“Neither did Gabriel and Nic and look how that turned out.”
Gabriel had eloped five months earlier in a grand, romantic gesture that had rendered him blissfully happy, but by marrying a woman who could never have children, he’d left his two brothers holding short straws.
As the last born of the triplets, Christian had made it clear to Nic that it was his duty to step up next. In order for the Alessandro family to stay in power, one of the three princes needed to produce a son. But before Nic could begin looking for a potential bride from among Europe’s noble houses or Sherdana’s female citizenry, the beautiful American, Brooke Davis, had stolen his heart.
And with their wedding today, it all came down to Christian.
“I can find my own bride without Mother’s help.”
Ariana made a noise unfit for a princess. “You’ve already been through half the suitable single women in Europe.
“Hardly half.”
“Surely there was one woman among all those you’ve spent time with who appeals to you.”
“Appeals, yes.” Christian resisted the urge to search for Noelle again. “But not one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”
“Well, you’d better find one.”
Christian ground his teeth together and didn’t answer. He knew Ariana was right. The price one paid as a royal was to not always get to do as one liked. Gabriel had been lucky to choose Olivia to marry before he understood that he was in love with her. But right up until he and Olivia eloped, Gabriel had grappled with his duty to Sherdana versus following his heart’s desire.
Nic had the same issue with Brooke. He’d known he needed to put her aside and marry a woman whose children could one day be king.
But in the end both men had chosen love over duty.
Which left Christian to choose duty.
One of the photographer’s assistants came to fetch them for more pictures, putting an end to the conversation for the moment. Christian endured another tedious hour of being posed with his brothers, his sister, the king and queen, and various members of the wedding party. By the time the session was finished, he was ready to get drunker than he’d been in the five years since the accident that left him with a disfigured body to match his tarnished soul.
What stopped him from making a beeline for the bar was Noelle.
It seemed perfectly right to walk up behind her and slip his arm around her waist. Christian dropped a kiss on her cheek the way he had a hundred times, a habit from the old days that used to speak to his strong affection for her. For a microsecond Noelle relaxed against him, accepting his touch as if no time or hurt had passed between them. Then she tensed.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured in her ear.
She didn’t quite jerk away from him, but she lacked her usual grace in her quick sideways step. “Thank you, Your Royal Highness.”
“Walk with me.” It was more a command than an invitation.
“I really shouldn’t leave the party.” She glanced toward the bride and groom as if hoping to spot someone who needed her.
“The photos are done. The bride has no further need for her designer. I’d like to catch up with you. It’s been a long time.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.” To his annoyance, she curtsied, gaze averted.
The gardens behind the palace were extensive and scrupulously maintained under the queen’s watchful eye. The plantings closest to the I-shaped structure that housed Sherdana’s royal family were arranged in terms of design and color that changed with the seasons. This was the most photographed section of the garden, with its formal walkways and dramatic fountains.
Toward the back of the extensive acreage that surrounded the palace, the garden gave way to a wooded area. Christian guided her to a small grove of trees that offered plenty of shade. There would be more privacy there.
“You’ve done very well for yourself as a designer.”
Christian hated small talk, and it seemed idiotic to attempt any with Noelle. But how did you begin a cordial conversation with an ex-lover who you’d once deliberately hurt even as you told yourself it was for her own good?
“I’ve been fortunate.” Her polite demeanor contrasted with the impatience running through her tone. “Luck and timing.”
“You neglected to mention talent. I always knew you’d be successful.”
“That’s very kind.”
“I’ve missed you.” The words came out of nowhere and shocked him. He’d intended to ply her with flirtatious compliments and make her smile at him the way she used to, not pour his heart out.
For the first time she met his gaze directly. His heart gave a familiar bump as he took in the striking uniqueness of her eyes. From a distance they merely looked hazel, but up close the greenish-brown around the edges gave way to a bright chestnut near the pupil. In the past, he’d spent long hours studying those colors and reveling in the soft affection in her gaze as they lingered over dinner or spent a morning in bed.
She gave her head a shake. “I’m sure that’s not true.”
“I might not have been the man for you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care,” he told her, fingertips itching to touch her warm skin.
“Don’t try to flatter me.” The words held no heat. “I was a convenient bed for you to fall into after you were done partying. You came to me when you grew tired of your superficial crowd and their thoughtless behavior. And in the end, you pushed me out of your life as if two years together meant nothing.”
For your own good.
“And look how you thrived. You moved to Paris and became an internationally famous designer.” He sounded defensive, and that wasn’t the tone he wanted to take with her.
“Is that what you think I wanted?” Her breath huffed out in a short burst that he might have taken for laughter if she hadn’t been frowning. “Fame and fortune?”
No, it’s what he’d wanted for her. “Talent like yours shouldn’t go to waste.”
“Do you want me to thank you?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
