by Bella Grant
When she confessed to being the planner of the event, he could tell she expected him to make a quick exit, but she didn’t know him at all. It didn’t matter to him if she was working the wedding or attending the wedding. She was too irresistible not to approach. Her easy banter made the conversation sweeter. If his damnable brat of a sister hadn’t had her little temper tantrum and provoked him by walking out with that groomsman, he could have spent another hour talking with her. As it was, when he finally got his sister away from the drunkard’s prying hands, Victoria had disappeared.
It had been for the best, he knew that. He was betrothed, and even though he held no romantic feelings for his bride-to-be, he could not disrespect her by being unfaithful before the wedding vows were uttered.
Growing up on a small Caribbean island, he knew one day his father would marry him off to a member of the royal family of another island. Politics, his father explained, were of the utmost importance, especially when one insult could delay or even ruin their small country’s coffee export. To do that could crumble their economy, putting thousands of island workers out of a job and take food away from the families that his family and his ancestors before them worked to protect.
The only hope he had cradled during his youth was that his father would see fit to find a bride with intelligence and who was fun to be with. As he grew older, his merely wanted the woman to be entertaining. He could ignore a stupid woman, but to spend the rest of his days with someone who couldn’t make him smile or laugh would be utter torture.
Having only spent a small amount of time with Carmen, he could not rule on her intelligence or her wit, but he did know she would be a dutiful wife. If he could get her to smile, at least a little, during her visit this time, perhaps he could see more of her personality. He didn’t concern himself with her appearance. She possessed average beauty. Nothing of significance but not difficult to look at. He knew he resembled an ass at his stock in her looks, but if he had to make love to the same woman the rest of his life, she needed to at least not turn his cock soft when she took off her nightgown.
Monogamy… Now there was an ideal he still needed to wrap his brain around. He had no doubt he would remain faithful, even if his father insisted there was no need. While his mother was alive, he watched the king parade his mistresses around with no regard for his family, saying it was his right as king to have as many women as he chose. Raphael did not subscribe to the same philosophy. On more than one occasion, he had seen his mother tear up at the sight of one of his father’s mistresses walking through the hall. He would not put his wife through that.
Until the announcement of his betrothal, he had been able to have any woman he wanted with a snap of a finger. None of them tried to get more out of him than a satisfactory evening, and each of them left with more than a satisfied smile the next morning. He wasn’t on the market. Raphael had distinct tastes when it came to his bedroom activities, and the women he escorted to his bedchamber went willingly and eagerly.
He wondered briefly if Victoria would walk so willingly to his bed. He hadn’t missed the immediate reaction to his playful comment about spanking at the wedding. Her eyes had dilated and her cheeks flushed, though he doubted she would recognize the physical response as need or desire. As he walked up the steps toward the hall where his betrothed awaited his arrival, he tried to push the mental image of Victoria draped over his lap—naked, her white, round buttocks in the air—from his mind.
“Ah! Here he is now!” His father stood from his chair and walked over to him, giving him a stern look as he approached. “They have been waiting nearly an hour,” he chastised in a low growl when he was far enough away from his betrothed and her parents that they could not hear him.
“They weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow.” Raphael stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his trousers and walked around his father, heading toward the girl who slowly rose from her seat, giving him a gentle curtsy when he arrived at her chair. The stiff material of her dress didn’t allow her to move freely, yet she managed to complete her greeting with grace. The embroidered beads trimming the light blue fabric shimmered in the sunlight pouring in from the large windows surrounding the room. When she finally looked up at him, he waited to feel something. A connection. A longing. Something other than his platonic reaction.
“Your Highness.” Her soft voice carried through the large, empty room, and she curled her lips in an attempt at a smile. He could easily see how nervous she was by the trembling of her over-painted lower lip. He despised the excessive use of makeup on a woman. Natural beauty could not be faked with a brush stroke of rouge or glued-on eyelashes. Although he didn’t find her unpleasing, her attempt to paint herself to look more appealing was lost on him. “Please forgive our early arrival.”
“Not a problem. Really.” He flashed a smile at her and turned his attention to greeting her parents. “I hope today finds you both well.”
“Yes, indeed.” Her father, King Eric, nodded curtly and waved a hand at the two women. “We need to set a date for the wedding. The sooner the better, I think.” His rounded face scrunched up as he sniffed the air. “It smells as though your cook is outdoing himself again.” He gave a toothy smile.
The time barely touched three o’clock. It was doubtful the cook had even begun preparing supper. “Of course you’ll stay for the evening meal.” Raphael offered a chair to his betrothed and took the seat beside her.
“How gracious of you.” Carmen nodded but didn’t look in his direction.
“Nonsense, you are all but family already,” King Renaldo boasted. “Now, to the wedding plans. I wish my Ariella was here to see her son marry, and she would know better than I what to do.” He directed a wobbly grin toward Raphael, who dismissed the comment by turning to his betrothed and asking her if she had any wishes for the wedding.
“Something simple, I think.”
“Simple? A royal wedding? Nonsense!” King Renaldo slapped his knee. “Our two islands are joining together in this union. There will be days of festivities before and after the ceremony. Simple won’t do.”
“We’ll need to hire someone to help plan the events, unless you think your staff can manage,” Carmen said so quietly Raphael had to lean closer to her to hear.
Raphael looked at his betrothed sinking in her chair, damn near huddling away from him and an idea formed. “I know of someone. The wedding Isabella and I attended in New York had a wonderful planner. She’s dealt with large events such as this before.”
“New York? I’m sure we can find someone here—“
“She’s the best,” Raphael assured his blushing betrothed.
“Very well.” She nodded her agreement and turned her gaze downward. Nothing set Raphael’s libido into overdrive faster than a woman in a submissive pose, but Carmen’s mannerisms were those of a scared kitten, not a submissive woman. There was no heat in her eyes, no steel in her spine. She reminded him more of a wet blanket than a warm and willing lover.
VICTORIA
“Victoria?” Jerald’s voice carried through the apartment to where she sat at her desk in the spare bedroom.
“In here,” she called, scooting away from her desk. The amount of emails that poured in outnumbered the amount she could reply to after spending an entire day directing an angry bride and her bridesmaids through several bridal shops.
Jerald appeared in the doorway of her home office, carrying a cup of coffee and a pile of mail. “Working late again.” He frowned and handed her the coffee. “Mocha with an extra shot.” He placed the stack of envelopes on her desk. “Your mailbox was full, so I grabbed what was there.”
“Thanks, Jerald.” She sipped her coffee, humming over the chocolatey taste of the espresso as it rolled over her tongue. “What brings you by?” She leaned back in her chair. The day had been long and stressful, and she really hoped he wasn’t stopping by to have yet another long talk about their relationship—or lack thereof.
“I just wanted to see
you.” He shrugged and took a seat in the armchair she used for reading late at night. It was the perfect blend of firm and comfy with a large back and overstuffed arms.
“Ah.” She took another sip of the coffee. “Work go okay today?” Jerald crunched numbers for a living, and although she tried several times during their relationship to be interested in his work, she found it mundane. Where was the creativity in numbers?
He nodded. “Oh, yeah. Good day, actually, I managed to strike up a large account from a referral.” Jerald was always picking up accounts but rarely kept them. Management usually swooped in and handed them to the larger accountants in the firm; Jerald was simply too passive to stop them.
“That’s good.” She slipped off her flats and tucked her right foot beneath her left leg, still nursing her coffee. It would probably keep her up, but she needed to get through the rest of her emails anyway.
“How was your day?” The small talk between them bothered her the most. Obviously, they had nothing to say to each other. She could go two or three days without so much as thinking to text or call him. His moving out hadn’t done anything except put the physical distance in direct correlation with their emotional one.
“Jerald.” She sighed and put the coffee down, leaning forward. “I—” The words caught in her throat. “Look. This isn’t working, is it? I mean, are you happy?”
He took a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his khaki-clad knees. “No. I’m not.” He pushed up the frames of his glasses with his thumb. “That’s why I came over. My moving out. It didn’t help, and I’m not sure why I thought it would. You didn’t need space to miss me, you just needed space.” His voice remained even as he spoke, and his eyes settled on her. Jerald rarely did anything without having thought it out thoroughly.
“I don’t know what it is.” She shook her head. “I just—well…” Whatever she was going to say was cut off by Jerald standing up.
“You need something more than I can give you. I don’t know what that is, but I can’t give it to you.” His shoulders rounded, and he shook his head. “I know you don’t believe in happily-ever-after, but there is such a thing out there. And I’m going to go get mine. I hope you do, too.” He turned on his heel and walked out.
A bit dumbfounded by the turn of events, she stared at the empty doorway until she heard the front door of her apartment shut. He had left, for good this time. Sitting back in her chair, she looked over at the armchair he had been sitting in. He hadn’t waited for a response or even said goodbye. Not really.
“Well, there you go, Vicki. Just lost another solid man,” she chastised herself. But when she sat in the quiet of the night and thought about the solid man she wanted and needed, it wasn’t Jerald her mind conjured. Not even close.
The man in her mind was strong, physically and mentally. There wouldn’t be any need to constantly soothe his ego or build him up, because he would have the confidence he needed to be a leader. Someone she could lean on and depend on and never worry that she would be too much for him. Because he would always be her safety net, her safe place. No, Jerald wasn’t that man. He was a good man, yes, but not the man in her mind. Not the man that would steal her heart. She hadn’t met that man yet.
“Oh my God, Vicki!” Jessie bounded out of her small office and into the waiting room of Victoria Events.
Victoria braced herself for impact as Jessie rounded the coffee table and came to a screeching halt right in front of her. She let out a low sigh. “Jessie. What was that?” She couldn’t help the chuckle in her voice. The office hadn’t officially opened for the day yet. No clients were inside, but Jessie obviously had something very exciting to share.
“The royal family wants us to plan their wedding!!” Jessie opened her arms and nearly yelled the news. Victoria shook her head and looked around the excited young woman toward Lilly, who was sauntering into the room with a cup of herbal tea in her hand.
“What is she talking about? Is Prince Henry actually getting married? And why the hell would he want us?”
“Not that royal family.” Lilly shook her head. “Jessie, why don’t you explain the whole thing.” Lilly took a sip of her tea, her eyes on Victoria.
“Prince Raphael Saurs is marrying Princess Carmen Absolom, and they want us—I mean you—to plan the event.” Her voice rose into a high-pitched squeal by the time she finished her sentence.
“Wait, what?”
“Your dream guy is engaged, and he wants you to plan his wedding,” Lilly answered in her rational voice, the voice that gave only the facts and masked her true feelings.
“The guy from last weekend?” Victoria shifted her bag on her shoulder. “He’s engaged?” She shouldn’t have been surprised—the man was beyond gorgeous, and, apparently, a damn prince!
“And he wants you to plan his wedding,” Lilly pointed out again. Victoria gave Jessie a stern look to calm her down and walked between her two assistants to head to her office. “It’s a pretty sweet deal.” Lilly followed her to her office, shooing Jessie back into her own office. “I looked it over this morning. All expenses paid, your travel, your accommodations, everything. On top of our fee…actually, more than our fee. His offer is twice our normal fee.”
“Twice?” Victoria dropped her bag on her desk with a thud. “Why?”
“Why? Who cares why? It’s a fucking gold mine. You have to take the job.”
Victoria stood behind her desk, still holding her coffee in her hand. “Jerald left me,” she announced, putting the coffee down. “Last night.”
“I thought he left months ago.”
“No, he moved out two months ago, but last night he broke up with me.”
Lilly scratched her neck. “All the more reason to go. Get away from the city. Plan a fucking royal wedding!”
“I don’t know anything about royals.”
“You know the New York elite? Just like that, but more curtsying and groveling on your part,” Lilly laughed.
“Can you get me the proposal he sent? Are you sure he asked for me specifically?”
“I’ll grab it.” Lilly disappeared for a few moments and returned with the stack of papers in her hands. “Fed Ex dropped it last night.”
A royal emblem took up half the envelope. Her fingers ran over it lightly. “Why me?”
“He probably liked how you handled that couple last weekend. You said his father does business with that groom’s family. Maybe it’s a referral. Just look it over, take the gig, and let Jessie know to book your flight.”
“Flight? Says here he’ll send his private jet.”
“Did you say private jet?” Jessie yelled from her office.
Lilly shook her head with a grin. “Take the job, Vicki.”
“I’m going to plan a royal wedding.” Victoria sat in her chair, taking a deep breath. “Holy shit. I’m going to plan a royal wedding.” A large grin took over her face, and she felt the tingling sensation of excitement bubbling up in her chest.
“Hell yeah, you are. Maybe the groom will have a brother for you to toy with while you’re off duty.” Lilly winked. “You know, to help you get over Jerald.”
Get over Jerald? Hadn’t she already done that? Wasn’t that why he left? And now, she was taking a job offer from the man who had caused her spine to tingle without even touching her to plan his wedding. Maybe he would have a brother. Maybe Lilly was giving good advice.
“The phones are going on in ten minutes. That new secretary better get her ass here. I’m not spending all day on those phones. Jessie and I will split up the few projects you have going right now while you’re away. The wedding is in three months. Not a lot of time, but enough.”
Lilly continued talking, but Victoria was imagining what Raphael would look like with the Caribbean beach as his backdrop.
She must have been out of her mind, taking a job on such short notice. The few days between deciding to go and actually getting on the plane were a complete whirlwind of activity. Lilly assured her over and over again that
she and Jessie could handle the clients left behind. Victoria knew they could handle them. She wouldn’t have hired them otherwise, but she felt guilty over the workload she was leaving them.
The morning of her departure, her nerves were on edge. She’d always been ultra-sensitive to change, and she could feel it in her body that a big change was coming. Chalking it up to nervousness over her attraction to the groom, she pushed aside her worries and finished the last-minute packing she needed to do and headed out.
The prince hadn’t left out any detail when it came to her travel. A car arrived to take her to JFK and deposited her directly in front of his personal jet. When she stepped out of the Rolls Royce, she took in the sight of the massive plane before her. In her mind, she had envisioned a little plane, one that sat ten people or so. The aircraft in front of her could most likely be used to host his engagement party.
Being the only passenger on board felt a little unsettling, especially since he had put a full staff on the plane to see to her every need. The flight took five hours, most of which she slept to catch up on sleep she’d deprived herself of the evening before. The only need she had was for a glass of water. The rich never ceased to amaze her when it came to flaunting their wealth and wasting their money. Although she wouldn’t take away the opportunity for these good people to have a job, he could have easily bought her a ticket on a commercial plane to take her to his little island.
Victoria spent a good part of her evening reading about Tobago, a small island in the Caribbean still ruled by a monarchy. Their main export being coffee, she wondered how many coffee houses she would find lining the main streets of their towns. Would it be the same as the Starbucks epidemic the States faced?
Raphael’s father had been crowned king at the young age of twenty when his father died of what appeared to be a heart attack, although there had been some suspicion of foul play. During King Renaldo’s reign, the export of coffee doubled, making the country wealthier, building their economy, and strengthening the resolve of his people.
