by Jewel Allen
“I was silly this afternoon,” she said in a low voice.
“No,” he murmured. “I was silly for questioning you.”
“I didn’t like to hear the truth.” She bit her lip. “I’ve kind of dangled Lee for a while now when I should have just told him a firm no.”
“I can’t blame him for trying.” He hesitated before reaching out to push a tendril from her face. “I would too.”
She closed her eyes and smiled sweetly, rubbing the side of her face against his hand like a kitten. His breath caught in his throat. He ached to kiss her…
Just as Oscar barged in from the back like a peddler cart with his cleaning tools.
Duke pulled his hand back and let it fall to his side. He and Brooke exchanged smiles, her eyes holding a promise he looked forward to.
After a delicious steak dinner, Duke helped Brooke clean up in the kitchen. She kept bumping him with her hips and smiling that cute little mischievous smile of hers. He splashed her with suds, and she squirted him with the sink hose. By the end of dishwashing, they were both soaked and laughing.
Oscar passed them and rolled his eyes, which only got them laughing all the more.
At eight, there was a knock on the door. Oscar sprang from the couch and ran a hand through his hair nervously.
Brooke pushed him gently toward the door. “You look fine. Go let her in.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brooke smiled to herself as she watched Oscar turn into a cute little nervous wreck around Phoebe. She’d never seen her brother act so awkward in her life.
To her credit, Phoebe’s lemon blueberry cake was a grand success. Oscar had not only two but three helpings.
Phoebe smiled as she watched Oscar demolish his last bite. “Do you like carrot cake? I can make that one too.”
“Are you kidding?” Oscar patted his belly. “It’s my favorite. Next to this.”
Phoebe beamed. “Perfect, then.”
Brooke caught Duke’s eye, and they exchanged happy smiles. Not just for Phoebe and Oscar.
“I brought Phase 10,” Phoebe said, whipping the card game out of her purse. “Do y’all want to play?”
“Sure,” Duke said, moving to sit beside Brooke. Close enough for him to drape his arm around her shoulder.
Brooke was glad they were playing Phase 10. It didn’t require too much concentration, which she was in short supply of for the moment. She tried to figure out what she needed for her hand, but in truth, she was caught up with how Duke’s finger twirled a strand of her hair. A finger from his other hand slid back and forth on her arm.
“Brooke,” Oscar said. “Your turn.”
“Okay,” Brooke said, flustered.
Duke’s mouth curved into a smile.
That mouth. His hand. His hip against hers.
She lost the hand, but she didn’t care.
“Well,” Phoebe said, collecting her card game. “I’ve pestered you long enough. I probably should go.”
Brooke thanked her for coming. She genuinely liked Phoebe and hoped more would develop between her and her brother.
Oscar stood, looking a little lovestruck. The lemon blueberry cake must have done the trick. “Well, now, don’t be a stranger.”
“I think that’ll be up to you, Oscar,” Brooke teased.
“We’ll clean up after dessert while you two say goodbye,” Duke said, engineering their privacy.
Brooke picked up the unused paper plates and forks and headed for the walk-in pantry. Duke followed her in and shut the door. She set the plates on the shelf and turned to him.
“That was brilliant—”
He strode over and pulled her into his arms. Her head whirled as he kissed her hungrily.
“Well, hello,” she said huskily as they took a breath between kisses.
“I’ve been wanting to do that,” he kissed her for emphasis, “all day. Heaven help me, even at church.”
He pressed her against the sturdy shelf and cradled her head with his fingers threaded through her hair. She was vaguely aware of the wood digging against her spine, of his thumb stroking her neck. His kiss felt so right. He gave of himself, and she couldn’t get enough of him.
After several minutes, she pushed against his chest gently. “We should go back. They’re probably worried about us.”
He stole one more kiss. “All right.”
Duke opened the door and motioned for her to step out first. Brooke stopped at the threshold and covered her mouth to keep herself from gasping out loud.
In the living room, Oscar and Phoebe were lost in each other’s eyes as they talked quietly. Brooke’s guilt over abandoning them because of, um, a prolonged pantry detour disappeared. This night was turning out interesting for everyone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Hand me the wrench, please,” Brooke said.
Duke held it up barely beyond her reach. “Only if I get a kiss.”
Brooke raised a brow and gave Duke the stink eye.
He grinned. “Just kidding.”
But it didn’t prevent him from touching her fingers longer than usual as he handed her the tool.
“Thanks for showing me how to do this repair,” Duke said.
“Oscar could have shown you, you know.”
“I know. But you’re cuter than Oscar.”
“I heard that,” Oscar hollered from another boat. “And it’s true.”
“Of course, Phoebe might slightly disagree,” Brooke teased.
“Ah.” Oscar sighed. “Phoebe. Who knew that cake had magic powers?”
“It sure cleared your vision for once. Don’t you think she’s cute?
“I guess,” Oscar admitted. “It’s not like I’m gonna ask her out on a date or nothing. I’m sure she’s busy cooking casseroles for the poor and needy.”
“You’d better not squander your chances. Girls like her won’t wait around forever.”
“We’ll see, okay?” Oscar hid his face in the boat to escape more probing.
Brooke shook her head in exasperation and returned to the task at hand. Except Duke proved a distraction. It was hard to concentrate on the repair with Duke being funny…and charming…audacious…and kissable.
Brooke focused on the nut and bolt.
He hadn’t tried to kiss her that morning. Yet. At the prospect of being alone with Duke, Brooke felt as nervous as a teen on a first date. Thank goodness for Oscar in the other part of the repair shop.
The bell clanged in the customer service bay.
“I’ll get it,” Duke said.
Brooke turned to him in gratitude. She was still tightening a nut, and then there were wires to put back in a particular order. She had to hold the order in her head, and so she didn’t dare budge from her spot.
He flashed her a grin and a cute little wink that had her smiling to herself after he left.
Duke was gone for a long while. Who could he be talking to? She could use help getting her certain tools. When he didn’t come back right away, she went ahead and kept working through the repair, eyeing the door for his reentry.
“Where did Duke go?” Oscar asked.
“I have no idea,” Brooke said in a muffled voice as she reached for a part.
The door clanged open. Brooke heard Duke’s footsteps echoing in the shop, accompanied by another set of footsteps. Another man’s voice. Lee Danson.
She pulled herself out of the boat’s uncovered engine area and stood so she could see over the rail. Duke had a dazed expression.
Brooke’s hackles rose. What had Lee told him? Why did Duke look like he’d seen a ghost?
“Morning, Oscar,” Lee said. “Brooke.” His eyes lingered on her. She detected a satisfied glint in their depths. “We figured out the mystery.”
The mystery.
Brooke turned an anxious glance toward Duke before looking back at Lee. He was being coy, and she just wanted to shake him and say, “Just spill it!”
“Okay,” Oscar said. “Who is he?”
&n
bsp; Lee took out a rolled-up paper from his uniform pocket. “You want to climb out, and I can show you?”
Brooke’s heart pounded as she climbed out of the boat. Duke was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. She hesitated before putting her hand in his, and he helped her down to the floor. Her hand was covered with grease, leaving his dirty as well.
Taking out a rag from her back coverall pocket, she wiped her hand slowly and methodically, trying to keep the suspense from consuming her.
Please, don’t tell me he’s married.
Lee held out the newspaper, and Brooke took it. She raised her eyes to Duke, whose eyes watched her every reaction. She unrolled the paper to the front page of the Madrid Metro Times. A little story to the side announced the tour of the Royal Ruffians. Lead singer: Prince Alvaro Assante of Mondragón, Duke of Abiva.
He was really a duke.
Alvaro was Duke. Duke was Alvaro.
In the photo, he had an attractive woman on either side of him, his arms around their waists.
Normally, the fumes of the boat engines and traces of fuel were comforting smells to Brooke, but right now, they made her feel queasy. Nauseated.
She had expected this all along. Actually, the truth was even worse than she expected.
He was a playboy prince.
Lee was talking to Oscar, but Brooke couldn’t focus on his words. She stared at the wrench in her hand. Her knuckles turned white from gripping it so tightly.
Duke—that is, Alvaro—approached the boat, his eyes huge with concern as his gaze flicked to Brooke. Why should this prince concern himself with her?
“This changes nothing,” he whispered to Brooke.
She took a deep breath before whispering back, “Of course it does.”
“We’ll talk about this in a little bit—”
“Stop.” Brooke glared at him. “You knew this day was coming.”
His hand covered her greasy one. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“We knew this wouldn’t be forever.”
“…his family is coming to get him tomorrow,” Lee was saying. “That was the soonest they could fly over.”
One day.
Brooke tried to not think. To not feel.
“What I want to know,” Oscar drawled, “is if the guy’s married.”
Lee hesitated. What, was he going to lie? “Nope.”
Oscar walked around to Alvaro and clapped him on the shoulder. “A bachelor prince, eh? Who would have thought?”
“Yeah, who would have?” Alvaro flicked a quick glance at Brooke.
“A happy day for us all,” Lee said.
Brooke studied his face for any signs of malice, but he seemed genuinely glad. Besides, shouldn’t she be grateful to know all this now, before she fell harder for Alvaro?
“Have a good one. Oscar. Brooke.” Lee gave a nod and left.
Brooke hefted the wrench in her hand and made her way back to the boat. She could mope, she could cry, or she could simply put her head down and work.
Yes, that’s what she should do.
Apparently, her brother had other plans for them.
“Hey, Brooke,” Oscar said. “Duke, or should I say Alvaro, and I fixed the houseboat, and I gotta test it on the waters. What do you say we all go out and test it on a long run? Maybe go up to Rainbow Bridge?”
“Have fun,” Brooke said, already deep to her elbows with the boat repair. And heartache.
“Come on. It won’t be the same without you. Then I could invite Phoebe.” Oscar drawled out her name.
“You scared of that sweet girl?”
“I’m just rusty with dating; that’s all.”
“I thought you weren’t going to ask her out on a date.” Brooke tightened a bolt. “What about these other repairs?”
“They’ll still be there when we get back.”
“With some irate owners.” She finished the repair and put away the tools.
“Yeah, such an emergency rush the week after school starts.” Oscar appeared over the rail. “Come on. We don’t want to leave you here moping.”
Brooke ignored him.
“Okay, then I’ll take the houseboat. You and Alvaro have fun here. Buh-bye.”
“Oscar Hill,” Brooke said under her breath. She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s the best idea.” She wanted to cry but managed to keep back the tears.
“You need to.” Oscar gave her a mock stern glance. “Let’s go.”
“Oscar…”
Her brother walked over and held her hand. “It’s your last chance to spend time with him.”
She blinked back tears, the emotions warring inside her. She was going to say goodbye to Alvaro anyway, so why not cut things off now?
But then after tomorrow, she may never see him again.
Brooke tossed the wrench back in the toolbox and straddled the side of the boat. Alvaro offered her a hand and she held onto it as she climbed down, wishing she never had to let go.
She was quiet on the truck ride to the marina. A buddy of Oscar’s had already towed the houseboat into a boat slip. Phoebe and Oscar were talking up a storm like old friends, But Alvaro was quiet beside her too.
Brooke needed to break the ice before he left forever. But she couldn’t muster the courage or humility to do it.
At least he wasn’t married. Just had a model a month. Ugh.
Chapter Twenty-Six
He was a prince. The lead singer of a rock band. Holy houseboat.
Not just a prince, but a playboy prince. Alvaro replayed Brooke’s expression in his head. Crestfallen. Hurt. Disgusted.
No wonder she refused to look at or speak to him in the truck. He wanted to say, “That was me then, but not the me now.” Because all he wanted to do was to be with Brooke and to get to know her better. But he knew it would take some doing to convince her.
Alvaro looked at his hands, which had shaken when he heard the day’s bombshell, thanks to the noble Lee Danson. Alvaro had long, lean fingers. Maybe he played the piano or some expensive instrument. He probably lived a high-on-the-hog life in a palace.
Man. He was a prince.
He had money. He could buy a boat if he wanted one. Two boats. Three boats. He could even find the fuel filter and change it out. Burning with curiosity about his family, he thought about googling them but decided against it. There would be time for that later. For now, he was focused on Brooke.
Even as Alvaro was getting the cold treatment from Brooke, Oscar was sure making great headway with Phoebe. The two were lost in their own world, giggling in the front seats. Oscar Hill…giggling. Alvaro wouldn’t have believed it of him.
While he, Prince Alvaro of Mondragón, reputedly worth billions, had lost his girl.
If he ever even had her to begin with. They both knew he was going to leave eventually. He just wished it hadn’t been under these circumstances, with him having to live down a party-animal reputation.
Oscar parked, and they all got out. Brooke walked over with her brother and Phoebe, leaving Alvaro trailing behind them. The houseboat he’d helped Oscar fix waited for them in one of the slips in a covered marina.
“‘Over the Hill.’” Phoebe read the name emblazoned on the side and giggled. ”Like your boat shop.”
Oscar grinned. “Even though she cleaned up pretty nice, she’s kind of a relic.”
“Clever,” Phoebe said, clapping.
The two were a pair, both with big hearts and a zest for life. Alvaro was happy for them.
Once on the houseboat, Oscar took the helm. After checking out the control room, Alvaro made his way to the deck. His step faltered when he saw Brooke leaning against the rail, facing the water and deep in thought.
“You mind if I join you?” he asked.
She glanced over her shoulder briefly and shook her head.
“I thought you’d want to drive the houseboat,” Brooke said.
“I had to give the lovebirds room.”
Brooke winced. “Yeah, they’re kind
of funny, aren’t they?”
“Yeah.” He smiled, but he thought of how he and Brooke could have been—could still be—lovebirds. “Your brother tells me we’re going to Rainbow Bridge. What is it?”
“It’s a tall natural structure made of stone that can fit the U.S. Capitol under it. The Native Americans believe it’s sacred ground. As kids, we used to swim in the water under it. Swimming there is a no-no now.” She paused and glanced at him.
“I thought about looking you up on Google,” she admitted.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
She took a deep breath. “I was scared of what I might find out.”
“I haven’t either.” He paused. ”But I did read the article. For the record, I’m not married.”
“I would hope not,” she retorted. “Not with all those girlfriends.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?”
“Even more than tourists, I’m averse to dating playboys.”
“Touché.” His jaw tightened. “I understand how the truth about me has hurt you. But…” He took a deep breath. “Why are you judging me so harshly on a past I no longer claim?”
“But you’re going back to it tomorrow.”
“Well, yes. I’ll see my family tomorrow.” He gazed at the sky. “I’m surprised about the royalty part. But everything else—the parties, the girls, the music—I don’t feel anything about that. I think I could move on and still be the same man who’s fallen in love with you.”
Her eyes widened.
“It’s true,” Alvaro murmured. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Brooke. And I hope you feel the same way as I do.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. She didn’t pull away.
She cocked her head and said in a low voice, “I think I just need time to think about it. Okay?”
“Sure.” He caressed her skin with his thumb and let her go.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
