Princess of Estoria
Delaney Diamond
Garden Avenue Presss
Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
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Excerpt: Princess of Zamibia
Also by Delaney Diamond
About the Author
Blurb
Angela Lipscomb is flattered when Prince Andres of Estoria expresses interest in her, but she’s not looking for love. Not with a demanding career that takes all of her time and vivid memories of the pain caused by a broken heart. But their attraction is too strong to resist, and soon she’s convinced that an international fling couldn’t possibly hurt…could it?
Prince Andres is incapable of taking no for an answer. The playboy prince has set his sights on Angela, and neither the vastness of the ocean nor the distance of continents will keep him away. But when reality steps in, he’s forced to make a tough decision. Can their relationship work? Or are they better off apart?
Princess of Estoria by Delaney Diamond
Copyright © March 2019, Delaney Diamond
Garden Avenue Press
Atlanta, Georgia
ISBN: 978-1-940636-93-1 (Ebook edition)
ISBN: 978-1-940636-94-8 (Paperback edition)
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and e-mail, without prior written permission from Delaney Diamond.
www.delaneydiamond.com
1
Prince Andres Luis Vasquez Alamanzar II of the Principality of Estoria eyed his older cousin, Juan the Viscount of Guzman, from his position beside him. They both sat in the opulent office of Prince Felipe, Andres’s grandfather.
As the ruling head of state of Estoria, Felipe managed the country’s affairs primarily from this office, decorated with dark wood walls and furnishings that consisted of a desk that was centuries old, and heavy wood chairs whose colors matched the room in maroons and deep brown. At the moment, he stood facing the window, listening to Andres and Juan debate each other.
“It’s only a proposal,” Juan said.
“A proposal that could annihilate the marine life that location is known for. It’s the perfect viewing spot to see sharks, rays, and Eurasian otters. The eastern shore is one of the few tourism draws that we have in our country. If we disrupt that habitat, we risk losing animals.”
As the outdoorsy type, Andres enjoyed horseback riding and water sports like kayaking and deep-sea fishing off the coast of the island country. The idea of harming or in any way disrupting the ecosystem turned his stomach.
He knew very well that his cousin Juan didn’t care about nature and wildlife. The casino-hotel that he proposed bringing to the island would indeed generate additional revenue, but Andres believed the last thing they needed was another casino on an island that already had two—particularly one that could adversely impact the environment. In his opinion, the drawbacks outweighed the benefits. If he didn’t know his cousin better, he’d think the man was getting a kickback.
But the truth was, Juan probably hadn’t given the idea much thought and had been talked into it by his friend, one of the co-owners of the proposed casino. His cousin was simply not thorough. Because Juan was older and worked closely with Felipe on a number of palace projects, he was expected to take the throne after Felipe, but Andres had concerns. Hopefully, with the National Council for guidance, he would be a good ruler, though at times Andres questioned his judgment.
Felipe turned from the window where he had been looking out at the harbor. He wore a black suit and red tie. In his hand was a cup of coffee. Wrinkles lined his face, and the short hair on his head, as well as his mustache and goatee, were completely white. He looked, for lack of a better word, old, but in public maintained a certain vibrancy in appearance and walk. Only in private did he allow his shoulders to take on a gentle slope, like they did now.
“We should get the… What do you call that agency…? To look into it,” Felipe said.
“The environmental commission,” Andres supplied.
The commission was one of the smaller departments in the government, and depended on the state budget for a significant portion of its budget, much of which Andres had fought for upon his expanded role in Estoria’s financial affairs a few years ago.
“Yes. Have they been contacted yet?” Felipe asked.
“Not yet,” Juan admitted. “But—”
“Why not?” Felipe interrupted.
“My contact says we don’t have much time. If they can’t build here, the alternative is to take their business to Portugal. Do we really want to lose this opportunity to them?”
Andres gritted his teeth. Juan had purposely mentioned Portugal because of the contentious history between both countries.
Felipe’s brows snapped together in concern. “Of course not. What do you think, Andres?”
“I think we should wait to do this right. The owners can’t expect us to rush through such an important decision. If they do, we shouldn’t do business with them.”
Felipe nodded gravely and set down his coffee cup. “I agree. Here is what I suggest. Get me the proposal on the casino, and I’ll look at it and be better able to make a decision at that time.”
“The proposal was delivered to you a few days ago,” Juan said with a frown. He pointed at the bound document on the desk.
Felipe glanced down. “Oh.”
Andres frowned, too. The whole purpose of this meeting was to discuss the proposal and the potential for additional tax income from the erection of the new casino. Why hadn’t his grandfather read the report yet? As a matter of fact, he seemed a bit out of sorts lately.
Andres stood. “I think we should bring this meeting to a close. Grandfather, you need time to review the report, and so do I.” Much to his chagrin, he hadn’t received a copy until today.
Juan’s lips thinned into a line of displeasure, but he stood, too. “How long will this take, so I can get back to the owners? A few days?”
Andres shook his head. “I leave for the wedding in Zamibia day after tomorrow and won’t be back until next week. Let’s plan to meet when I get back.”
He would read the report on the plane to get up to speed. In the meantime, he’d touch base with the environmental commission to get to work on a study on the impact the building and its infrastructure might have on the coastal habitat.
“Very well. Have a safe trip. Uncle, I await your decision on when we should meet again.” Juan maintained a look of displeasure, but he nodded and exited t
he office.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Felipe said, “You don’t like the idea.”
“Not particularly. Aside from the fact that we don’t need another casino, you know how I feel about preserving the environment and the animals we share this space with. There are other ways to make money, and we’re currently doing a good job exploring them.”
Estoria was a banking center with no income tax, low business taxes, and as a tax haven was on par with Malta in the number of offshore companies domiciled there. Its warm climate welcomed visitors all year round, and the rich and famous frequented its shores, coming over from mainland Europe to enjoy the weather and hide away in villas scattered throughout the country. At the same time, Andres and a team of advisors oversaw highly profitable investment portfolios and businesses here and abroad for The Crown.
“I trust your judgment. I’ll look at the proposal while you’re gone on your trip.”
Andres picked up his copy from the edge of the desk and watched his grandfather settle into his chair.
“Are you all right, Grandfather?”
Felipe looked up. “Yes. Why?”
“You seem distracted of late. I just want to make sure you’re fine.”
Felipe waved his hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Nothing some extra rest won’t help.”
“Then make sure you get that rest,” Andres said.
The old man smiled slightly. “I will. Enjoy your time at the wedding, and please give my regards to King Babatunde, Prince Kofi, and his new bride. I trust you’ve arranged a suitable gift?”
“Of course. For individual gifts, I chose a pearl necklace from the royal collection for the bride and engraved diamond cufflinks for the groom. As a couple, they’ll receive a five-bedroom chalet in Switzerland with a stunning view of the Alps. Workers are getting it ready as we speak.”
“Excellent. Then I will see when you return.”
Andres bowed his head in deference and exited the office.
2
Standing on the balcony above the wedding reception of his best friend, Prince Kofi of Zamibia, Andres sipped champagne and kept his gaze glued to the ravishing woman seated at one of the tables, talking and laughing with other guests. Coming to the wedding, he hadn’t expected to meet anyone. He’d simply planned to show up and then leave, but he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes from Angela Lipscomb for more than a few minutes the entire night, and at one point her eyes had idled on him, too, suggesting that the interest was mutual.
The bride and groom had disappeared, with plans to leave for their honeymoon to Mozambique in the morning. Meanwhile, the party in the Great Hall continued unabated. Those who remained danced the night away to the beat of drums, drank Zamibian wine, and gorged on the wide range of food options laid out on the tables.
Angela wore a vibrant red halter dress that exposed her back, with a decorative neckline that looked like roses circled her throat. The dress banded around the waist and the hemline landed below her knees.
His eyes traced the length of her long dark hair and over the shape of her lips, down to her pointy chin. Her lipstick was long gone, revealing pink lips set against tawny-gold skin. He imagined her naked, spread across his bed and sighing with pleasure as he kissed his way down her abdomen.
Andres sipped from his glass.
He’d known plenty of lovely women in his lifetime and dated models and aristocrats who’d made sure that a surgeon’s scalpel gave them perfect noses and breasts. Angela was lovely, too, but that’s not all that drew his attention. There was more to her than that. She seemed carefree yet controlled. Funny yet serious. She fascinated him from a distance, and he was drawn to her, anxious to get to know her in a way he’d never been drawn to another woman.
His other best friend, Wasim, approached and stood next to him. Wasim was a prince from the Middle Eastern country of Barrakesch. He, Kofi, and Andres had been friends ever since their university days.
“What, or should I say who, has your attention?” Wasim asked.
Andres dragged his eyes away for a second to look at his friend. Wasim’s dark eyes sparkled with amusement and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a knowing smile.
“Angela Lipscomb, the bride’s best friend.”
“Ah yes, Angela,” Wasim remarked.
Andres watched him sideways, trying to ascertain his interest. He’d made a comment about her earlier. Was he also interested in the American woman?
“Are you interested?” he asked.
“She’s beautiful, but no. My attention is elsewhere.” Wasim spoke slowly, and Andres followed his friend’s gaze to a petite woman with deep brown skin, spinning and gyrating her hips in the middle of the Moroccan belly dancers.
“Imani?” Andres asked, incredulous. He laughed and shook his head. “Kofi will kill you if you touch his cousin.”
Wasim snorted. “Imani and I are friends. Besides, I didn’t say I was interested in her.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Back to Angela,” Wasim said pointedly. “Are you going to stare at her all night or do something about your infatuation?”
No way he was leaving without getting to know her better, and he was willing to ditch his security detail to do that. He grinned at his friend. “I’m going to do something.”
Angela popped the last of a chocolate-dipped clementine into her mouth. She swayed to the music, watching dancers draped in traditional west African fabrics, with gold headpieces and their faces dusted with gold. They’d become the focus after the belly dancers took a break, and these performers entertained the guests by teaching them how to perform the unfamiliar dance moves.
“You should join them,” a voice said next to her.
She stopped moving and stifled a smile at the sound of his voice—smooth, cultured, and every syllable laden with a Spanish accent. When she saw him earlier, she’d let him know of her interest by making eye contact and holding his gaze for a few seconds before looking away.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked.
“Not now, but you will. I’m…Andres Vasquez.”
Dark-haired and tall, Andres was a striking man. He’d removed the jacket and tie from earlier and wore only the suit’s dark slacks and stark white shirt, which showed off his athletic build to advantage. His angular face was marked by high cheekbones, and a scar that sliced through his left eyebrow made her curious about how he’d received it. His lips were full and sensuous-looking, and his eyes sparkled like blue waves in the ocean.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“And you are…?”
She had the distinct impression that he already knew her name, but she answered anyway. “Angela Lipscomb, friend of the bride.” She returned her attention to the dancers.
“So, do you plan to join them?” he asked.
Angela glanced sideways at him. “I don’t have the right moves.”
“I doubt that,” he said slowly, his gaze lingering on her body. “But they are offering what amounts to a class here, so maybe you should join them so you could learn the steps.”
“What makes you think I want to?”
“When I walked up, you were already moving to the beat.”
“The music is hard to resist, but I’ll leave those moves to everyone else,” Angela replied.
After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again. “How do you like Zamibia?”
“I like it.”
“Any plans to do some sightseeing?”
“Unfortunately, no. I barely managed to squeeze the time off from my job, so I’m flying back tomorrow. And you?”
“I’ve been here several times before. I know the country well because of my relationship with Kofi. Too bad you’re not staying longer. I could have shown you around.”
“That wouldn’t have been necessary. Remember, I’m friends with the bride. Dahlia offered to arrange a guide and transportation in the country. I wish I could have taken advantage of it.”
<
br /> “Don’t tell me you’re going straight to bed as soon as you leave here.” He arched the damaged eyebrow.
Angela laughed. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“No, no. Have you even had a chance to explore the palace grounds?”
“Um…no.” She hadn’t done much of anything because of the wedding prep and spending time with her friend, talking as they caught up on current events in each other’s lives. Then the actual ceremony and reception.
“Well, perhaps you would allow me to show you around.”
He was nothing if not persistent. She liked a persistent man.
“So you’re a tour guide?”
“Unofficially, yes.” He paused. “You know, I’ve barely been able to take my eyes off you all day,” he said, his voice lower, deeper. “Tell me, how can I spend time with you before you run away tomorrow?”
Her face heated at his words. From the corner of her eye, she saw that he continued to watch her.
“I’m flattered.”
“You should be. That doesn’t happen very often.”
“What doesn’t?” She twisted her head in his direction again.
“That a woman keeps my interest with no effort on her part.”
“Oh my, you must be quite the playboy.”
He chuckled. “Some would say so, yes.”
“And a bit full of yourself, maybe?”
“A little.” He held up his finger and thumb close together.
Princess of Estoria (Royal Brides Book 2) Page 1