Behind Palace Doors (Hollywood 3)

He was going to go mad if he didn’t concentrate on something else. Unfortunately, no matter what he did, all thoughts circled back to Victoria.

Stefan shoved off the rail and marched to his room. Maybe if he tried to rid their room of reminders, that would help. After all, he was still hanging on to her doodles and sketches. He yanked open the drawer on his desk and pulled out the random drawings from Victoria’s late-night dress designs.

Something slid beneath his hand as he picked up the sketches. An SD card. And not just any SD card, but the one he’d taken from the intruder that day at the beach.

Obviously he felt the need to torture himself further because he found himself popping it into the computer. In actuality, he wanted to look at Victoria when she was happier, before he’d filled her life with anguish.

He rested his palms on the desk, waiting for the images to load. In no time several small pictures appeared on the screen, and Stefan sank into his office chair. He clicked on the first one, maximizing the image.

Click after click he saw the same thing over and over: Victoria smiling at him, hope and love swimming in her eyes, her hair dancing around in the ocean breeze and the sunset in the distance.

But the last image was different. The final picture was like a knife through his already damaged heart.

Victoria sat with her back to the camera, her face to the ocean as he looked at her. There was no smile on his lips, but it was the expression in his eyes. The image smacked him in the face. No man looked at a woman with such adoration, such passion, like nothing else mattered in the world, if he didn’t love her. How could he not have realized that all this time, everything he’d felt, every twinge in his chest, had been love? All those times she’d smiled at him and he felt a flutter and each moment he wanted to just hold her near...damn, how could he have missed what was right in front of him?

Stefan fell against the back of his seat as the picture stared him in the face, mocking everything he’d had in his grasp and had let go.

The ache he’d felt for days intensified to a level he never knew existed. Pain consumed him, and he knew he had to take action or face a lifetime of loneliness because no woman could or would ever replace his Tori.

There was no way he would give her up without a fight. No way in hell. If he had to recruit her brothers, her mother, even God himself, Stefan had to win her back.

He would make her see that she did mean everything to him. She was his best friend, and he seriously didn’t think he could get through life without her.

With his mind working in overtime, he started plotting how he would get his wife back.

Sixteen

Against her family’s wishes and best attempts to talk her out of it, Victoria wasn’t about to miss the coronation. Stefan may not have gone about their relationship the right way, but he did deserve to be king.

After all, his country was the one thing in life he actually loved. At one time she would’ve given anything to hear him say those words about her, too.

No matter the months that had passed, the pain was just as fresh, just as raw. Even though her bridal line had launched with great success, she couldn’t enjoy the overwhelming attention and adoration her designs were getting.

Victoria smoothed a hand down the royal-blue gown she’d designed for the coronation. She’d wanted to match Stefan’s bright sash that stretched from his shoulder to his hip. Though why she tried so hard was beyond her.

No, she had to be honest, at least with herself. She wanted him to shine. Wanted them to put up a united front for the public. If anyone knew about pretenses, it was her. Having come from the prestigious Dane family, she was all too aware of what could happen if the right image wasn’t portrayed, and this was Stefan’s final step into the role of king.

As she glanced in the mirror, she couldn’t help but have a sense of déjà vu. This was the exact room she stood in six months ago when she’d married. Only this time she’d traveled alone. Her mother wasn’t supportive and her brothers weren’t too happy, either. Her sisters-in-law, well, they totally understood the stupid things women did for love.

And yes, after all she’d been through, she loved the man. Dammit, she couldn’t help herself. Stupid female hormones. She wanted to hate him for the pain he’d caused, wanted to despise him for making her fall in love. But she only had herself to blame. How long had she known him? How many times had she seen a broken heart lying at his feet?