PRINCE CHARMING: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance(13)
Their eyes met, and they stared at each other, not paying any attention to their guards or servants or passersby on the street. All Quincy saw were her eyes and the questioning look in them before he forced himself to let go of her hand.
“The way we talk,” he said, clearing his throat and continuing walking, “that’s how I want it to be with whomever I marry. How can I know that will work if I can’t spend time with the woman beforehand?”
Olivia nodded, and he saw her tuck a stray curl behind her ear as a small smile touched her lips. “Then I guess you need to start dating your potential wives. Spend time with them like you are with me.” His steps slowed, and he looked at her. “That’s not what I meant! I mean… not like with me, but like how we’re doing right now,” she said quickly, muttering until his laughter stopped her.
“I know what you meant, Olivia. I can only hope one of those women is not as shallow as they all look.” If only one of those women was you. The thought crossed his mind so suddenly, he paused. Then Quincy resumed walking, as if he hadn’t realized something great and terrible at the same time.
“Here it is,” he said hurriedly, to push those dangerous thoughts away.
They passed under another archway over the street with metal gates simply for decoration. The courtyard they entered was one of the best places in the city. It was where Quincy would often go despite his father’s assumption that he only hung out at clubs. He turned to see Olivia’s reaction and was not disappointed. Her eyes moved across the street painted in various shades of tans and whites that trailed into blues to look like the ocean that surrounded the island. The walls that lined the sides showed scenes of palm trees and large pink and purple hibiscus flowers, vines trailing up with small white blooms. Off in the distance was the best painting of all. The water crashed against the rocks which were set against a jaw-dropping saffron and vermillion sunset so well-painted that it looked real.
“Who did all this?” Olivia asked quietly beside him. She turned in a circle, taking it all in.
“A local artist my father found about a decade ago. He did most of the city and died last year, but we do a good job of keeping everything looking fresh.”
She nodded in agreement as she turned again, but the smile fell from her face and she hung her head. “Why do they keep doing that?”
Quincy thought she was talking about the bodyguards on their radios, but when he turned, he saw a group of women, young like Olivia, glaring at her as she stood so close to him. He smiled at them and waved. Instantly, they grinned and giggled.
“They think I’m courting you,” he said quietly.
“What?”
“I’m single, remember? All the women on the island want the attractive prince.”
“Then maybe you should tell them we’re not dating so they stop looking like they’re going to jump me.”
“I don’t know. This could be quite entertaining,” he said as he rubbed his chin.
“Quincy,” she warned. “Seriously? As your future sister, if you don’t tell them the truth, I fill find a way to embarrass the hell out of you.”
“How’s that?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, and a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something. Do you want to take that risk?” Olivia was no longer the sweet woman from Nebraska but something else entirely. He felt as if he stared at a bit of himself—a prankster and someone who did not back down.
He grinned widely at her, bowed his head, and turned to the young women and everyone else gathered in the courtyard. “If I may have everyone’s attention, please?”
The people quieted and stopped to listen to their prince, even though their gazes returned to Olivia again and again.
“I know many of you have heard that my father, King Lamont, will be taking a new wife this summer. Olivia,” he said as he motioned to her, “is the future queen’s daughter and therefore the new princess. Please welcome her to our lovely island kingdom.”
Quincy reached back and took Olivia’s hand to pull her forward as the crowd applauded and cheered for her. They started to move towards them, and each one wanted to shake hands with the new princess. It had been a long time since they’d had one on the island, and Quincy could tell they were quite excited to meet this woman from US. He worried how she would handle such a crowd, but Olivia took it in stride as she shook each one of their hands and smiled in greeting. She even went so far as to ask their names and what they did on the island.
When the group of young women approached, now all smiles and curtsies, Olivia actually pulled them aside to speak with them on their own.
“Are you girls in classes right now?” she asked.
“We are, princess,” the brunette with dark tanned skin said with a smile.
“Let me guess, you’re a painter and you draw. Pastels or charcoal?”
“Charcoal,” the girl said with a laugh. “How could you tell, princess?”
Quincy leaned closer, too, curious.
“The paint that’s still in your hair,” she told the brunette, “and the charcoal that always stains your fingers, no matter how hard you scrub. I’m a painter, too.”
The girls smiled even wider and started talking with their friends excitedly in French. He could tell Olivia had no idea what they were saying, but they turned back to her, bouncing on the balls of their feet, as the brunette asked if they could show her something.