Behind Palace Doors (Hollywood 3)

And that path was precisely where her mind did not need to travel. She was letting her thoughts run rampant because of a few heated kisses. Very hot, very scorching, very toes-curling-in-her-stilettos kisses. Just because she’d once wondered “what-if,” didn’t mean that anything could stem from this arranged marriage. One day at a time is how she would have to approach this. She couldn’t afford to let lust steal the greatest friendship she’d ever had.

But she knew her emotions were teetering on a precipice and it would take just a small nudge for Stefan to push her over the edge and right into his bed.

“Stefan and I have discussed everything, Mom.” Victoria offered a comforting smile, hoping she wasn’t lying to her mother. “I’m pretty sure we have this under control. He’s assured me that he won’t let me get in over my head. I’m basically an accessory for him at this point.”

Accessory. She hated that term, but what else could a wife to one of the world’s most powerful, sexy men be called? He didn’t need her to do any public speaking or head up any charities, not in the short time they planned to be married, so the demeaning name, unfortunately, fit.

“I had to keep your brothers out of here, you know.” Olivia stepped back, smoothing a hand down her raw silk, pale blue floor-length gown. “They insisted on making sure you were okay, so I had to assure them I’d check and report back.”

Victoria laughed, turning to face the mirror and glance at her reflection once more. “You can tell my self-imposed bodyguards that I am not having cold feet and I’m perfectly fine. They should be worrying about their wives standing up beside me in front of millions of people watching on TV. I swear, last I saw of Mia and Charlotte, they were so nervous I thought they were going to pass out.”

“I’m going to see them now,” Olivia said. “They will be fine, so I just want you to concentrate and worry about you. This is your day, no matter what the circumstances.”

Olivia’s hands cupped Victoria’s shoulders as she laid her cheek against hers to look at their reflection in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, Victoria. Stefan may change his mind about you having control in the end. He may not want to let you go once his title is secure.”

“The Playboy Prince?” Victoria joked, using his nickname. “He’ll let me go so he can shuffle back into the crowd of swooning women and place me back on that friend shelf.”

Their kisses replayed once again in her mind. Could they go back to being just friends? Would she want them to? They hadn’t even lived together for their allotted six months and already she had fantasized about taking those kisses further. How could she not? They were definite stepping stones to more promising, erotic things.

God, in heaven. What had she gotten herself into? She swore she wouldn’t put her heart on the line again, but how could she not when Stefan needed her? Maybe she needed him, too. More than she ever realized.

* * *

Hundreds of guests filed through the grounds at Alexander Palace on the edge of the emerald ocean. Cameras were positioned at every angle to capture each moment as guests entered the Grand Ballroom. The world watched as the next king and queen of Galini Isle were about to wed in what the media had dubbed the most romantic wedding of the century. Obviously the mysterious bride angle had paid off.

Many of the headlines leading up to the nuptials had been amusing. Stefan’s personal favorite: Playboy Prince Finally Settles Down.

The media could mock him all they wanted. He’d show them just how serious he was about this wedding...even if the idea of being wed scared the hell out of him.

He focused his eyes to the end of the aisle and his chest constricted, breath left his lungs.

Stefan couldn’t think. At this moment, he couldn’t even recall the exact reason he’d asked Victoria to marry him, but he was most thankful he had.

She floated—yes, floated—down the aisle like a glorious angel coming to rescue him, wearing an original-design gown that dipped just enough in the front to have his imagination running into overdrive, while still looking classy. Two strands of pearls draped over each of her toned biceps, hinting that they’d once been straps that a lover had slid off her slender shoulders. And damn if he didn’t want to be that lover.

The dress cut perfectly into the curve of her waist and fell straight to the ground. A shimmery veil shielded her face, and Stefan couldn’t wait to lift it, to kiss his bride and get another taste of the flavor he’d come to crave from her lips.