“I can’t believe he finally asked!” Stella was surprised to feel the prickle of tears in her eyes. Honestly, she’d been expecting the news, as had everyone, for months. She’d been thinking she’d have to fake happiness for her friend, but was pleased to discover it came easily and naturally now that the moment was here. Why shouldn’t Alix have her happy ending with her prince charming, just because her own had turned out more like a never-ending booty call?
She refused to think of Anton right now, but couldn’t help it. Alix and Duncan had met the same night she’d finally hooked up with Anton, and yet their story had taken such a different road.
“Well, technically this is the second time he asked,” Alix said, reminding Stella of the only bit of drama in her love story: Duncan’s desperate plea to change her plans after college to go volunteer, and stay in Prynesse with him to be queen. Thank goodness Leo had decided not to abdicate, or Alix’s life – and Stella’s – would have been completely different.
“Well, it sounds like it went much better this time,” Stella couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m so happy for you!”
She could practically hear Alix beaming from across the ocean.
“I’m sorry things aren’t great with Anton right now,” Alix said, her voice suddenly full of concern. “What’s he done now?”
Stella let out a frustrated groan, and leaned back on the couch, kicking off her heels. This might take awhile.
“He hasn’t done anything, that’s the problem,” she said. “It’s been two years of this back and forth. He’ll be into me for a few months, then goes into a total art hermit mode, forgetting all about me, then pops up in the spring like a hungry bear waking up from hibernation looking for food.”
Alix chuckled.
“A hungry bear, huh?”
Stella rolled her eyes.
“Well, hungry for something.” She tried to laugh, but just couldn’t find it funny anymore. It really hadn’t bothered her, not at first. She was nearly as insatiable as he was in that department. Those first weeks and months had been fun, figuring out new ways to keep him entertained between the sheets. Right around the five-month mark, however, his interest always seemed to wane.
Since they were never anything official, he would just kind of float off, not answering her texts. The first time she had freaked out, especially without Alix there to talk to about it. By now Stella had learned to be patient. He always resurfaced after a few months, with a new exhibit ready to go and a strong desire to make up for weeks of celibacy.
Two years into this routine, however, and she was starting to get tired of it, even if he was still her ideal man in every way: insanely gorgeous and talented, not to mention the most eligible prince in Prynesse. With two older brothers, one with a baby, he was far enough away from the throne to get into all sorts of fun without too many raised eyebrows.
“Stella, I’m so sorry, you should have told me,” Alix said. “I know I’ve been so busy with school and everything, I wish I had called you more often.”
“No, it’s fine,” Stella said, and she meant it. “I’m heading out tonight with some of the girls. I like being able to have fun without him. He’ll be back eventually.”
It wasn’t the happy ending she’d imagined for herself, but she wasn’t sure what else to do at this point. She’d settle for a crazy night of dancing after a long week at work.
She glanced out her window at the dark evening sky as she stood to adjust her dress and put on her heels again. She should probably be wearing something a little warmer for the cool fall weather, but she was all about form before function in her weekend style. The rest of the week her work kept her in conservative skirt suits and kitten heels. Sometimes, she needed a break.
“Where are you headed? Gilt?”
“Where else?” The scene of Duncan and Alix’s first meeting was still the best and most exclusive club in the city, that had taken over the lower levels of an 18th century villa-turned-office-building.
“I’ll try to video chat, more, okay?” Alix said, and Stella heard Duncan’s voice calling her in the background. “And I’ll be back for the coronation at Christmas, we can strategize then, if things aren’t already better.”
“I’m sure they will be.”
Stella kept her voice cheerful for her friend, not wanting to ruin her happiness. But in her heart, she wasn’t sure that she was still willing to give Anton any more chances to make things better.
Chapter 2
Anton reveled in the warmth beneath his hands. He traced the smooth curves with a finger, barely able to contain his anticipation. He was ready to get started. He’d waited long enough.
At the sudden shrill ringing of his phone, he cursed and pulled his hand off the piece of clay he’d been holding. He thought he’d turned it off. He really needed to concentrate.
He looked around the chaos of his studio, searching for the phone. It was an enormous space, in the back garden of one of the royal properties in town. Moonlight was shining down on and endless array of half-finished works. He also has a smaller studio in his apartment at the top of a luxury apartment in the newer business neighborhood of the Prynesse capital. The light there was perfect during the day for painting, but for his larger works he needed more space. Not that it seemed to be helping. He was really struggling with things. He’d been working too hard.
He grabbed a cloth hanging from one of his failed bronze creations to wipe the clay from his hands. The ringing continued. When he finally found the phone, perched atop a stack of boxes containing a very particular shade of blue he’d special ordered, he looked at the screen and let out a sigh.
“Duncan, this had better be good,” he said gruffly, not even attempting to hide his irritation at his brother. “I’m working.”
A chuckle from the other end.
“On a piece or Stella?”
Anton didn’t answer. He’d put up with enough of his siblings’ teasing about her over the past few years. He didn’t need to explain what they had to anyone. It worked just fine for them; who cared what everyone else thought?
“Hmm, a piece I guess,” Duncan said, undeterred by Anton’s irate silence. “Well, I have some news.”
Anton waited for Duncan to say more and clicked his tongue when he remained silent.
“Well? I don’t have all night.”
Another chuckle. God, he’s annoying when he’s in a good mood. Which had basically been the past year and a half since he’d flown halfway across the world to declare his love to Alix. The press had had a field day with that. Anton hadn’t minded giving up his role as the main source of tabloid fodder in the royal family. He had been front page news since he was sixteen. The young noblewomen of Prynesse were not known for their discretion. Stella’s unexpected streak of privacy the past few years had been a welcome break.
“Alix and I are getting married.”
Anton’s face broke into a genuine smile.
“Congratulations!” he said, and he meant it. Annoying as Duncan’s good mood was, it was still infinitely better than the aimless uncertainly he’d gone through since graduating. He enjoyed seeing the transformation his big brother had gone through.
An engagement would also mean the pressure would be off of Anton to settle down. He was suddenly very happy about his brother’s call.
“Any ideas on when the big day will be?” he asked, hoping it wouldn’t conflict with any of his upcoming shows. He would be happiest of all for Duncan if he wouldn’t have to share the spotlight with him. Tabloid fodder was one thing, but Anton was on the cusp of really breaking out in the art world. He didn’t want anything getting in the way of that.
“What, looking forward to seeing Stella in a bridesmaid dress?” teased Duncan. Again, Anton didn’t rise to the bait. “Calm down, I only asked her last night. We’ll take our time. No need to rush it like Leo did.”
The rush of the wedding had pushed back the coronation by nearly a year. And it still hadn’t completely quashed th
e (technically true) rumors that Annabelle’s pregnancy had started before her family had been granted a title. Duncan had made it much easier on himself, falling for someone who was already a noble. Anton made it easier on himself for not falling for anyone.
“How are they doing, by the way?” Duncan asked. “How’s baby Felix?”
“You’ll see them at the coronation,” he answered, before panic suddenly ran through him. “You are coming, right? Helena has been impossible lately.”
“Of course,” Duncan assured him. “Alix is dying to see her. And Stella.”
This was the third time he’d mentioned her name and Anton still remained silent. He had hoped his brother wouldn’t notice.
“I take it things are off rather than on right now with her?” Of course he noticed. Why did everyone want them to be like some fairytale couple blowing kisses at each other?
“It’s fine. I’m working. She knows I need space for my art.”
“Uh huh,” Duncan did not sound convinced. “She won’t put up with that forever. She’s by and far the best girl you’ve ever shagged.”
Anton knew he was probably right, but bit his tongue. No need to give him more fuel for the fire.
After a final congratulations and assurances Duncan would be there soon, they hung up. Anton turned back to his now cold and lifeless lump of clay. He was too riled up to get back to work now. This show was taking him forever to get ready. It was happening a few months after the coronation, and even if his role in that would be minimal, he still wanted to get as much done as possible before then. His parents had been hinting at commissioning something from him as well, as a gift for Leo on his big day.
He ran his fingers through his thick dark hair and sighed. It was getting so long. He usually kept it very short, but when he was working, he ignored everything else. Stella got that. Why didn’t his family?
His phone rang again, and when he saw the name he let out another long, tortured sigh.
“Hey Marcella,” he said politely but without much enthusiasm. The Ventiglio Gallery manager was around his age and they usually got along well. It just bugged him that she liked to check in on him while he was working. Like she didn’t trust him to finish in time.
“A bunch of us are going out to Gilt tonight,” she said. “You’ve been working all week. You need a break.”
He looked around, and knew he wouldn’t get much else done that night. He might as well go out. Marcella’s friends were mostly harmless. Moving around might even help.
“Yeah I guess you’re right. Be there soon.”
Showering was something he usually forgot about, too. He looked down at his rumpled and stained shirt as he made his way back into the main house. He hoped it would be worth all the trouble to go out and he’d get in the right mood again. He wanted to be able to finish at least one thing this week.
This was a bad idea, Anton thought as he sipped his drink an hour later.
Gilt was noisier than he remembered, and Marcella more annoying than usual. This was why he didn’t go out in the middle of working. Everything just pissed him off. Everyone wanted to talk to him about art but that’s the last thing he wanted right now.
Stella understood the space he needed. After those first intense months, and not a peep to the press, he’d known she was someone he could keep around.
She’d naturally been more than a little upset at his disappearing act the first time around. When she realized the only thing he’d been fondling during that time had been clay and paint, she’d relaxed. He explained how inspiring their time together was for him, and she hadn’t let him down finding new ways to stimulate his... creativity. Thinking of their last night together almost a month ago left him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to adjust things without drawing Marcella’s attention. She’d think it was for her. Marcella wasn’t unattractive, but she was no Stella.
Almost as if he’d conjured her with his dirty thoughts, he suddenly spotted her blonde waves and lithe form across the dance floor. God, she was gorgeous. Half the pieces in his studio were based on her lush curves and the sensations she inspired in him. He’d never admitted it to her, but that’s why he needed the breaks. Not just to work. He knew if he let himself, he’d get lost completely in her. And he couldn’t let that happen.
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. Her face broke into one of her wide grins that lit up her entire face. He 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 last night when they’d gotten back to his place.
She looked around his bedroom. The tall windows looked out onto the rooftops of the neighborhood. 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 brok
e into a delighted grin at the thought of the tall and busty gallery owner 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 put of her stomach? Regret?
Her thoughts were interrupted by Anton walking in with a plate of pasties 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.
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