by Bella Grant
“Rafe!” Isabella walked quickly across his office to his desk with a bright glow in her eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere, but I should have just come straight here. You have no idea how beautiful it is outside. You should have come with me to the beach.” He looked up from his computer as his younger sister plopped herself down in a chair, still wearing her bikini. The girl he chased around the hallways as a child had grown physically into a woman, but her maturity continued to be stunted. His father was to blame. After their mother died, when Isabella was only twelve, he had left her in the care of the staff. Her every whim was indulged, and as a result, she continued to sport the idea that the world was her oyster and she need only reach out and have it handed to her.
“Bella, I have work to do. So do you, by the way. You are supposed to find a charitable cause to sink your teeth into. You can’t keep squandering your days lounging on the beach. Many of our people are hungry, starved for work—you and I are in the position to help them. It’s our duty to do so.”
Her nose scrunched up and she rolled her eyes. “Rafe, you have all that handled. Father has parliament handled. My only job is to tan well and catch myself a prince. You’ve got your princess. It’s only fair I get the same.” Her long dark hair curled down her back, and she started to pull it forward and braid it.
“Fair,” he scoffed. When it came to his sister, very little was fair. While he’d been educated and trained to replace his father one day, his sister had been given lessons in fashion and female etiquette. Other than when absolutely necessary, she rarely put her skills in etiquette to use. He sat through grueling lessons in economics while she practiced applying the perfect shade of eye shadow, yet she often spewed the word fair to him when he encouraged her to work on something more important than her tan.
“When you’re married, your wife will handle such things as charitable events. She can expand on what you’ve already taken on. There is no great need for me. “
“And if you catch your prince? What then, Bella? Will you return to his kingdom only to dine on expensive foods and bathe yourself in his riches? Do you not think he will want more than a spoiled child for a wife?” He hadn’t meant to let his anger get the better of him, but his sister had been sheltered for too long. If it were up to him, he’d throw her in one of the villages and leave her there to see what their people really went through on a daily basis.
His father did well for the economy of the island. They weren’t a poor country, by any means. However, it took the back-breaking effort of their people to keep the economy stable. Isabella didn’t understand that while she sunbathed and sipped her tropical smoothies there were men and women working themselves to exhaustion to put food on their tables and feed their children. If it were up to him, she’d learn that lesson. But his father wouldn’t allow it. The most he could hope for, now, was that whoever took her for a wife would not be so yielding as his father had been in her raising.
“You waste too much time worrying!” She waved a hand in the air. “Oh, don’t get angry with me. I heard the planner arrived. You sent your private plane to fetch her.” She raised a dark eyebrow and smiled, prompting him to give her more information on the wedding planner.
“Victoria has arrived, yes. She’s resting for now but will be joining us for dinner. I expect you to use those manners father hired those people to teach you. I want her to feel comfortable here. This wedding will take some time to plan, and she’s given up much of her own time to come here to do it.”
“You sound as though she’s doing you a great favor.” She laughed. “It’s her job, Rafe. She’ll do it because you are paying her—probably too much—to do it.”
Raphael looked at her, still astounded by the amount of greed and arrogance the little girl before him held. “Best behavior, Isabella.” His tone held a warning they both knew to be empty.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m dining out this evening.” With that, she whisked herself out of his office. He watched the door close behind her and sat back in his chair, feeling as much of a failure as ever when it came to his younger sister.
If Isabella wouldn’t be joining him for dinner, that meant he’d have Victoria all to himself. The idea of spending the evening with her alone gave him the energy he needed to get on with his afternoon. Two meetings, a few dozen phone calls, and he’d be free to share his evening with her. A professional dinner. Carmen would be arriving in the morning. That would help him keep his distance.
A distance he was beginning to wish didn’t exist.
The cook had outdone herself, as she always did when they had a guest. Fresh seafood came easily on their island, and he was sure Victoria would appreciate it. New York City might have some of the world’s most renowned dining, but he doubted anything they prepared could compare to his Milliana’s lobster and crab dishes.
Raphael paced in the hallway outside the door to Victoria’s suite, unsure if he should knock and escort her to dinner or if it would be more proper to send someone to fetch her. Proper. Of course the proper thing would be for him to meet her in the dining room, to keep a professional distance between them. To hell with proper.
The door swung open just as he raised his fist to knock.
“Oh, Your Highness.” Victoria looked up at him with wide eyes. She obviously hadn’t expected to find him loitering outside her door.
“Please. Just Raphael will do.” He took in the soft material of her dress and the way it clung gently to her curves. He despised women who starved themselves in order to create some stick figure of beauty, and he could see she was not that type of woman. Real. She was a real woman, and for that reason alone, he wanted to lean over and capture her lips in a kiss.
“I was just heading down to dinner, but I’m afraid I don’t remember exactly where the dining room is.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve come to escort you.” He grinned. Her hair had been swept up in a tight bun at the back of her head, leaving her long neck exposed. He imagined trailing his finger down her jaw, lifting her chin, and nibbling on the tender spot where her shoulder and neck met.
“That would solve my dilemma nicely. Katherine didn’t come up,” she teased, stepping out of the suite and shutting the door behind her. He offered his arm to her. She slid her hand through his crooked arm, and he could feel the warmth of her skin through his jacket. He wished propriety didn’t call for a suit in order to have dinner in his own home.
“No, my sister whisked her off to who knows where for the evening.”
“Ah, so you had to make the trek all the way up here yourself?”
“It would seem so, yes.”
As they walked down the long, winding staircase to the lower level of the massive home, it occurred to him how natural it felt, holding her arm in his. Even with women he’d known for many years, escorting them through a room usually resulted in his muscles tensing and feeling stiff. But with Victoria, his body reacted to the ease of being with her. By the time they entered the dining room, he felt more relaxed than he had all day, simply by having her on his arm.
“Milliana’s the best cook on the island.” He nodded to the servers who began bringing in the first course.
“It smells wonderful.” She picked up her soup spoon and dug right in. He hadn’t touched his soup by the time she finished. He’d enjoyed watching her enjoy the meal. “You don’t like it?” she asked when she noticed he hadn’t picked up his spoon.
“Of course I do, I’m just—well, you seemed to have caught me off-guard.” He waved over servants to remove the bowls and bring out the next course. “Did you get enough rest this afternoon?” he asked, picking up his fork.
“Yes.” She nodded but looked away from him. A slight hue of pink crept into her cheeks.
“Victoria.” His tone lowered on instinct. He waited for her gaze to meet his before he continued. “You did rest this afternoon, yes?”
A gentle smile tugged at her lips. “I’ll confess to being a bit naughty.” Her chee
ks reddened even more with her choice of words. “I mean… No, not really. I took a little tour of the grounds. Specifically, the rose garden.”
He put his fork down and leaned back in his chair, giving her a firm look. Enjoying her blush immensely, he wasn’t quite ready to give it up. “And how long did you spend taking your little tour?”
Her fork scraped the plate as she pushed her lettuce around. “I got back to my room just in time to dress for dinner.” The mischievous smile she gave with her confession teased him. Oh, how he would love to return the favor and take their conversation to the next level. Disobeying him would have been a very naughty thing to do, if she were his. But she wasn’t, he reminded himself. She was off-limits. He would be married to Carmen in the spring.
Unsure how to respond after taking away his natural response, he took a long sip of his wine. “And how did you like the gardens?” he asked, the moment deflating with his change of course. Her shoulders dropped just a fraction, just enough to make him suspect she was disappointed that the moment had passed as well.
“Very beautiful. I haven’t had a backyard since I was a kid, so I love walking through gardens when I am able.” Sipping her wine, she looked down the expanse of the table. “Is no one joining us?”
He grinned. “No. Father is readying for his trip to England, and my sister had plans elsewhere.”
“Ah.” She nodded and swept her gaze around the room at the three servants waiting to see to their every need. “Well.” She cleared her throat and put her fork down. “Perhaps you should tell me a little about your fiancée. What are her likes, dislikes? That sort of thing.”
The question took him aback. Carmen’s likes? She liked being a princess, that much he knew. During one of their very limited conversations he brought up the topic of being royals. He would never go so far as to wish he hadn’t been born with royal blood. It was an honor he took very seriously, but there were days he wished he could take a day off. Indulge in a vacation day from the stress and worry. When he had brought the idea up to Carmen, mostly jokingly, she had looked confused by why he would want such a thing. She loved the privileges that came with being royalty.
“I’m afraid I won’t be much help in that area. Princess Carmen and I have only met a handful of times. “
“Oh. So, your marriage was arranged?”
“Yes. Our two countries have had a stressful relationship over the years. Our economies rely on each other to a degree. It is to the benefit of both countries that we join together, so I’m taking their princess as my wife.”
“So a marriage will heal whatever has caused the stress between your two countries?” He didn’t miss the flash of disbelief in her eyes. It was true that many countries continued to mend political fences with marriage, but it also rang true that it never really worked for very long. When one issue was resolved, another would inevitably creep up. If the two countries couldn’t work things out amicably as politicians and leaders, why would the marriage between royal families soothe ill feelings?
“In my case, it makes our alliance stronger. “
“And what about love?” she questioned him, but quickly back peddled. “I mean… Forgive me. I’m sure you will care greatly for Princess Carmen.”
“Yes. I’m sure that’s true.” He tapped his fingers on the table, and against his better judgment, pushed forward. “And you? Is there a prince of your own back home?”
“Ah. No.” She shook her head with a bit more confidence than he would expect. “I was involved with someone, but we recently decided it was better to part ways.”
Part ways? Her wording felt so clinical. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he lied. He could not have been happier to hear that she was unattached, even though, once again, he reminded himself he was not. “You don’t seem to follow the usual American girl dream of finding your happily-ever-after.” He couldn’t explain what made him say such a thing, even if it held true. She hadn’t gushed over any of the romance a royal wedding could entail. He’d talked to a few wedding planners before having met Victoria, and they had all centered their plans on the romance of royalty.
“Happily-ever-after is best left to Disney princesses.” She snorted and quickly sat straighter in her chair. “Not that you and Princess Carmen won’t be blissfully happy. I’m sure you will be.” Her cheeks reddened again, and he smiled over her discomfort.
“I’m sure we will find happiness together, yes.” He tried to sound confident, but he knew better than anyone that the odds were fairly good they would come to little more than a comfortable level of respect and affection for each other.
They ate the last course in silence, the only sounds in the room their silverware on the plate or a glass being set down after a sip of water or wine. He watched her from hooded lids, wondering what her thoughts were. He’d never given love much serious thought. He was raised a prince, and as such, marriage was an obligation. When his father had told him about Princess Carmen, he had taken the news with as much enthusiasm as he had any other royal decision his father made for the country.
Though, after sitting with Victoria for a meal, having talked more with her than he had ever with Carmen, he wondered if the marriage would be as void of unhappiness as he had thought. Speaking with Carmen felt forced and tiresome, whereas the evening floated by with Victoria as they talked. Even uncomfortable moments were easier with Victoria.
After declining dessert and coffee, Victoria rose from the table. “Dinner was wonderful.” She rubbed her stomach. “I probably won’t need to eat for at least a week after all of that.” Her laugh filled the room, making him smile. “But I am really tired now. All that fresh air this afternoon, and the deviously rich dinner… If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go up to my rooms for the evening.”
“Of course.” He pushed away from the table and met her at the door to escort her. “I’ll take you up.” He didn’t offer his arm but held her hand and linked it through his. If she found his forwardness uncomfortable, she didn’t mention it. “Now, if you had been good and rested this afternoon, you wouldn’t be going to bed so early, Victoria.” He couldn’t help but tease on their way up to her rooms.
“You are probably right,” she agreed. “I suppose it’s a just punishment. At least I wasn’t sent to bed without supper.” He delighted in the sparkle in her eye when she teased him.
“Not this time, but perhaps in the future that would be a more effective punishment for disobeying me.” They came to a stop at her doors, and she turned a surprised look at him. He had meant for the statement to hold much more levity than it had. Although inside, he felt secure in his dominant tendencies, it was no place to play at such thoughts. His fiancée would be arriving the next day, and he would never be unfaithful.
“I— Thank you… for dinner and the escort back to my rooms. I hope I will have this place memorized before your nuptials. Wouldn’t do for the wedding planner to get lost among the maze of halls.” She grinned. Her hands fidgeted at her sides. “Well, uh, good night, then.”
“Yes. I will see you in the morning. I have a breakfast meeting, so I’ll have your breakfast brought to your rooms. Carmen will be arriving at ten, but I think you and she can meet at lunch. Give yourself some time to enjoy more of the gardens if you wish.” He leaned forward and turned the knob on the door, his shoulder brushing against hers as he pushed the door inward. “Sleep well, Victoria.” He pulled his hand back and fisted it in his pocket. It was the only way he could keep from reaching out and touching her, pulling her to him and kissing her soundly.
Her neck convulsed as she swallowed hard. “Yes, Thanks… I mean, thank you. You, too. Sleep well, that is.” The blush kissed her cheeks again just before she ducked into the apartments and shut the door. Her eyes locked with his until the very last second.
VICTORIA
Having dinner with a prince had not been as nerve-wracking as Victoria had worried. She hadn’t taken a nap as he had suggested because her mind continued to race through all t
he protocols and manners she would most likely screw up when they sat down to eat. It threw her how easily they talked and how she never once felt as though she were doing the wrong thing at the wrong time.
Although being served by his staff had felt strange, she managed to adjust quickly to her surroundings. She knew there would be plenty of lessons she would learn in proper protocol for the wedding and looked forward to Raphael taking the time to teach her.
As she sank into the bed, she heard the bedroom door open and a soft light from the living room cascaded across her bed. Sitting up, she was eye-to-eye with Raphael standing in the doorway. He had shed his suit jacket, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. “I was thinking about your disobedience, Victoria, and I feel that it can’t go unpunished.” His firm voice filled the room.
She swallowed hard and pulled the covers up to her chin, knowing the material was a poor barricade. Not sure what to say, she remained silent.
“You were a naughty girl, roaming through my rose garden when you were supposed to be resting.” She blinked, and he was at her side, sitting on the bed beside her. “Very naughty.” He reached a hand out to her, cupping her chin in his palm. “And do you know what I do to naughty girls that disobey me?” He moved closer, their noses almost touching.
“No.” She finally exhaled.
“I give them hard spankings on their bare bottoms.” His lips pressed against hers, filling her with more desire than she could recall having in the past. “Do you agree you were a naughty girl?” He released her chin.
“Yes, Raphael. I was.” She nodded and scooted out from under the covers. He held her hand and led her to stand to his right.
“Then lie over my lap, pull up your night gown, and ask me for your spanking.”
His eyes bored into her with a darkness that drew her in. Silently, she nodded and gathered the hem of her white lace nightgown, holding it at her waist as she crawled over his thighs.
