“I hope you know that kiss with Sophie didn’t mean anything to me.” Ashton glanced over my shoulder and said quietly, “I want more time alone with you, Brielle. Not your sister.”
Sophie arrived a heartbeat later, before I could muster up a response. She laced her fingers through Ashton’s and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Thank you for stepping in to help Bree.”
Ashton looked over at me, his eyes blazing with sincerity. “Any time.”
Heat flushed my cheeks. I offered a small smile of gratitude, then turned to head back down the beach for my coverup and sunglasses.
Kyle paused on his way past me, his board tucked under one arm, and turned a disgruntled eye my way. “It looks like I picked the wrong twin. If I’d known you were such a prude I never would have bothered.”
I continued walking as if I hadn’t heard him, but Sophie wasn’t willing to let him get away with such a comment. She chased after him with scathing remarks and a sharp tongue-lashing. Ashton fell into step beside me but didn’t speak as we walked along the shoreline, the tide washing in and out over our bare feet.
When we reached my pile of belongings, Ashton gently touched my arm. “Don’t listen to what that idiot said.”
“I won’t,” I answered quietly, refusing to look at him. “I’m used to it.”
“What does that mean?” He held me in place with a hand on my shoulder and tipped my face up with the other. My reluctant gaze finally met his. “Brielle, have other people said things like that to you before?”
“It’s okay, Ashton. I’m fine, really.” I shrugged his hand away and took a step back, feeling unhinged over being this close to him. “With a sister as amazing as Sophie, I’m used to being overlooked.”
Ashton looked at me curiously. He opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to change his mind when Sophie appeared at his elbow. She chattered on in continued outrage over what Kyle had said and sent me more than one sympathetic glance. I gathered my things and followed them to the BMW we’d driven down to the beach.
The royal guards were already waiting in the black sedan behind our car as Sophie climbed into the front passenger seat. I grabbed the door handle, but Ashton stopped me with a hand on mine. I looked up at him in question.
He was standing close to my side, his head lowered toward me and blue eyes fixed on my face. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and earnest. “I understand what you mean about being overlooked because of a sibling. Sometimes I feel the same way.” He briefly squeezed my hand and dazzled me with his dimpled smile. “And for the record, I’m not overlooking you.”
The drive to the palace passed by in a blur, my thoughts centered on his parting words. Of course Ashton would understand how it felt to be overlooked. As the second-born son he was often overshadowed by Alexander, the heir apparent of Coradova. He knew better than most how it felt to be outshined by a sibling.
That tidbit of knowledge resonated within me. I felt my heart soften toward him as another piece of my barrier was chipped away. If I wasn’t careful, Ashton might be able to tear down my carefully built walls and claim a piece of my heart.
Chapter Seven
A delighted squeal echoed through the trees surrounding us. Shifting on the log, I glanced over my shoulder to see Mackenzie holding an acoustic guitar, with her hopeful brown centered eyes on me. My heart sank into my stomach like a lead ball.
Before I could object, Sophie took the guitar from Mackenzie and flounced over to my spot on the fallen log. She held out the guitar with pleading brown eyes and a pouting lower lip. “Please, Bree?” she implored. “I’ll be forever grateful.”
I groaned and shot her a dirty look, knowing I could never seem to deny her anything. She merely grinned in triumph when I took the guitar and sat beside me on the log. Sighing, I plucked at the strings and took a few minutes to make sure it was properly tuned. I didn’t really enjoy being in the spotlight, and felt extra self-conscious about playing guitar for a group of royalty.
We were picnicking near a stream in the mountains with Mackenzie, Alexander and Madison, Arianna and Bennett, and Ashton. After a short hike along a popular scenic hiking trail, we’d returned to the clearing near our parked cars, spread out a few blankets and feasted on a delicious picnic lunch packed by the royal chef. Eight royal guards surrounded our group, blending into the shadows of the trees, eyes alert and roving.
My fingers began strumming a favorite, beloved melody, filling the clearing with soft music.
A moment later, Ashton spoke. “You are full of surprises, Brielle.”
I blushed and peeked up at his face, knowing he wouldn’t be so awed by my guitar playing skills once Sophie began to sing. Sure enough, his eyes snapped to her face when her beautiful voice sang out like rich honey. Everyone gazed at her in wonderment and I smiled softly, knowing full well how captivating my twin was.
My gaze dropped down to focus on the strings instead of their expressions. I played several songs to the accompaniment of Sophie’s lovely voice, the music swirling around and through me. My eyes closed as I felt each note reach out to touch my grieving, broken heart. Music always reminded me of my mother. She had loved to sing and dance and had taught all three of her children a love for music early on. It was the last connection I had to her … one of the only things left that truly allowed me to feel close to her.
Sadness tinged the notes of the next song, tugging at my melancholy heart. I fought against the tears that brimmed and threatened to escape, and lowered my head in an attempt to hide my face. When the last note lingered poignantly on the air, I bent low over the guitar and took a deep, shuddering breath. Applause erupted from the couples on the blanket as everyone praised Sophie in the same babbling breath.
Leaving the guitar against the log, I rose to my feet and quickly moved away from the picnic blankets, seeking solitude in a nearby cluster of trees. When I was safely hidden behind a thick oak tree, I leaned back against the trunk for support and finally allowed the tears to stream down my cheeks. The sharp pain in my chest was overwhelming. Mom, I wish you could be here …
Lost in the torrent of my heartache, I didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until it was too late. The tall, dark-haired prince suddenly appeared at my side, his eyes instantly taking in my tear-streaked face. I sucked in a hiccuping sob and turned away, rubbing my hand over my eyes in an effort to wipe away the moisture, even though he’d already spotted my tears.
“Bree …” Ashton’s voice was thick with compassion. “Come here, ma chérie.” He drew me into his strong, warm embrace. I didn’t even bother trying to resist.
It had been so long since someone had held me in their arms in a gesture of comfort. I was desperate for the solace he was offering. Ashton seemed able to slip through my barriers without even trying. His compassion and consideration drew me to him like a magnetic pull. It felt nice to have someone hold me, to make me feel loved and safe—but why did it have to be Ashton? Why was I drawn to the one person I couldn’t allow to touch my heart?
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into his shirt, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sure you don’t want me blubbering all over you.”
“It’s all right, Bree.” Ashton stroked a hand down my back and held me in place when I tried to move away. “Take all the time you need.”
Feeling like I owed him an explanation, I whispered, “The music reminds me of my mom. She loved to sing and dance, so whenever I hear music it makes me think of her.”
Ashton hugged me tighter, one hand resting on the back of my head. “I’m sorry about your mother. Sophie told me that she passed away from cervical cancer last year.”
I nodded into his chest. “She was sick for two years. She had a hysterectomy, and both chemo and radiation, but none of the treatments worked.” My fingers curled into fists around the back of his shirt, pain lancing through me at the memories. “She spent the last year at home. No more treatments, no more tests. Every day I watched her grow weaker, her life fading before my very eyes
… until one day she fell asleep and never woke up.”
My eyes closed, more tears slipping down my cheeks. Ashton pressed a warm kiss to my forehead and just held me, his silent embrace alone offering more comfort than words ever could. It was several moments later before I finally felt able to move away from him. I reluctantly slid out of his arms and looked up at his face.
His eyes were shadowed, and the concern on his face made my heart clench. Slowly, Ashton raised a hand to my cheek and carefully wiped away a remaining tear. “Sophie said you never cry, even on the day you buried your mom.”
“That’s because I never let anyone see me cry.” I smiled wryly and shrugged one pitiful shoulder. “Usually.”
Dark blue eyes met mine, looking at me in a new light. “There’s so much of you that you keep hidden,” Ashton murmured, stepping closer, his hand cupping my cheek. “When are you going to let someone else in, Brielle? When are you going to let someone love you?”
My breath lodged in my throat at the emotion in his eyes. Ashton truly seemed to care about me. I was terrified that his compassion was going to demolish the walls around my heart. I couldn’t afford to let him in. I couldn’t afford to let anyone in.
“I don’t know if I can,” I answered breathlessly.
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t give someone the power to break me.” My mouth curved in a sad smile. “My heart is too fragile. I can’t risk anymore heartbreak.”
His hand on my cheek was soft and his gaze tender. “You can if it’s the right person. Not everyone will break your heart, Brielle.”
The snap of a twig drew my attention. I stepped away from Ashton, letting his hand fall away from my face, and turned to see Sophie standing at the edge of the trees.
Her brown eyes glared daggers at me. “Ashton, can I please talk to my sister alone?” Sophie asked as she approached and took hold of my arm.
Ashton glanced between us, looking uncertain, then nodded his head in silent acquiescence. He slipped away into the shadows, leaving me alone with my jealous, livid sister.
“What were you doing?” Sophie demanded the moment he was gone.
“Nothing, Soph. We were just talking.”
“Then why was he touching your face? Is there something going on between you two?”
There would be if it wasn’t for you, I wanted to shout at her. Outrage flared through me, mingling with the heartache. I pressed my lips into a hard line, trying to hold back the angry retort I wanted to fling at her. I let out a frustrated breath, then said softly instead, “You know I would never do anything like that, Sophie. Ashton was concerned because I was feeling sad about Mom.”
“Oh,” Sophie puffed out, her anger deflating. “I’m sorry, Bree. I shouldn’t have said that.” She hooked an arm through mine and hesitated. “I need to tell you something. It … makes me a little jealous to see you with Ashton,” she admitted, her expression unusually vulnerable. “It’s a twin thing, I guess—because we’re identical. I think I’m falling in love with him, Brielle. But if Ashton gets to know how wonderful you are, I’m afraid he’s going to fall in love with you instead.”
I turned to take her hands in mine, my heart filled with compassion. “Sophie, you’re the fun and exciting twin and I’m the practical, quiet one. What could Ashton possibly see in me?” My words echoed the insecurities from within my heart.
Sophie frowned. “You’ve clearly never noticed the way he looks at you. He’s more drawn to you than you think, Brielle.” She stared off into the trees, her expression troubled. “He’s distant and hard to read; most of the time I can’t even tell how he feels about me. I know we aren’t actually dating, but I’d hoped that maybe we were heading in that direction. But lately, even though he’s never really been mine, it still feels like he’s slipping away.” She shook her head as if to dispel the troubling thoughts and forced a brilliant smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Worrying about it won’t change anything. Let’s go back.”
We rejoined the group to find them packing up the remnants of our picnic lunch. Ashton’s gaze focused on us the moment we appeared, his brow slightly creased and concern obvious in his dark blue eyes. I tried to ignore the way my heart leaped at the sight of him, belying the reassuring words I’d spoken earlier to Sophie. Despite my growing attraction to Ashton, I would never allow my feelings for him to get in the way of my sister’s happiness.
Ashton could be my friend and nothing more.
Chapter Eight
Every year the king and queen hosted a Summer Ball for the people of Coradova, inviting both nobility and commoners alike. First, there would be a meet-and-greet in the ballroom, followed by a lavish five-course dinner, and dancing until the early hours of the morning.
It had been nearly a week since our arrival in Coradova. Tonight we were attending our first royal ball, and a delighted Sophie was beyond thrilled. My own excitement was building, curling through my stomach in eager waves as I followed Arianna, Mackenzie and Sophie through the door into Alexander and Madison’s private suite.
“Wow,” I breathed, looking around the sitting room decorated in earthy shades of blue and brown. A dark leather couch and two armchairs flanked the massive floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace. The masculine decor was toned down by the paisley-patterned throw pillows and plush cream-colored area rug, as well as by the multiple vases that were scattered around the room, brimming with various roses, daisies and carnations.
On the center of a rustic, hand-carved coffee table was a crystal vase filled with lilacs and baby’s breath flowers. I was reaching out to touch one of the delicate petals when Madison entered the room.
Her gaze drifted over the bouquet of lilacs and her expression softened. “Alex surprised me with those this morning,” she said, coming to stand at my side. “Lilacs are my favorite flower.”
“That is so romantic,” Sophie crooned, linking an arm through mine. “What’s it like being married to a prince?”
Madison laughed, the sound a mixture between amusement and chagrin. “It has its perks.” She gestured at the surrounding room, her mouth quirked in a smile. “I get to live in a beautiful, fairytale palace with the man of my dreams … but there’s so much more to being a princess.”
At first, Madison’s engagement to Prince Alexander had not been well-received by the people and she’d fought an uphill battle trying to win their approval. In the process, she’d learned that being a princess was more than just dressing up and smiling for the cameras.
“You have a lot of responsibilities,” I acknowledged.
“Yes. A lot of responsibilities and expectations.” Madison and Arianna shared a look before the newest princess moved into an adjoining room and waved at us to follow. “This is my personal dressing room.”
A dark mahogany vanity, complete with long mirror and cushioned bench, sat against one of the walls opposite a small sitting area with beige leather furniture and floral pillows.
“It’s bigger than my bedroom at home,” I teased, admiring the crystal chandelier dangling from the center of the room.
Madison’s face flushed and her smile grew sheepish. “Yes, well … I have my own entourage now that I’m married to the crown prince. It takes an army to get me ready for a royal engagement.”
She opened the door on the far wall, revealing a walk-in closet with rows of gowns, dresses, shirts and jackets. Purses and scarves dangled from hooks, and wide drawers were filled with more clothes and various intimates. A three-tiered shelf sported collections of jewelry, sunglasses and hair accessories. Rows of lower shelving held more shoes than Sophie, Mackenzie and I owned combined.
“This closet is amazing,” Sophie gushed, eyes wide in admiration. “I could live in here.”
“I’ve tried to convince my parents that I need a closet like this at home,” Mackenzie said, thumbing through a section of dresses. Her sigh was thick with disappointment. “But they’re not buying it.”
Madison and I exchanged smile
s. Out of the four of us, it was Mackenzie and Sophie who had always loved getting dolled up in fancy clothes and layers of makeup. We were the more down-to-earth, run around barefoot kind of girls—and now, Princess Madison was married to the Crown Prince of Coradova.
A knock preceded two dark-haired women into the dressing room. They curtsied in unison and showered us with matching smiles.
“Bonjour, Angelina et Marguerite,” Madison welcomed them in flawless French. “Nous sommes prêts.” She turned a beaming smile on us. “These are my lady’s maids, Angelina and Marguerite. They’re here to help us get ready for the ball in royal fashion.”
Sophie and Mackenzie squeaked in delight and rushed into the closet to look through Madison’s elegant evening gowns. Two hours later, my hair was styled in side-swept curls and makeup done in shades of blushing pink and cream.
I wandered down the long row of evening gowns and ran a hand across the smooth fabric of each gorgeous piece, admiring the layers and shades of colors. Pausing, I pulled back my hand to examine the calloused, work-roughened palms and sighed, knowing that even my recent manicure couldn’t hide the signs of a working country girl.
Madison helped me choose a gown—a shimmering, golden floor-length mermaid style. I slipped it on, the satin smooth as butter, and spun around to admire it in the standing mirror. A sweetheart appliquéd bodice and small capped sleeves buttoned over the back of my neck, exposing the skin of my back.
“I’ve never worn anything like this before,” I said softly to Madison’s reflection over my shoulder. She was stunning in her strapless ball gown of pale pink. Diamonds sparkled around her neck and ears, and her brown hair was pinned away from her face with a crystal hair clip.
Madison smiled in understanding. She clasped a simple teardrop diamond around my neck and gently squeezed my shoulders. “Every girl deserves to feel beautiful.”
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