The Crown Prince's Bride (Royal Duology 2)
Page 9
A kiss could only sustain a girl so long. And the Versace still hung in her closet, but she wasn’t about to wear it again.
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sp; “Blue,” Lucy suggested. “Raoul loves blue.”
The knots tangled up again. “What difference does that make?”
Lucy met her gaze. “Oh, no difference at all, I suppose. Hand me the lists and I’ll get started.”
When Lucy was gone, Stephani sat back in her chair and pondered the last twenty minutes. Lucy was different than the rest of the family. She hadn’t grown up with the protocol, nor lived in it for the past years since she’d discovered she was a real princess. Inviting Stephani to a family dinner was no big deal to her, but protocol-wise, it was a precarious line. Then again, the situation had never been black and white, because of Ceci.
But the comment about Raoul liking blue . . . Stephani knew that already. Which was beside the point. Lucy had suggested she wear blue. Why? Because Lucy might play fairy godmother but she surely wasn’t playing matchmaker.
Steph wasn’t about to wear blue just because Raoul liked it. He’d made his feelings plain enough six months ago. And trying to pretend otherwise was just punishing herself.
* * *
Raoul made his way to the dining room with a bounce in his step. Tomorrow his little brother was getting married. Despite his own personal heartache, Raoul was happy for Diego. Rose was a spectacular woman, strong as steel but with a softness that spoke of compassion and understanding. Despite her commoner upbringing, she’d be a wonderful princess. And the fact that Diego had finally left behind his questionable behavior was an added bonus.
And Lucy was here, too, with Brody and their children. He’d looked outside his window today and had seen all of them—Emilia, Max, Alex, and Rose’s niece, Alice, playing in the garden. Imogene was watching over all of them while the baby napped in a stroller. This was what the palace had been missing. Laughter. Home.
And if there was a little ache in his heart that he was going through this without Ceci, that was okay. At least now it was an ache and not an emptiness that brought him to his knees.
He stopped at the threshold of the dining room and simply watched.
Everyone was dressed up. Rose and Diego were here already, looking radiant, and holding wineglasses as they chatted to another couple Raoul assumed were Rose’s parents. Lucy and Brody chatted with a couple about their age—Rose’s brother and sister-in-law, he assumed, and a woman who looked younger than Rose, but with similar features and hair. Instead of Rose’s easy smile, she had a strained expression around her lips. Ah. The sister who was a bit of a wild card. Should be fun.
“Bit of a full house tonight, ¿sí?”
Raoul turned to see his father standing just behind him, a soft smile on his face. “It’s good, I think.”
“Me too. All of my family here together, and Rose’s, too.”
“And lots of children.”
Alexander chuckled. “I’m hoping Rose and Diego will add to that number, too.”
“Add to what number?”
Stephani’s soft voice interrupted and Raoul momentarily lost his capacity to speak.
Her dress was the color of a peacock’s feather, a bright blue that shone against her bronze skin. The satin fell in a straight sheath, draped from one shoulder by a jeweled brooch, while her other shoulder was bare. And the hem . . . Dios mío. It fell to the midpoint of her thigh, showcasing her long legs.
His gaze lifted to her face again and she raised an eyebrow. “Add to what number?” she repeated, and he realized he hadn’t answered her question.
“Grandchildren,” Alexander supplied. “Four is good. But a half dozen or more would be better.” He put a hand on Raoul’s shoulder. “We should probably go in.”
“I’ll be in shortly,” Raoul answered. In a more formal setting, there’d be protocol to follow. But for tonight, they’d put all that aside and had decided to treat the evening like a big family dinner.
He turned to Stephani. “You look beautiful. New dress?”
She met his gaze, a soft smile on her lips. “I’ve had it a while, but haven’t worn it. It’s a little . . . bright for official functions, when I’m supposed to be more invisible.”
“Shame. The color is perfect.”
Her cheeks colored and his heart gave a solid thump against his ribs in response. For six months now he’d ignored his . . . well, if not attraction, his awareness of Stephani. It hadn’t been easy. He saw her every day. And he’d never forgotten the sweetness of her kiss in the alcove, even if he had been a little too deep into his bottle of Scotch.
“I’m glad you approve. It’s not too much? Lucy said it wasn’t formal, but a cocktail dress was required.”