The Reckless Prince (Royal Billionaires of Mondragón Book 4)

by Jewel Allen

  Whatever were we talking about? Oh yes, there’s a game on the field. The children need me out there.

  His lips look so soft.

  He bit his lip and raised his finger slowly. Past his lips and nose and eyes, until he tapped his bandage.

  Right, he needs a kiss on his boo-boo.

  I swallowed and framed his face in my hands. His scruff felt good on the pads of my hands. I pulled his head down, his breath burning a path along my sensitive throat.

  I planted a soft kiss on his eyebrow.

  Just as a whistle blew.

  My eyes flew open. “I have to be out there!”

  Raising his head, he moved past my cheek as he leaned to one side. He pressed his lips against my ear. “We’ll talk soon.”

  As I walked in a daze to join Mike and our kids in a coin flip, Cherise hung on to my arm.

  “Oh my goodness, you two,” she moaned.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Diego

  Gemma was the cutest coach around, hands down. Once the game started, she turned serious, barely looking at me. But when she did, her nostrils flared and her cheeks turned pink, so I knew I still affected her. Good. We were even.

  The nice thing about watching her coach was I could get my fill of looking at her without her feeling uncomfortable.

  In just the two weeks we hadn’t seen each other, her tan had deepened. Her hair, swinging in a ponytail under her baseball cap, was streaked with sun highlights. Her cute figure looked good in those shorts and athletic fitted shirt.

  I love her.

  And those kids. They ran around with game faces, elevating this match from herd ball to nice passing. Santosh took his job seriously, watching every scuffle, his knees bent at the ready.

  I walked over there, behind the net, trying not to distract him but available, just in case he needed extra coaching. A goal got past him, and he threw himself on the ground.

  Like I did at my game earlier that day.

  Oh man, that hurts. “Santosh,” I called out.

  He raised his head and looked over his shoulder, blinking. Grass was stuck in his black hair.

  “Brush it off, kid. You’re doing great. Don’t come out too early. Wait a second for the ball to come to you, and then move where you think it will be.”

  He nodded, flashing me a brief smile. A regrouping smile that said he was ready to not just try, but he would deny.

  I clapped and yelled, “Okay, let’s do this!”

  Gemma

  At the last possible second, Mike’s team scored on us. Santosh hung his head, his thin body racked in sobs. I wanted to run over to him, but Diego was already there, putting a hand on his shoulder.

  It was one of those days when I wished things could have turned out different. We finished the game on a draw, 3-3. Not bad at all, but a solid win would have been nice.

  Mike gloated like they’d won, and I suppose in a way they did. I knew he wouldn’t have liked being beat, and a draw allowed him and Jason to save face.

  “Better luck next time,” he said in a snide tone. I could have sassed him back, but I didn’t care about that, to be honest.

  Diego was here.

  I talked to each kid on our team, giving Santosh an extra-long hug and words of encouragement. I shook hands with parents, who thanked me for helping their children, and not just for this soccer camp season.

  I might have been a crying mess at the end. Cherise and I both, blubbering in our shirt sleeves.

  She hugged me. “Great job, Gemma. So proud of you. Way to kick butt.”

  “Thanks for sticking it out with me.”

  “Of course.” She darted a glance behind me. I was sure I knew who she was looking at. “Well, good luck.” Her hand tightened on my arm, and then she let me go. “And call me.”

  Everyone had left except for Diego. As he turned to me, I swiveled so I was facing the goal. The nets needed to be taken down for the night.

  Good excuse to not have to deal with Diego right away. I was still trying to pull together my thoughts and feelings. They were all jumbled up.

  I couldn’t reach the net very easily, a disadvantage of being short. Reaching up once again, I gasped as big strong hands grabbed me at the waist and hoisted me up. I looked under me to see Diego’s goofy grin.

  With shaking fingers, I took the net off the hooks.

  Diego repeated the maneuver three other times until the net lay on the ground. We could take care of that later. Meanwhile, he set me down and spun me so that I faced him.

  My hands landed on his shirt covering his sculpted chest, his muscular body warm under my fingertips. I could feel his heart pounding wildly, like he’d been running. It matched the drumbeat of my own.

  I gazed into his eyes. “You came back.”

  He smiled. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

  “I didn’t think,” I confessed. “I mostly missed you. When I was trying to beat you back from my mind.”

  His gaze searched mine. “I missed you.” His voice deepened. “A lot.”

  I loved the feel of his shirt. I moved my hands ever so slightly, and my heart squeezed when I felt him tremble.

  “Why did you leave?” His voice was hoarse.

  “I explained, in that letter.”

  He gripped my wrists. “I read it over and over, and it still didn’t make sense. Why did you let my mother scare you off?”

  “She’s probably a nice lady,” I said, trying to be diplomatic. “But she kind of scared me. She said…” I trailed off. “But I don’t want to speak badly of your mother.”

  “It’s okay. Tell me what she said.”

  I took a deep breath. “I’m sure she meant well. She said even after you married, women will always chase after you. Also, there’s the matter of Adele.”

  “Who does not matter to me, you know that, right?”

  “I know it.”

  “I mean, you believe it?”

  “I want to. Yes.”

  He looked deep in my eyes. “You don’t need to worry about her—or any other woman—now or ever. You’re the only woman I’ll ever want.”

  I swallowed, trying to keep tears from spilling out. I had been so consumed by her. But Diego’s reassurance felt real. And right.

  “As for my mother.” He shook his head. “She gets bossy.”

  “Like most mothers.” I smiled.

  “I talked to her, and she has no objection to our relationship.”

  A warmth spread through my chest.

  He touched my cheek. “I have to know…was your mom bossy?”

  My heart contracted as I thought of Mom. “Not really. I mean, she would insist on feeding people. But she was kind of easy-going.”

  He searched my eyes. “So where did you get your fierceness from?”

  “Just growing up as the only multi-racial family around, I guess. Sometimes people just couldn’t see you for who you are inside.”

  He traced a finger on my cheek, and I melted against it. “I see you.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned into his hand. A tear slipped from my eye, and he caught it with his thumb in a gentle caress.

  “Where does this leave us?” I whispered.

  “I’d like another chance.” He looked deep into my eyes. “If you’ll have me.”

  “Everyone deserves a second chance. Even me?” I hoped he could see the apology in my eyes.

  He nodded and rested his forehead on mine. “Even you.” He kissed my temple.

  “Is your boo-boo better?” I teased.

  He didn’t answer for a long moment, and then he tapped his heart. “One more big boo-boo.”

  My breath hitched. He was so cute. I raised my eyes to his then down to his chest. Leaning forward, I pressed my lips against his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin seep through. Feeling his heart rev even more.

  With a little groan, he slid his hand under my ponytail and pulled me to my toes, capturing my mouth in a hungry kiss. All my longing from the past several days surge
d to the surface. I clung to him and kissed him back until my world spun, and I knew I belonged in his arms.

  After a few more delicious kisses, he enveloped me in his embrace and kissed the top of my head. There was no defense to breach. He was mine, and I was his.

  Goooooal!

  Epilogue

  Mateo

  Four months later in Mondragón

  I took my motorcycle helmet off and set it on the black seat. The Mediterranean sun bore down on me amidst that dry, early autumn heat. I could sure use a tall cool drink, but I knew I had to keep going or I would miss Diego’s wedding.

  It had been at least five years since I was disinherited.

  That’s how long I’d been away from home. And by all appearances—with the groomed Mondragón castle grounds and the row of luxury cars parked along the sweeping driveway, one would have thought my family had killed the fatted calf for the prodigal son.

  I knew better. I had given them no indication I was coming. They were probably expecting I would pull the same thing I’d done with everyone else’s weddings previous to this: a no-show.

  My designer tux moved with me as I strode from my motorcycle to the entrance of the estate. Wearing nice clothes felt like second nature…and unfamiliar, all at once. I smoothed my helmet hair and adjusted my bow tie before continuing on.

  As I walked past trees turning brilliant shades of red and orange, I noted again that nothing much had changed. Maybe the trees were taller.

  But something did feel different.

  I felt different.

  All these trappings of wealth were just…things. None of these mattered in the grander scheme.

  Not the castle. Not the money. Not the cars.

  Without liberty and dignity, everything was just a flimsy sham.

  I could have been the next in line for all this, but now, I had little desire to take on that stifling role. Thank goodness my older brother Jay was around to take the helm.

  I kept walking, searching for this wedding. The invitation said nothing about where the ceremony itself would be held on the grounds, but I had my guesses.

  Soldiers in their ceremonial uniforms, accented in the yellow and reds of our family’s royal crest, stood on guard along the front of the castle and at the main entrance. A few of them studied me, their eyes widening and then snapping back at attention.

  One of them clicked his heels and gasped, “Prince Mateo! Welcome home. At your service!”

  “Relax, man. You’re good.”

  There was a little nod of acknowledgment. A gleam of relief.

  I walked on past the coterie of guards to the side of the castle where railings of fresh flowers guided me along a path strewn with petals. A waste, really, but a staple of weddings, from what I understand.

  The crowd was already gathered on a vast expanse of lawn, facing away from me. The craggy outline of Mondragón’s mountain range rose in the mist. The happy couple gazed into each other’s eyes, and everyone was clapping. They must have just kissed.

  I was disappointed I missed it all, but I was glad my arrival wasn’t going to distract. It wouldn’t have been fair to Diego nor his lovely bride.

  I came to a standstill, just behind the last row of seats. Some people craned their necks and took note of my presence. A whispering started to rumble until it rose to a pitch hard to ignore.

  Diego turned and caught sight of me, his mouth slowly breaking into a grin. He whispered something to his dark-haired bride, who nodded and gave me a warm smile as well. I liked her already.

  I nodded and gave them a thumbs-up.

  In the front row, there was a bit of a commotion. A woman in a light blue dress and matching hat was standing, leaning against another woman’s arm for support. Fanning herself.

  Mother.

  There would be some catching up to do. Healing wounds. Making amends.

  And then someone else stood. A woman from my recent past.

  After a few painful heartbeats, my scarred, cynical heart started to come alive again. She held her elegant blonde head up high, as befitting her tall stature.

  Through the distance, in the crowd, her eyes burned.

  With recognition. Hurt. Yearning.

  Just like I felt.

  TO BE CONTINUED…

  Oh, wow. What happens in this *last* installment in the Royal Billionaires of Mondragón series? Find out here.

  I hope you have enjoyed the stories of these royal brothers as I have enjoyed writing them. I am kind of sad for this branch of the series to almost draw to a close. Let me know what you think of the books by leaving a review here. Thank you!