Page 5 of The Prince Who Loved Me

It was after ten when Sebastien drove down the tree-lined drive to Fountenoy Hall, past the drinks hour where Wendy would be serving as hostess for guests eager for a few fingers of whiskey from Belle’s Medicinal Brewery. Brandi craned her neck, looking up at the family rooms on the third floor, her long hair tickling his arm. Everything was dark.

The aroma of her lavender rosemary shampoo lingered as she straightened. Usually she carried with her the scent of sugar, sometimes oak, especially after being at Belle’s all day.

“Arriving late was a good plan,” she said. “Now I don’t have to use the secret passageways to get to my room without Wendy seeing.”

Sebastien pulled into the lot behind the large building and turned off the car. “So what’s next?”

Brandi tilted her head to look into Sebastien’s eyes. He held her frank gaze, enjoying the chance to just look at her.

“How come you’ve never had a steady girlfriend? Ten years ago there was always some woman hanging around. But no one lately.”

The question took him off guard, but he laughed it off, even as he ached to skim his fingers down the smooth contours of her cheek. He’d drawn them in his sketch book often enough to have the lines memorized. “How do you know? Maybe I come to Fountenoy Hall when I want a break away from her.”

“No, you would have told us.”

Sebastien shrugged, his chest tightening. It was the perfect opening to confess his feelings.

“I want what Rob and Wendy have. What Jordan and Josh have.” Brandi sat back, a wistful note in her voice. “What Wendy’s parents have. Love. Family. Acceptance. My momwould always say how boring it must be to sleep with the same man for decades, but the longest she was ever with a man was three years.” She ran her finger along the leather crease of the seat.

“When are you going to let me jet you off to my castle and turn you into a princess?” One of these days, she’d realize he was serious.

She laughed, as usual. “You always know what to say to make me feel better, Prince Charming.” She reached for handle and let herself out of the car.

Sebastien hauled her luggage out of the trunk and followed her to the back door. They entered the deserted kitchen.

A voice came from the darkness. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Brandi jumped at the sound, but Sebastien reached for the light and revealed Wendy standing in the far corner by the butler’s pantry, holding a plate of chocolate chip cookies. She brought up a hand to shield her eyes, her long night shirt scooting up her legs. Her dark hair was splayed around her shoulders instead of in her customary ponytail. “You startled me. I wasn’t expecting you home for two days.” She gave Sebastien a quick glance with raised eyebrows. He knew what she was asking: how he got involved when he was supposed to be out of town.

She ought to know the answer. Brandi came calling, and he was there.

“Yeah, well, things changed.” Brandi’s voice took on a defensive tone and her hands moved a little, before Sebastien saw her forcibly relax. He wanted to hug her right there. She was learning. Not everything from her cousin was criticism.

Footsteps sounded down the servants stairs, and Rob made an appearance in the kitchen, casual in a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. “Ah, that’s what kept you down here.”

It was Sebastien’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“Get your mind out of the gutter. I was getting snacks for our movie.” She slid the cookies onto the counter. “What are you doing home, anyway?”

“Got any whiskey?” Brandi asked.

Wendy rolled her eyes. “You get it.”

Brandi collapsed onto one of the stools surrounding the island. “But I’m sooo tired.”

“Seriously?” Wendy snorted.

“I’ll get it,” Rob volunteered. He opened the cabinet that usually housed the bottle.

“Aunt Eulalee finished that one this morning when making syrup. We’ll have to get it out of the library.” Wendy grabbed a cookie and a napkin and followed him out of the kitchen.

Brandi rested her head against the flat island surface. It was rather strange being in the kitchen without Brandi’s great-aunt Eulalee bustling about on the tiled floor, hopping from the wash sink to the six burner stove.

“Let me make you some coffee,” Sebastien said. It would give him something to do with his hands, which needed to run through her glorious blonde hair.

“Naw, come sit with me.” She patted the stool next to her. It would require them to be in contact from thigh to shoulder.

“I think I need some.” He scooted over to the coffee maker, which was innocently sitting on the counter next to the microwave, against the backdrop of the black and green tiled walls.