The Crown Prince's Bride Read online

  Hayley merely shrugged. “So you and the crown prince . . . how long have you been having it off, then?”

  “Having it off?” Stephani frowned, puckering her brows together. But then Hayley raised one eyebrow with a knowing glint in her eye and Stephani resisted the urge to sigh at the girl’s crassness.

  “His Highness,” she emphasized firmly, “is my boss. And he was also married to my cousin. I’m fortunate to have a close relationship with the entire family, which of course does not include ‘having it off’ with him.” She wasn’t generally up on Brit slang, but the meaning had been made plain enough.

  Hayley laughed. “No need to get so defensive. It’s clear to anyone who cares to look.” She tossed back whatever was in her glass.

  “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I do hope you enjoy the palace’s hospitality while you’re here. If you’ll excuse me, I have a few more details to attend to before tomorrow’s event.”

  She maintained her pleasant smile; after all, she’d spent many years working in a delicately handled world of diplomacy. This one, though, had been unexpected and personal. It was inaccurate but not entirely incorrect. Tonight, the look on Raoul’s face when she’d shown up in her dress had been utterly gratifying. He’d been tongue-tied for a few moments. And when he’d offered his arm, she had felt ridiculously like they were a couple. His equal, in everything except perhaps official titles.

  She belonged here. And that was what bothered Hayley, wasn’t it? Thinking of it that way, Stephani was able to put her feelings aside. She knew what it was like to be on the outside looking in.

  Lucy returned with the baby on her arm, and everyone ooohed and aahed appropriately. Still, it wasn’t long before Rose and Hayley disappeared with the other bridesmaid, Becca, heading to the hotel. Diego and Brody made a late-night trip to the stables, probably to look over the latest additions to the polo stock and Imogene gathered the children and saw them to the nursery suite. Lucy took her jetlagged self off to bed, and as the staff cleaned up, it left just Raoul and Stephani.

  “Nightcap?” he suggested. “Or do you have to leave, too?”

  She didn’t. She’d brought everything she needed for the wedding day and had requested one of the smaller rooms so that she could be up and on duty first thing in the morning. “I’m actually staying in the north wing tonight. I thought it would be easier seeing as tomorrow’s an early start.”

  “I won’t keep you, if you want to get some rest.”

  She knew she should go. But she didn’t want to. Now that the palace had quieted, she found she needed a little time to unwind before trying to sleep. If she went to bed now, still keyed up, she’d start running to-do lists around in her head.

  “A brandy might be nice.”

  His smile was so warm she nearly melted. “Perfect,” he said, and went over to a table, took two snifters, and poured a generous amount of brandy in each. He handed one to her, and she took a deep inhale of the bowl before touching the liquid to her lips. After the wine at dinner, this one drink would be enough to lull her to sleep when she went to bed.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, and let out a sigh.

  Raoul took a similar sip. “Come,” he invited, “let’s sit for a bit. Tomorrow will be chaotic enough.”

  She smiled and sat in a plush armchair, crossed her legs, and rested her wrist on her knee, the snifter dangling casually from her fingers. “Tomorrow will go off like clockwork. The chaos will be contained to my brain. That’s how it works. Crazy on the inside, outward appearances run smoothly.”

  “And you’re incredibly good at it, Steph. I don’t know how we’d run things without you.”

  She wondered if now might be a good time to tell him she was considering other employment. But then he’d ask her why, and she’d have to come up with an excuse that didn’t hinge on her feelings for him. Tonight she was too tired to do that, so she let it go.

  “You’d find someone,” she said quietly, taking another drink. “No one is irreplaceable.”

  “I don’t know about that.” He leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbows on his knees. “I meant what I said about you having your own assistant. I’ve been relying on you too much.”

  Ah yes. Ordinarily, that would be the perfect opening, but she was too tired, too languorous, to broach the topic. And if she were honest with herself, nights like tonight made her question what she really wanted. Moving on would mean giving up a lot.

  “It’s my job, Raoul. It’s what you pay me for.”

  “Is this really just a job to you?”

  She met his gaze, felt her heart catch a little as his dark eyes searched hers. “Of course it’s not,” she murmured, before biting down on her lip.

  “What happened last year . . . we never talked about it.”

  Forget her heart catching. Now her lungs felt cramped, like she couldn’t possibly get enough air. Still, she forced herself to appear relaxed. She’d had lots of practice, after all. About seven years’ worth.

  “I assumed you wanted to forget about it. You were drunk, you know?”

  “I was embarrassed. And didn’t want you to hold it against me.”

  “Of course I wouldn’t.” She softened her voice. “Raoul. I know you. I know you were . . .” Her throat caught a bit and she stammered. “You were lonely,” she finished.

  “I was. I am. But I took advantage of your friendship, and I’m long overdue in apologizing.”

  Was his memory flawed? Because he didn’t seem to remember that she’d been there too, as an active and very willing participant. “Then I should apologize as well,” she said firmly. “You weren’t alone.”

  The admission didn’t ease the situation, however. Instead it was an acknowledgment that she’d been just as involved in the kiss as he had, that she had wanted it as much as he. And now that realization hummed between them, and heat crept up her cheeks.

  “I may have had too much brandy,” she said quietly, leaning forward and putting the half-empty snifter on a little table.

  “Well,” Raoul said, clearing his throat, “I had an idea yesterday. After the wedding, we’re going on a business trip. The tourism minister gave me some interesting ideas the other day, and I want to meet with some hoteliers and hospitality experts. I’ll need an assistant to travel with me, of course. And a minimum of security. Plus I intend to keep a light schedule and spend a few more days than necessary, so we can both have a mini vacation out of it. Both of us have been cooped up in this castle for too long.”

  She stared at him in surprise. Vacation? Raoul? The last time he’d done that, he and Ceci and the children had gone to Switzerland for some skiing and time in a mountainside chalet. He’d been nose to the grindstone since her death.

  “And where would we be going?” she asked, tilting her head as she looked at him. He was utterly earnest. And . . . excited. His eyes lit up and the lines around them melted away.

  “The Riviera,” he answered smugly. “There are some investors I want to meet, and resort owners. Our economy needs a boost, and while we’ve got a solid tourism industry here, we’re missing some five-star opportunities. It’s time we situated ourselves as a world-class destination.”

  The Riviera. She pursed her lips, trying not to drool over the idea of all that opulence and glamour. “Do you have anywhere in mind? Nice? St. Tropez? Monaco?”

  “We can work out the details once the wedding’s over. But what do you say? A week of fine dining, some spa treatments, lying on the beach?”

  She laughed. “That doesn’t sound much like work, Raoul. Is this your way of making me take a holiday?”

  He put down his glass and his expression sobered. “We both need it,” he said quietly. “Neither of us has had a break since the accident. And it’s not like we wouldn’t be working at all. I really do want to meet with investors and developers to try something different here.” A small smile touched his lips. “Consider sampling the amenities as research.”

  “Massages and body wraps?
” Her body nearly sighed, just thinking about it.

  “And saunas and delicious food . . . not that there’s any shortage of that here, but something different. I was looking at one resort and they coordinate heli-tours for their guests, or evening yacht excursions.”

  It did sound heavenly.

  “You’re looking at enticing someone to build a new resort here?”

  “Possibly. We’d have to look at environmental impact, of course, and what sort of partnership any developer would want to make with the government. I think it’s worth exploring. So does Señora Munoz.”

  Ah, yes. The tourism minister. This had been on Raoul’s mind a while, then. The idea that this was a luxury getaway for two melted away, and just as well. Raoul might think she needed a vacation, but she knew he didn’t mean for them to take one together. He was as practical as she was. Combining a work trip with a little rest and relaxation was simply efficient.

  “Well, it sounds like a terrible hardship,” she teased, leaning back in her chair again. “I’d suggest waiting for Diego and Rose to return from their honeymoon first. That way you can enjoy Lucy’s visit, too.”

  “They’re all happy, aren’t they?” he asked, and once more she picked up on a wistful note in his voice.

  “Yes, I believe they are,” she answered softly. “Lucy and Brody are perfect for each other, and Rose is just what Diego needed. They have it, Raoul. Just like you did with Ceci.”

  His eyes, nearly black in the dim light, met hers. “Do you think it’s possible to have it more than once?”

  She thought of their kiss in the alcove. Thought of the times he’d made her laugh, of the little considerations like bringing her a meal when she was working late. She thought of how she catered to his preferences without him even realizing, not just because it was her job but because she cared about him so deeply. If he gave her a chance, maybe they could see if there was something real between them. But even tonight, he brought up the kiss and then moved on. If there was another it out there for Raoul, he probably wasn’t envisioning her in that role.

  “I think it’s possible, for sure,” she answered. She picked up her snifter and downed the rest of the brandy in one burning gulp. After a small gasp, she looked up. “You’re thirty-seven, Raoul. You’re too young to be alone for the rest of your life.”

  The brief silence that followed her statement was slightly awkward. Raoul finished his brandy as well and put the glass down with a faint clink. “And what about you, Steph? You never mention your personal life. Do you want marriage, children?”

  She got up then, uncomfortable with the questions, afraid of the responses sitting on her tongue. “It’s getting late, and when we start talking about my love life it’s clear we’ve exhausted all interesting topics.” She laughed lightly, though inside she was churning. Was it wrong that she wished he’d take the hint? That he’d see what was right in front of him and maybe, just maybe, feel the same?

  Or was it that she simply couldn’t live up to Ceci’s legacy? Even if Raoul did care for her, would she always be in her cousin’s shadow?

  Could she settle for that?

  “I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Raoul offered, rising from his chair and coming toward her. “I just . . . I want you to be happy. I’m afraid this job hasn’t just worn you out, but it’s kept you from living your own life.” He frowned. “I was born into this family and into the responsibility. This is my duty. But it’s not yours.”

  She lifted her chin. “I think I can decide what is and what isn’t my duty, and I have as much right to love Marazur as anyone else. Even if I was born elsewhere.” After all, Ceci hadn’t been born in Marazur, either. But she’d loved her adopted country, and its people had loved her, too.

  Of course, Ceci had always fit in better than Stephani. Her side of the family had been wealthy and connected. Stephani’s family had been . . . well, not poor, but certainly lived a very different life from Ceci’s. Not that it had ever mattered to the cousins. They’d spent a summer together when they were twelve and had been like sisters ever since.

  “Of course you do. Are we arguing about something?”

  She shook her head and let out a breath. “No. I’m just tired, and feeling the brandy, I think. I need to get out of these shoes and into bed so I can deal with tomorrow.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Wedding day dawned gray and gloomy, with a steady rain falling. But by nine, the rain stopped, the clouds cleared, and the island of Marazur was clean and sparkling for the third royal wedding it had seen in a decade.

  Stephani looked out her borrowed bedroom window and sighed, wistful but happy. Two people she cared deeply about were heading to the church today. The wedding was to be deceptively simple and elegant, but it had taken an amazing amount of planning for it to be so. An early breakfast buffet had been set up in the dining room so people could eat as their schedules allowed. A fleet of cars waited to transport guests and family to the cathedral. Security was already in place. The wedding party was small and intimate, with Raoul and Rose’s brother standing up with Diego, and Hayley and another close friend, Becca, as bridesmaids.

  Lucy and Imogene were in charge of getting the children ready. Both girls were standing as flower girls, and the boys were escorting them up the aisle. Diego and Rose had insisted that since Max and Emilia had been little matchmakers, they needed to be part of the day.

  Flowers had already been delivered and were in place. Stephani had been downstairs already to oversee the ballroom and the preparations for the feast that would happen later in the day. Marco was on standby for driving Diego, Raoul, and King Alexander. Now Stephani just had to get dressed, redo her makeup, and get to the church ahead of everyone else.

  She’d picked a more subdued dress for the wedding, a sheath-style in classic navy, with matching heels and sapphire earrings and a necklace that Ceci had given her for her thirtieth birthday. Elegant and appropriate, but not flashy in any sense, and suitable for remaining in the background.

  The face that looked back at her in the mirror frowned. She should be happy. This was a glorious day. Wonderful for the family and for the kingdom. Instead she was standing here feeling left out, like she wanted to belong as she had last night. Raoul could say all he wanted about her being family. Behind castle walls was one thing. The face they showed the world was quite another.

  Lately it had caused more dissatisfaction than she was comfortable with. To be overly intimate in public would spark rumors. The media looked for any opportunity. She understood it completely, but nights like last night in the library underscored the loneliness she tried to ignore.

  She changed her frown to her work-smiley-face and hoped it didn’t look fake. Then she grabbed her jeweled clutch to head downstairs to the back entrance, where she’d leave for the cathedral, ensure everything was working like clockwork, and do her job.

  She met Raoul in the corridor and stopped short, catching her breath.

  Seeing him in a tux dozens of times over the years should dampen the effect, but it didn’t. He looked utterly dashing—suave and powerful and sexy and with a presence that was both alluring and a little intimidating. “Raoul,” she said abruptly, pressing a hand to her chest. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “I was coming to look for you. Slight kink in the works. Hayley has apparently come down with some sort of virus. She’s saying she can’t possibly attend.”

  Her eyes widened. “And they sent the crown prince as a messenger?”

  He shrugged. “Rose called Diego in a panic. Diego called me and we came up with a fix. Rose is totally on board.”

  “A fix for a Maid of Honor? Really?” Her heart thudded. Of all the things to go wrong—losing a bridesmaid was huge.

  “You,” he stated simply. “You’re nearly the same size as Hayley. You are going to stand up for Rose today.”

  Oh, no. This wouldn’t do at all. Her stomach churned as she thought about it. “It shouldn’t be me. It should be someone close
to her. A family member, a good friend.”

  “She has a good friend with her, but even so, you two are friends. And you are family, Steph. Not sure when you’re going to believe it, but everyone knows how much you helped Rose and Diego find their way to each other. Rose is sending the dress to the church, and you can change there.”

  “The dresses are champagne-colored. I need other shoes . . .” She looked up into Raoul’s amused eyes. “I can’t do this. I have to make sure everything else runs smoothly. It’s my job.”

  Raoul reached down and took her hand, and she was momentarily stunned as his fingers squeezed hers.

  “Stephani Savalas. You have planned this down to the minute and tiniest detail. Everyone knows their jobs. Trust them. Besides, we both know this isn’t about your job. It’s about you feeling like you don’t belong. Everyone here says you do. Maybe you should start listening.”

  Problem was it hurt too much to listen. It gave her hope for something that could never be and that she could never truly voice for fear of ruining the relationship they already had.

  He squeezed her hand again. “Go change your shoes. I have Marco on standby to take you to the church right now, and come back for us.”

  “Okay.” She switched into crisis management mode and slid her hand out of his grasp. “Okay. Right. Bridesmaid down, filling in. Dear God, I hope that dress fits.”

  Raoul chuckled. “It will. And honestly? I have a strange suspicion that Rose’s sister did this out of spite. Having the situation fixed so handily gives me a strange sort of pleasure.”

  His eyes twinkled at her and she let out a breath. “She’s not a happy woman, is she? And doesn’t seem all that happy for Rose.”

  “Which you are. So go. And I’ll see you at the altar.”

  She turned to go back to her room, hoping he didn’t see how her mouth had fallen open at his last words. Good God. See you at the altar? It struck her that she would be paired with Raoul now, since he was serving as Diego’s best man. Every time she tried to keep her distance, something kept throwing them together.