She was dancing with a friend, moving effortlessly to the music the way only a former dancer could. Her blue eyes were bright, her head thrown back in a laugh. She looked around the club, finally looking up to the VIP balcony where he was seated. If she was surprised to see him out, she didn’t show it. She was so confident now. She had changed so much from when they’d been crazy teens passing each other at the different parties amongst the Prynessian nobles. He admired her ability to change, adapt, and grow, even though he knew he couldn’t.
She made her way up to the upper level and, with a quick smile at everyone there, took his hand. He gave her hand a grateful squeeze as she led him out to the dance floor. Yet again she’d saved him from an annoying chatterbox, just like that first night a little over two years ago. Also just like that night, she was dressed in the tightest of dresses and highest of heels. It made his mouth water just thinking about what was in store for him later.
“You look amazing,” he shouted over the music. Stella broke into one of her wide grins that lit up her entire face. Anton wrapped his hands around her waist, bare despite the chilly fall temperatures outside. The little slice of skin revealed by the cutouts on her dress was warm and smooth like the clay he’d been handling earlier. It made him want to touch, massage, and mold every part of her.
She pulled him in close, her voice a hot breath on his neck that sent an electric current straight to his cock.
“I didn’t think I’d see you out for another few weeks.”
“Are you disappointed?” he teased, his hands tracing along her body. She shivered beneath his touch. “I can go back to Marcella and her crowd if you’d rather not be bothered.”
Her own hands were tight on his back, keeping him pressed against her as they moved to the music.
“You can bother me whenever you want.”
He flashed a wicked smile, ready to go. He’d only gotten the club fifteen minutes ago, but he’d already found the release and inspiration he’d need to finish the piece.
“Then let’s not bother staying here. My place?” It was almost always his. She never seemed to mind. That was the other great thing about her. She seemed happy to do things his way. Not that she didn’t have her own creative suggestions from time to time.
A squeeze of his ass was her reply. He tore out of there, eager to see what ideas she had in store for him tonight.
Chapter 3
The morning light peeking through the curtains was bright behind Stella’s eyelids. She fluttered them open, taking in the dark sheets that surrounded her. They were almost as familiar as her own, though it had been several weeks—no, a month?—since she’d last been here. She knew they were clean though, thanks to the maid.
She also knew where the bottle of water was next to the bed and took a grateful swig before reaching for the paracetamol in the drawer on the bedside table. She hadn’t expected to see him last night and had about five drinks more than she should have. She knew he usually only had one or two at a club these days. A puking prince on the front page was so ten years ago.
She knew so much about him, yet he still managed to surprise her. He had pulled his usual disappearing act—no texts and no calls for three days in a row—and that usually meant he would be off the radar for at least a solid month or two. So why had he been out last night? He hadn’t said anything when they’d gotten back to his place. Not that there had been much talking from either of them.
She looked around his bedroom. The tall windows looked out onto the rooftops of the city center. They were at the penthouse, not the manor house with his main studio. She’d still never been there. It didn’t really bother her, not anymore, but she wondered if Marcella had been in there.
Stella’s face broke into a delighted grin at the thought of the tall and busty gallery manager whose obsession with Anton was painfully obvious. The look on her face when Stella had shown up had been priceless. Stella knew that Anton hadn’t been with anyone else since she’d come into his life, but that didn’t stop every unmarried noble under the age of 40 from trying. She smiled smugly to herself, pleased that she’d gotten what they all wanted so badly.
As she stretched out in his bed, a thought suddenly occurred to her. Had she gotten what they all wanted? There was the sex. That had been as satisfying as ever. Her muscles were pleasantly sore from the more acrobatic moments of the evening.
Then why did she feel out of sorts? What was this sudden feeling rolling around in the pit of her stomach? Regret?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Anton walking in with a plate of pastries and small cups of espresso. She took a grateful sip and looked him over.
Even with his hair long and shaggy, he was still completely gorgeous. Incredible body. Brooding dark eyes. Strong arms and hands that ended in long and surprisingly delicate fingers. She felt a slow warmth spread through her as she thought about how talented they were with so much more than paint and clay. She couldn’t deny the physical attraction she felt for him. So why the sinking feeling?
“Why were you out last night?” she asked, as he settled in next to her, plate resting on a pillow between them. She knew better than to give or expect sweet nothings whispered in the early morning light. The breakfast in bed was an unusually tender treat.
He shrugged and leaned back against the pillows, a hand behind his head.
“Duncan called me, interrupted my flow. Figured I might as well take a break.”
“He told you the news?” She grabbed a chocolate croissant and nibbled at the edge.
He nodded, biting into an apple pastry, his eyes lingering over her naked form half-visible above the covers. She pulled them up self-consciously to hide her breasts. He never stopped complimenting them, but she hated how small they were.
“Alix sounded really happy.”
“Hmmm,” he murmured noncommittally. He’d finished his pastry and was tracing a light line up and down her arm with a finger. Her breath caught in her throat at his touch.
“Do you want to go out to lunch later?” she ventured, his eagerness giving her hope that he was out of hibernation.
His hand stopped inches from her neck. He pulled away, shaking his head.
“I need to get back to the studio today,” he said. “I was so close last night. I can see it finished in my mind now.”
With a tightening in her chest, she realized what was wrong. It wasn’t the fact that he was cutting short their morning to go to his studio to work. That was nothing new.
Until that moment, she’d thought she was happy with her arrangement with Anton. She’d gotten her prince, and had kept his attention longer than any girl he’d ever been with. He hadn’t been with anyone else in over two years despite what the papers tried to sell. He’d seen how well she’d kept everything private and wasn’t about to give that up. It had been hard for her at first, but it had been worth it to get what she wanted.
But was she getting what she needed? She didn’t have all of him. Not even half, or a third, or a quarter. While Alix has been forming a real life together with Duncan, she had basically gotten two years of booty calls. She’d even said it last night—he could bother her whenever he wanted. But she couldn’t bother him.
“I can’t do this anymore, Anton,” she said suddenly, putting down her half-eaten pastry and looking around for her clothes.
“What? Eat pastry?” he chuckled. “Are you doing that weird caveman diet again?”
She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“You know what I mean.” She located her dress and pulled it on quickly, not taking the time to look for her underwear. She could see his reaction to that fact growing by the second, so she hurried to explain before he got her going again. With him, all it took was a look. “Alix and Duncan are for real. We’re not. Let’s stop pretending.”
A line appeared between his eyebrows. Stella felt her resolve weaken at seeing him so adorably perplexed.
No, she had to stay strong. She had to do this quickly and not think about i
t too much. She’d already spent enough time on him the past few years.
“I thought you were fine with everything,” he said slowly as if trying to remember the exact words of some official conversation they’d never actually had. “We have fun together, and we keep it private. I have my work. You have your work. This way we can both focus on our careers without it being a whole big public thing.”
Stella bit her lip. Her “career.” As a financial analyst at her father’s bank, it wasn’t exactly hard to move up when daddy was in charge. Sure she’d gotten the degree and decent grades at that, but she’d never really had to try that hard. Not like Alix. Stella was such a joke compared to her.
“With the wedding, all eyes will be on you—on us,” she said, bending down to put on her shoes. Seeing his eyes follow her ass as she leaned over, she decided to sit back down on the bed instead. She sat on the corner farthest away from where he was laying with his hair all rumpled and his arms crossed over his chest. She ignored the pull in her own chest to curl up against him. “Neither of us wants that kind of attention. This has always been a private thing. Less messy, right? So let’s keep it that way.”
“If that’s what you want,” he said, the line on his brow deepening. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Oh, trust me, everything we’ve done, I wanted to,” she said, a half smile playing on her face as she pulled on her jacket. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re the one who said no to that last idea I had.” She stood in the mirror facing his bed and winked at him as she fixed her hair. In the reflection, she saw him tilt his head to one side.
“I don’t know what to say.”
She took a deep breath.
“We’ve said it all before.” Her eyes met his in the mirror. Well, they hadn’t technically ever talked about anything this serious. But not saying things was sometimes the same as saying them. “Don’t worry about it.”
She returned to the bed and leaned down to kiss him, deeply, one last time. As she pulled away, she gave him a smile to let him know that she’d be fine. His brow was still furrowed, but he returned her small smile with a wave as she walked out, her head high, a confidence in her steps she didn’t completely feel inside.
So what if her fairytale prince hadn’t turned out the way she’d expected? She’d just have to look elsewhere for her happily ever after.
Chapter 4
“Watch it!” Anton called, rushing over to assist the two assistants hired by the palace art handler. They were supposed to be there to help him install his sculpture, and it took everything in him not to grab it from them and do it himself. Of course, it weighed about three hundred pounds. He noticed their sweating brows and took a deep breath. “Please be careful.” A smile.
“Very good, little brother.” He heard the trilling laugh of his sister Helena behind him and gritted his teeth. “You’ve only yelled at five people today instead of your usual ten.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be helping in the main ballroom?” He turned and glared at her. He appreciated her artistic eye but lately found her to be patronizing and annoying. “I’ve got it covered here.”
“You’ve been repositioning that thing all morning,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “There’s still the rest of the room, you know.”
Anton looked around the small parlor. Chairs were stacked along the wall and only a few tables were in place. Leo’s coronation was two days away, and they were both lending a hand with the final preparations. Anton had just completed the commission from his parents for the occasion and wanted it put in the best lighting before worrying about the rest of the room.
Judging by Helena’s pointed look, she must have guessed his priorities were on his work.
“I’ll help you here,” she said, waving her hand towards the door. “There wasn’t much left to do in the ballroom anyway. Katarina has most of it covered.” The main events planner for the palace wasn’t the most artistically inclined, but she was efficient and prompt.
“You mean you finally annoyed her and she kicked you out,” smirked Anton. As picky as he could be about his art, Helena’s career in interior design made her ten times worse whenever she stopped by to ‘help’ with events. He suspected that seeing Katarina sweat as she tried to not contradict the princess was half the fun for his older sister.
Helena punched him lightly in the arm before picking up a tablecloth with a loud sniff.
“Is this really the best they could find? I know it’s like, Great-grandfather’s wedding gift from the King of Belgium or whatever, but would it kill them to get something more modern?”
Anton laughed.
“I’m just happy Mom and Dad actually agreed to a public reveal of my work,” he said, trying not to puff his chest out too much. “It’s probably the best thing I’ve made all year.”
“Let’s see,” she said, dropping the tablecloth and heading towards the center of the room where the massive piece loomed. Bronze glinted beneath dramatic red velvet. The servers were leaning against the wall, still catching their breath.
Anton was faster, though, and rushed ahead to pull her hand back.
“It’s a surprise, Helena. Just be patient.”
“You’re telling me to be patient?” She narrowed her eyes. “And you’re being nicer to the staff. What happened? Did Stella come over last night?”
He didn’t answer, but his mouth turned down slightly. He focused his attention on the cloth, adjusting it so that the bronze was fully hidden.
“Oh.” Her voice was softer now. “Did something happen?”
“She said it was over.” He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. “I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, maybe a month.”
“She ended it? Really?” Helena nodded, her eyebrows raised. “Good for her.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he shot back, uncrossing his arms to place his hands on his hips. With a glance and nod to the servers, they hurried out of the room. Not that they hadn’t seen the royal siblings fight before. Four siblings born within 6 years of each other had been both fun and infuriating for the entire family.
Helena sighed and sat down on one of the only chairs actually set up.
“You’re worse than Duncan,” she said, leaning back and crossing her legs. “Your total lack of commitment is really shocking sometimes.”
“Lack of commitment?” He threw his hands in the air. “Do you know how much time I spent in the studio this month? I am beyond devoted to my art. You know that better than anyone.”
“And you know that’s not what I meant.”
Anton frowned. He was nothing like his brother.
“Stella was fun and could keep things to herself. She knew I never needed more than that. Duncan was flailing about and found his purpose through meeting Alix. I already had mine.”
“Two years and it was only fun?”
He was about to say no but paused. Stella had been more than fun; she’d been his muse, as well. That last night together was what had given him enough inspiration to last through finishing three pieces and the commission. The rest of his show in February, however, was another story.
He was going to say something to wipe the smug look off of Helena’s face, but they heard footsteps heading towards the door and both turned to look.
“Speak of the devil,” mumbled Anton. His face split into a wide smile as his brother walked through the door. “So you were able to make it early after all?”
Duncan nodded, beaming at his twin sister Helena before wrapping her in a hug. He then came to shake Anton’s hand, pulling him into a hug as well.
“Is Alix with you?” Helena said excitedly, looking back towards the door. “I want to see the ring!”
Duncan’s deep laugh echoed off the walls. Anton couldn’t help but grin. It was nice to all be back in the same room, the same city, even if it would only be for a little while. Despite their opposing personalities, Anton and Helena in particular, the royal siblings had all
been close growing up. It had been hard not seeing each other much since Leo and Duncan had paired off.
“She’ll be here tomorrow,” he said. “A last minute interview in Seattle.”
“I thought she was going to New York for med school?” Helena asked, brow furrowed.
“You just want her to go to New York so you have a reason to visit Diane,” teased Anton, still smarting from her comments on Stella. Helena crossed her arms and stuck out her tongue. He shook his head. Eight or twenty-eight, she was still the annoying big sister.
“It’s for an internship this year,” Duncan said, shaking his head. “She won’t start at New York until next fall. You know her, she doesn’t want to sit around all year.”
“But Seattle is so far away! How will you plan the wedding?” Helena looked as distressed as if it were her own wedding.
“Well, that’s kind of why I came here early,” Duncan said, clearing his throat. “I need to ask you both a favor.”
Anton groaned.
“We are not helping you plan the wedding,” he said firmly with a glance at Helena’s eager face.
“The wedding should be fine,” Duncan said quickly, waving his hand. “We have until next summer. There’s no rush like there was for Leo and Annabelle. Mom and Katarina will handle that.”
“So what do you need?” Helena was almost bouncing up and down, her fingers crossed. “Please tell me it’s the engagement party!”
Duncan nodded and smiled. Stupid twin telepathy, thought Anton.
“We were thinking February, around Valentine’s day.”
Helena let out something that sounded like a squeal. Anton raised an eyebrow.
“Perfect! No red or pink though, that’s too obvious.” She started moving her hands around the way she did when she was visualizing a room. “Champagne and chocolate though, that could work…”
A Royal Decision Page 2
