The Keys' Prince (The Royal Heirs) (14 page)

“Thank you, I think,” Dario said, hardly able to contain the ornery grin that Stella loved. “I’m so glad to finally meet you ladies. I’ve heard so much about you.”

He took each one by their arms and gently kissed the tops of their hands.

“To think that you get that treatment, Stella, on much more than your lips,” Emma Lou whispered.

Well, she thought she was whispering. Thanks to being without her hearing aids, however, which she thought she didn’t need, all of them heard her.

“I swear, Emma Lou, you’re so uncivilized,” Hollywood said, telling her friend what everyone else wanted to but didn’t have the nerve to.

They’d all come to expect Emma Lou’s naughty behavior and in spite of the embarrassment she caused, they still adored her.

“Hey, I’m not the one who’s had more of her body parts worked on than not worked on. Thus, we call you Hollywood. I mean c’mon, you’ve had your boobs done, your lips done I don’t how many times, your ass. You name it, it’s been tucked, sucked out, stretched or plumped,” Emma Lou said as if it was the most ordinary thing in the world to discuss.

“That’s enough, Emma Lou. Sorry, darlings, but we’ve got to go. It’s time for our beauty rest and then onto Happy Hour. And after a whole day with Emma Lou? Let’s just say it will be one helluva Happy Hour.”

Stella did her best not to burst out laughing.

Even though Dario had turned his head, pretending to cough, she could tell by the way that his shoulders were shaking that he was about ready to cut loose, too.

“The pleasure has been mine, ladies,” Dario said, evidently able to get it together.

“No, trust me, princey poo, it was all ours,” Emma Lou said and bowed deeply, so deep she almost took a tumble nose first into the sand. Luckily, Hollywood grabbed her arm and steadied her in time to prevent her fall before leading her away toward the water’s edge.

“I was dying to ask if they had baking to do after their beauty naps and Happy Hour,” Dario said, finally letting go with a hearty guffaw.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Stella said, playfully sweeping her toes through the sand till she’d covered his feet with an ample pile.

“Oh, I would, but I also knew that if I did, there’s no way I could keep from laughing out loud.”

“They’re a hoot, aren’t they?” Stella asked, watching the two of them walk along the beach in their tiny bikinis.

She’d bet a substantial part of her fortune that Hollywood was giving Emma Lou a lecture about her big mouth that Emma Lou was completely ignoring.

“A hoot? What’s that mean?” Dario asked while burying his feet deeper into the sand.

“How about totally cuckoo crazy?”

“Got it. So, yes, in that case, they’re a hoot. I love the lingo you’ve picked up down here, by the way.”

His phone started buzzing, snapping them right out of the light-hearted moment. Dario ignored it at first, letting it go to voicemail. But within seconds, it started buzzing again.

“Let me get this. Otherwise, it won’t stop ringing.”

Stella knew how that was, and Dario was right. The damn thing would never stop ringing until he’d answered it. Once again, she gathered up her shell collection bag, looking forward to their nice, leisurely walk. Who knew what kinds of treasures the sea would bring them today. But they were about to find out.

It was shell-hunting one day along this very beach that had given her the idea for the name of her store. Neptune, the god of the sea, always brought in treasures with the tide, and Stella was blessed to have found many of them over the years. She’d spent many hours, and so had her bodyguards, combing the beaches of the world for the gifts from the sea.

Lost in her thoughts, she suddenly realized that Dario was no longer talking on his phone. She turned to him, ready to see if he wanted to accompany her on her adventure.

Seeing the expression on his face, her heart plummeted to the bottom of the sea.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She asked reachin
g out for his arm, holding onto him as if this was the last chance she’d ever have to do so.

“It’s my father. King Adonis. He’s dead,” Dario said, lowering his head to his chest. “I’m the new king of Kristianico.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Before Stella could try to comfort Dario, Stefan and Franco were walking towards them on the beach. Stefan had received a call right after Dario’s, instructing them to return to Kristianico immediately.

So much for riding their bikes back from the beach.

Within an hour, Stella was buckled into an off-white, ultra-plush leather seat—next to Dario—in one of his family’s private jets, preparing for departure. Dario, the new king of Kristianico, was on his way home for his coronation and his father’s funeral mass. Stella would appear at his side along with the rest of the royal family.

From the moment they’d gotten the call, Stella’s life had become a surreal whirlwind. She’d packed quickly many times, but never in this much of a dizzying blur. She grabbed what she could from the Casey Key estate, arranging for the rest to be express-shipped to Kristianico first thing the following day.

She called her long-time stylists in Hollywood, New York City and Paris and asked that they each round-up a variety of the latest in couture gowns and royal street wear to be hand-delivered by each designer’s courier service to Kristianico. She also had Franco make plans to fly the stylists to Kristianico as soon as they could clear their schedules. If she and Dario had any shot at pulling off their plan, she’d certainly have to look every bit the part of his future queen.

A future queen. She was on her way to becoming a queen. She’d skip the princess role and head right on up the succession line. Stella kept trying to grasp the title and make some sort of sense out of it. But right now, nothing was making sense at all.

What had she gotten herself into? The dream she’d had since she was eighteen was finally presenting itself as her probable destiny. ‘Be careful what you wish for’—one of Auntie Elo’s favorite sayings—had a rather terrifying new meaning. 

A couple of hours later, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, well on the way to a private French airport near Nice and then onto Kristianico, Stella still couldn’t believe that in approximately twelve hours she’d be back in Dario’s country.

While they were in the air, Dario’s press team would be convincing the people of Kristianico and the world that not only was Dario returning to accept the throne, but that he was also returning with the woman who would soon be Kristianico’s new queen.

Stella never imagined she’d return to Kristianico, let alone on Dario’s arm. She’d given up on that dream decades ago.

And even though she’d hatched this crazy plan with Dario, she figured the ruse would blow up long before they hit the shores of his Riviera paradise. If they’d stayed in Sarasota for several more weeks, maybe it would have. But evidently, destiny was in more of a hurry than they were.

Stella tried to refocus on the Kristianico tourists’ guides she’d been trying to digest for most of the flight. If only she wasn’t such a worrywart. She needed to try to stay calm and confident—like Dario.

He’d been on the phone for most of the trip. And even though he sounded irritated at times, he carried on his conversations with a strong, serene grace under pressure. Always assured and on his game, he was definitely a force to be reckoned with, leaving absolutely no doubt that he was more than fit to be Kristianico’s king.

Stella, on the other hand, felt like the proverbial fish out of water. Out of water she’d promised herself she’d never again dip into.

For starters, she couldn’t speak Kristianico’s language. French was spoken there. Stella wasn’t good at French, at all. In fact, for an international business woman and jet-setter, she was awful with languages. She’d forever be paying outrageous prices for interpreters. Her brain just wasn’t wired to be multi-lingual.

She could read other languages fairly well, but she could not speak them to save herself. And she didn’t dare try. She’d manage to insult someone without a clue how she’d done it. She’d made that mistake one time in Venezuela, and it was horribly embarrassing. From that point on, she relied on interpreters, and even then, she preferred to keep her mouth shut.

Usually her money and the contracts she offered to make millions more spoke on their own. But it wasn’t that way in Dario’s world. She’d have to show the same kind of grace and kindness that he did in very public, social settings. And she certainly wanted to be able to do so, but the language barrier was going to be brutal.

While Dario tended to an entire folder full of royal business that had been emailed and printed off for him while they were still on the runway in Sarasota, Stella tried to think through beginning a new life in Kristianico—a new life that, for the foreseeable future at least, would not include Auntie Elo.

Prior to a tearful goodbye at the airport, Auntie Elo had helped Stella finish packing what she had the luggage to carry from Casey Key to Kristianico. Elo had spent the entire time they were stuffing items into the two bags Stella had with her at the hideaway saying everything possible to bolster Stella’s courage. She wanted her to go for the gusto the opportunity presented, despite the ridiculousness of it all.

And Elo could be very convincing. The woman could be the live-event version of every self-help book Stella had ever read, and she read at least one per week, sometimes two. 

But Auntie Elo was much more adventurous than Stella. She was the one who could make becoming a queen look easy, not Stella.

Stella had serious doubts as to why she’d ever conjured up this crazy idea. What had she been thinking? She’d been in this exact situation once in her life. It wasn’t meant to be then, so how could it ever work now?

Yes, she’d had fun with Dario in Sarasota. And she couldn’t say that pretending for the cameras that they were on track to be a couple again wasn’t terrific. And being back in his arms when the cameras were long gone was every one of her wildest dreams coming true. But never in a million years had she expected his father to pass so quickly, forcing their relationship to an extreme level way too fast.

If only Auntie Elo could have come with her to Kristianico. But she’d decided to stay behind and tend to Neptune’s Treasures, even though both Stella and Dario had assured her that there was no reason that Emma Lou and Hollywood couldn’t handle the shop. They were more than able to look after the store and did a great job when they were in charge. As business women, they were a dynamic duo. It was only when they were dealing with men that they were totally off their rockers.

Stella knew Auntie Elo well though, and she was convinced that her aunt had only stayed behind because she wanted Stella and Dario to face their future on their own. She knew Auntie Elo’s tricks. She wanted them to lean on each other, without outside interference. She’d never admit that that was what she was up to, but she didn’t have any other reason to stay behind.

Although Elo promised to check in by phone at least once a day, Stella would be on her own. On her own in a country that had once upon a time been her undoing.

She stretched out on the sofa she’d moved to shortly after they’d left Sarasota. Wyatt had joined her very soon after that glad to be free of the crate he was put into for take-off. She gave him a nice belly rub and reached for a book on all-things Kristianico that she’d found at the bottom of the pile of brochures and booklets on the coffee table next to the sofa.

It read like the brilliant promotional piece it was. According to the directory included in the back of the book, countless international businesses had set up shop in Kristianico, most of them within the last ten years while Dario had been in charge of the country’s economic development. With its gorgeous Riviera setting—showcased by fabulous photographs throughout the book—and the tax-free haven the country offered, Stella could see why so many businesses had made Kristianico their corporate headquarters. Dario was smart to be keying in on new business as the focal point of his plan to ensure a prosperous future for his country. 

Stella made a mental note to do further research on the business advantages to relocating at least part if not all of her corporations to Kristianico. Maybe she could find a few loopholes in Kristianico’s legal system that might allow her to get rid of her father’s trustees once and for all.

She had to do something and sooner rather than later.

A year ago, she’d had Franco hire agents to covertly gather information on Brandenberg, Rousseau and Gersbach. And her instincts had served her well.

She’d discovered that the three men had been holding Anastas Foundation board meetings behind her back. At the clandestine meetings, they’d vote through measures, by majority, without her knowledge.

They may think that they’d managed to change the rules without her, but they were wrong. Stella had ideas on how to handle them, but she’d planned to get Dario’s opinion and then his help, if he agreed with what she had in mind.

For the time being, however, all of her troubles would have to take a second seat to his. Because of his father’s death, his kingdom and his reign over it were the more immediate risks. Until he was able to secure his throne and sit comfortably on it as Kristianico’s new ruler, Stella didn’t want to cause him additional burdens.