“Father, I’m going to be dating Trent.”
Gregario looked from one to the other, and Maeve placed a hand on his arm. The princes didn’t even seem to care, which Trent found interesting.
Trent and Tess waited while the king studied them then at length. He said, “So you’ve chosen my daughter over me, over my money, over your business, and over your success in this whole region?” He toyed with his fork. “Over an entire sea of clients?”
Trent swallowed. “Yes, sir.”
He grunted, frowning. Then Maeve tapped his arm. “Oh, stop torturing them.” She stood. “What his highness means to say is he’s in love with you both. From the beginning he’s approved of Trent.”
“What?” Trent shook his head. “You were just messing with me?” Tess’s hand on his arm soothed his rising irritation.
“So, you approve?”
“Of course we do. If our country were in your shared hands, the rest of the Mediterranean wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Prince Alec coughed.
“Present company excluded, naturally.”
Trent turned to Tess. The happiness in her eyes matching his own. “Then, do I have your permission to ask Tess to marry me?” Did those words just exit his lips?
“Not yet.”
They whipped their heads to him. “What? Father, why not?”
“We need to get him working with some more of these nations first, not as my future son-in-law, but as a business consultant. Then we can make the announcement.”
Trent eyed him. “But privately we have your permission to move forward in whatever way we would like?”
“You do.”
Maeve stood and held out her hands. “Our permission and our blessing. Oh, come here. I’m so happy for you two.”
Tess ran to her mother and her father. Trent was soon enveloped in a Santorini family hug, and in their union, he felt like he’d come home.
Epilogue
Trent lifted his glass to a room full of his closest friends. The Torren royal family, including every Valdez brother, raised theirs in return. Tim, the guys on his Link Capital team, his parents, and a group of leaders of Mediterranean nations raised their glasses as well.
He’d become close to them all. His fellow rulers in the Mediterranean had included him in their social circles and, to his great amusement, a secret club—the Royal Princes Society. It reminded him of White’s in London, which Tess had said might send him an invitation to visit. He’d grown his team to help him manage the influx of new clients, and he could only see the numbers growing.
Tess melted into his side and lifted her glass beside his. “To Pantos!”
“To Pantos.” Everyone called back.
Tess lifted her face to his. He drank in her expression of joy, happy he’d helped put it there. “Wife.”
“Husband.”
“Does this mean I’m a prince?”
“Um.”
“I’m gonna go with yes.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“Oh no? I’m thinking we could make it a thing. Prince Trent.” He dipped his head. “I like it.”
“Do you, husband?” She stood on the tips of her toes, but he kept his mouth just out of reach. “Say it.”
“Prince Trent.” The title rolled off her tongue in a delicious manner.
He waited, staring into her eyes. His friends started to chant. Their wedding had been beautiful, everything just as it should be. But now, he was ready to go home. Their new home, for as long as they wanted it, sat on the palace grounds. It was another palace really, but they called it the Cottage, and they would be living there for the foreseeable future.
He lowered his lips to hers amidst cheering. He would support this incredible woman as she ruled their beautiful nation. And with their union they would be strong. His mouth smiled mid-kiss. “Life with you will be exceptional.”
The End
The royals in this book were first introduced in another series of eight that featured the Valdez family: Billionaire Royals. Chapters one and two of the first book, The Heir, follow.
Chapter One: The Heir
Jo Finley wiggled her toes with restless energy, contemplating two troublesome things. Ten years and nothing had changed in Shady Lake, South Carolina. And after a full week here, she did not once miss her boyfriend.
One year of dating and studying and catching most meals together, it felt…nice to be away. The more she thought about him, an awful dread grew and settled in her gut, that she was going to need to end things with Kevin.
She sat outside with her best friend in the beautiful weather of early March at the Tiki Rumble Marina restaurant. The water stretched out, calm and still to her front, an occasional fish rippling the mirror image. She let the calm seep inside. Heaven knows after the week she just had, she needed to relax.
A man approached the bar at her far right.
Her interest piqued. What she needed was a distraction.
His tall, broad body leaned over the top and he began a conversation with Sam, the bartender/ daytime chef. She only caught his profile, but for the first time in a long time, someone besides Kevin caught her eye. She checked him out, from his deck shoes, well defined calves--the man looked like a cyclist--tight shirt that stretched across his back, to his thick, blond hair. A happy twist warmed her insides, and she grinned.
Sierra sipped her drink, staring out across the boats in their slips at the docks behind them. “I’m happy you’re back, Jo. This town would be a sorry place if your Marina went under.”
Jo’s heart clenched, looking away--embarrassed, guilty, just plain sad, she hadn’t known her father had let things fall apart. “Thanks for clueing me in to how bad it’d gotten.”
Sierra’s eyes filled with concern. “Sorry I didn’t know sooner. How is he?”
Jo’s father was now on in-house hospice care. His dementia took a firm hold the moment Jo arrived home from school, as if he had held on strong as long as he could.
She swallowed a huge gulp of water to try to stem her tears. “He’s resting.”
“What will you do?”
She shrugged. She didn’t know, and she couldn’t talk about it anymore. She wanted to save the marina and take care of her father. But taking the leave of absence from her university was hard and highly unusual. Kevin had been understanding about a long distance relationship. She knew he was hoping to take things to the next level, and had hinted about marriage. Which, she reminded herself with a sigh, she would need to correct his expectations.
Sierra stood. “My break’s almost over. We still on for tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Sierra.” Jo stopped her before she walked away. Then she laughed, at a loss. How did you tell your best friend she was the absolute best? “Just thanks.”
They hugged for a long moment and Jo was so grateful again that her friend was around this summer.
“It’s going to be OK.” Sierra squeezed her extra tight.
“I think we need the full dose tonight.”
“You’re on. I’ll plan on staying the night.”
When Sierra left, Jo pulled out her latest book before she would need to get back to the financials. Lost in the chapter, the world around her faded until a shadow crossed her page. She shifted so the book was once again in the sunlight, but the shadow moved to further block her light, followed by a deep, shiver-causing chuckle.
She held a hand up to block the sun from her eyes and had to blink several times before she realized what she was seeing.
Deep electric blue eyes, thick blond hair, strong jawline, broad shoulders. The guy at the bar--so much better looking up close. He could be on the cover of any number of magazines.
“Is this seat taken?” His grin melted her insides.
Realizing she was staring, and a little hesitant at the intrusion, she stammered,
“Um yes, sure, I mean, no, it’s not taken.” She swallowed and slid her romance novel into her
deck bag, sure this guy might even be on the cover. Her face heated.
His tall frame enveloped one of the wide deck chairs at her table. “The view is stunning.” He pointed off to the left. “Especially that bit over there.”
She wished he would say more. His formal way of speaking, his precise pronunciation mixed with his deep, reverberating voice did things to her stomach. “It’s my favorite spot.” They both looked out over the water. Then the dreaded pause. She looked at him and then away. Awkward. Say something. A million thoughts raced through her mind, but none of them interesting. Ugh. I’ve never been good at talking to hot guys. I’m so over this. Kevin’s at least comfortable. She stood. “I need to get back to work.” Then she stopped. “Sorry, that sounded so…”
He shook his head. “I’ll never live it down.”
She stopped.
His eyes, filled with pretend sadness.
“What do you mean?”
“Scaring off a pretty lady so quickly. My brothers, when they get wind of this, they’ll torment me.”
She laughed, totally unsympathetic. She was sure there were plenty of women in the world pining for this guy. “Jo Finley.” She held out her hand.
His hand covered hers, his strong smooth palm cradling her own.
Comforting. Her small hand in his, felt safe.
He brought it to his lips and a zing of energy coursed up her arm.
Surprised, but not offended, she smiled at the old fashioned gesture.
“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Nick.” His accent was slight, and she couldn’t quite place it.
Greek? Italian, maybe Spanish. He looked like a sculpted Greek miracle, but with blond hair. If she weren’t tied to Kevin, she might get into this guy. She searched his open and confident face, eyes smiling at her, expectant. He knew the effect he had. Satisfaction that she wasn’t about to fall all over him like every other female made her smirk.
But he surprised her. He glanced down, his cheeks coloring. “I’m actually sorry for disturbing you. I admit to needing some assistance, and the guy at the bar said you would know.”
Her face heated in embarrassment for her thoughts. He wasn’t trying to hit on her. A tickle of hurt pride needled at her earlier satisfaction. Why wasn’t he? But she swallowed it down. “How can I help?”
“My store, a couple streets over. The Sweet Treats?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was told to find the key with Brand Wilson.”
“Oh, that’s easy. He’s likely in the gym. I’m headed that way if you want me to show you how to get there.”
He walked beside her and seemed more flustered than frustrated. She wondered how much experience he had running a store.
“You say you own it?” A prickle of dread nudged her. She loved Sweet Treats and couldn’t bear for it to become one more nationwide chain.
“I do, new purchase. I’m here to get it up and running better before I return home.”
Relief warmed her. “I’m happy to hear this. When the Dickersons had to sell, I worried we would lose the store. It’s a local icon. Spent all my money on treats there as a kid.”
They passed by her boat. “Let me just step in here and get my things.”
“Is this beauty yours?” His eyes appraised her.
“She is. We’ve had her since her first sail. Put all the hours on her ourselves.” She didn’t try to hide her grin of pride.
He stepped nearer and stooped to run his hand along the wood at their feet. “Such a beauty. Beautiful grain on the wood. They don’t make them like this anymore.” When he stood, he was much closer than before. “Will you take her out this week?”
“I hope to.” A gust of wind flew her hair all over the place. “I go out every day there’s a good wind.”
“A woman who knows her way around boats.” His eyes, friendly, inviting, warm. He reached up and moved an errant strand from her eyelashes.
She bit her lip. She could not get caught up in his charm. Kevin was smart and capable and handsome too, in his own nerdy way, and successful. And they were still a thing. And this guy, he knew his way around women like she did boats. She inched back, reaching for the railing, missed, and teetered on the edge of the dock.
“Woa, watch out.” Nick reached forward to steady her.
She threw her deck bag down at her feet as she lost balance.
His arm steadied her. But his foot rolled over the top of a water bottle. He barreled into her, and they tumbled over the edge into icy cold March lake water.
Horrified, she surfaced. “Oh! It’s cold!” Breathless, she tread water.
“Hold on.” Laughing, he reached a hand up to the decking and raised himself up.
Then lay across the boards lowering a hand for her. “Here!”
She reached for it, “Hurry!”
He pulled her up with one arm till she could reach the deck, then she tried to raise herself, lifting one leg up, pulling the rest of her body onto the wood. She sat up, water pooling under her and dripping through the slats, feeling absurd. Her white shirt clung, the lines of her embarrassingly floral bra clearly visible. She wrapped her arms across her chest.
He rummaged through a backpack and pulled out a sweatshirt, “Here. Put this on.” He shivered.
Then he pulled his dripping shirt off. It fell with a slop onto the deck. She averted her eyes from a solid, packed chest. Of course he had perfect abs. He shook his hair and ran a hand through it several times. And done. He looked perfect yet again. Oh to be a man.
She shivered. Hair hanging in her face, she felt like a drowned puppy. She pulled his sweatshirt over her head, stalling while it covered her face. It smelled like heaven. Her eyes peeked out. He was watching her with an amused quirk of his lips.
“Thank you.” Then she caught his eye and burst out laughing. “Hopefully the other residents go easier on you. Or maybe you get this kind of greeting from everyone?” She watched him, surprised at how much she wanted him to like her. He didn’t have to be in to her, but she did want him to be impressed.
He winked. “No, not at all. I’m sorry I didn’t catch you.”
“It’s my fault.” She shook her head and moved to stand, embarrassment starting to take over. She wanted to hurry into the boat and hide.
He reached to help her up. “Your skin is ice.”
“I have to get out of these clothes.”
“Of course, I’ll wait.”
She turned to him in surprise, tilting her head, eyebrows raised.
Then he reddened, a delicious and charming blush spread down to his neck. “No.” He laughed. “You were gonna show me?” He pointed up the dock toward the shops.
She waved her hand. “Oh right. The gym. It’s easy. Up there on the right. If you ask at the front desk, they can tell you where Brand is.”
He hesitated. “I’m here through the summer. I’d love to get to know the town, the people, become a part of things.”
She liked that. So many came for the summer and stuck to themselves and then left again. Here was a man trying to make his mark. And anyone who could save Sweet Treats was a friend.
“It’s a family town, really, but there are a few of us singles around still.”
“Could I join you sometime?”
She searched his face. He seemed open, friendly, perhaps just interested in a group of friends to pass the summer.
“Of course.” She reached into her purse. “Here’s my card. It has my school address but the phone number is my cell.”
“Vanderbilt? MBA. Excellent.” He appraised her with open admiration and a newer spark of interest. So he was into boats and smart girls. Maybe they had more in common than she thought.
“Thank you. I’m almost finished, trying to complete a fellowship there.”
His mouth turned down. “See, you are exactly the kind of person who should be running my store.”
When she tipped her head in question, he shrugged.
“I was just regretting my history major and doctorate in int
ernational affairs.”
“What! No, that’s excellent. I’m sure you can figure it out.” She shifted her deck bag to the other shoulder. “I do have some experience with business ownership if you want to talk some things through with me.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I’d like that.” He walked down the dock from her, then paused and came back. Leaning in so that his crisp smell of soap filled the air around them. “You are shivering. I’m sorry. I promise, I’m going.” He waited until she was looking into his eyes. A thrill rose inside at their closeness and she curled her toes in her wet sandals.
“I’m not only looking for business talk, or help in finding the key to my store.” His eyes studied hers and a soft twinkle grew in them. “Fate’s been good to me today. The first knowledgeable and intelligent person I meet on this peninsula is also a beautiful woman.”
She grinned before she could stop herself. How long had it been since she had been so thoroughly complimented?
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Give me a call.”
He winked and turned to walk away.
Chapter two follows. Or to read the whole thing, go HERE.
Chapter Two: The Heir
Nick rotated his shoulders, walking from Sweet Treats, down the docks to his boat. Even after the physical work of running his sailboat, or the workouts his trainer put him through, or his time spent in the military for his country, his muscles still ached from one day working in retail. Standing all day, shifting boxes of product around, setting up displays. He was sore and exhausted. All he wanted was Ginny, his masseuse, and then a long soak, with hot tub jets powering into his muscles.
He groaned. Unfortunately neither was anywhere near Shady Lake, Texas. Instead, he was heading to the cramped quarters of the boat he had chartered for the summer, a far cry from even his smallest yacht. And he would return to the store tomorrow and the next day, and every day this summer.
The town of Shady Lake filled a peninsula on the edge of a large bay. The entrance to the bay so small many considered it a lake, and in fact, the water became less salty the further in to the bay you went. Few knew about this stunning gem, a perfect place for him to hide.
Her Billionaire Bellboy Page 10