Behind Palace Doors (Hollywood 3)

Something she didn’t recognize, or didn’t want to recognize, flitted through his eyes. “Yeah, good thing.”

As Victoria looked down at her designs, she remembered dreaming as she’d been drawing them. Dreaming of her wedding day, of her groom waiting at the end of the aisle.

And in all her dreaming, that man had been a prince. A prince who knew her inside and out, who cared for her as a friend and lover, who would do anything to make her happy.

Victoria could no longer deny that she was teetering on the edge of falling in love with her husband, and that out-of-control emotion scared her to death.

Eight

Stefan sat back and watched the chaos—otherwise known as dinner with his in-laws—which was becoming a little too hearth and homey to him between the newlyweds and the babies.

Bronson and his wife, Mia, took turns holding and feeding their little Bella, whom he believed Victoria told him was almost a year old now.

Victoria’s other brother, Anthony, was holding histwo-month-old baby girl as Charlotte fed the eighteen-month-old Lily in her high chair.

And through all the cries, spit-ups and diaper changes, the Grand Dane of Hollywood, Olivia Dane, sat at the head of the long, elegantly accessorized table and smiled. Either the woman didn’t realize that in a year or so her immaculate Beverly Hills home would be a giant playground or she was so in love with her family she didn’t care that her fine china could end up in millions of shards on her marble floor.

“Bella, no, honey.”

Stefan glanced to the other end of the table where Bella was throwing some orange, liquid concoction onto the floor. Why did all baby food look like already recycled dinner in a jar?

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Olivia waved a hand. “Marie can clean it up when she clears the table later.”

“No, I’ll get it.” Mia came to her feet and whipped out a bunch of wipes from who knows where. Obviously moms had a knack for always being ready for anything.

“I think Carly needs a diaper change,” Charlotte said as she came to her feet, holding her baby to her chest. “I’ll be right back.”

Anthony stood, taking the infant. “Let me. Go ahead and finish eating.”

Victoria laughed. “I love seeing my big strong brothers taking care of baby poop and puke.”

Stefan dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter. “And that’s the end of my dinner.”

Patting his leg, Victoria laughed. “Oh, toughen up, Prince. Your day will come.”

A shudder coursed through him at the thought of children being written into the archaic laws of his land. To be honest, he was surprised they weren’t, but at the same time he was thankful.

And just as quickly as that shudder spread through him, another took over as he glanced to Victoria’s smiling face. An image of her swollen with his child did something unrecognizable to his belly, his heart. He didn’t want to examine the unwanted emotions any further because if she were ever swollen with a baby, it more than likely wouldn’t be his.

She was on birth control. Besides, they hadn’t even discussed kids. They hadn’t discussed beyond the six months, other than to joke, much less anything permanent or long term.

“You okay?” Victoria asked in a low whisper. “You’re staring with a weird look on your face.”

He shook off the thoughts and returned her warm smile. “Fine. I admit I’m not used to babies, so all of this is new to me.”

“We weren’t, either,” she admitted, placing her cloth napkin onto the table. “But we adjusted quickly, and I couldn’t imagine our lives without all these little cuties.”

He studied her face once again, wondering if she did indeed have babies in her dream for life. Had he put that aspiration on hold when he’d selfishly asked her to be his wife? Hell, he hadn’t even asked, he’d basically begged...a moment he wasn’t very proud of, but nonetheless he’d had no choice. Once she’d mentioned wanting a family someday, but was that still a desire? And if so, where would that leave them and their marriage?

Discussing her fantasies of a family would have to wait. For one thing he didn’t think the topic was appropriate conversation at the dinner table with her family, and he had to speak with Anthony or Bronson, hopefully both, about his documentary idea.

Unfortunately, the right time had not presented itself.

Olivia scooted her chair back, the heavy wood sliding over the dark marble floor. “If everyone is done eating, we can go into the living room where the kids can play on the floor.”