Sighing, I said, “Let’s do this.”
Chapter 11
Alana
“How you ended up in our line of work, I’ll never understand,” I said to Zara as she swept the final touches of eyeshadow over my primed lids. “You’re an absolute genius.”
She waved her hand in the air. “Not a genius. You’re pretty, so it’s easy.” She applied highlighter and sat back enjoying her work.
Looking in the mirror, I was speechless. I looked good. Whatever smokey witchcraft she had done to my eyes, it made them pop and they were the focal point of my face. A nude lip and barely-there blushed cheeks completed the look.
Zara had already done my dark hair in a simple, low chignon at the base of my head. This way, my hair wouldn’t obstruct the view of my back. Though my gown had long sleeves and a high boat neck, it was backless. Zara joked that it was a mullet dress: business up front, party in the back.
The top of it was a deep metallic silver that ended at the waist where it cascaded down into a flowy chiffon skirt in a lighter gray. And yes, it had a slit, but it was a modest one. It was in line with something Kate would wear, and if she could get away with it at a film screening, then I could get away with this while meeting the parents.
Zara removed the napkin bib she tucked into the neckline of my dress, in case any makeup soiled it.
Next, she knelt and fastened the sparkly, sky-high heels she and Angelika had decided were worthy enough of tonight’s outfit. And as she did that, I placed dainty pave hoops in my lobes and stood facing the floor length mirror.
The light danced off the strap over my toes, a perfect complement to the overall silver tone of the dress.
“Zara…I look like I could pass for someone noble,” I crooned.
She rolled her eyes. “No, even better. You look like you’re Bastian’s girlfriend. And you look amazing.”
I took an extra minute moving this way and that, testing the slit and how much it showed my thigh, while turning around and glancing over my shoulder at my back.
It was perfect. It was all wonderful. And as I hugged her in thanks, there was a knock at the door.
Pulling me back and holding me by the elbows, Zara looked at me, pinning me with a genuine smile. She answered the door while I placed my phone in my new jewel-encrusted clutch.
As I rounded the corner to the front room, I was floored. Bastian stood in a tux, tailored to every curve of his muscles. He stood sideways, speaking with Zara and I caught the profile of his ass peeking out beneath the hem of his jacket.
There was no way we weren’t having sex tonight.
He caught sight of me as I was openly staring, but I had the decency to close my mouth so it was no longer open to catching flies.
Bastian continued staring, his eyes roaming over every inch of me, and though he didn’t say anything at first, I heard a guttural approval. Evidently, carrying me over his shoulder naked wasn’t the only form of Cro-Magnon he had in him.
Zara cleared her throat, watching the wordless exchange unfold.
“You look exquisite,” he finally said, finding his manners. I would give him the benefit of the doubt, but I was ninety-nine percent sure his voice had cracked on the word ‘exquisite’.
Bastian leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on my cheek, so as not to mess up Zara’s hard work. He then moved another inch in and whispered, “I hope you realize I’m going to fuck you senseless in that dress.”
Thankfully he had the decency to inform me of our later activities in my left ear, as Zara stood on my right.
I cleared my throat as he stood once more, sweeping his filthy words aside, but not forgetting them. It seemed we each had the same idea.
Zara hugged us both goodbye, standing at the front door waving to us like we were going to a school formal.
And not for the first time since meeting him, Bastian scooped me expertly and effortlessly in his arms and carried me to the car, where Henri stood holding the door.
“Alana,” he nodded in greeting.
I giggled a hello at him, as Bastian placed me down gently and helped me inside.
We weren’t in his usual car, but Bastian had opted for a vintage Rolls Royce. It was luxurious and the back was completely sectioned off from the front, a privacy screen in place.
I didn’t have to think twice as to why he had chosen to use this particular vehicle, but it did nothing to tamp down my excitement.
We sat side by side, the chiffon of my skirt falling away naturally at my thigh. Bastian placed his hand on me, starting at my knee and slowly, achingly slid it up until he felt my heat.
I was on fire, already. His fingers seared me, and I had to confirm by looking down that they hadn’t left burn marks on me.
As quickly as he started, Bastian took his hand away, reaching inside his jacket pocket.
I pouted. Intentionally.
“Bastian…you can’t just do that,” I said frustratingly.
“And if you think it’s going to be any easier for me to watch you all evening wearing that, you’re mistaken,” he explained, holding a small box he retrieved. “I got you a little something,” he said a little shyly, proffering the velvet box.
Opening it, I gasped. A pair of earrings sat nestled; there was a chain suspended from the diamond stud, and at the end of the chain was an exquisite rose made up of pavé diamonds.
“Bastian…I don’t know what to say. These are beautiful.” I couldn’t begin to fathom what they had cost, but obviously a great deal more than my fake hoops I was currently wearing.
“Say you’ll wear them. And later, with nothing else on but those shoes.” He held the box, encouraging me to reach for them. “I had them made special for you—I thought they’d remind you of the Love Knot rose of your grandmother’s,” he explained.
I looked at him with a newfound appreciation. He was not only generous, but incredibly thoughtful. “Thank you,” I crooned, “they’re perfect, truly.”
I swapped my hoops for the new pair and admired them in the reflection of the window.
We settled in for the remainder of the drive, flirting, giggling, and simply enjoying each other’s company. As we got closer though, Bastian gave me a few pointers and coaching tips again, reminding me what to expect.
We’d been over it most of the week, though he ended every lesson with ‘You’ll be just fine. Be yourself.’ Easy for him to say.
I’d be a fish out of water tonight, but I did have a newfound confidence with what I was wearing and how I looked. And as shallow as it seemed to be able to hide behind clothes and makeup, I was going with it.
As we crested a hill, Devmont Castle could be seen. It actually stole my breath as it and the surrounding grounds were the epitome of opulence.
The hill leveled out and turned into the longest driveway I’d seen, if you could even call it that. Perfectly manicured trees lined the drive, and after what seemed like a lifetime, Henri rounded a rather large circular fountain that sat in the middle of the carport area.
Everything was illuminated from the rooms on both levels of the castle to each prominent tree and shrub outside. Small lanterns lined the gravel walk under the massive portico, which was covered in a gold liner, assuring no woman in heels would falter as she made her way inside.
“Breathe, love,” Bastian reminded me as he held his hand out for me to take, exiting the car.
This time, I was expecting the flashes that met us, and focused my gaze above the cameras so I wouldn’t be blinded. And though it wasn’t natural for me to pause for pictures and be the subject of such attention, I sucked it up, feeling the strength from Bastian as he held my arm and possessively careened me inside with his hand on my back.
Once inside, I kept reminding myself to not gawk like a tourist. I spent a good amount of time this past week going down a proverbial rabbit hole online, researching the interior of the castle, so when I finally got here, I wouldn’t be so obvious. After all, everyone that was here tonight had been he
re multiple times and the grandeur was lost on them.
So far, the atmosphere was more relaxed than I had built up in my mind. People milled about, with flutes of champagne and helped themselves to hors d’ouevres as several waiters wove in and out of the crowd.
It was a sea of black and white tuxedoes, shimmering gowns and the largest jewels adorning necks, wrists and ears that I had ever seen.
In that moment, I was grateful not only for the thoughtful and generous gift Bastian had given me, but he had to have known I would feel inferior to a degree. It was hard not to, but I reminded myself that I was dating Bastian, and I was going to enjoy this for as long as the ride took me.
If it all ended tomorrow, or at midnight, I thought, I’d have so much to take away from it.
Bastian pulled me out of my thoughts, introducing me to a handful of people as we made our way further inside. Handshakes and pleasure to meet yous were exchanged in politeness, and even though I was told their names, there was no way I’d remember anyone by the end of the night.
Breaking away eventually, we made our way to a grand ballroom, presumably where the king and queen were.
A woman perhaps in her fifties with an elaborate feathered hat caught my eye and I discreetly asked Bastian who she was.
“Oh, that’s Duchess Greta,” he said in a low voice. “She’s from Luxembourg, she’s a bit of a leech and looks like she killed several peacocks to make that thing on her head.”
“Maybe she did,” I suggested. “It’s awful looking.” Deciding to ask him about several other over the top looking people, I told myself it was the same as picturing the audience in their underwear while you gave a speech.
I learned all sorts of juicy details about high ranking attendees: Baron Webster was on his sixth wife, who was currently and openly flirting with one of the waiters. Viscountess de Champlain was widowed and rumored to have poisoned her late husband. Lord Portwall was the guy you went to if you needed anything to disappear and Count Rudolf was an aspiring etymologist, having amassed over one thousand bugs in his collection thus far.
I guess wealth and titles didn’t erase the amount of crazy that aristocrats had. I found it amusing and fascinating and it helped me to forget my nerves as we were next in line to meet Bastian’s parents.
His father, King Arik was dressed formally in a black suit adorned with his military regalia. I had always thought he was a dapper man, but up close, he was quite striking for someone in his sixties.
And the queen in her off the shoulder taffeta gown was beautiful in person. Her light brown curls were expertly pulled back in an updo, showcasing the sapphire necklace that was the perfect complement to her neckline.
The couple in front of us finished with their pleasantries and left. Bastian sidled forward and gave his mother a kiss on each cheek. “Happy birthday, mother,” he said as she held his face between both hands, looking lovingly upon him.
“Thank you, dear,” she said as Bastian moved to shake King Arik’s hand.
But the king bypassed Bastian completely, sandwiching my hand between both his. “You must be Alana,” he said warmly, a twinkle in his eye. So, Bastian had told them about me.
“Your Majesty,” I replied, dipping my head in a slight curtsey. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet both of you.” Turning to the queen I wished her a happy birthday.
“Oh, my dear, thank you. But we should be thanking you,” she said, holding my hand affectionately. When my puzzled look said everything, she explained. “Bash has been a little, well, difficult if you will. But these past few weeks he’s never seemed happier.”
“And we can see why,” the king added, winking at me. “If you keep him on his toes as much as he’s said, then we are indebted to you indefinitely.”
I wasn’t privy to what Bastian had filled them in on, but I blushed at the possibility that he shared the fact that I had been nothing but challenging at times.
Before I could respond, Bastian spoke up. “You do realize I’m standing right here, don’t you?”
“Nonsense, son. We’re not daft. Now,” the king said, adoringly placing a hand around his wife’s waist, “take this lovely woman of yours and show her a good time. The food and champagne are abundant, as is the music and fun atmosphere.”
Queen Lidia leaned in and said, “But steer clear of Earl Desmond. He’s a little too far into his cups to be of proper company. Lovely to meet you, Alana. I do hope we see much more of you.” She and I exchanged the double cheek gesture before Bastian whisked us away to get drinks.
“Thanks,” I said. “I needed a drink. Your parents are wonderful,” I told him, surprised at their warmth and quick acceptance.
“They liked you,” he confessed. “Neither of them has ever outright ignored me like that,” he laughed hollowly.
As we each took a glass of champagne from a passing tray, a rather obnoxious screech was heard.
“Bash? Bash, I thought that was you!” a woman’s voice carried over to us. Before I knew what was happening, a tall blonde woman greeted Bastian in what seemed like a very familiar manner.
She was thin—Kate Moss thin—her hair was glossy and the color of the sun on a frigid day, and she was in a very suggestive dress that showcased an ass that was probably genetic and not due to hours put in at a gym.
Bastian looked annoyed as she hung on his arm before turning around and noticing me.
“Oh,” she said, thoroughly assessing me from head to toe. “Who’s this, Bash?” The way she called him Bash eluded she was quite close to him or the family.
“This,” he said, removing his arm from her grasp like it was a branch and she was the koala, “is my girlfriend, Alana.”
It was obvious he emphasized the word girlfriend to communicate the fact that he was here and unavailable. Whoever this woman was, she was none too pleased at the introduction.
“Alana,” he continued, “this is Luna. Luna von Juric.”
Von Juric sounded familiar…von Juric, as in the Prime Minister’s daughter?
“Pleasure,” I said tightly.
She responded barely with an hmm mm, and turned her attention back to Bastian.
Wow.
“It’s been too long, Bash. Let’s grab a drink and catch up, mmm?”
Did she really just say that, knowing that I was a) within earshot, and b) that he had just informed her he was here with his girlfriend?
It was curious, watching the two of them; I’d never seen Bastian uncomfortable before, and she was an absolute shark. I wondered if she smelled fear as well as blood.
“Raincheck, Luna,” he said curtly. Physically removing himself from her again, Bastian held his elbow out for me and I gladly took it.
I wasn’t being smug, but I offered Luna a smile as Bastian whisked me away. I didn’t need to make a bad impression on these people, though I had a feeling she’d twist and turn any interaction of ours into something bad as long as it suited her and her endeavors.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “She’s a bit clingy…”
That was an understatement.
“She’s the Prime Minister’s daughter, right?”
“The one and only. Our families have known each other for years and years. Luna’s always just kind of been around, ya know?”
“I see.” Sort of. “She seemed like she wanted to stick daggers in my eyes,” I said under my breath.
“I believe her strategy is a knife in the back.” When I raised my brows in question, he went on. “Thankfully I’ve never been on that side of things, but she has the mentality that things are owed to her and if she doesn’t get them, she remedies it.”
“Sounds charming,” I mused, my earlier assessment accurate.
The mingling had quieted down and we were all summoned to the ballroom from where we had just exited. We followed the throng of people and I leaned in and asked Bastian what we were doing.
“Why, it’s a ball,” he said, amused. “And there shall be dancing; it’s mother’s favorite
part of the evening.”
I don’t know why, but dancing had never crossed my mind. But why hadn’t it? It was a formal affair after all, and I was currently kicking myself for my lack of dancing skills.
“Your poker face is horrid, love. You’ll be fine, just follow my lead.”
The crowd had formed a circle, edging themselves to the walls, while King Arik formally bowed to his queen. She curtsied in return and the band began to play.
Bastian turned to me and in a sweepingly dramatic bow, offered me his hand. I took it, because what else could I do in that situation, several eyes upon us. But I felt giddy at the same time, my nerves leaving me as I mimicked the queen’s motions and curtseyed in return.
Several couples had begun to twirl effortlessly over the intricate diamond shape of the parquet floor, the numerous jewels dancing underneath the light of the chandeliers.
As instructed, I followed Bastian’s lead and found it to be rather easy. My skirt flowed behind me as we made our way throughout the room, his steady hand at my bare back.
I ignored the ache in my feet, deciding that beauty was pain. I could suck it up and get the most out of the money I spent on my outfit.
Bastian pulled me closer and said, “You look radiant, and everyone is noticing…” He felt me stiffen in his arms and chuckled at my reaction. “Don’t be alarmed, but Nikola is heading this way—he’ll most likely want to steal you from me.”
Seconds later, the Prime Minister waltzed over with Luna.
“Bash, dance with me,” she pouted. “Daddy, take her…” she instructed, referring to me.
Nikola released Luna and bowed to me. Was this necessary before a dance with each new partner? Luna practically flung herself at Bastian and possessively took over, leading him far away from the two of us.
“Prime Minister,” I said. “It’s a pleasure.”
“Please, call me Nikola.” He was completely opposite of Luna. He was stout and shorter, where she was tall and thin. They shared the same eyes though, ice blue and pale. But Nikola held a warmth to him, unlike Luna and I found myself comfortable around him. “Luna was just telling me of your relationship with the prince,” he said conversationally. I bet she had…
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