FRACTURE: Hearts of Stone Book Six

by Woodward, Kaya

  When Noah was born, I knew instantly that he would always be my pride and joy; I had not known or understood love like this before then.

  I still feel that way.

  When I enter the room and close the door behind me, Noah is attempting to adjust his tie unsuccessfully.

  “Well now, you can’t be nervous, you’ve been waiting to marry this woman for how many years now?” I ask.

  Noah whirls around at the unfamiliar voice.

  “How did you get here?” he asks, bewildered.

  A secret wedding, on a mysterious island, at a secret place and time, with no one but their closest and dearest.

  Of course, it was the only option for my son before the large, lavish Royal Wedding to take place in New York City in a few months, sometime in May I’ve been told. Then, of course, there will be the coronation a few weeks after, though I’m sure Noah has more plans to escape before then.

  “I am a Stone, after all, my son,” I tell him, “Now let me help you with that, you’re a mess,” I say.

  “I’m not a mess,” Noah says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye of some sort.

  “You’re angry with me, for hiding from you all these years, I suppose?” I ask.

  “No,” Noah shakes his head.

  “I would’ve done the same to protect my own,” he admits, “At first I was angry with you. Angry for not letting me in on the family secrets, angry with you for keeping me for Tinsley, but you took everything away that you had it, and gave me everything I needed when it was warranted. You did the best a mother could’ve done under the situation you were in, I can’t hate you or be angry with that,” Noah’s speech is quite solemn, every word true.

  The hot-headed teenager I remember has grown into a calm, collect man of his word.

  “I don’t suppose we should hug,” I say.

  “Rather not,” my son admits me to me.

  I wrap my boy, now a man, up in my arms anyway, hugging him tightly for all those years I had to spent apart from him.

  It’s impossible to forget the day Noah was born, his first cries, the first time they laid him on my chest.

  Those little coos and baby sounds brought me to tears, and I knew my life was changed forever, that nothing would stop me from protecting that baby, that I would go to the ends of the earth and back for him.

  And I have.

  “I love you, Noah. Always remember that. Love your son, the way I have loved you, and no matter what he does, or how he disappoints you or fails, you will never disappoint him as a Father,” my advice is sound.

  I can feel tears prick my eyes, and I dab them away carefully with a handkerchief so as not to ruin my makeup.

  Noah gives me a curt nod, emotional, but unwilling to show any emotion as Evan walks into the room.

  “Oh,” Evan gasps.

  “I’m sorry, I’ll wait outside,” he says, then nods to his father and myself.

  “Wait, Evan,” Noah says.

  Evan stands by the door with a serious look on his face, and Noah laughs lightly.

  “Don’t you want to say hello to your grandmother?” Noah asks.

  “Granny,” Evan says with a devious smile.

  I give him a light laugh in return, then a serious look.

  “Sorry, Elena,” Evan corrects himself immediately.

  I send a conspiratorial smile my son’s way, and Noah begins to laugh, breaking the ice, and Evan laughs with us.

  My son is happy. That’s all that matters to me now, RISC be damned.

  “Dad, Tinsley has a note for you,” Evan says, passing the card to his father.

  * * *

  Athena, Ava, Corban, Evan, Leigha, Levi and Victoire, and of course all the children as well as Lucius, Aidan, and Magda are the only ones present.

  Magda was my most precious gift to my son, through the Darlington’s of course, paid handsomely by my hand. Magda was an MI6 operative long before she left the intelligence game to have a family. Their lives were cut short by an old MI6 antagonist, and Magda returned to MI6, only to allowed to watch over Noah, for me.

  Tinsley and Noah’s loved ones have formed a half circle in the sand, Noah and the officiant in the center. Everyone is wearing white, even the children. Ava and Corban are holding their twins, Victoire is holding Ethan and Sebastian in Levi’s arms.

  Tinsley walks towards them as Frank Sinatra croons in the background.

  A slow, dramatic entrance for the bride as layers of tulle and lace follow behind in a sweeping train. The lace dress accentuates her curves while her long, naturally flowing hair shows off her lovely face.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the presence of these witnesses, to celebrate the marriage of Tinsley Whittaker and Noah Stone. To be joined together in matrimony is to be joined together as one, committing your lives to one another. Through the good times, and the bad, through sickness, and in health, until death do you part,” the officiant begins.

  “The couple has elected to write their vows, Tinsley, will you begin?” she continues.

  Tinsley doesn’t need a piece of paper.

  “Noah, I’ve thought about this moment a thousand times and all that I can tell you, today, is that a thousand years, or a thousand lifetimes, wouldn’t be enough with you. Noah, my soul mate, I promise to weather the storms with you as we always have, be the support you need, as we always have, and love you as I always have. Only now, I promise to do so as your wife, forever,” Tinsley’s voice begins to break near the end.

  Noah wipes a tear from her eye, an adoring smile on his face.

  “Tinsley, I will always love you, I’ve always loved you, and my world wouldn’t be the same if you hadn’t swept me away with that love all those years ago. Darling, I can’t promise I will be a perfect husband, but I can promise I will be the man you’ve always needed me to be. It is my greatest honor to, finally, be able to call myself, your husband,” Noah’s vows are sincere.

  They exchange rings, and the officiant pronounces them husband and wife.

  “You may now, finally, kiss the bride,” she says with a smile.

  Noah and Tinsley’s kiss goes on forever as their family cheers around them.

  “Captain, you may pull anchor,” I say into my walkie-talkie.

  “It’s time to go.”

  A New Beginning

  Athena

  Tinsley and Noah’s over-the-top ceremony and reception are nothing short of spectacular, and sure to be talked about for years to come. I’m not surprised my brother allowed Tinsley to pull out all the stops (since it was on the Stone dime and not that of the Royal Family). The grand reception hall has been turned into a lush Garden of Eden, with hues of purple and pink, greenery everywhere, even trees brought in for the occasion!

  My brother spared absolutely no expense, and I am ecstatic that they are both, finally, after all these years, married. I’m brought back to the first time I caught Noah and Tinsley in a compromising situation, and how I told him, he’d better leave that girl alone. It almost makes me laugh, thinking about how that was an empty threat.

  At the time, I didn’t want to see Tinsley hurt by my brother, really, but that was all for naught.

  Now that the night is winding down, the speeches are finished, and the cake has been cut, watching Tinsley, dazzling in that gorgeous to die for Galia Lahav dress, and my brother, in a black tuxedo, sway together on the dancefloor makes me slightly melancholy.

  “I thought I’d find you here, Duchess,” Aidan whispers in my ear, leaning over the gold chivari chair that I sit in.

  “Aidan,” I say his name, and I can’t stop the smile and creeps across my face, into my cheeks. Nor can I prevent the blush on my face.

  “I thought I might find you alone, brooding,” Aidan suggests.

  He sets two flutes of champagne down as he takes the seat across from me.

  I pick up the champagne and take a sip, even if I’ve already had a little bit too much.

  It’s unlike me to drink so muc
h, but this is my brother’s Royal wedding, and somehow that makes me a Duchess, a real Stone Duchess requiring real security at all times, at least for a while.

  Then again, if I have Aidan, I’ll never have to worry.

  “Here, give me your foot, your feet must be killing you in those heels,” Aidan tells me.

  I gladly place one foot on his lap as he instructs, and he removes my shoe.

  Before, this would’ve been to my absolute horror, but with the night winding down most of the prominent guests have left. Ava and Victoire are running around, barefoot, after the children; even Leigha has taken her shoes off.

  I find that I don’t quite care about propriety anymore, even if the public scrutiny is going to be as intense as ever.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” Aidan says. He begins to massage my feet after taking off my other shoe. “Just you and me. We’ll escape before anyone can find us,” he continues.

  “What?” I ask, taken slightly aback.

  According to Noah, he has several things planned to keep me busy for the next few weeks, but the idea appeals so much!

  Just Aidan and I?

  No distractions?

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to escape somewhere without someone looking over our shoulder? Constantly asking where Noah is?” Aidan asks.

  That’s when I have that dark thought, that maybe he’s just using me to get what he wants. I’ve been used before. I’ve got a string of god-awful ex-boyfriends and a smarmy ex-fiancé that’s currently engaged to a member of the Danish Royal Family. There’s an honest thought in the back of my head that I am the reason I’m single at thirty-one.

  “Hey,” Aidan says sharply, catching my attention, “I know where you’re going in that head of yours Athena, don’t go there. I’m asking you to run away with me because I want to be with you. Do you honestly think I would ask just any woman that?” Aidan asks, one eyebrow raised.

  My heart melts all at once because Aidan knows precisely when I’m getting too much inside my head, and he’s here, and he genuinely wants me, despite all my flaws (and there are many).

  “Ask me to dance,” I tell Aidan.

  “We’ve never danced before, and I’m a terrible dancer,” Aidan replies with a little smirk.

  “Ask me, to dance,” I repeat.

  “Athena Stone, will you dance with me?” Aidan asks sincerely.

  “Yes,” I tell him in earnest.

  Aidan leads me, shoeless, towards the dance floor, twirling me into his arms as we reach the white dancefloor.

  “T & N” are written in a fancy gold script across the dance floor, Aidan, and I stop just short of the “N” in the center.

  “Maybe you can dance?” I suggest delightfully surprised.

  “I remember a thing or two from my first wedding,” Aidan admits.

  Then he pulls me close to him with a hand on my waist as the other hand clasps mine.

  “You know,” Aidan begins, “We never did finish where we left off, you and I,” he explains.

  I remember that well, quite well, and it reminds that not only did I enjoy my time globetrotting, running around the world looking for my brother with Aidan, but it reminds me that is what I want.

  One particular night in Venice, the sexual tension boiled over after one too many glasses of grappa, and we found ourselves in quite a compromising position, in a back alleyway no less. Compromising, that is, until Aidan had to roar in frustration because Olivia’s men had found us, and we had to get away.

  Now Olivia is gone.

  Duke Geoffrey Whittaker is gone.

  Everyone is otherwise occupied.

  Aidan and I find a steady rhythm together easily as he leads me around the dance floor. He spins me right into his arms, and his lips find mine.

  Just as I recall his rough kiss is exactly what it’s meant to be: passionate, unyielding, and demanding. Our tongues touch and I wrap my arms around his neck and damn whoever decides that we are entertaining enough to watch.

  When we pull away from each other, hesitantly, I see a burning desire in the green hue of Aidan’s iris, and I am aware that I couldn’t possibly say no to this man.

  I run my tongue across my upper lip as Aidan looks deeply into my eyes.

  “So, Duchess, what’s the plan?” Aidan asks, hopeful.

  “I’m not convinced,” I feign disinterest with a coy smile.

  “Well,” Aidan whispers in my ear, “I swear to do everything I had planned for you in Venice, and then some. My last tiny little bit of propriety is the only thing stopping me from ripping that dress off you, this very instant, in front of all these people and God Himself,” he whispers.

  Every deliberate word sends a chill down my spine.

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep Mr. Wilde,” I tease.

  “My dear, Duchess, that is not my style, and you know it,” Aidan responds, a darkly serious look behind that devilish smirk. It’s as though he most certainly would readily devour me on the dancefloor, in front of all these people. And, God Himself.

  I give him my best come-hither look, and a teasing smile.

  “Then, Mr. Wilde,” I begin, my finger on his lip, “Do your worst.”

  He takes my hand, and whisks me away from the party, to the airfield.

  We escape from New York in Noah’s private jet.

  I hope they don’t mind.

  The Hearts of Stone Series

  Book 1: Torrid

  Book 2: Exposure

  Book 3: Denial

  Book 4: Heat

  Book 5: Secret

  Book 6: Fracture

  To all my readers:

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