PRINCE CHARMING: A Secret Baby Stepbrother Romance

by Mia Carson

  “Not at the moment, no.”

  “So you’re an ink virgin,” he said and watched her whole body stiffen. He bit his tongue. She’s a real virgin, too? How the hell is that even possible, he thought as he stared at her body.

  “Guess so,” she said and took a stack of clothes to the wardrobe.

  He tried not to laugh in amazement at having such a unique person living just down the hall and started to unpack the rest of her things. He flipped the suitcase top closed and unzipped the front pouch. There was a pink bag in there. He glanced over his shoulder, but she hadn’t noticed yet, so he slowly pulled it out and dug through the pink tissue paper and felt something soft and lacy.

  “What are you doing? Give me that!” she yelled, but it was too late.

  Quincy grabbed whatever it was and pulled it free from the bag. It dropped to the floor, and he was holding a set of black lacy panties, bra, and a sexy teddy that almost caused him to blush. He looked up to see his future stepsister charge across the room, fuming and looking ready to kill him.

  Chapter 3

  At her first ever dinner at the palace, Olivia wanted nothing more than to hide away in her rooms. Her face was still red from watching Quincy pull out the ridiculous lingerie that Helen had insisted on sending with her. From the smirk still on his face as he sat across from her, he was still picturing them in his hands before she’d grabbed them and yelled at him to get out. She was pretty sure she’d threatened to strangle him at some point. Probably not the best idea since he was the prince, but if it bothered him, he didn’t show it.

  “Olivia,” Lamont said from the head of the small table in the dining room. “Your mother tells me your art classes are going well?”

  She bowed her head a bit. “Yes, they are. I’m working on my senior portfolio now. Or I’ll be trying to. I know I have royal stuff and wedding stuff to do, but maybe I’ll be able to find some time to complete it.”

  “Nonsense. You just let Quincy know when you need time, and he’ll make sure you get it. I do expect you to be at the more important functions, but even I’ll admit that the dinners with the elite of our country are not always the most entertaining.” He laughed. “Your mother would know, too.”

  “Yes I would, though, it wasn’t all that bad,” Melinda said and reached out a hand for Lamont’s. “It’s where I bumped into you, after all.”

  Olivia smiled at them and returned to her plate. The food was light and delicious, fish with fresh mango sauce. It was nothing like what they ate back home. She might actually be able to keep a nice figure all summer eating like this.

  “Tomorrow I think I will have Quincy show you the city,” Lamont went on.

  “That would be wonderful,” Olivia said. She smiled at Quincy as she aimed a kick at his leg under the table. He jumped when she made contact and coughed to cover his curse.

  “Problem, son?”

  “No, nothing. Just didn’t chew long enough,” he assured his father. He took a long sip of wine, watching Olivia over the top of his glass.

  “Good. Then tomorrow, you two shall go to the city. I expect you to show her everything she needs to know about her new home. All the historic sites, and, for the love of God, do not take her to that nightclub you frequent.”

  “Nightclub?” Olivia asked. She was surprised they had one.

  Quincy smirked. “Yes. It’s a local hangout.”

  “Not for a prince and a future princess. You are not to go there.”

  “Of course, Father. I will not go there with Olivia.”

  She watched the stare-down between father and son, wondering just how much crap Quincy had given his father over the years. He was definitely not the prince she expected to meet when she got off the plane, but maybe that was a good thing. The last thing she wanted was to be stuck with a boring, goodie-two-shoes man.

  As she stifled a yawn, Lamont smiled and laid down his fork. “Olivia, you may feel free to turn in for the night. It’s been a long day.”

  “I don’t mind,” she said. “I don’t want to be rude.”

  “Please, I insist. We shall see you first thing in the morning.”

  Olivia stood, grateful for a reason to leave the table. She kissed her mother’s head before saying good night to the king and prince. She left the dining room and made her way through the palace and back up to her room. It was still early in the evening, and though she was exhausted, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep so easily.

  She wandered around the halls, admiring the masonry of the old palace. The stone was old but well-maintained and cool to the touch. Wooden beams rose up the walls and to the ceiling overhead, carved and decorated with images of palm leaves. Everywhere she looked, there was such wonderful artistic detail. She wanted to get her sketchbook and sit there for hours, taking it all in. The courtyard was one place she wanted to see up close, but it was dark and she had a feeling the sunlight increased its beauty. That would be a sight she’d save for tomorrow morning.

  The way to her room was lined with portraits of old monarchs—kings and queens, their children, even a few horses and dogs. One day, her face would be hung up there as well, which was insane. To think future generations would walk down this hall and see Olivia’s and her mother’s faces.

  “I guess stranger things have happened,” she muttered to herself.

  On her way to her room, she passed another door. The servants had told her Prince Quincy’s rooms were beside hers around the turn. Glancing up and down the hall to make sure she was alone, Olivia went to the doors and turned the handles. They swung open quietly, and she stood on the threshold. Curiosity finally got the better of her and she stepped inside, leaving the doors opened behind her.

  “Payback for the panties.” She looked around his rooms and wondered what embarrassing things the prince might be hiding.

  His rooms were relatively clean, which he probably didn’t do himself. She’d never get used to having servants picking up after her and waiting on her hand and foot. It was weird. Her mom seemed to enjoy it, but not Olivia. There were too many people.

  She ran her hands along the bookshelf that stretched the length of the far wall, reading titles she recognized and wondered if he’d ever cracked the books open. A bowl of fresh mangos sat on a nearby table and beside that, a stack of folders tossed carelessly down so their papers were spilling out. She knew she shouldn’t, but a bit of a photograph stuck out and she saw half of a woman’s face. Olivia flipped open the first one and stared at the image. The woman was young, and when she moved the photo aside, a full background on her filled the paper. Princess. The woman was a princess from a small European nation.

  Olivia frowned as her hands twitched, not sure why it bothered her. She flipped open the second one and the third. Wealthy families, elite social members, another princess. Why did he have all these folders?

  Then it hit her, and she backed away from the table. Possible wives. Of course he would have to marry someone in his league. It made sense, but from the looks of it, it wasn’t going to be his choice. She’d seen a bit of pent up frustration earlier when he’d walked into her rooms. Was it because of this?

  Knowing he could return any second, she tucked the folders back where they had been and hurried out of his rooms. The doors closed just as silently as they’d opened, and Olivia walked quickly to her room. The whole time, she couldn’t stop her hands from twitching at her sides. She needed to draw something, or to paint. There was too much going on inside her mind to deal with unless she could let it out the only way she knew how.

  Thankfully, she’d brought a few small canvases, and when she reached her room, she pulled one out of a black carrying case and retrieved the paints from her suitcase.

  Why did it bother her so much to think of him with another woman? He was going to be her stepbrother, for God’s sake! But though she knew it to be wrong, a voice in the back of her mind said there was nothing wrong with that. No blood relation. No reason
she couldn’t feel what she felt every time he walked in a room. It was only their first day together. How the hell was she going to survive him for an entire summer?

  ***

  Quincy didn’t enter his rooms until later that night after making it through the rest of dinner, dessert, and a few very annoying looks from his father at the mention of weddings happening later that year. Melinda had, of course, been talking about hers, but his father had hinted at Quincy’s several different times.

  It was going to be a ridiculously long summer of Quincy trying to dodge the possible bachelorettes his father would invite to the island, and, even worse, the ones that lived on the isle. He was sure they would attend every function possible to get a glimpse of the single prince up for marriage.

  Pascal had greeted him at the door, but he’d waved his servant away. He was not in the mood for idle chitchat or having someone tell him over and over again that the sooner he decided on a woman and got a wife, the sooner the king would leave him alone… for a while. Then the king would be demanding grandchildren to ensure his line. And one day very soon, Quincy would be expected to become the King of the Isle Bijoux.

  “There is no way I can be a king yet,” he muttered to the night air as he stepped out onto his balcony. “No way in hell. Not yet.”

  Things had been happening very quickly lately, and Quincy had a hard time keeping up. He enjoyed his late nights at the club, drinking and flirting with the local girls. He never brought any of them home, but having the freedom to go out and do that was what Quincy was worried about losing. Being the king meant being responsible for the entire island and everyone on it. He leaned on the railing of the balcony and breathed in the salty air as it blew through the courtyard. It was humid again, but he was accustomed to it. The air did not bother him.

  He watched as the servants finished their duties for the day and wandered to their quarters within the palace walls. All of this was his. All these people. He heard someone curse and glanced to the right to see his soon-to-be-stepsister out on the balcony. Olivia.

  An easel was set up in front of her, and she sat on a tall stool in front of a large canvas. The canvas itself looked like an array of colors, but from this distance, he couldn’t make out what she worked on. Quincy took a bottle of wine from his personal stash and headed out of his room to the balcony. He’d figured out how to climb from one balcony to the next when he was about ten.

  Quincy picked up the small leather bag he always kept handy nearby for times like these, stashed the wine in it, and climbed up on the railing. The ledge of stone that stretched around the entire courtyard was wide enough for him to fit his foot sideways, and up above, stones jutted out so he could hold them and scuttle to the next balcony. The only time he didn’t do it was when everything was slick from recent rains. One time, he’d nearly plummeted straight down, and though he might not die from the fall, a broken back or leg was not something he wanted to deal with.

  He made it around the corner and to Olivia’s balcony. She had stepped inside, muttering under her breath, and he took it as his chance to hop over the railing. A moment later, she stepped back out.

  “Evening, Olivia.”

  “What the hell?” She jumped back as she yelled, and her eyes widened. “Prince Quincy, how did you get in here?” She glanced over her shoulder, and he followed her look to the closed door. “Where the hell did you come from?”

  “I have my secrets,” he said with a shrug. “Care for some wine?”

  She watched him pull the bottle out, and he motioned at the canvas before them. It was a rendering of the view they had seen from atop the cliff earlier that day. Her technique was beautiful and the colors were nearly perfect.

  “You sounded frustrated. Why? This looks fantastic.”

  “It looks alright,” she said as she stared at it, too. “I can’t get the colors right for the sea and the grass. I think the altitude messed with my paints.”

  The way she scrunched her face up at it made Quincy smile, and he felt a flutter in his chest. “It is possible, I guess, but then I am not a painter. I am, however, a great procurer of fine wines.”

  “Sure, why not?” she replied and set her brushes down. “I guess… Come in?”

  He grinned as he followed her inside, remembering what happened the last time he was in her rooms. Sadly, all her clothes and undergarments appeared to have been put away. “Are you settled in well enough?” he asked as she took two glasses from the side table and handed them over.

  “I guess so. I still feel like I’m on vacation, though,” she said.

  “In a way you are, aren’t you? The summer is your only time here?”

  She took the glass he offered and stared down into the depths of red wine. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “You think you might stay?”

  “I don’t know yet. I still have a bit of schooling left to do, but my mom’s going to be here, and I’m not sure how I feel returning to the States as a princess. How would that even work?”

  Quincy sipped his wine as he tried to read her face. She was worried, but there was something else there. Did she have a man back at home waiting for her? He’d thought Melinda said Olivia was single, and the thought of another man near her made his hand clench dangerously tight around the glass.

  “I do not know. I’m certain you’d have your own small guard detail.”

  She choked on her wine. “Seriously?”

  “No. No offense to your future princess status, but we’re not exactly a large country,” he said. “I’m sure half the world doesn’t even know we’re here.”

  “I didn’t either, ‘til mom came home with her news.”

  “And you’re not happy for her?”

  Olivia sipped her wine as she wandered around the room. “I am. Your dad’s great and she’s really happy, but I don’t know what this means for me.” She stared at him for a long moment, and Quincy wondered what she was thinking. “I thought you brought the wine over for your own sake.”

  Now it was his turn to look surprised. “What do you mean? I’m sure you won’t be that bad of a princess.” He laughed but stopped when her eyes fell and her cheeks turned red. “What did I miss?”

  “Nothing… You didn’t miss anything.”

  “Oh no, you don’t get to just say that and then not tell me,” he said as he set down his wine glass. “Olivia, we’re going to be siblings soon. You can tell me anything. Why would I need a bottle of wine?”

  She shifted from one foot to the other as her cheeks turned even redder. “I may have gone into your room, trying to find something embarrassing to make up for the underwear thing,” she confessed quickly.

  Quincy still didn’t follow and laughed. “So? If I wanted people to stay out of my room, I would lock the door more often.”

  “Well, I’m sure you didn’t want me to see the folders.”

  For a second, he wasn’t sure what she meant. “Ah, those folders. Yes, well, it’s not exactly a secret amongst the islanders, so I guess there’s no harm in you knowing it, too. Cheers then, to two weddings this year!” The words were bitter as he swallowed the rest of his wine and poured another glass.

  Olivia reached out a hand, but it fell back to her side before it reached him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

  “No, I’m not upset at you,” he assured her. “I’m going to have to face it sooner or later.”

  Silence fell over them until Olivia moved closer and clinked her glass against his. “Well, at least for now, you have a drinking buddy to get you through.”

  Quincy smiled. “That I do. Come then, future sister of mine, let us drink to our soon-to-be-sibling lives of secrets and rivalry,” he teased, but even as the words left his lips, he felt a slight pang of regret in his chest. What it meant, he had no idea.

  Chapter 4

  Sun streamed in through the wooden blinds the following morning, and Olivia rolled over, trying to bury her head under the covers. A moment later, they were suddenl
y yanked from her bed. “What the hell?”

  “Good morning, miss,” a woman with a heavy French accent said as she stood at the foot of the bed. Olivia frowned when she saw her blankets in the woman’s arms. She was young, maybe a few years older than Olivia, and had a smile on her face that wavered between being amused and polite.

  “Morning. Was that necessary? Who are you?”

  “I am Allete, miss, your personal servant while you are here on the Isle of Bijoux.”

  “Oh, right… Well, I’m not used to having a servant,” Olivia said as politely as she could. “I really don’t know what to do with one… I mean you. Or any of this.”

  “Of course, miss, but I’m afraid I am here for you no matter what, as are these other ladies,” she said and clapped her hands once. Four more women of varying ages came through Olivia’s bedroom door, and she cringed inwardly. “We are your ladies-in-waiting.”

  Olivia nodded as she screamed inside her mind. What the hell did Mom drag me into? “So you all will be around me, all the time?”

  The women smiled before they moved around the room, opening the blinds and the doors to the balcony to let in the fresh morning air. Allete set Olivia’s blankets back on her bed and walked to the wardrobe across the room.

  “Not all the time,” she said over her shoulder. “But we are meant to assist you with your everyday needs and, of course, for the many special occasions you will attend.”

  Olivia fell back onto her pillow with a groan. “Don’t remind me. I can’t do this. I’m from Nebraska, and the only royalty there was queen of the Fall Festival.” She put a hand over her face and decided maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She didn’t know the first thing about palaces and servants or dealing with high-class occasions like balls. All she wanted was a place to do her art, but instead, she’d been whisked away to an island kingdom to watch her mother get married. And to become a freaking princess in the twenty-first century.

  “You will do just fine because we will teach you. Your future stepbrother, the crown prince, has been instructed to show you the proper ways of doing things,” Allete assured her. “The first order of business is getting a future princess ready to start her day.”