The Crown Prince's Bride (Royal Duology 2)

The place was spotless. Her cleaning service had come yesterday and given the place a top-to-bottom scrubbing, and this afternoon Stephani had made sure everything was in its place. Still she worried what Raoul would think of it. Her taste was nothing like the decorating at the palace. There it was rich and worked to impress. Her style was more what she’d call cozy chic.

Three minutes.

Maybe it had been a dumb idea, inviting him here for dinner. To keep herself from going crazy, she checked on the dish in the oven one more time. The stuffed eggplant recipe had been a favorite of her childhood, and her grandmother had made it when she went to stay. Stephani’s béchamel was never as good as yaya’s, though it was passable. She just hoped Raoul liked it.

Her phone rang and she nearly tripped over herself, rushing to pick it up. “Hello?”

“We’re just pulling up.”

“Third floor, second door on the left off of the elevators.”

“See you in a minute.”

She raced to the balcony and looked down, saw one of the plain sedans pull up outside. No official limo. It felt a bit dangerous, sneaking around. But the press seemed to pop up without warning. Even last year, a picture had shown up following Raoul’s birthday, of him and Rose in the palace gardens. That, though, had been an inside job.

Marco, she knew, could be trusted. And she doubted anyone else in the household knew where Raoul was tonight. After all, that was the job of the security team and, well, her.

She opened the door just as he was about to knock, and laughed at the look of surprise on his face. “Come in,” she offered, pushing her nerves away. Nothing could be changed now.

He stepped inside and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “I was going to bring you flowers, but I didn’t want anyone to ask any questions.”

“It feels a little strange, sneaking around.” She squeezed his hand. “Kind of exciting, but also . . . I don’t know. Like we’re doing something wrong.”

“It’s not wrong, it’s private. And speaking of, did you want to shut the door?”

She laughed and closed it with a firm click. “Sorry. And welcome to my home.”

He looked around, then back at her with a smile on his face. “It suits you. Simple, not overdone, but inviting. It’s nice, Steph. Really nice.”

“Thanks.” She went to the kitchen and got glasses for the bottle of red she’d uncorked earlier. “I decorated it a piece at a time. Nothing really matches, but somehow—”

“It all fits together.” Raoul smiled and followed her, then stood across the counter from her. “That’s one of my favorites.” He nodded at the bottle.

“I know.” She grinned. “My job has its privileges. Knowing your preferences is one. That doesn’t apply to dinner, by the way. I made one of my childhood favorites.” She handed him the glass of wine. “Tonight you get a taste of my Greek upbringing.”

“I look forward to it.”

They touched rims and drank of the rich, ruby wine. There was no question of him driving; Marco would be back to pick him up whenever he called. Steph also had a bottle of his favorite Marazurian brandy in her cupboard for after dessert.

Raoul put his glass down and came around the counter. “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”

She took his hand and he pulled her into an embrace. “Every day at the office I have to watch what I say. How I look at you.” He kissed the hair just above her ear. “It’s not even a matter of keeping it professional. I would never do anything inappropriate.”

“I know that. It’s been driving me crazy, too.”

“I keep thinking, what if Sofia or my father walks by? Or one of the security team or staff? How are we supposed to be real with each other if we self-monitor every word and action?”

“I know,” she repeated, unsure of what else to say. Maybe she should tell him she’d had other job offers. She’d been sitting on them, not wanting to turn them down but not in a place where she could accept just yet, either. If she didn’t work at the palace, maybe it would be easier. But then, all the offers had come from off-island. Right now leaving meant leaving Marazur altogether. That wouldn’t make dating any easier, would it?

“The children are back tomorrow afternoon.” He rubbed his hands over her back and she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the sensation. “So are Lucy and Brody.”

“You must have missed them,” she murmured.

“I have, but it’ll mean even less privacy for us, Steph.”

She pulled back. “What are you saying, Raoul? Is this too difficult for you? I don’t like the sneaking around either, but I don’t know what else to do. We need to sort this out on our own time.” Despite her deep feelings for him, she didn’t want to rush anything. They both needed to be sure, and ready.

He met her gaze. “It’s difficult, but not too difficult. We’ll fig