Page 8 of The Prince Who Loved Me

“Aren’t you, like, tenth in line?”

He did some quick calculations. “Sixteenth, but who’s counting? And one of my older sisters is pregnant.”

“For what it’s worth,” Rob repeated, “I’m with Wendy on this. Even over the summer when I didn’t know you guys I could tell there was some heat between you two.”

“Is that why you didn’t make a play for her? Because Brandi was mine?”

“No.” He tossed back the rest of his whiskey. “Because Wendy was mine.”

Chapter 3

Sebastien Casagnes had dined with queens and presidents, UN ambassadors and visiting dignitaries, the University of Georgia softball team and members of his regiment. He was on the board of charitable foundations and addressed large audiences.

Asking one woman to dinner shouldn’t be that hard.

He had combed his hair, shaved, chose a casual shirt Brandi had previously complimented and selected a pair of jeans. His bodyman stood by in their suite at the Inn, his stoic face giving nothing away.

He was ready. Now was as good a time as any. Hopefully he’d catch Brandi still in her room. He hadn’t told Wendy what he was planning. Didn’t want her knowing look or for her to be disappointed when Brandi turned him down. He knew what her arguments would be. They shouldn’t ruin their friendship. She had a sketchy past. He was royalty and her own mother was happy to drop her off at Grandma’s when she started cramping her mom’s lifestyle.

Those things had never mattered to him. But she had spent the past year learning and growing, and now maybe she’d be ready to take a chance. On herself, as well as on him.

He took the servants staircase to the third floor, raised his hand and knocked on her door.

She opened it and graced him with a huge smile. “Oh, good. I was coming down to see you.”

She was wearing a green shirt that provided a nice contrast to her blonde hair. Her makeup was flawless, though maybe a little heavy for a Sunday afternoon.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She shoved her phone at him. “Can you take mypicture? I want to get it done before the lawyer comes today for the rest of Grandma’s will.” She closed her door and shook out her hair.

Sebastien took in the line of closed doors. “In the hallway? The lighting is awful. You’d do much better outside.”

“You’re the artist.” She bounced down the back stairs.

Sebastien followed, turning over her phone in his hands. He’d invite her to dinner once they got outside. “What’s the picture for?”

“I decided I didn’t like my old one on the dating sites.” She paused on the landing to the second floor. “Do I look okay?”

He took the opportunity to openly stare, keeping his face purposefully neutral. Just looking at her made his heart beat faster. “You look like someone ready to have fun, but not for only one night.”

She gave a delighted laugh. “Good answer. I think my mom is supposed to come by, for the reading. I haven’t seen her since the funeral. Aunt Leslie, too, though I have seen her more often.”

Sebastien tamped down a flash of surprise at Brandi’s casual mention that Carolann was coming. From what Brandi had said, the woman had flitted in and out of her life once Brandi started living at Fountenoy Hall as a freshman in high school. Sebastien had met the woman only a handful of times.

Outside the sun was shining in the cloudless sky. Winters, if you could call it that at sixty degrees, were gorgeous in Georgia.

“By the peach orchard,” he said, striding down the expanse of lawn. He had been there sketching earlier in the week, enjoying the sounds of spring. The neat rows of almost-budding peach trees would provide a great backdrop.

“It look so bare without fruit,” she said.

Sebastien stopped her in front of the tree the cousinsused as a backup catcher when playing softball, posing her in awkward positions that would look great in the picture. Each snap of her phone dug a little deeper into him. Once he was done, she scrolled through, making noises of appreciation at each one.

“I look pretty good.” She took his phone. “And now it’s your turn. You’re already dressed up. Got a date later?”

“My turn for what?”

“To pose. To find yourself a nice girl.” She waved her hand. “Now smile and sayfromage.”