whenever you want—or there is the back door.”

  “No, let’s do this.” Leaving wasn’t an option. Blackwell was her dream come true.

  She stepped out of the room and her gaze locked with his. Like a magnet, Donna was pulled forward, though she tried to stay in step with the music.

  Once Beth brought her to the front of the chapel, Blackwell took both of her hands in his. “You look amazing.”

  “I love you.” Her heart filled with joy. She hadn’t been this centered, this complete, ever.

  He kissed her cheek. “I love you too.” He then motioned with his head toward the altar. “Now let’s tell the priest so we can go home and celebrate with cake and champagne, then catch our evening flight to Paris.”

  “I’m ready.” And she meant it. She was capable of being happy and in love. She wasn’t cursed. Finding her own strength had allowed her to believe in Blackwell, which meant that despite their differences, they had love in common and that made all the difference in the world.

  Soon the ceremony ended and his lips pressed against hers. They were now married and together, forever. She’d found her happily-ever-after.

  Forbidden Crown Preview

  Kristin Wells held her refurbished pocketbook close to her chest, scratched side in. She’d spent an hour before her interview this morning buffing out the flaw in the black leather.

  She tapped her feet on the marble floor of the hotel. She’d applied for this position three months ago while browsing the job postings at her current employer, Miami Insurance. Who wouldn’t want to travel the world as secretary for the Royal Prince Antonio Aussa, the world’s most eligible bachelor? She hadn’t seen much of the world, and never a man as gorgeous as the prince in the photos.

  Her shoe slipped off. Drat. She reached down and fixed it as her heart raced. Her best friend Renee had convinced her to go for it—what did she have to lose by applying? And now here she sat in a Marriott Hotel conference room, her legs jittering despite skipping her morning coffee. Kristin glanced at the old curmudgeon with steel-gray hair and round brown glasses that sat at a black, shining desk near the door. If she got the job, would she report to this woman? She avoided eye contact but smiled as much as possible.

  The older lady stood and pointed toward the door to an interior office. Kristin got the impression that this was a temporary set up—the only thing on the desk was a phone. "You may go in now, Ms. Wells."

  At least the interview would give her a peek at Antonio, who she’d researched online. He was a playboy prince from a country next to Italy that wasn’t quite as big. If she landed this job, she’d have to brush up on her Italian to ensure his social calendar stayed in order. But most important had been that smile of his. It was magnetic. With luck, she'd see it in person.

  “Are you thinking about running away?” The older woman asked.

  "I’m going in. Thanks." She fixed her black skirt, went inside the empty room and closed the door. Her heart beat out of control.

  Bright sun reflected off the ocean visible from the glass walls and she ducked her head. The hotel must use this room for weddings, she thought. A modern, sleek metal desk, with a single white folder atop,, and two accent chairs for guests was situated in the middle of the room. The large sliding glass door would give access to the private beach, not that she was interested.

  Her pale complexion and the beach had never gotten along. She chose the seat in the shaded part of the room to avoid a burn and smoothed her skirt.

  A moment later, she heard the click of the door to her right and in walked Prince Antonio Aussa. A shiver so deep it woke every part of her body spread through her and she felt like she’d combust if he brushed against her. The pictures hadn't done him justice. His smile was better than magnetic, his shoulders more broad in his gray tailored suit, and his hair as shiny and rich as melted dark chocolate.
He’d starred in her dreams over the last three months but the reality made her tremble.

  He held out his hand in greeting. His palm looked massive compared to her small wrists, but she felt a zap when he took her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” Grateful she hadn’t stammered, she focused on the yellow legal pad in his hand. He hadn’t said a word yet. “I'm excited to start our interview,” she swallowed her nerves, “as I am very interested in this job."

  Millions of women would die to do whatever he wanted.

  He cleared his throat, and took the empty seat beside her. She sat on the edge of her chair and waited while he assessed her plain brown eyes behind her black frames. Renee had urged her to get highlights in her brown hair but she hadn’t had time—now she wanted to hide from his brilliance.

  Her skin grew goosebumps of awareness, but she kept her mouth shut. Her current job sucked the life out of her and if she had to do one more fraudulent insurance claim she’d jump off a bridge. Her life was boring, predictable, safe. And her third masters degree wasn’t taking her mind off things. Being hired as the prince’s secretary would allow her to travel, and maybe pay off her condo which she could rent while away because she needed a major change and to figure out how to be happy in her skin.

  He scooted his chair closer to her and her pulse raced. "Why should I choose you?"

  Because if he ripped off her clothes, she wouldn’t protest? Her hand shook slightly and she clutched her bag to hide it. His smile had triggered a longing for something more. Her body throbbed to know every inch of him. She’d never had a high school crush—was this feeling like that?

  Kristin knew the math for them would never add up. She refused to let her emotions rule her, ever, and she certainly didn’t believe in falling in love, especially at first sight.

  But as his paid secretary? Her parents had instilled a solid work ethic. They were gone now and she’d honor their teaching—even the silent lessons, like love being a delusion that eventually ate away and destroyed all happiness.

  Kristin needed to convince him that she was the best applicant. "My undergraduate degree is in finance, so I can run numbers for you in addition to taking notes during meetings or updating your calendar. The idea of being flexible to meet the demands of a royal prince means I get to think on my feet."

  At her current job, she worked on the same items, every single day. He sat back and she felt a pang of loss that his interest in her was gone, but then he met her gaze. She couldn't look away. "You're sure of yourself."

  Did he think so? Normally yes. Right now, she was a hot mess on the inside. When she tried to loosen the death grip on her pocketbook, she dropped it instead, the broken latch spilling the contents of her purse all over the floor. "Is confidence a bad thing?"

  Her cheeks burned as she bent down to collect her things. Once she’d stuffed her lipstick, mascara, pads that weren't necessary at all for another few weeks, and pens into her bag, she straightened in the chair. "I'm sorry, I'm never this clumsy."

  "I'm used to it. It's what happens when women meet me for the first time."

  Arrogant too. She lifted her chin. "Or it's your title. A crown can be intimidating." This was an interview, not a date. Kristin had to remember why she was here. She nodded. "I'm career-oriented and a fast learner."

  He crossed his arms and again her body grew warm from his perusal. Then he picked up the one folder on the desk. "Your name is Kristin Wells?"

  "Yes." She had sounded breathless. She battled for control of her senses, but her skin heated and she feared she blushed.

  He stared at her, gifting her with his sexy grin. He closed the folder and the snap of papers filled the air. "Would you take your glasses off for a minute?"

  A simple request if her hands weren't shaking. She did her best, but lowered her lashes so she didn't have to look directly at him. If he saw into her soul, he’d see her fantasies of him and goodbye perfect job. "Umm, okay, but I do need them to see."

  He took them from her. His palm made her skin jump. "You have beautiful eyes, have you ever thought of contacts?"

  "Of course." Beautiful wasn’t a word she’d expected to hear today, when she’d chosen her borrowed black heels, black pencil skirt and feminine white button-up blouse. Once her glasses were on her face again, she looked up. "I do have them, but I don't wear them often."

  He angled his chair closer. "Any particular reason?"

  If she somehow landed this job, she'd have to get her raging crush under control. She didn’t like people looking directly into her eyes as he was doing right now, but she carefully chose her words to answer his question. “I’m not trying to impress anyone. I know my place and how to be a professional.”

  He read his paperwork again. "Kristin, your resume also says you have a marketing background."

  "Yes." At least her voice sounded normal. She crossed her legs. "I’ve run a successful online launch for the watch band company I briefly worked at." His attention was drawn to the slit in her skirt so she uncrossed her legs, self-conscious. "We sold out of the band. Now I work for an insurance company."

  His gaze returned to her eyes. "Why did you leave that job?"

  The interview was back on track. Good. She could handle business. She’d always wanted to travel and learn, but she knew the value of a penny in the bank. Her parents had taught her frugal now meant security in the future. Her body eased. "The watch band was exciting, but once they sold out, her position was over."

  “And insurance?”

  “The insurance company because there were health benefits and a 401K, but it was so boring. Your position would be anything but, and I’m up for the challenge.”

  “I hope that’s true.” He opened the folder again and scanned the contents. "So, let's get right to this. How much are you for 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year?"

  Her pulse surged. Did she really have a chance here? And she had no clue how much she should say for a salary demand. What a terrible interview question! "I would need to give two weeks’ notice at work, but I don't have any family obligations."

  He stared at her and she noticed that his brown eyes had a hint of green. No picture had ever captured that illusive color.

  "You didn't answer the question. How much are you?"

  She blinked. What question, she thought but then she remembered the salary. She’d checked online and the starting salary for a secretary was forty thousand, but he wanted around the clock attention. Late nights meant she should request more. Her stomach churned. She needed to be in the ballpark number so that he didn't laugh her out of the office. "$60,000? For the extra time."

  He rubbed the lower part of his chin. "That's low for what I'm asking."

  Really? "For a secretary, it's a competitive price."

  His grin curved into a smirk. "How much for you to be my wife?"

  She jerked in her seat. Was this a joke? "Your wife?" Nothing on earth could have prepared her for this moment. Seriously. She searched every corner, every wall, wondering where the cameras were hidden.

  Her mother had warned her to choose her future husband carefully and never fall for a playboy. Prince Antonio had a new girlfriend every other day. She tried to sound like she was in on the joke. "Aren't you a world-renowned bachelor with women begging to be your wife?"

  He nodded as if proud. "Yes, but I want a wife with a head on her shoulders who doesn't expect my love or devotion."

  The air in the room felt thinner. He was serious. She let out a sigh. "What?"

  "To start, I'll pay you $150,000 a year plus living expenses for you to be my wife, and the salary has options for pay increases over time."

  Her pulse raced so fast she wasn't sure how she managed to speak. The position he wanted filled was for his spouse, not a secretary. What duties would a wife perform? "What about children?" Sex?

  He riffled through the file and handed her a contract as he pointed to section two, subparagraph four. "Now if you want to negotiate that's fine,
but I already stipulated in the contract that I will pay a flat, one-time rate of $500,000 for the first child and then $250,000 for each additional, plus reconstructive surgery for every child produced. If you don't wish to raise any children, I can provide a twenty-four hour nursery."

  The words out of his lips were cold, professional and devoid of any feelings. Love might not exist, but marriage was meant to be more than figures in a contract.

  One day she had vaguely imagined she'd be a mom and have kids with a husband, dog and a house in the suburbs, but she wasn't sure. In those moments, she never once imagined herself as some princess in a castle in a country she couldn’t pronounce. She met his stare and for once she didn’t melt. "I’d want to raise my own children."

  He held her gaze and that speck of green mesmerized her. "Would you like this job, Kristin?"

  He made it sound like he was asking her to be part of his company, rather than sleep at his side for the rest of her life. Her heart pounded. Antonio would be hers. Her fingers ached to touch him, but she folded her hands in her lap. For him, this was business. Could it be for her, too? "It's a lot of money."

  He nodded. "You’re my top candidate. What would you need from me to close the deal?"

  Life as a royal would be surreal and the only thing she could compare it to was a movie because honestly things like this didn’t happen in real life. “Is this a trick?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Why did you interview me like this, for a job?”

  “What people are like on paper and in person can be very different. I wanted an escape clause, but now that I’ve met you I see you are exactly what I expected.”

  Her body stirred, but she deferred giving her answer. "I don’t want to read every day that you're sleeping around."

  She doubted a contract meant he’d be faithful, which was another reason to run out of this room. Public ridicule was not her forte. Run, right now.