Page 70 of The Prince Who Loved Me

Brandi left her office, her notes neatly organized the way one of the books recommended.

She didn’t see Sebastien when she stepped outside, but Massimo was standing in her path and nodded to the side of the building. Sebastien sat on the ground, sketchbook in hand, and staring straight above at the live oak branches.

He turned before she got to him. “How did it go?”

“Well, I had to make a second appointment, but other than that.” She sat beside him. “There’s a lot of research and reading I have to do. I understood about half of what Maria was saying.”

“That’s great.”

“Great?”

“Before you came to this meeting, you didn’t understand any of what Maria was saying. This half is an improvement.”

Brandi huffed out a laugh, surprised that this man could make her smile when she was weighed down by her own doubts and knowledge. She leaned her head against his shoulder and linked their arms. “I’m sorry I put all this on you.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I’ve watched you tackle problems that came your way often enough to know that you can do it, Brandi. Whether it’s Belle’s or making wine or learning to cook.”

“Hey, let’s not get too hasty on that last one.”

“Ah,mon ange. I am here for you. Always.” He put his arm around her and pulled her into his body. “This is your business. Your heritage. It took over one hundred years to be established. So what if it takes time for you to fully understand what’s going on? It will still be waiting for you when that happens.”

“It’s so frustrating. How can Belle’s be mine if I don’t understand?”

“Exactly.”

He was right. If she wanted it, she had to own it. All of it. It would be overwhelming if she let it. She clutched his shirt and buried her face against his shoulder. “I’m not used to taking care of myself.”

“Yes, you are. Only you don’t realize it.”

She choked out a laugh. “I figured you’d be happy to explain everything to me. Or just take over.” She smiled at him. “Thank you for not going along with my plan.”

***

Sebastien sat on the sofa in his room one night, eagerlyawaiting the moment Brandi would knock on his door. They’d been doing this sneaking thing for a couple of weeks and had the routine down. Every few nights, Brandi would come down to his room once Wendy and Eulalee were on the family floor and stay until the sun crept up over the horizon.

It was the homey feeling that got him, more than having her in his bed. She’d tell him about her day with the whiskey, the interviews for the Belle’s manager. She’d bring one of the business books with her and read while he sketched or fielded emails for his charities in Casagnes or sent messages to his family. It was all so normal and he loved every minute. He didn’t have to worry about paparazzi snapping pictures, or some lowlife scumbag finding an ex-boyfriend for a tell-all, or Brandi’s motives for being with him.

He didn’t have to worry about if it was real, if she was trading her body to take advantage of his lifestyle and money.

They still played it cool when others were around. In the evenings, she and Wendy had helped him narrow down the sketches for the art show. He needed only eighteen pieces. Three of them would be of Brandi, but he hadn’t told her yet. She had been his muse, his inspiration, his angel for the past ten years.

Eight pictures would be the progression of his talent, but finding the remaining seven from all his years of creating art was a task. Sometimes Rob joined them, when he wasn’t working on his next book. Sometimes Eulalee and Mac would hang out as well. It was a large, comfortable family with no pretenses about it, unlike how it would be if His and Her Majesty had been among the guests.

Sebastien had a surprise for Brandi tonight. With the arts show coming up, he knew she wanted a look that complimented his own, and was stressing about what to wear. He found the perfect dress. It was now in a box with tissue paper and tied with a huge ribbon.

She snuck into his room when she was done at Belle’s and Wendy had disappeared with Rob, greeting him with a kiss that filled his senses. Her soft skin, her sweet scent, her honeyed taste combined and sent a thrill through him.

Tonight, he didn’t want to talk.

“You,” he said. “Naked. Now.”

A wicked gleam filled her eye and she complied, kicking off her shoes and crossing her arms at her waist, then lifting her Belle’s polo shirt over her head and letting it drop to the floor in one graceful motion. She turned her back to him as she reached around and unhooked her bra, giving him a smooth look over her shoulder. Her hands disappeared in front before she shimmied out of her jeans, revealing her perfect ass and plain cotton underwear.

White had never looked so sexy.

She turned back around, legs positioned like a beauty contestant, one hand on her hip. He loved her confidence over her body, which was lithe and muscular from softball and manual labor at Belle’s. Her breasts were round and full and perfect.

“Your turn,” she said.