“Yes, they could be. And right now, our lives are getting better, don’t you agree?” His voice lowered and he dropped his gaze to her mouth.
“Yes. Definitely better,” she agreed.
When he bent his head to kiss her, she lifted her lips to meet him halfway.
On Sunday, Angela lay on top of Andres with her cheek against his back. His skin was so soft she didn’t want to move.
The sound of the waves crashing outside saddened her. In a little while, she’d have to leave, and she didn’t want to.
“I better go.” She kissed his shoulder and rolled off him onto the mattress. She stared up at the ceiling. The weekend had been way too short. Where had the time gone?
“Stay with me.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Of course you can. Quit your job and let me take care of you. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about clients and schedules and getting back to work after a fun, relaxing weekend.”
Was he joking or serious? She grinned, smoothing away a lock of hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “Be a kept woman, you mean? Sure.”
She slipped from the bed and went over to the luggage.
“Is that such a crazy idea?”
Angela searched for clothes to change into after her shower. “Have you done it before?” She pulled a few articles of clothing from the suitcase.
“I have.”
Angela straightened and looked at him. “Are you serious? You paid a woman to be with you?”
“I didn’t pay her to be with me. I covered her expenses so she’d have more time to spend with me.”
“However you choose to define the relationship, I’m not interested.”
“Why not?” Andres sat up in the bed.
“Because I’m way too independent for that.” She tossed him a saucy grin over her shoulder. “Care to join me in the shower?”
He jumped up from the bed, and she squealed, scampering into the bathroom ahead of him.
Later, he escorted her out to the helipad and the waiting helicopter, which would take her back to Puerto Rico for the flight home. They exchanged a lingering kiss, and then she climbed aboard. She watched him below, hands tucked into his trousers, face solemn as the wind from the rotating blades whipped his clothes and hair into a frenzy. When tears pricked the back of her eyelids, she turned away.
Leaving him was harder than she’d expected. She cursed her maddening, out-of-control need for him. If she didn’t need him so much, then leaving wouldn’t be so hard.
Her fingers clenched in her lap. Would she always feel like this when they separated, or would the achiness become easier to bear over time? She hoped the latter. Because the wrench in her gut was already close to unbearable.
14
Wasim’s wooden mallet connected with the ball, landing a hard blow that sent it in the opposite direction toward the goal of their opponents. The crowd went wild as a potential victory for the Diamond Team was now a possibility.
“¡Vamos!” Andres yelled.
He pulled on the horse’s reins and completed an agile pivot, racing downfield after the ball. He galloped alongside a member of Los Caballeros, the opposition team from Argentina, and reached down and swung his mallet, narrowly avoiding a collision with the other man’s horse.
The bell rang to let them know only thirty seconds remained in the match. The third member of the Diamond Team, a professional player from Estoria named Jorge, came in from the side and hit the ball toward Andres. He in turn sent it downfield to his friend Kofi.
Kofi raced toward it, seconds ahead of the opposing team member, and swung, performing an elegant shot under the horse’s neck. With only seconds to spare, the ball swept through the Los Caballeros goalposts and the crowd jumped to their feet, clapping and yelling.
“Yes!” Andres yelled. He stood in the stirrups and threw up his hands at the victory.
Though it was only an exhibition game, this was an important win. He, Wasim, and Kofi were patrons of the Diamond Team. They’d poured millions into the team for training, travel, and horses. In exchange, they won the occasional tournament and got to play in them with the professionals. This win was one they’d remember for a long time to come. They’d beat a team of Argentinians.
Andres’s horse trotted up beside Kofi’s. “Good job.”
Wasim and Jorge rode up alongside them.
“Well played,” said Jorge.
The four men did a victory lap, waving their hands at the cheering spectators. After long moments of adulation, they shook hands with the four men from the other team and took photos with the trophy.
The three princes quickly changed into collared shirts and slacks and walked toward a white VIP private cabana located field side. A second match started soon and they wanted to be in position to watch the team they funded compete. Their progress was slow as they shook hands along the way and accepted congratulations from the men and women who intercepted their progress.
Kofi’s cousin, Imani, greeted them with a smile as they approached. She was dressed like many of the other women, in a spectacular white hat and a yellow and white sundress that brightened her dark brown skin.
“Well, congratulations are in order,” she said, standing from the round table. Attendants waited at another table filled with all sorts of alcoholic options and gourmet hors d’oeuvres.
“Was there ever any doubt?” Wasim said.
“Of course, but now you have a tournament trophy to add to your list of accomplishments.” Her eyes focused on something in the distance. “Oh my goodness, is that Nacho Figueras?” Imani covered her mouth and her eyes widened.
They all turned and sure enough, the famous polo player stood near the field with his wife, in conversation with a man Andres didn’t recognize.
“You realize we just won our match?” Wasim said.
Imani smiled sweetly. “Yes, but we all know that was a fluke. No offense, gentlemen. Nacho is a true champion, and he’s very good looking. I have to meet him.”
“You know he’s married?” Wasim asked, sounding irritated.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t say hello, and you promised to introduce me, remember?” Imani grinned and batted her eyelashes at him.
Wasim groaned.
“You can’t go back on your promise now.”
Imani looped an arm through his, and Wasim grunted and muttered in Arabic.
“We’ll be right back,” Imani sang, dragging him away.
Andres chuckled and sat down at the table, stretching his legs out before him. “She’s like a ball of fire,” he remarked.
“Always,” Kofi agreed. “If Wasim is not careful, he’s going to get burned.”
“What do you mean?”
Kofi joined him at the table. “I’m not a fool. I see the way he looks at my cousin.”
Wasim had denied his interest to Andres, but their flirtations with each other indicated there was some interest on both their parts.
“And you’re worried about Wasim and not her?”
“I’ve seen Imani break hearts before. Trust me, he has no idea what he’s in for.”
Andres chuckled. He had not expected Kofi to take this point of view. He’d fully expected him to be protective of Imani, but clearly she could hold her own. He now worried about his good friend, Wasim, too.
Andres pulled one of the other chairs closer and stretched his arm along the top. “How are things in Zamibia? Settled, I hope.”
They hadn’t had a chance to talk before the match started. Kofi had experienced several tragedies since the wedding. One of their mines had collapsed because of foul play, causing death and injury that plagued his friend’s conscience though there had been no way for him to know ahead of time of the sinister motives of the culprits. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, a member of his staff had done the unthinkable by threatening the lives of members of the royal family.
“We’re coping and doing much better. Justice was swift,” Kofi said in a grave voice.
�
�And Dahlia, she’s adjusting to her new life?”
“Yes. As you know, the transition hadn’t been easy for her at first, but she’s gotten a lot better.” Kofi’s mood changed, and he leaned forward with a grin. “I have some good news. I wanted to tell you and Wasim in person. Dahlia is pregnant.”
“What? Congratulations! That’s cause for a celebration.”
He signaled to a waiter, and when he caught the man’s eye, told him to bring over a bottle of champagne. He did so, as well as set a starter plate of hors d’oeuvres in front of them.
The two men shared a toast.
Andres held up his glass. “Congratulations! To new beginnings, marriage, changing diapers, and all the things I used to think I didn’t want.”
They touched their glasses together. Kofi took a sip from his and then set it on the table. “Did I understand you correctly? You used to think you didn’t want? That’s past tense.”
“My stance on marriage has…evolved, you might say.”
Kofi’s eyebrows shot up. “When did this happen?”
“I met someone.”
Kofi narrowed his eyes. “Are you Prince Andres of Estoria, confirmed bachelor, from the rogue principality of Estoria?”
“I assure you, it is I.” Andres sipped from his glass, amused at his friend’s teasing.
“This sounds serious. You’re not joking at all, are you? Whoever this woman is, you really like her.” Kofi popped an olive in his mouth.
“Yes.” Andres ran a hand through his hair. “She consumes me. I wanted her to come today, but she couldn’t get time off from work.”
“Aha, so she’s a working woman. How did you meet her?”
Andres looked steadily at his friend. “At your wedding.”
“Oh really? What’s her name?”
“Angela.” He waited for Kofi to connect the dots.
“Angela…” Kofi stared at him. “Angela Lipscomb, Dahlia’s best friend?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been seeing her since the wedding?” Kofi asked.
“Well, not too long after the wedding. She’s different, to say the least. Beautiful. Funny. And is not afraid to challenge me.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” Kofi said.
“But she’s also independent and headstrong and won’t do what I tell her.”
“I know all about that,” Kofi said, referring to his wife.
They both chuckled.
“It must be difficult with her living in the States and you living here in Europe.”
“It’s impossible.” Andres sighed. “And her independence makes having a relationship harder. She loves her job and wants to keep it, but consulting keeps her busy. She’s in Hong Kong at the moment.”
“Hmmm, I understand how that could be a problem.”
“Otherwise, she’s perfect.”
“Is there any flexibility in her career at all?” Kofi asked.
“Not that I can see or that she seems willing to take advantage of.”
“How serious are you about her? Do you want her to give up her career so you can spend more time together? Are you talking marriage?”
“Marriage, I’m not sure,” Andres admitted, though the thought came to him more often lately. “I tested the waters already, and she doesn’t seem open to giving up her career.” He wasn’t even sure if she fully understood what he was asking back on Isla de Vasquez when he suggested that she quit her job.
He could see himself married to Angela, working together in the palace, riding horses around the island in their downtime. But was that something she would consider? Could she walk away from her family, her career, and country, to be with him?
“One of our biggest problems is that she doesn’t want the publicity that comes with being with a man like me. One of her exes was in the music industry, and she wants no part of public life again.”
“Well then, you have to respect that. But if you’re not sure about marriage, and you simply want to be with her, does anyone have to know? No one knows now. No one knew about your grandfather’s mistress, if I recall correctly what you told me.”
“Officially, no one knew about her, but everyone knew,” Andres said dryly.
“I see.” Kofi swirled his glass on the table for a moment while his gaze swept the field. “If you’re going to spend more time with Angela, one of you has to give, and we both know that will be her. How long ago did you broach the topic of giving up her career?”
“It’s been a couple of weeks.” Andres sipped champagne.
“Maybe it’s time to bring it up again. Buy her a place in Estoria or in Spain so that she could be closer. And she doesn’t have to give up working entirely. Employ her at one of your family’s companies.”
Andres liked that idea and it might appeal to Angela. She enjoyed working, and that way she wouldn’t be bored. “I’ll think about it.”
He thought about his grandfather’s arrangement and knew he could never live that life. Felipe had married a woman he didn’t love and kept the woman he did love away from the public eye. They’d loved each other, but they’d both been miserable because they couldn’t truly be together. And now his grandfather had no one to spend his twilight years with. His wife had died and his mistress had long ago moved on.
Over the loudspeaker, the announcer said the next match started in five minutes.
Andres tapped his fingers on the table top. He’d convinced Angela to enter into a relationship with him, despite the fact that he was a public figure. Surely he could take his negotiations skills even further and figure out how to convince her to move to Europe. Like Kofi suggested, she could keep working if she wanted to, but then they could be together more often.
He liked that idea and would start working on a plan right away.
15
Under the soft duvet cover in the hotel suite, Angela nestled against the warmth of Andres’s body. As always, last night they’d shared intense and erotic lovemaking that she would rewind in her mind until the next time he came to town.
Unfortunately, she had to get up now to start the day. She rolled away from his warmth with a groan.
“Where are you going?” Amusement colored his voice. He closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against the middle of her back where the sheet had fallen away.
His mouth sent shivers down her spine, and Angela shoved her thick hair from her face and rose onto her elbows.
“I have to go to work,” she said.
“Not yet. I have something for you.” He reached into the drawer of the bedside table and handed her a black velvet box with the name of a European jeweler printed in gold on top.
Angela sat up against the pillows and kept the linens tucked under her arms to cover her nakedness. “What is this?” She playfully shook the box.
“Open it,” he said with an indulgent smile, sitting up, too.
“I’ll be as spoiled as you with all these gifts. Is this part of your master plan to make sure no other man can compare?” she said.
“Exactamente.”
“Hmm. You’re really making it tough on my future boyfriends.”
“Good,” he said with a big grin.
She opened the box and gasped when she saw the gift. It was a gold necklace with a diamond pendant and matching earrings. “Andres, this is too much.”
“I want you to wear them when you come to DC in a couple of months.”
“You want me to come see you then?” They’d discussed the trip but weren’t sure they’d be able to get together because he’d only be in the country one day for the political event and then flying out the next day.
“Yes. Will you be traveling for work?”
“No, I should be able to make it.”
“Good. I want you to wear this jewelry. For me? Bueno?”
“Bueno.” She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. “You really are spoiling me.”
“I can spoil you even more,” he said.
Angela’s should
ers sagged and she groaned. “Don’t start.” She scooted off the bed.
His response was a throaty chuckle. “I’ve told you before, quit your job and I’ll take care of you.”
“Ha, ha. Very funny.”
“I’m serious,” Andres said, as she padded over to the walk-in closet.
“I’m sure you are.” She searched the rack for something to wear and removed a blazer, a pair of black pumps, a skirt, and a blouse. She grabbed underwear from one of the drawers.
“I am not kidding, Angela.”
She ignored the firmer tone of his voice and stepped into the opulent bathroom. Gold fixtures and trim set against white marble glinted back at her. She put down her shoes and hung the clothes on the back of the door while a twist of…something filled her stomach.
Fear? Unease?
Andres hadn’t brought up the topic since the trip to Isla de Vasquez, but she’d thought about it since then. It was not in her best interest to simply quit her job and become more available to him. Was he serious or kidding? What would she do with her time? How would they explain their arrangement? What would happen after the relationship was over? These were all the questions that plagued her.
Frowning to herself, she stepped into the shower and let lukewarm water cascade over her skin. When she was finished, she stepped out of the shower and removed a huge white towel from the warming rack.
She turned on the curling iron and after she finished getting dressed and put on her makeup, styled her long hair into waves that framed her face and dipped toward her breasts on either side. She then added her horn-rimmed glasses and was ready for another day of work.
Andres wore a pair of boxer briefs and stood before the table with a strip of bacon in his hand. His dark hair was still uncombed, and a spattering of hair on his face.
She stopped before him and twirled. “What do you think?”
A roguish grin covered his face. “You’re like Superwoman. The glasses and the conservative dress are nice, but I know what’s underneath.” He tossed the bacon on the plate and approached.
Angela held a hand to his firm chest to hold him at bay. “Oh no, you don’t. I’m leaving.”
Princess of Estoria (Royal Brides Book 2) Page 9