Pregnant By the Prince

Silence hungin the back of the limo as the car slid smoothly along the coastal highway towards the city. Stella worked on her laptop, connected to the vehicle’s wifi, while Aleki took the time to answer emails and confirm his schedule for the following week with his secretary. Following the wedding he was expected to travel to Samoa to finalize a trade agreement. Try though he might to focus on the details of the trip, economic forecasts and tax law couldn’t complete with the intoxicating fragrance of Stella’s perfume drifting over to him. Aleki inhaled, and the back of the luxury car seemed to shrink as her scent teased his nostrils.

Following his declaration at the breakfast table, her eyes had widened in a way that would have been comical, had he not been so aroused, and she had bolted like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. While some men might take offense at the object of their desire beating such a hasty departure, Aleki was not one of them. His Stella did not shy away from confrontation, so any escape on her part was avoidance rather than agitation. Triumph swelled in his chest.

She feels it, too.

Stella shifted in her seat again, tucking a strand of golden brown hair behind her ear and sending another whiff of her fresh, clean scent towards him.

Awareness buzzed under Aleki’s skin, tightening his stomach and giving way to the low throb of desire in his blood. Huffing out an exhalation, he gave up all pretense of work and turned towards the source of his distraction.

“What are you wearing?”

Stella cut her green eyes from her laptop screen to him, peering up at him from under a lush fringe of lashes. A familiar lust wrapped itself around him like an old blanket.

“Shorts?” Wariness edged her response. “Is that not okay? The Avali tourism website said that modest dress was encouraged but not enforced. They’re not short shorts.”

Truthfully, the only notice Aleki had taken of her shorts were that they emphasized the toned length of her legs. She’d slipped on a pair of tan sandals before leaving the villa and their toffee colour only served to make it appear that her legs went on forever. A fact Aleki was most appreciative of.

“Not your outfit.” He waved a hand dismissively, batting her uncertainty over her clothing choices away. “Your perfume. What is it?”

Stella cocked one dark, perfectly sculpted eyebrow and openly assessed him.

“It’s Green Tea, by Elizabeth Arden,” she admitted, after a short pause.

“It’s beautiful.”

Now she was looking at him like he was crazy.

“It’s like, forty bucks, dude.”

“Dude?”

“We’re friends. Friends call each other ‘dude’.”

Dismissing her use of the least-romantic endearment in the history of time, Aleki persisted.

“I’m serious. It smells…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Refreshing. It’s not too flowery, too sweet. It’s crisp and light. Why do you wear that one?”

“My mother wore it.” She spoke so softly he had to strain to hear it, even in the quiet of the car.

“Ah.”

The silence permeated through the still interior, heavy and dark.

“I was sorry to hear of her passing.” Aleki uttered gently.

Stella offered him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

“I thought about sending flowers, but I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from me. It seemed a bit trite, given the circumstances. I made a contribution to the Wellington Library in her name instead.”

Her eyes widened slightly and a rosy flush crept across her cheeks.

“That’s very kind of you. It wasn’t necessary, but she would have appreciated the gesture.”

“And your father? Do you still see him?”

“Not if I can help it.” The softness that had cushioned her voice evaporated, a steel edge cutting through her New Zealand accent instead, deepening her vowels while a crease marred her forehead.

Aleki had only a rudimentary knowledge of Stella’s relationship with her father, gleaned mostly from Luke and from the few curt remarks Stella had made about him during their university days.

Like how if she wanted to see him at graduation she’d need to hold her celebratory dinner at a dog track. He still remembered the way she’d looked saying that, the sun streaming in through the library window, picking out strands of gold in her hair and the lettering of the dusty old commerce textbooks stacked in a haphazard pile on the table between them in their private study room. How self-deprecation had twisted her features in an ungainly attempt to mask the hurt he saw in her eyes. Right then, in that moment of hidden vulnerability, Stella Warren had been the most beautiful woman Prince Aleki Esera of Avali had ever seen in his short life.

Sitting across from her now, her professionalism shining as brightly as her sleek ponytail, Aleki wondered further at the kind of man who would choose a dog track over being a part of this incredible woman’s life.

“Is this it?”

Stella’s voice broke through Aleki’s thoughts, as she gestured out the tinted window. Realising the car had come to a stop in the more industrial area of the city, Aleki leaned forward to confirm the building outside was indeed their destination.

In the event supply warehouse, Stella smiled brightly at the young man tending the counter and requested the Warren order. After hoisting two large bags onto the counter, the teen led her out the back like an eager puppy, barely sparing a glance at her royal companion.

Looking as out of place standing in the middle of dusty concrete delivery area as any queen, Stella whipped her smartphone from the pocket of her shorts and fired questions at the older manager who approached them.

Aleki winced in anticipation of the culture clash. Stella’s lists and efficiency were in direct contrast to the laid back culture of the island, even in the city.

To his shock, the elderly man answered quickly, in English, and always in the affirmative while Stella ran down a comprehensive list of queries, her red nails flashing in the sun as she scrolled down her phone screen.

“Lotu, you are a magician. Everything is perfect, and you are my hero. I’ll see you at ten Wednesday morning for delivery.”

“That delivery won’t be at my house at ten,” Aleki murmured against the soft pink shell of her ear as they moved back through the warehouse, aware of the appreciative gazes of Lotu and his teenage helper glued to Stella’s rear.

Satisfaction uncoiled itself like a snake as he noted the shiver that ran through her body. Moving away from him, she hoisted one of the bags from the counter.

“I know. I don’t need it until four.”

“Island time.” Aleki nodded, using the colloquial term to describe the slow moving pace of Avali, along with other tropical Pacific nations. He grabbed the other bag in his hand and heard the soft chink of glass on glass ringing out as the contents moved within it.

“You remembered. Well done, grasshopper.”

“The truck will arrive in the afternoon, and I can catalogue and sort. Thursday will be furniture, archway and lighting set up before the pre-wedding picnic and I can do finer details on Friday before the ceremony at five.”

With the handle of her own bag tucked into the crook of her elbow, Stella’s fingers beat a rhythm against her phone screen as she walked. She smiled up at him, finishing with an emphatic tap on the screen.

“Perfect.”

“So what else is on the list for today?”

“Emails, confirmations of travel arrangements, canape and cake selection with the chef at your property, paying the dancers, finalising the cocktail hour playlist, assembling favours and lettering place cards.”

“Nothing important then. Excellent.” Aleki waited as she nodded to his chauffeur and then slid into the cool interior of the car. “To The Grotto please, Andreas.”

“What?” Stella’s voice echoed from within the car. “I can’t go anywhere else. I have -”

“Cake to taste, emails to send, cars to confirm,” Aleki interrupted, his pulse quickening at the glare his guest levelled up towards him from the buttery leather seat of the limo. “And The Grotto to see. It’s the new pride of Avali. You would be a remiss tourist indeed to leave without seeing it.”

“I’m not here to be a tourist,” Stella reminded him, wiggling her way across the seat in a way that caused her breasts to move interestingly beneath her top. “I’m here to create magic. It’s bloody hard work creating magic, so forgive me if I don’t have time to accompany you on some sightseeing jaunt.”

“Some sightseeing jaunt?” Aleki scoffed. “If you’re in the business of magic, there’s no better place for you to visit.”

The limo purred to life underneath them and Andreas pulled smoothly out into the meager mid-morning traffic.

Stella’s voice rose higher.

“You don’t understand, Aleki. When I say lettering place cards, I mean hand-calligraphing each name onto a banana leaf with gold paint. Do you have any idea how much time that takes?”

“You need to relax, Stella.”

The look she gave him would have withered a weaker man. Aleki threw his head back and laughed.

“Look, if you were all alone at a strange venue, I would say fair enough. But the wedding is at my home, Stella. Paolo’s coconut cake is exceptional. Choose that. Use the standard canape selection Lani provides for my official engagements. No dance performance group on the island is going to hassle you for payment prior to an event held at my residence. Just take a breath and have some fun for an hour or so, okay?”

Stella inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and looked very much like she was trying not to lose her temper. Then her eyelids snapped open and she fixed him with a malachite stare.

“One hour.”

The ride to The Grotto was short, following the main highway that traversed the entire island. After about fifteen minutes, the limo pulled into a deserted rest stop. Indicating she should lead, Aleki noted the tight pull of Stella’s shoulders as he followed her down the man-made wooden steps that began by an unobtrusive hand-carved sign that seemed to simply sit by the side of the road.

“If you’re going to try to murder me and dump my body, you should know that I started taking Krav Maga a couple of years ago.”

Her voice floated back towards him, dragging his attention off the tantalizing sway of her hips.