Heart Captivated

by Lindsay Bergman

  “I can’t stop thinking about you,” Ashton confessed, reaching out to touch my face. His thumb grazed my tell-tale beauty mark. “You have an angel’s kiss on your cheek. I noticed it that day in the mountains, when you were crying in my arms.”

  “That’s how you were able to tell us apart at the Summer Ball.”

  “Yes,” Ashton murmured, bringing his other hand up to frame my face. “Promise me that you won’t be reckless, or try to ditch your guard. Promise me that you’ll stay safe.”

  “I promise,” I breathed. The deep emotion showing in his eyes staggered me. In that moment, I couldn’t deny him anything.

  “Thank you, Brielle.” Without warning, he bent down to kiss the beauty mark on my cheek. His warm lips lingered, kissing the breath right out of my chest. When his eyes met mine again, they burned. “Goodnight, my captivating Brielle. I hope you sleep well,” he added with a crooked smile. His thumb brushed my beauty mark once more before he released me and stepped back.

  As if I could sleep now, I thought wryly. I could still feel the sensation of his kiss on my cheek. By the smirk that played on his lips, he knew it too. Any dreams I had tonight would undoubtedly feature the handsome prince I was desperately trying to erase from my heart.

  It was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It had all become too much. The pressure to keep my distance. The strain to hold my heart in check. The heartache from wanting what I couldn’t have. Not to mention the embarrassment over what the country thought of my poor American family, or the incessant shadow that followed me every time I sought escape from the confines of the palace—making it impossible for me to find even a small measure of the peace I so desperately needed.

  Ironically enough, the only time I was ever truly alone was in the palace, where Ashton relaxed the strict security protecting us. Everyone was busy this afternoon with some activity or other, so for the first time in days I was truly on my own. After grabbing an acoustic guitar from the music room, I wandered out into the garden, more than happy to make full use of this rare time alone. I found a secluded gazebo draped in dark bougainvillea. Ducking under the overhanging vines, I sat on the wide bench seat and settled the guitar on my lap. Within minutes, my fingers began strumming a favorite song.

  It didn’t take long for me to lose myself in the music. Every emotion poured out from my fingertips and into the strings. I added my voice to the melody, rich and slightly smoky, with the perfect intonation for singing country songs. Upbeat at first, the music eventually flowed soft and melancholy as my thoughts drifted over memories of my mother. A tremor shook my voice during the final verse.

  She should be here. To experience this beautiful Mediterranean paradise. To watch her children grow up and fall in love. To soothe both of her daughters’ broken hearts. Fresh tears left new tracks on my cheeks.

  If she were here, my mother would have known exactly how to heal every hurt. Her arms would have hugged me in a comforting embrace. Her smile would have been warm, like a summer day. Her hazel eyes would have shone with compassion, and endless pools of love.

  She should be here. But she was gone; her life stolen by cancer.

  Sobs ripped from my chest. Sometimes the grief hit without warning—and with brutal force. This time, it was nearly debilitating. The pain had eased over the last year, but it would never completely disappear after losing a parent. With my heart battered down after everything that had happened this week, my emotions were overly vulnerable.

  When strong arms wrapped around me, I didn’t need to hear the sound of his voice murmuring softly in French, or feel the warmth of his kiss on my brow, to know that it was Ashton holding me. I should have expected him. He always seemed to be there whenever I needed him the most; my greatest source of comfort since my mother’s passing. Held close in his arms, my anguish was already beginning to ease.

  I stiffened at the realization. How could I have allowed myself to rely so heavily on him? Since our friendship wouldn’t last beyond the summer, his broad shoulder wouldn’t always be here for me to cry on. I needed to get a hold of myself, and to control the sorrow all on my own—as I’d done every single day for the past year.

  My hands bunched into fists as I tried to force myself out of his arms. “Ashton, we can’t do this. If Sophie sees us—”

  “I’m not leaving you like this,” Ashton argued, tightening his grip. Gathering me even closer, he pressed his cheek to mine and murmured ardently in my ear, “I know I’m supposed to keep my distance, but please don’t ask me to stay away when I can see you’re in pain.” He kissed my forehead and ran a soothing hand down the length of my back, then shifted slightly to look into my face. When his gaze connected with mine, I could see the hurt mirrored in his ocean-blue eyes. “I can’t walk away from you right now, Brielle. Please don’t ask that of me.”

  His concern fractured my resistance. Blinking back tears, I burrowed my face into his neck and clung to him, as I quietly fell to pieces in the circle of his arms. I lost track of how long we sat there, oblivious to everything except Ashton’s comforting embrace.

  When my sobs finally eased, he cradled my face in both hands and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks. “You miss your mom,” Ashton observed. He tenderly kissed the beauty mark beneath my left eye, leaving me dazed and breathless. “That’s the only time you ever allow yourself to feel.”

  “I feel plenty,” I disagreed, carefully extracting myself from his hold—and his kiss, and those piercing blue eyes. Thankfully, Ashton didn’t object when I scooted away to the opposite end of the gazebo and told him, “I just keep it all locked inside.”

  “I know,” he acknowledged ruefully. “I’ve been trying to knock down your walls since I met you.” He quirked an eyebrow and watched my retreat with a knowing smirk.

  Only six feet of wooden bench seat separated us. It might as well have been mere inches by the heat I could feel emanating from his warm look alone. We were isolated in this secluded, romantic patch of the royal garden. It would take only a few steps to recross the small distance I’d put between us. No one but us would ever know if we shared a kiss.

  The longing to return to his arms grew powerfully strong. I twisted my hands around the neck of the guitar in a nervous gesture, feeling the strings rub against my fingers and palms. Bad idea, I scolded myself. Even one kiss would be a mistake.

  Ashton’s gaze flickered to my restless hands, then back up to my face. “You can relax, Brielle,” he drawled. “I’m not going to bite you.” He smoothed out the wrinkles I’d made in his steel gray polo shirt and peeked up at me with a smirk. “Unless you ask me to, ma belle.”

  His laughter flowed out into the surrounding garden as my cheeks burned crimson. I would have fled it he wasn’t blocking the only entrance into the gazebo.

  When his laughter died down, he tucked one hand into the front pocket of his slacks and grinned. “I love it when you blush.” His words made my blush deepen even more. Ashton extended his other hand toward me, palm up. “I’m on my way to meet Alex and Maddy down by the stables. Come with me. I can help take your mind off your troubles.” When I hesitated, he added, “Maddy would be thrilled with your company. She’s going horseback riding this afternoon.”

  As I slipped my hand into his, I told myself that I couldn’t refuse an opportunity to ride one of the fine palace horses. It wasn’t his charming dimple that I’d been unable to resist.

  Ashton’s fingers curled around mine, his pleased smile absolutely radiant. He led me from the gazebo and down the path to our right. As we meandered over to the palace stables, he told me about his busy morning. His days were often filled with government meetings, charity events and time spent welcoming foreign diplomats. Even as the youngest prince, it was his duty to serve his country alongside his family.

  When we reached the barn, Madison emerged with a brilliant smile. “Bree, your timing is perfect. We’re taking the horses out for a ride.” She gave Ashton a ster
n look. “Since you’re so late, Alex went on ahead without you.”

  “I’ll catch up in a minute,” Ashton replied, unconcerned. He smiled in reassurance when I paled, embarrassed that my melt-down had delayed his plans.

  Dressed in a crisp white riding outfit, Arianna appeared in the doorway beside Madison. Her dark hair was twisted into a French braid, with soft wisps curling around her ears. “Would you like to join us, Brielle? I can have a groom saddle a horse for you.” At my tentative nod, she motioned to a nearby groom. After relaying her command, she focused her striking blue eyes on her younger brother, whose hand was still wrapped around mine. One delicate black brow arched. “Ashton, will you be riding with us?”

  He looked down at me, considering. I held my breath for his response, half-hoping he would choose to join us so I could spend more time with him—as futile as that wish was. Because he probably recognized the hope on my face, he squeezed my hand and smiled ruefully. “As much as I’d love to join you ladies, I promised to go skeet-shooting with Alex,” he told his sister.

  I stared at him, surprised by his comment about skeet-shooting. “You like to shoot?” I asked without thinking; the interest in my voice was noticeable.

  The prince examined my face as a smile curved his lips. “Why am I not surprised that you know how to shoot?”

  “Oh, I’ve never gone skeet-shooting before,” I hedged, reluctant to admit that I was more than a fair shot. I’d been shooting targets and game since before I was five. If he knew I was an expert marksman, I was certain it would only add more fuel to the attraction sparking between us.

  “Would you like to come with me for a lesson?” Ashton asked, his warm voice entirely too tempting, and those soul-searching eyes inviting me to say yes. “Alex is a good shot, but not nearly as good as me. I can teach you everything you need to know, and I promise it’ll be fun.”

  It took an iron-will of effort to turn down his offer. “Maybe some other time.”

  Only the persistent Prince Ashton would see my words as a bread crumb of hope. “A raincheck it is,” he grinned, tugging on my hand to bring me closer. Before I could object to his open display, he cupped my jaw and bent to kiss my beauty mark. “Enjoy your ride, bien-aimée.”

  Even through the daze left by his kiss, I didn’t miss the look Madison and Arianna exchanged after the grinning prince had gone. “What was that look for?” I said defensively, failing to hide my blush.

  “Oh, um …” Madison refused to meet my gaze and shifted awkwardly in place. Relief broke across her face when a middle-aged groom brought out her beloved stallion. She climbed up into the saddle and took hold of the reins. “Let’s get moving,” she said, before urging her horse into a trot and dashing away without giving me an answer.

  I frowned at her receding form, feeling uneasy. Why was she being so evasive?

  “It’s not what you think,” Arianna said softly, moving to stand at my side as we watched Madison’s quick retreat. “We were just surprised.”

  “Because Ashton has feelings for a cowgirl like me?” I swallowed dryly, almost afraid to hear her answer. I hadn’t spoken very much with the glamorous princess of Coradova and found that I was oddly concerned about her opinion of me. It wasn’t as if I had any intention of pursuing a relationship with her brother, but if I did, I would have liked to have her approval. “You don’t have to worry,” I told her. “There’s nothing going on between us.”

  “It’s not that, Brielle. We were surprised by his endearment for you.” Arianna paused, weighing her words carefully. “Do you know what bien-aimée means?”

  I shook my head, suddenly curious.

  Arianna looked torn. “I swore to stay out of this,” she muttered, “but I just can’t help myself.” She surveyed the palace staff nearby, before stepping close and out of their hearing range. She reached out to touch my arm, her face softening. “Ashton is obviously falling for you, and harder than I’ve seen him fall before. I know you’re hesitant because your sister has feelings for him, too. But if you care for him at all, please consider giving him a chance.”

  “Wait,” I called out when she stepped back. “What does bien-aimée mean?”

  Arianna chewed on her lower lip, her eyes darting around us once more. “Since I know you can just look up the translation, I’ll tell you. He called you his beloved.” Her expression deepened with emotion, matching the tenderness that had lit up within my chest. “It’s not an endearment we use lightly. So please, Brielle,” she pleaded, “don’t break his heart.” Pivoting on her booted heel, she climbed up onto her waiting horse and left me standing in stunned silence.

  When we returned from a slightly awkward ride out to the cliffs, I drew up alongside Madison, hoping to sweep away the egg shells we’d been tiptoeing around. “Maddy, do you still ride bareback?” I asked as a tendril of mischief unfurled through me.

  “Sometimes—when Alex is out of the palace.” She peered over at me, her eager smile matching mine. “Why? What are you thinking?”

  My grin widened, recognizing the acceptance of challenge in her eyes. Madison had been a bit reckless as a teenager. Before my mom’s death, we’d gotten into plenty of trouble together. “Wanna take a ride on the wild side?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “Always.”

  We stopped our horses in an outer pasture, away from the prying eyes of the palace staff. I knew our activity wouldn’t go unnoticed for long, but hoped we’d have enough time to ride before someone tattled on us.

  As we worked on unstrapping the saddles, Arianna cantered up to us and warned, “Maddy, you know Alex won’t like this.”

  “Come on, Ari,” Madison argued, turning pleading brown eyes on the princess. “I need this tiny bit of rebellion before I go insane trying to meet the constant high expectations.”

  “You’re married to the Crown Prince of Coradova. High expectations will always come with that title.” Arianna sighed and gave her friend a sympathetic look. “Make it quick. And when Alex finds out, I was never here. I don’t want to listen to his lecture again about keeping you safe.”

  It sounded like there was a story behind her words.

  “Did you do something to earn a lecture recently?” I quirked an eyebrow as I removed my mare’s saddle.

  Arianna actually blushed. “I convinced Maddy to take a joy ride down the coast without our guards—and Alex sort of flipped out when we got back.”

  “He has reason to be overprotective,” Madison defended her husband, draping her horse’s saddle over the top rail of the paddock. “I’m lucky he even lets me out of his sight after the kidnapping last summer.” She rubbed her hands together excitedly. “Let’s do this.”

  Leading my horse close to the fence, I scampered up to the top rail and slipped effortlessly onto her chestnut back. “Easy as huckleberry pie,” I said, grinning at Madison seated bareback on her buckskin stallion, Spirit.

  Arianna watched us warily from outside the paddock.

  “Do you want to give it a try?” I asked her.

  She fervently shook her head. “No, thanks. I don’t have any desire to break my royal neck.” Arianna stepped up onto the lowest rung of the railing and draped her arms over the top to get a better view. Her smile grew mischievous. “Put on a good show, cowgirls.”

  With matching grins, we took off at a gallop. The force of our sprint loosened the band in my hair. A moment later, it slipped off entirely as auburn strands flew wild and free around my face, but I didn’t mind. I laughed in delight at the rush of freedom, and urged my mare to go even faster, her hoofbeats pounding out in rhythm to my heartbeat.

  We raced several laps around the paddock before I slowed and sent Madison a daring remark. “Do you remember what we spent an entire summer practicing?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes clouded with uncertainty. “It’s been a while though.”

  “Yeah, I’ll bet.” After chucking off my boots and socks, I directed the mare toward the open pasture and called out over my shoulder, “Better no
t risk it, Maddy. I don’t want the crown prince to kill me because you got hurt.”

  When I was ready, I shifted around until I had my knees and then my bare feet under me, and stood, balancing perfectly on the back of my unmoving horse. Still holding the reigns in my hand, I urged her into a walk. It was one of the most exhilarating feelings—almost like flying. I’d taken quite a few spills that one summer before learning how to balance properly. Once I’d gotten the hang of it, riding bareback had become one of my greatest escapes.

  I heard a laugh behind me and glanced over to see Madison standing upright on the back of Spirit, a proud grin lighting up her face. I circled over to her spot alongside the fence before lowering back to sitting. The moment we were both seated again, beside a suspiciously absent Arianna, I heard Madison’s name shouted across the pasture, thick with alarm.

  Madison cringed and swiveled on her horse to meet the burning blue glare of her husband.

  Simultaneously panicked and furious, Alexander stormed across the pasture to sweep her off the stallion and into his arms. “What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded hoarsely. “You could have broken your neck!” He loosened his grip enough to look down into her face, his eyes roving over her for injury, before he crushed her against him and kissed her apologies away.

  Ashton stood behind them, his eyes glued to me, and a wide smile plastered across his handsome face. “That was one of the best things I’ve ever seen,” he said, awestruck. The pride that warmed his voice made me blush. He strode past his embracing brother and sister-in-law, and reached up to pluck me down from my horse.

  The wind whipped my hair out between us. He caught one of the long strands between his fingers. “Look at your hair,” he murmured, like a man transfixed. “C’est magnifique. Like fire.” He ran his fingers through my tumble of hair, then looked up to meet my eyes. His gaze was smoldering. With his hand still tangled in my hair, he held me close to him and said, “You are amazing, Brielle. Beautiful and utterly amazing, bien-aimée.”