He kissed her knuckles and what looked like a comet sped past them in the sky. "Renee, will you be my girlfriend?"
Nice and slow—he understood her and that mattered. "Yes." She lifted her chin for his kiss. Tonight, it was just the two of them and no one else in the world mattered.
13
Renee, secure in Marco’s arms, danced at Kristin’s wedding. Her best friend's ceremony had been a blur of activity. Renee pretty much did whatever the queen commanded, and it wasn’t until they were all at the altar that she’d finally met the other brother, Lucio. Antonio was too severe for her taste. Lucio seemed too brooding. Marco with that smile of his that made the room illuminate was the most handsome one in the family, by far.
He twirled her around the marble dance floor, music from a quartet on stage playing, a crush of local royals as well as special friends of the family in attendance. The slow song ended and he swept her into a dark alcove.
A sigh escaped her lips and she kissed him.
If only every day could be as perfect as this.
Marco danced them back into the crowd where she knew people talked about them. She didn't care that people took her picture. So what if her parents saw that she was with Marco? Their opinions no longer mattered. The country club life was not for her, anyway, no matter what happened with Marco, and she was glad she’d come to that realization before she’d made a terrible mistake.
Marco twirled her and she tipped her head back and laughed with pure joy.
He was everything she could ever want, all wrapped up in one amazing body. Now she just had to believe that he might one day love her.
Renee had to trust him. Earlier, he’d referred to her as his American girlfriend to the World Press.
The song changed to a faster beat. Marco's hands shifted from her waist and palm to her shoulder. Queen Anna Camilla stood at her seat, which was more like a small throne next to the king, and the music stopped.
Marco directed her toward his family that all sat at a table much grander than everyone else’s and they stood behind his mother who held the king's hand. "In an almost unanimous vote, we are grateful that the people of Avce have decided to allow us to continue. We look forward to the future, where our family continues to bless and offer blessings in return."
"I told you the people in our country approve of my family," Marco whispered. He held her in front of him, with his arms wrapped around hers. "The threat was from the outside and I'm working full time to ensure no one else harms our family."
"I believe you." Renee smiled as more people took pictures of them. Once the flash of lights ended, she saw that her friend beamed from happiness next to her new husband. "Kristin and Antonio seem so happy. I'm glad we came here for her to find true love."
"True love is rare." He turned her toward him and she glanced up to meet his gaze, while still in his arms. "Why don't we go change out of these clothes? Throw on a pair of jeans. I want to take you sailing tonight, just you and me."
"Sounds awesome." She pointed to her blue Christian Louboutin heels. "Flats will be nice."
"Come." While his family was occupied with answering questions, he led her toward a back door where the warm night air tickled her skin from outside though they were simply in the foyer. "Meet me by the stairs in ten minutes."
"Fifteen." She shook her head but stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "It's going to take me three minutes just to reach my room in these shoes."
"Hurry." He kissed her forehead. The warmth of his breath made her knees weak. She turned to head up the stairs, but he yanked her back into his arms. He captured her lips in a claiming kiss.
Last night, on the roof, he’d claimed every inch of her body and now she ached to have him again.
A laugh in the distance broke their spell. He reluctantly released her and she made her way to the first step. Their gaze never parted. In the next step, she'd lose sight of him. Near the turn, she winked and hurried around the dark corner. Out of his sight, she slipped off her heels, held them in her hand and rushed up the steps.
Near her door, she hummed the last song they’d danced to as she walked into her room. If Marco was in love with her then there was no way she'd ever leave. How could she turn her back on a chance at true love?
She closed the door behind her, dreaming, dancing, and flipped the light on. Her eyes adjusted and she screamed.
Her maid, Anise, in her black uniform, her usual bun completely wrecked, was tied to the chair and Renee's clothes were everywhere—her room had been ransacked. Renee couldn't breathe. Every cell in her body wanted to run away, but she threw her high heels on the floor and rushed inside to help Anise. "What happened? Are you okay?"
Renee untied the knots of thin rope keeping Anise captive on the cushioned bench. Her wrists had been tied behind her back and her ankles together.
Anise rubbed her red wrist. "There is a note, miss."
Her heart was racing, but she picked up the paper with her name on it.
She read it aloud. "No more Americans in our country. Leave now if you want to live." Renee hugged the paper to her chest. This was too much. Her brain couldn't process the situation. But she was smart—and standing in front of rowdy high school kids had taught her to bluff confidence.
"Are you all right, Anise?"
Her maid nodded once, her face pale.
"What did they look like?"
"I didn’t see anybody."
Renee selected jeans and a t-shirt. She'd bring the note to Marco. There wasn’t a 911 to call within the palace.
Anise began tidying the room, picking up clothes and shoes. "Don't," Renee said. "I want Marco and the guard to see what happened."
"Yes, miss. Of course. I'm not thinking straight right now." Anise straightened her spine. "I'd like to take a break."
"Go. Tell your family you're okay—I will send Marco or General Babik to question you—you don’t have to stay." Renee put on her Givenchy ballet shoes. "I’m glad you weren’t hurt."
Anise left and Renee tossed her clothes on and ran out the door to find Marco.
Perhaps her father was right and she needed to find a guy that was stable and down to earth. Marco was from a different universe and right now she felt their worlds didn’t mesh. Home and hearth were more important than glitter and designer clothes. She raced down the stairs again, holding the railing to keep steady.
Marco had said to meet him in fifteen minutes, and twenty had passed. He’d understand once she showed him the note in her hand. He'd know what to do.
Halfway down the stairs, she took a sharp corner and literally ran into Greg.
He slipped back, but clutched the banner to keep from falling backward.
"Sorry!"
"It’s fine. Where are you going in such a hurry?"
Greg had just survived being a target so he was the only person in the world who must have felt remotely this way. Threatened in a foreign country. He smiled at her and slipped his hands in his pockets. "Kristin's wedding was beautiful. I'm glad I was here for it."
"Are you?" The image of a bomb strapped around his body replayed in her mind. She'd be in the psychologist's office trying to make the images stop if she was in his shoes. "I don't see how you can be so chill. You almost died yesterday."
She’d not mention he had a thing for Kristin as that seemed rude.
Greg shrugged, like he hadn't a care in the world. "The royal family has been nice to me. I'm on the way to get my bags and head to the airport to go home and see my mom."
"You're going home?" Renee's mind flashed with possibilities. If she was in her apartment, safe in Miami, no one would try to hurt her. No one would care who she was to threaten her—here, as Marco’s girlfriend, she was vulnerable. Her bed and her fluffy slippers that Kristin always made fun of were like a beacon of light. Home. White walls, art posters.
Greg pointed in the opposite direction and placed his hand on her back, to hug her goodbye. "My flight leaves soon. Antonio Aussa lent me his pers
onal jet so that I could fly home quickly and in comfort."
She hugged him.
Marco's waiting arms called to her, but the threatening note insisted she leave. It was time she followed that. Her life wasn't that bad as a teacher—she had her own money, her independence, and she made a difference to some of the kids. She took a deep breath, hugged her waist, and asked, "Greg, can I go with you? I don't want to be here anymore."
"Sure." He took the first step in the opposite direction of where she intended. He had no idea, but she followed while he said, "The car's out front."
Right. With the wedding celebration still happening, Marco’s family wouldn't stop her. The harsh reality was that Marco had only ever been a dream—even her mother had said Renee was not cut out to be a princess. She and Marco were not destined for forever. It was time to run home. She nodded and followed Greg in the opposite direction.
Her mind painted the vivid picture of Marco, in jeans and a light sweater, waiting near the door to the veranda that led down to the river. For her. Her stomach tightened with regret.
She slipped the paper into the back pocket of her jeans and walked with Greg. It was better to let Marco remember her in her bridesmaid’s dress, gorgeous and kissing him with unbridled passion, because for the rest of her life, she'd remember him in his black tuxedo, leading her gracefully around the dance floor.
14
Marco waited by the veranda for thirty minutes. Renee never appeared. He checked his watch, his instincts on high alert. She'd been excited about sailing, and leaving the crowded party, but now party goers were beginning to exit the ballroom.
He made his way toward her room. If Renee was changing still, he could wait for her.
But his gut told him something was up.
He knocked on her door, but no answer came. Footsteps sounded in the hall and he looked to his side. Renee's maid lowered her head as if trying to avoid his attention. He called out, "Is Renee still inside?"
"No, sir." She continued to study the floor. "She said she went to find you, and I wasn't to clean the room until you saw."
"Saw what?" Alarmed, he pushed open her bedroom door.
Her clothes were thrown everywhere, and the place looked broken into. "What happened here? Who did this?"
Anise shrugged. "I don't know, Prince Marco. She took the note and went to find you on the back stairwell."
"What note?"
"Whoever did this left it on the vanity." The maid’s shoulders trembled with fear.
He wouldn’t get any answers until he knew what had happened. He'd thought he'd secured her room. Once he was in the hallway again, he called Babik and went to his office. Security footage in the castle would reveal what happened to her.
He ignored the racing thoughts in his head that something awful had happened while he sat at his desk. Security sent him the footage he’d asked for.
He turned on the monitor and hit play. Then he saw Renee racing down the stairs with a paper in hand, but then she bumped into Greg, stopping to speak with him. Marco listened to the fragments of conversation the security footage picked up and heard the word flight.
Without one suitcase, Kristin walked, half jumpy and looking behind her, but she went with Greg toward the car and Marco’s stomach clenched but he understood everything. He needed to see her. He needed to tell her not to go. He needed her, here. His pulse ratcheted with the immediate urge to chase her.
He assumed Greg was about to fly on the family jet. He reached for the phone on his desk, thankful for once that he was a prince, and was patched through to air traffic control. His brother's jet was scheduled to leave for Miami within the hour. He told dispatch, "Hold their flight until I arrive."
"Yes, Your Highness," the controller responded. His heart stirred. He had time to get to her.
Without a word to anyone, he left his office and headed to the family garage. Cars for the royal wedding were parked everywhere, neatly trapping his Bentley. He eyed his motorcycle, which could weave through traffic.
He grabbed two helmets off the shelf and found the key near the valet stand.
The hum of the engine drowned out his doubts. Once he maneuvered out of the parking nightmare, he revved the engine at the front door of the castle and took off at full speed.
Renee needed to know he'd protect her. If she still wanted to leave after he’d had his say, he'd say goodbye and go home.
Right now, he pushed faster and drove onto the tarmac, waving at security. No one said a word to him as he rode up to his family plane.
Marco parked his motorcycle next to the front door of the jet. The door opened and metal steps descended. Renee followed cautiously. "Marco, what are you doing here?"
He took off his helmet to look her in the eye. "Why are you running home?"
"I'm... scared." She reached the last stair and the tarmac. "I told you I couldn't handle more threats."
"I didn't take you as someone who runs away, Renee." He hopped off his motorcycle. "You could have at least told me what had happened. Was I to just wonder what went wrong?"
"If I saw you, then I'd never leave." She hugged her waist though her eyes still seemed haunted as her hair came out from that slick style from the wedding. "I can't figure out what I really want if I'm scared."
He crossed his arms and stood his ground. "So you're running away."
She came closer, but the space between them seemed a huge gap. "You are right. I’m sorry. But Marco, I know I made a mistake and I want to go home with you. If you will have me."
Her words pierced through his armor. He'd assumed she'd want to leave. His respect grew. Right now, he didn't know anything else, but the moment she stood in front of him, truly sorry, his heart expanded. He couldn't explain so he reached behind him for the second helmet and offered it to her. "Come here and hop on."
She took the helmet and buckled it on her head. "I've never ridden on a motorcycle. My mom said-"
"It's time you start living your life on your own terms." He hopped on his bike, then offered his arm for balance as she climbed behind him.
Her hands slid around his waist, and her head rested against his back. Marco suddenly understood what he wanted, on his own terms. Renee.
She made him feel in a way no other woman ever had. It wasn't just that he had to possess her. She was his and somehow in all this mess she’d taken part of his soul. Without her he'd been lost. He revved the motorcycle. "Don't leave me again."
She hugged him tighter as he rode off the tarmac toward the airport exit. The sooner they were alone, the better, but first he needed to take her to the South Castle. If he could convince her to marry him, they'd spend their lives there.
15
Renee smelled the ocean water just as they arrived at a pier. Marco rode his motorcycle onto the dock and stopped in front of a ferry boat.
"How did you like your first ride?" He helped her from the back of the bike. She unhooked her helmet, took it off, and breathed deep of the salt in the air.
"I loved being that close to you with the wind brushing against my skin."
Marco grinned and guided his motorcycle onto the ferry.
"Where are we going now?" Renee followed behind him slightly as he pushed the motorcycle.
"On the boat."
Obviously, but she held back that retort. Instead she came beside him where he parked the bike. "And then where?"
He pointed toward the ocean that seemed dark and unending. "My castle is this way. One day we'll live there."
Her heart pounded in her chest. Had she misheard him? Her cheeks heated. "We?"
"When you marry me." He guided her to where other passengers sat, his hand warm around hers.
She pulled back and stopped him before they walked onto the main part of the ship. The night wind brushed a slight coldness onto her body, but it didn't cool her down. Her heart beat too fast. She held his hand to her chest. "You haven't asked. We haven't discussed anything, like how we feel or what's going on."
/> He kissed her fingers. "Wait until we get to the castle." He squeezed her hand and led her to the right side of the ferry. "For now, let's go say hello to the people who live on the island."
"Okay..." She had no objection to meeting new people, but he couldn’t just assume that they would get married. She hugged his arm to her chest and tried to joke off how she felt, "Guess you got me on a ship after all tonight."
Marco stopped at a couple in their late forties, early fifties, and smiled at them. Keeping her at his side, he said, "Renee, this is Mikel, and Ingrid. They are bakers on the island."
She held out her hand, but neither of them shook hers. Ingrid curtsied and a moment later, Mikel bowed. Ingrid then said, "We'll send up fresh bread in the morning for you, Princess."
"I'm not a princess." Renee shook her head and elbowed Marco for him to correct them.
He didn’t. Ingrid shyly smiled and said, "I see the way our prince looks at you. You'll be our princess soon."
Marco, chuckling at her discomfort, said goodbye to the couple and held her hand near his chest while they walked to meet a younger gentleman about their age. "Don’t be mad, Renee." They stopped in front of the man. "This is Henri, he works in the South Castle."
The handsome man with a slight tan could probably get any girl he wanted in the states. He nodded at Marco. "Hello, Your Highness." Then smiled at her. "It will be a pleasure to have you stay with us permanently."
Marco kept his arm around her shoulder and narrowed his gaze at Henri. "How do you feel about Americans?"
Henri grinned at her. "This one is quite lovely, Your Highness."
Marco rumbled a laugh. "I agree."
"Thank you." Her cheeks grew hotter. Henri seemed way too at ease to be a servant, though she kept that thought to herself. Maybe that is what Marco wanted in his castle.
"This way, Renee." Marco guided her toward the front of the ferry where they could be alone.
Forbidden Prince (Princes of Avce Book 2) Page 8
