The Crown Prince's Bride

by Donna Alward

  “Fair enough.”

  He tried to smile. “Besides, this is Diego and Rose’s day. The focus should be on them.”

  At that moment Brody came up to them, a sleepy Alyssa in his arms. “I thought I might put her down for a while, up in our room.” He kissed Lucy on the forehead. “I know you have family obligations, so I’ll come back down after she’s fed and changed.”

  Lucy peeked into the baby’s sleeping face and her features softened. “I’ll come with you. I can sneak away for twenty minutes or so.”

  Raoul nodded at Brody, then watched as his sister and her husband walked toward the stairs and the family wing that housed their suite. They passed Stephani and Sofia on their way. Steph looked over at him and smiled, and he smiled back, though his heart wasn’t in it.

  Attraction was inconvenient, but it would pass eventually. He figured the only reason he felt it at all was because Stephani was both beautiful and familiar. He saw her nearly every day, and she was . . . safe. She knew him well. Understood his moods. He didn’t need to try to impress her or be someone he wasn’t.

  Well, except for hiding this awkward fascination that came over him from time to time.

  She caught up with him five minutes later, and touched his arm.

  “Are you all right? You’ve been standing over here frowning for half an hour.”

  His arm tingled where her fingers rested on his tuxedo jacket. For heaven’s sake. There was no reason for him to react so strongly to her.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. You look annoyed. Did something happen? Is something not going well? I can address it.”

  “Everything’s perfect.”

  She blinked and remained silent. He realized his voice had been rather sharp and he added regret to the other emotions running through him. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m sorry.”

  Her voice was cool. “It’s fine. As long as the event is running as it should. If there are any issues, let me or Sofia know. With me pulling double duty, she’s taken over my list.”

  She turned to walk away.

  “Steph?”

  His heart thudded behind his ribs. Was he actually nervous about talking to her? This was so ridiculous!

  “Yes, Your Highness?”

  “Oh dear. I really did make you mad.” Ironically, her snooty tone made him relax slightly. Perhaps because her irritation was a genuine emotion. No hiding or dancing around.

  Her lips twitched a little. “You’re grouchy.”

  She had no idea, and he was glad. He would be incredibly embarrassed if she knew how he was reacting to the sight of her in that dress, with Ceci’s sapphires at her throat and mile-high shoes cradling her feet.

  She trusted him. His thoughts definitely betrayed that trust. He’d already made a mistake once and kissed her. To do it again could—probably would—make it impossible for them to maintain their working relationship. And he needed her.

  “I am, a little. But I’ll try hard to be happier.” He sent her a false smile, and made her laugh.

  “We’re seated together, you know. At the banquet.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “That means you won’t have to make conversation with Rose’s horrid sister.” As Maid of Honor, Hayley would have been next to Raoul. Now that Steph had stepped in, she would be seated to his left.

  He looked down at her, leaning so close, close enough that he could smell the light, sexy scent of her perfume. “It’s always lovely to have you as a dinner partner,” he said softly. “And you can slide me your pâté, since I know you don’t like it.”

  “You know me so well,” she teased.

  “I’ve known you a long time.”

  “Nearly ten years,” she replied, looking up into his eyes.

  He swallowed. Held her gaze. Realized no one on earth—not even his brother or father—knew him as well as Stephani did. She knew his likes and dislikes. His moods and how to cajole him out of them. His routine and schedules. All the things that Ceci had once known as easily as breathing.

  “You’re disappearing again,” she cautioned quietly. “Are you really okay?”

  “I am. I promise.” And he was. The truth was, Ceci was gone, and he remained. The truth was, he was a man in his thirties who was attracted to a woman, and a relationship with that woman would be fraught with complications. But Diego’s counsel this morning had started a chain reaction of thoughts that he couldn’t seem to control. The reasons why he should walk away from his impulses were the very reasons why he was attracted to Steph in the first place.

  And there were times he really just didn’t want to walk away. Why did everything seem to come with a truckload of ramifications and consequences?

  “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you soon. Save me a dance later?”

  Dancing. Raoul’s body tightened at the thought of holding her close in his arms, but he merely smiled. “Of course. As best man and maid of honor, it’s expected.”

  Her smile was bright and her eyes lit up, then she turned and walked away, heading toward the bride and groom. Raoul watched the subtle sway to her hips, lifted his glass to his lips and then realized it was empty.

  Positively fraught with complications. He handled dealings with governments all over Europe, but he had no idea how to handle this.

  * * *

  He’d been watching her all night.

  Stephani couldn’t stop the fizz of awareness that skittered across her skin. First it had been at dinner, over toasts to the bride and groom and then the delicious meal. His fingers had brushed hers accidentally when he slid his dessert over to her, simply because he knew she had a sweet tooth and the dark chocolate ganache was a particular favorite. Once, he’d leaned back to ask a passing waiter for more wine, and put his arm along the back of her chair, the material brushing against her exposed skin.

  More than once, as she’d tried to eat, she’d felt his gaze on her, and it had taken all her fortitude not to look back at him. It didn’t matter, anyway. She didn’t need to look at him to feel the energy running between them, around them. Why now? Why on earth had Hayley pulled this immature trick, throwing them together? Why did she hate it and love it at the same time?

  When the dinner was finally over, Imogene appeared with Max and Emilia. “The children wanted to say good night, sir.”

  “Of course.” Raoul turned in his seat. “Max, you have chocolate around your mouth.”

  Max’s tongue swiped around his lips, but it was no good. The chocolate was there to stay until a washcloth could clean up the mess. “Dessert was good,” he said.

  “I know.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Stephani had two.”

  Max looked at her with something like hero worship in his eyes, and she laughed. “I confess. I did have two, because I love chocolate.”

  Emilia hung back a bit, but she did look at Stephani with a smile. “Your necklace is very pretty.”

  A little pang went through Stephani’s heart. “Your mother gave it to me. It’s very special.”

  Emilia touched the little strand of pearls around her own neck. “These were hers, too.”

  “She would be very proud of you two today. You were wonderful during the wedding.”

  The compliment didn’t impress Max as much as the chocolate confession, but Emilia’s eyes glowed.

  “Come, give me a hug before Imogene takes you up to bed.” Emilia came forward and Steph gave her a squeeze. How they must miss their mother. No cousin or nanny or aunt could make up for it, though they all tried.

  “You too, Max. I need a hug before you disappear.” When the little boy put his arms around her neck, she whispered in his ear, “I’ll have Señora Ortiz put aside a spare dessert for your tea tomorrow.”

  Raoul looked over at her as the children prepared to leave. “I’m going to go up with them for a few minutes. I’ll be back, though.” His dark gaze held hers. “To claim the dance you owe me.”

  And boom. The butterflies in her stomach returned in full for
ce.

  She spent the next forty-five minutes checking in with Sofia, but the day was winding down and the list of things to do was dwindling. There was dancing to come, and more food, and Marco was on standby to whisk Diego and Rose to the airport, where they’d take a private jet to a resort on the Spanish coast for a few days of privacy before heading to Tanzania.

  She managed to spend a few moments with Rose’s family, as well. They were a little wide-eyed at their surroundings, not to mention the guest list, but Stephani found them charming, with the exception of Hayley. Hayley had arrived just before the meal, in time to sit with her parents and brother and sister-in-law. Her eyes shot little daggers at Stephani from time to time; after all, Steph was wearing what was meant to be Hayley’s dress, and sitting with the crown prince. Now that the dinner was concluded, she told anyone near that she was sure she’d picked up some sort of food poisoning at the hotel and thank goodness she was feeling much better now so she could be there for her sister’s big day. It was a big load of manure, as far as Stephani was concerned, but Rose shook her head and gave Steph a smile. A few minutes later she was at Steph’s side and giving her a hug. “Thank you for everything you did today.”

  “It was my pleasure. Truly.”

  “I should have asked you in the first place. But sisters . . .”

  “Are family.” Steph smiled. “I get it.”

  “Hayley’s all right. Most of the time. She’s resentful about how things turned out, is all, and I’m not sure she’ll ever learn how to be happy.”

  “Well, I think you learned. You’re beaming.”

  Rose laughed. “I am, aren’t I? I can feel it. I’m so happy.”

  Diego came up and slid his arms around her waist. “There’s my beautiful bride.”

  They did make a rather stunning couple, and their happiness shone for everyone to see.

  And Stephani was still going back and forth in her mind, knowing she had to leave Marazur and let Raoul go, but craving his presence like he was an addiction.

  When the dancing started, the lights dimmed and Diego took Rose in his arms for a romantic slow dance. Raoul still wasn’t back, but Steph stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched what fulfillment looked like. Diego and Rose never took their eyes from each other. Once, Diego said something and Rose laughed, and Stephani saw his hand tighten at her waist. She didn’t realize her own arm was half wrapped around her middle until Raoul came up behind her and put his arm over hers, so that they were in a very loose back-to-chest embrace.

  “Sorry I took so long,” he apologized, but Steph couldn’t think. She simply froze at the intimacy of the contact. If she leaned back by only two inches, she’d be cradled against him. Even this much was incredibly familiar, particularly in public.

  Thankfully—or not so much—he slid his arm away and came to stand beside her.

  “The children got to bed okay?” she asked, suddenly unsure of what to say. It was strange. Normally they were never at a loss of things to talk about.

  “Max might pay the price for all that sugar,” Raoul said, “but otherwise, yes. They’ve had an exciting day.”

  Again, an awkward silence fell between them, the quiet saved only by the music playing.

  When the next song began, Raoul held out his hand. “Shall we?”

  “Of course.”

  Being ensconced in his arms was heaven. He still wore his tuxedo jacket, and she marveled how he could still look perfect, with not a hair out of place, when she’d already freshened up twice during the day and felt as if her hair were coming out of its pins and if her lip stain wasn’t as long-lasting as she hoped. She forgot about most of that, though, when Raoul reached up and tucked a very small piece of hair behind her ear and smiled. “Let’s show them how it’s done,” he said, then smiled. And she was a goner.

  Smooth, sexy, and confident. That’s how she’d describe Raoul as a dancer. He navigated the floor with the same surety that he worked a boardroom, and took her with him. One hand was warm on the hollow of her back, just above her tailbone, while his other hand clasped hers firmly. Their bodies brushed rather than clung, each graze lighting little flickers of desire until her whole being was attuned to his.

  His dark gaze captured hers, and she couldn’t look away.

  She bit down on her lip, and his gaze dropped momentarily to her mouth, then back up again. Her lips tingled; it almost felt as if he’d kissed her.

  The song was nearing its close, and as he navigated them in a turn, her breasts brushed against his jacket. When had they gotten so close? Why was her heart beating so fast? What were they going to do?

  She didn’t realize she’d voiced that question out loud until he answered it. “I don’t know,” he said roughly, his eyes never leaving hers. “I don’t know.”

  With that simple question and answer, Stephani realized they were both on the same page. All the times that he’d said he wasn’t interested, that he’d never marry again, that she was “family”—they all faded to the back of her mind. In this moment, they were touching in at least five points of contact, and admitting that there was an attraction they could neither prevent nor control.

  The song ended and he released her, taking a half step back. Nothing would happen now. Not here, not in public. And maybe in an hour or two this crazy feeling would wane and they’d come to their senses. She knew that would be the right thing, but the need for him was overpowering.

  Diego came up to them, wearing a big smile. “Rose wondered if you’d each dance with the other member of the wedding party during the next song. You don’t mind dancing with her brother, do you, Steph?”

  “Of course not.” She forced herself to smile brightly. “I’d love to.”

  They went their separate ways, but somehow they always found each other across the floor. She danced a faster song with Rose’s brother, Devon, while Raoul danced with Becca. Then they lost each other momentarily as she danced with Rose’s father and then with Diego, and Raoul danced not only with Rose’s mother, who blushed furiously, but also took Hayley on a turn around the floor, who Steph took as trying to be unimpressed but unable to hide her secret triumph in her smug expression.

  Then there were guests, and duty once again reared its head as she made the rounds so no one would feel slighted. She danced with their finance minister and then paired him off with a visiting dignitary from Andorra. Finally, near midnight, she made her way outside the ballroom to the terrace. A handful of people were out in the fresh air, and she slid off to a corner to catch her breath and make sense of everything.

  The air was perfumed with the heady scent of flowers from the gardens, mingled with the freshness from the nearby Mediterranean. Stars had popped out in the inky sky, and she focused on a particularly bright one, wondering if it was a planet and not really a star at all. Wondering where she’d end up next, and what the view would be like. If there’d be a terrace like this one, or a high-rise with a view of the skyline.

  Either way, there would be no Raoul, would there?

  “It’s a beautiful night,” came a deep voice behind her.

  The sound shivered over her nerve endings as a sense of inevitability enveloped her. She’d slipped away; he was out here because he’d sought her out. Wasn’t that what she wanted? Memories of kissing him last year in the alcove came rushing back. Up until six months ago, she’d managed to keep her feelings locked down, but once the door had been opened, she’d found she couldn’t go back to before. Everything had changed.

  She wanted it all, and was afraid to even step forward into the remotest possibility of having it. As much as it was going to hurt to leave, it would hurt worse to fall deeper into love and then have to go, wouldn’t it?

  “You’re shivering,” he observed, and took off his jacket. He put it over her shoulders and she grabbed the lapels, holding it close. It was warm from dancing, and his scent rose from the fabric, swamping her senses.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. She turned around and fac
ed him, his features illuminated by the lights coming through the ballroom windows. “Why did you come out here?”

  She half hoped he’d say he wanted to get some air and saw her as a pure coincidence. The other half of her hoped he’d come out to find her.

  “To find you,” he answered.

  Oh. Oh.

  The doors to the terrace creaked, and then closed. Whoever had been out here before had gone back inside and closed the doors behind them. The laughter and music were muffled now, and instead Stephani could also hear the soft sound of the breeze and the mesmerizing shush of the water in the garden fountain.

  “I asked a question earlier and you said you didn’t know. Maybe I should ask it again.” She lifted her chin, scared to death, yet filled with rich anticipation. “What are we doing, Raoul?”

  “I don’t know.” His voice was hoarse. “I shouldn’t be out here. I shouldn’t have held you so close when we were dancing, or looked into your eyes. I shouldn’t have kissed you at my birthday last year. I shouldn’t want to kiss you right now, but I do.”

  She could barely breathe. “Why shouldn’t you?” She wanted him to say it. To either put an end to the madness or surrender to it.

  “Because you’re my assistant. Because you’re Ceci’s cousin. Because I’m not over her.”

  That was it, wasn’t it? Steph was almost ready to back away when he finished, “And because I want you so much I can’t think straight.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dios mío.

  Heat rushed up her body into her face and she clutched the jacket lapels tighter. She’d known Raoul for a decade, maybe a bit longer. Her fascination with his title and status had long faded until she saw only the man and not the monarchy. But just now, hearing him say those words, she was momentarily struck by the fact that a prince—the crown prince, no less—had just admitted that he wanted her.

  That he desired her.

  That he was so clouded by it he couldn’t think straight.

  Impossible. Only . . . it wasn’t. Because he wasn’t some two-dimensional Prince Charming. He was Raoul Navarro. Her boss and her—dare she say it—best friend, now that Ceci was gone. They worked together. They’d mourned together. And right now he was touching her face with gentle fingers while her eyelids fluttered closed.