The Keys' Prince (The Royal Heirs) (10 page)

BOOK: The Keys' Prince (The Royal Heirs)
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“I could definitely use more epiphytes,” she said, catching a drizzle of Italian dressing before it made it onto her shirt from her chin. “But not you. You’re so terrific at handling people. Take the paparazzi for example. I can hardly behave myself long enough to answer a couple of their nosy questions. But you...you stand there and actually look as if you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I think it comes from being born into a royal family,” Dario said, taking off his cap and tracing the outline of his family crest with his index finger. “I was shown how to handle myself in the masses since I was old enough to walk among them.”

Abandoning his cap for a small twig, he drew circles and squares in the sand peeking through the manicured lawn.

“I suppose there’s a part of me that now thrives on the attention,” he said, a grimace replacing the once relaxed set of his jaw. “But that said I do have limits.”

“What kinds of limits?” Stella asked.

“Well...say whenever I’ve had a relationship that’s gone bad. I get testy with the cameras flashing in my face and the reporters asking me questions that I’m not yet prepared to answer. Hell, sometimes, I didn’t know if the relationship was over. Maybe it could be saved. Maybe I wanted to save it. Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t know whether or not I wanted to. How am I supposed to give them answers that I don’t know?” He explained, tossing the twig toward the box hedges behind them.

Stella giggled, but then immediately felt bad for laughing. She certainly didn’t want him to think she was making fun of his predicaments or that she didn’t empathize.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at the situation. Or you. Not at all. I was laughing at how you said it. I love that you can find the humor in our crazy lives. I need to be more like that.”

“Remember NeeNee, my favorite nanny, who was more of a mother to me than my own mother will ever be?” Dario asked leaning back on the grass till he was looking up at the gigantic puffy clouds sliding across the sky.

Stella nodded. NeeNee had been wonderful to Dario and wonderful to her, too. If she wasn’t mistaken, she’d passed away a couple of years ago. She wished she could have been there at that time for Dario. NeeNee’s passing would have been hard on him.

“NeeNee explained to me when I was a small boy that dealing with the masses is part of my world. A price my family and I pay for the privileges and opportunities of our birthrights. Not only was she right, she showed me that it can be kind of fun. I’ve actually become friendly with a few of the photographers and reporters back in Kristianico, who have covered my life since before I was old enough to learn their names.”

“I’ve never looked at it that way,” Stella said. “But maybe I should. My father was always so good at it. And, like you, he befriended a few reporters and photographers. Heck, he’d buy ’em all a drink if they happened to be in the same bar. And not just buy them a drink. He’d have one with them and get to know them. But not me. I guess I’m trapped in the shyness I got from my mother.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ll figure it out. And besides, it should be different for you than for me. You don’t have a kingdom of twenty thousand people who are your subjects, who are, for the most part, very loyal and kind, but who also depend on you to maintain the quality of life they enjoy and have come to expect,” Dario said, worry replacing what had been a rather peaceful look in his eyes.

“When you put it like that, I suppose we do have our differences, even though, we also have many things in common,” Stella said, wishing she’d had a person like NeeNee in her life at a young age to coach her through the tough parts of having the kind of wealth that she did.

Sometimes, and she felt horrible thinking this way, but it was true. Sometimes, she wished her mother had passed sooner so she’d have had more time with Auntie Elo. It wasn’t until Auntie Elo took over for her mother that Stella had been shown any kind of love or guidance. For years, as a small child and then into her early teens, Stella had pined for the love of a mother who wasn’t well enough to give it, but one who was also too proud to have someone else fill in for her.

“You’ll see what I mean when we get to Kristianico. It will be a great place for you to try a new approach with the press. And for the most part, they’ll be kind to you. Maybe you’ll even befriend a few of the royal reporters. That doesn’t mean you ever let your guard down completely, but you can certainly start to have fun with it.”

“How’d you get so wise at handling all of this? Besides by listening to NeeNee.”

“Lots of trial and error, I suppose. I wasn’t always this smooth and polished. Trust me,” he said and laughed, shaking his head as if trying to also shake off memories of his failures, a few of which, Stella remembered well.

“I do trust you, Dario. I always have.”

“Good. Because I trust you, too. And I trust us, what we have together and what we’ve always had together,” he said lying back onto the blanket.

Stella snuggled up to him, her head on his shoulder. She stared up at the clouds and the brilliant cerulean blue skies above them, losing herself in the moment. This was turning out to be a great first date.


CHAPTER NINE

 

 

Stella wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying next to Dario, enjoying the blissful shade of the palm fronds. She’d been drifting in and out of cat naps filled with fantastical dreams until suddenly, a large shadow settled over her, blocking
the late afternoon sun peeking through the canopy of leaves. She opened her eyes and wanted to scream, but instead, since she was well-practiced in this sort of surprise attack, she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth. The last thing they needed was to draw more attention to their situation.

How long the Rat Pack had been standing there she had no idea, but she intended to make sure that it wasn’t much longer.

“Don’t you realize you look like a bunch of idiots?! Mobsters really. Like soldiers for some infamous don. What the hell do you want now?!” Stella snapped.

Her body was completely rigid, pumped to the max with both adrenaline and anger. Franco and Stefan stepped out from behind the hedgerow and positioned themselves between her and Dario and the Pack. With them in position, Stella felt some of the tension subside, but not near enough to make her feel comfortable and confident.

Franco and Stefan’s almost immediate appearance did mean the Pack hadn’t been there for long. Stella knew better than to think that either one of them would have missed spotting the three huge rats that seemed to follow her everywhere. Franco and Stefan could probably smell them coming a mile away just like she could. Hell, their ugly energy was powerful enough to pull her out of a very pleasant dreamland.

“We’re about to head back to your father’s European headquarters,” Brandenberg said, his expression indicating he didn’t appreciate the inconvenience of having to deal with Stella a second time during his trip.

“You mean my European headquarters?” Stella asked, never missing opportunities to remind Brandenberg whose fortune he was dealing with.

The Anastas Foundation’s money had never been his and never would be. And that went for the other two trustees as well, although they didn’t seem as eager as Brandenberg did to claim it for their own. The three trustees were the guardians of her foundation’s money, not the rightful owners.

“Call it what you wish, Ms. Anastas,” Brandenberg said and sighed, as if her clarification was nothing more than semantics.

“I call it as it is,” she said.

“Speaking of as it is, following today’s news, we’re checking in to see if there’s anything you’d like to tell us about your relationship with your friend here,” he said, inclining his head toward Dario.

He tapped his polished shoe on the grass as if Stella would note his impatience and tell him pronto exactly what he wanted to know.

A breeze swept in from the bay behind them, bringing with it a whiff of shoe polish that stung Stella’s nostrils. It was the same high-end polish her father’s shoes had been shined with. Perhaps it was coincidence, but Stella didn’t think so.

She had an eerie feeling about Brandenberg that grew stronger each time she dealt with him. Almost everything he did—down to the shoe polish he used—mimicked her father. It was as if he wanted nothing less than to become him. Did he have any limits? Or would he stop at nothing to end up with all her father had?

Stella took a moment to compose her thoughts and get her emotions under control. She looked at Dario who was now sitting up with her, his arm protectively around her back.

He reached over and took her hand, squeezed it gently, and winked at her.

She had no idea what his plan was, but she trusted him and was more than willing to see what he had in mind.

“Gentleman,” he said, “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. When I was in Stella’s life many years ago, you weren’t. As I recall, you had just started your attempts at taking over what’s hers. So, if you’ll allow me to first assist my beautiful love onto her feet, I’ll make the necessary introductions.”

Dario stood up, turned to Stella and offered her his hands.

She smiled and took him up on his offer, hoping he could see in her eyes that she definitely approved of his approach so far.

Gently bringing her to her feet, with Franco and Stefan moving to either side of them, Dario brushed off his pants, wiped his hands on a napkin from their picnic basket and began his introductions.

“I’m Prince Adonis of Kristianico. Stella has told me so much about you, Mr. Brandenberg, Mr. Rousseau and Mr. Gersbach,” he said, shaking each man’s hand as he said their name.

As shocked by his bravado as she was motivated by it, Stella pushed back the sick feeling in her stomach and settled in for a confrontation that had been years in-the-making.

Dario had obviously done his homework where her father’s trustees were concerned. She wanted to be glad about that instead of embarrassed. But that was much easier said than done. One Google search of either her or her father’s name would have told him everything he needed to know about the ongoing drama she had with these men regarding her inheritance. And if that wasn’t enough, he could read entire books on it. Several unauthorized biographies had been written. And even though she didn’t have anything to do with the books being published, she’d read them. Most of the facts of her struggles were fairly accurately presented. It seemed the whole world knew all of the ugly truths of her father’s legacy.

Using Dario’s strength and willingness to stand against the trustees reinforced her resolve. She recovered from the embarrassment of a battle that had now raged in the public eye for over two decades and decided to take command of the situation.

“So you’re not here for an afternoon in the gardens then? Pity really. We’ve enjoyed them. Haven’t we, Dario?” She asked.

Dario nodded and smiled, stepping back and giving her the floor.

“You’re here to check up on me and the new man in my life. Would you say that’s a good assessment?” Stella asked, taking a deep, fortifying breath.

“Is there anything we should be concerned about?” Gersbach asked, always the most polite of the three.

“You mean concerned that I might be entertaining a marriage proposal?” Stella asked, going for gold before she lost her nerve.

Gersbach shifted his feet, showing his apparent discomfort with confronting her in this manner. Brandenberg and Rousseau, however, didn’t look a bit sorry. Instead, they looked from her to Dario and then back to her, waiting for one of them to say something.

“Don’t you think I’ll let you know when the time comes?” Stella asked, stringing them along and enjoying every minute of it. “But if you’re worried about it,” she said, “perhaps you should reread my father’s will, which very clearly spells out the procedures for this kind of thing and what my marriage would mean for you as well as what it would mean to my further control of my father’s foundation and my inheritance.”

“We’ve read the will several times, Stella, as have our attorneys,” Brandenberg said looking at his watch as if his time could be better spent elsewhere.

“I’m sure I’ve paid for that too,” Stella said and harrumphed. “In fact, I know I have because I see every check that’s written.”

Brandenberg, suddenly not quite as interested in his watch, cleared his throat. He was definitely surprised by that piece of information, although he did his best not to show it.

“We thought it prudent to remind you and make the prince aware as well that we’ll be watching both of you as well as looking into the prince’s background,” Rousseau added, trying to cover for Brandenberg who was still tongue-tied. “We do this as a necessary precaution. For your protection, of course.”

“I would expect no less. But you can also be sure that I’m watching you, as is the Prince, and we know every move you’re making. Every move,” Stella said, pausing a moment to let that sink in deeper. “For our protection, of course.”

Stella let the warning hang between them in a heavy silence before continuing, “I suppose you should go ahead and prepare for the possibility that I might be the future Princess of Kristianico. You never know.”

“We’ll do what we need to do then,” Rousseau said, picking up his briefcase, which hopefully meant they were almost done with the rendezvous.

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