European Billionaire Beaus: The Complete Series

by North, Leslie

  The information was interesting, but it was...more than a little strange, the way Dina was looking at him, as if she was dropping a hint she wanted him to pick up.

  “Twenty lovers?” Amy had come alongside him and he wanted to wrap his arm around her, use her as a shield against the predatory look in Dina’s eye. “Busy, busy woman.”

  “Oh yes.” Dina flicked her eyes over Amy dismissively, then went past them both, brushing Artur’s shoulder as she did so. “And this window here is known as the lovers’ window.” It was a narrow window made from stained glass, set into the stones next to the balcony. “Those who weren’t so fortunate to have access to the passageway used to stand beneath the window, hoping for favor from the queen.” Dina looked utterly noble next to the window. The photographer in him admired the image even as the man in him felt zero interest. “What would you say to a photo?” She beckoned with her fingers to Artur, whose feet felt like they’d been filled with lead as he went to pose in front of the window. Those few steps were all the time Dina needed to produce a phone from her hand and hold it out, leaning in close and wrapping a hand around Artur’s bicep. “Strong,” she commented, smiling up at the phone. “I’m not as strong, of course, but I still love staying fit by rowing whenever I can. Even competitively, on the odd weekend.”

  Rowing? It was one of the royal family’s well-known hobbies.

  “Oh, yes?” Artur said, looking past the phone.

  Where had Amy gone? She was no longer standing by the four-poster bed.

  “Yes. Very competitively, when my blood gets hot.” Dina lowered the phone to her side. “Now that your assistant has made herself scarce, we can get on with our private tour.”

  It clicked into place for Artur, then—the lack of press for this event, the way Dina had been flirting so aggressively. This was a first date.

  * * *

  Artur hardly saw the gorgeous castle grounds. Even the way the mist hung over the castle like a shimmering curtain had lost its appeal. He didn’t register any more of the insider details Dina murmured into his ear. He was too busy grappling with his realization.

  He’d told Amy that he didn’t want the tour to turn into a dating show—with him as the star and the whole nation watching as it was recorded by the press. Well, apparently, she’d taken him at his word. The press wasn’t here. Pity she’d ignored the rest of it.

  This was not what he’d had in mind for the day. All he wanted was to be with Amy again.

  By lunch, it seemed even Dina had picked up on his utter disinterest in her. Artur settled into a spot at the long dining table, now filled with members of the town’s tourism committee, and spotted Amy at the other end. The sight of her made him feel like he could breathe again.

  Next to him, Dina sat up straight in her seat, her eyes appraising. “There was one more thing I wanted to bring to your attention, Prince Artur.”

  “Yes? What’s that?”

  “Exposure.” Thank God there wasn’t a hint of flirtation on Dina’s face any longer. “Belinsky needs more ways to appeal to travelers in Stolvenia. Our location is out of the way, so we don’t get nearly enough foot traffic to sustain the kind of upkeep the castle requires.”

  “It does seem to be on an island of its own,” Artur agreed. The tension in the base of his spine dissipated a little, now that they were on more professional ground.

  “One easy change would be to add the castle to the register of historic castles on Stolvenia’s main tourism website. I’ve emailed several people but have yet to see a change.”

  “I can make that a priority.”

  “And...” Dina leaned back to allow one of the waiters to put the salad course in front of her. “We do need some direct assistance from the royal family. There is a certain designation that can only be given by the royal family—a seal, if you will, and it would allow us to join a castle tour given by companies endorsed by the family itself.”

  “I’ve heard of that,” Artur said, though he couldn’t have provided many more details. He’d never had reason to care about those kinds of things. “But tell me—this place. How could it not already have a designation? I was here when it was reopened years ago, so I would have thought—”

  Dina shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure. What I do know is that it’s nearly impossible to communicate with the royal family or its representatives through official channels. I expect that’s why my emails have gone unanswered.” She looked Artur in the eye. “Not that I’m...trying to be rude. It’s not like I expect a response from the king. But from any representative, any word, would be...a step in the right direction.”

  Artur had his fork nearly to the salad, but stopped. The difficulty of getting a message directly to the royal family was one thing Amy had pointed out, and he hadn’t believed her. Yet here was a citizen of Stolvenia, saying the same thing. And Dina did not seem to be a woman who was easily discouraged.

  “I’m not familiar with all of the procedures, of course—but I know we have ways to address legal concerns, health concerns, safety concerns, those kinds of things.” He searched his mind. “I know that’s always been important to my brother. But clearly, we’ve had a blind spot. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.” It was obvious, now that she’d pointed it out. Having a monarchy meant that the government was rather nimble, since they didn’t have to haggle with multiple branches of government for every decision. But the lack of bureaucracy meant that some departments got limited personal attention. Things like castle designations weren’t likely to come up organically in the king’s mind.

  “You’re welcome,” said Dina.

  They spent the rest of the meal discussing future plans for the castle, and when they shook hands and parted ways, Artur didn’t feel half bad about how it had ended up. Even if Amy had wanted it to be a romantic encounter.

  But had she really?

  He found her in the gift shop tucked into one of the side rooms on the main floor, looking at a miniature version of the lover’s window.

  “Beautiful,” he said, though he really meant it about her.

  “It is.” Amy frowned slightly, looking at the little model. Painted glass, between tiny stones.

  “Perhaps I should buy two of them for Armin’s adopted daughters, Lily and Seraphine. They are new to the country, and I want to help them learn about the culture and history here.” Another thought floated to the front of his mind. “Maybe you’d like to get one for the baby. It might be nice if the child grew up with some tokens from our nation.”

  Her face brightened. “It is a good idea. I’ll get one. I could collect things from the tour, and have a story to tell our daughter later.”

  “You know, I heard that it’s good luck to kiss in front of the window.”

  Amy laughed. “This isn’t a real window.”

  “You’re splitting hairs. Better to kiss than tempt fate.”

  She pushed him playfully away, then picked up the small model and marched to the checkout desk. But it was too late. Artur had already breathed her in and wanted more.

  As they walked side by side toward the door of the castle, he saw his chance. “Look—”

  “At what?” Amy said as he pulled her into a darkened alcove.

  He pretended to peer around. “I guess there’s nothing worth seeing in here. Except you.” Then he leaned down and did what he’d wanted to do all day—kissed her. Hard.

  “Oh—” He caught her little moan in his mouth as Amy threw her arms around his neck, melting into him. It was so delicious until—

  Footsteps.

  Footsteps approached, and Amy tugged at his hand, pulling them back out into the light. Down the hall, the shopkeeper from the gift shop was going in the opposite direction. Amy reached up and smoothed the front of his jacket. “Careful,” she said. “Or we’re going to get caught.”

  8

  The cliffs at Primorsky the next day were breathtaking, especially with the summer sun glittering on the waves that crashed against the
rocks beneath them. Amy and Artur had taken in the view while they walked to the welcome center, and she was invigorated as she stepped inside to look at the gift shop offerings there while Prince Artur posed for a few pictures with the press gaggle outside. After the way yesterday had played out, with very little involvement from the press, Amy had readjusted. The dates could happen with a couple of cameras following along. They should happen that way.

  In the meantime, she’d already found the perfect ornament for her new collection. Amy wasn’t usually the type to buy lots of trinkets when she traveled, but she could already see these things perched on a little dresser in the baby’s room. The woman behind the counter at the shop wrapped it carefully and boxed it up, and Amy slipped the box into her purse. Artur’s idea had been perfect. Almost as perfect as his kiss.

  The door opened and she turned with the compliment on her lips, ready to thank him for his idea, when she registered that he wasn’t alone.

  Amy had chosen Veronica Angeloff for her impressive resume, but in person she was...even more impressive. As in, she was stunning. She had auburn hair that matched Prince Artur’s and dancing brown eyes, and the two of them were already deep in conversation about the marine life around Primorsky. Amy’s heart did a funny little twist. She hadn’t known Artur was that interested in ocean life. Then again, when the facts were coming from Veronica’s mouth, it wasn’t altogether surprising.

  And Veronica had another advantage—she was already technically a princess through her mother’s side, though her mother’s country was a small one nestled next to Stolvenia that had given up the monarchy in all but name.

  Unlike Dina, she didn’t pretend Amy wasn’t in the room. “You must be Amy,” she said, greeting her with a genuine smile. “Stolvenia is lucky to have such a genius PR professional on their side.

  “It’s wonderful to meet you in person,” Amy said. It was true.

  “You’ll come with us on the tour, won’t you?” Veronica’s eyes flicked down to Amy’s belly. “There’s no pressure, of course, if—”

  “Of course,” Amy said quickly, and Veronica seized the moment.

  She really was gorgeous, even wearing sensible shoes and sturdy pants, and Amy tried her best not to feel somehow inadequate while Veronica led them out toward the cliffs and then down a steep staircase. With every step, Amy wondered how she was possibly going to climb back up. She was in shape, but—

  The steps were the least of it. Veronica led them on a punishing climb through the outcrops at the base of the cliffs, stopping often to point out other rock formations. It was clear from the outset that she was passionate about her work, and Amy felt herself drawn in...when she wasn’t completely out of breath. Artur couldn’t put his camera down.

  Photography was known to be one of his hobbies, but Amy had assumed it was more of a pretext than a real hobby—an excuse for all his glamorous Instagram photos of beautiful people at the fabulously decadent parties he attended. But even in just a few days on this tour with him, she’d realized how seriously he took it—the time and attention he dedicated to capturing the perfect angle, the perfect composition, the perfect light. And despite what his Instagram would suggest, landscape pictures seemed to be his favorites. He must have taken two hundred photographs by the time they paused at the base of the staircase, Veronica looking out over the ocean.

  “Most of the life in the world is aquatic,” she said. “Some ninety-five percent of it. When we stand on the shore and feel small, that’s accurate in more ways than one. We’re the minority on the planet.”

  Amy certainly felt small standing next to the vast ocean, watching as Artur and Veronica looked out at the waves together.

  “Thank you,” Veronica said suddenly, her voice rising over the wash of the water on the shore.

  “For what?”

  Amy was as curious as Artur seemed to be.

  “For listening to me.”

  Listening to her?

  “You know,” Veronica went on, “a lot of people don’t seem to hear what I’m saying. They’re looking for...something else entirely from me. Something more in keeping with what they’d expect from a princess. I know this was supposed to be a romantic date, but...” She laughed. “It was the first time in a long time I’ve gotten to talk about what I love with an interested party.”

  “It’s a fascinating subject,” Artur agreed, shooting a glance over at Amy. “I’d like to hear more about it, if you’ve got the time.”

  “Prince Artur, you don’t have to ask if I have the time.” Veronica grinned up at him, and Amy looked away. They were too much of a handsome couple.

  “What do you think, Amy? Should we have some sandwiches brought down so we can hear more from Veronica?”

  “I’m—” Veronica was looking at Artur, eyes shining. “I’m happy to go up,” said Amy. “But you’ll have to meet me at the top. So many stairs!” She ran her hands over her belly.

  Artur nodded. “Of course. We’ll be right behind you.”

  * * *

  Amy hadn’t planned on an island, but that’s how the day had gone.

  Veronica had taken them to a garage with a dune buggy, and the three of them brought sandwiches from a local shop in the back. It was a longer way to the beach, but the scientist had insisted the view would be worth it, and Amy had to admit that it was.

  The island was only accessible during low tide, and Amy stood in the sun, letting the ocean breeze play over her face as she tried not to watch Veronica and Artur picnic together at the edge of the sand. A little outcropping of rock rose up out of the water in front of them.

  Where were the photographers when you needed one? Amy could see from here that the shot of Prince Artur sitting on a piece of driftwood with Veronica would be media gold. It was her job, after all, to engineer these kinds of opportunities, so she’d take matters into her own hands.

  Amy’s own sandwich was long gone by the time she strolled out toward the sea with her phone, pausing next to the rocks. They were...deceivingly close to the ocean. In fact, as the tide rose, they’d be covered up. On one side it was all sand, and on the other, all water. And it was deeper water than Amy had thought. She’d been expecting a few inches of water, but this looked more like a foot. Maybe two.

  She turned back toward the couple on the beach, shading her eyes with her hand. “I want to get a photo,” she called over the sea breeze.

  Worry flashed through Artur’s eyes. “Don’t we already have photos? From before?”

  “You two could be on the cover of a magazine,” she called back. “It’ll just take me a minute.” Amy waved her phone in the air. “Look like you’re still eating lunch.”

  Veronica gamely picked up her sandwich, grinning at Amy. “You sure you don’t need a hand up?”

  “I’m good,” Amy called. She put one foot on the rocks. They were wet and slippery, but she hadn’t worn high heels, so she’d be fine. One more step, two, then three, and Amy was balancing precariously on the rocks. “Okay!” She brandished her phone in the air. “Just...pose a little bit. Look at her, Artur.” She didn’t love the sight of him gazing down at another woman, but everyone else in the country would, and that’s what mattered.

  Amy snapped a few photos, the last one with both of them sunlit and happy, smiling at her from across the sand. “Great! That’s all I—”

  At that moment, the breeze picked up, strong enough to throw her off balance. In her nonpregnant days, it wouldn’t have been a big deal, but as her center of gravity shifted, Amy felt every shift in the wind these days. She took a step backward to steady herself.

  It was the wrong step.

  Her feet plunged into the water, up to her waist, and Amy yelped at the cold. It was freezing. So much for summer swimming. An embarrassed heat came to her cheeks as she heaved one foot back onto the outcropping.

  “Amy? Amy?” Artur’s voice was frantic.

  “I’m fine,” she started to say, but a wave swelled behind her, soaking her entirely...a
long with her phone. She coughed, sputtering.

  Her other foot was stuck.

  Artur’s face appeared on the rock above her, and the next thing she knew, he was in the water next to her, lifting her gently in his arms. He didn’t seem to notice when the water crashed into him. Didn’t even blink it out of his eyes. He only turned her until her foot came free and carried her back to the sand.

  “Are you all right?” Veronica had run out toward the rocks, her sandwich abandoned at the piece of driftwood.

  “I’m fine,” Amy said, teeth chattering as Artur set her on her feet. “But I’ll need a change of clothes.”

  It must have been some kind of princely magic, because the return trip to the hotel hardly seemed to take any time at all. Artur said his goodbyes to Veronica and hustled her inside, up to the top floor.

  “This isn’t my room,” Amy protested, but Artur didn’t reply as he ushered her through the door and shut it tightly behind them.

  “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes and warm you up,” he said.

  His concern was genuine as she stripped down to her underwear and he wrapped her in fluffy towels, rubbing his hands briskly up and down her arms. But when she noticed he was shivering, too, and he complied with her instructions to started stripping of his own wet clothes…well…The room warmed up in a hurry.

  Artur lifted Amy in his arms, pressing her back against the wall, and when his mouth met hers, she was already ready, already squirming closer. It was fast and furious, their skin still damp with seawater, and Amy relished in the sensation of his muscles working beneath her hands as she held on for dear life.

  “I’ve wanted this every moment,” he growled into her ear.

  She silenced him with a kiss. All the need she felt was centered between her legs, and there was only one cure.