The Bossy Prince (Rugged and Royal #3) - Lili Valente Page 0,36
that stand in the way of true love. Nothing should stand in the way of that. Not ever.”
“We agree,” I cut in. “But Jeffrey and Lizzy have just announced their engagement, and Andrew and Sabrina have been married less than a year. We felt it was best to keep our relationship a secret for now, to ensure our siblings have their full hour in the spotlight.”
“And we just found out that Jeffrey and Lizzy are pregnant. Now. Before the wedding,” Zan adds, wisely directing Beatrice’s attention to something more scandalous than our secret relationship. “Plenty of drama to go around right now without Nick and me piling on.”
Beatrice’s eyes begin to shine as she sits back in her chair, pressing a hand to her chest over her dark green swimsuit cover-up. “Oh, but that’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for Lizzy. I remember playing dolls with her when we were little and how tender she was with her babies. She’s going to be an incredible mother. Just…incredible.” She sniffs and swipes at her cheeks. “Sorry. I’m so broody lately.” She laughs. “I can’t wait to start trying for a baby. But my fiancé wants to wait until we’re married. We’re thinking August. In Capri. Of course, you’re both invited.”
She snaps her fingers. “Which reminds me.” She reaches into the bag by her feet, pulling out a key chain with a small silver circle dangling from it. “I haven’t fed my fur baby.” Her brows furrow as she taps at the small buttons on the device. “Don’t judge me, Zan.”
“I’m not,” Zan insists.
“Yes, you are. I can feel it,” Bea says. “But Stefano and I are having a contest to see who can keep our Digi-Mal alive the longest. I’m winning, and I never win at anything, so I’m determined to stay ahead.”
“Stefano?” Zan echoes thinly. Her fingers curl into a fist on top of the table, assuring me the same alarm is blaring inside her head that’s roaring inside of mine.
“Yes,” Beatrice says, smiling the secret smile of a blissful bride-to-be. “He’s my fiancé. Do you know him?”
“I do. Love the man. An absolute blast to party with,” I say, as doom stops impending and plummets like a grand piano falling three stories to the sidewalk where I’m standing.
Beatrice isn’t just dating a bad guy.
She’s engaged to marry the biggest and baddest guy of them all.
Fuck, fuck, and fuck it all again.
Chapter Thirteen
Alexandra
Everything is shit.
Absolute shit.
Back in our room, I pace in front of the bed while Nick grabs a shower, and I do my best not to think of my sweet, innocent cousin rolling around in a similar bed with a murdering, human-trafficking, drug-smuggling sleazebag.
Beatrice has no idea she’s in danger, but I do, and my imagination is working overtime.
I want to call Sabrina and demand she tell me how to convince Beatrice to dump Stefano and go home. Right now. Do not wait until morning, do not spend another second with a man who has a history of “misplacing” girlfriends permanently.
But I can’t.
Can I?
“I should call Sabrina,” I say, trying out the words as Nick emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. I’m so upset not even the sight of him in a pair of snug black pants and no shirt can pull me from my panic spiral. “They were always close, and Sabrina is good with people. She’ll know how to get through to her. And while I’m at it, I can confess I’m here with you before Bea spills the beans. That way, we set the tone and control the message.”
“Too late.” Nick reaches into his back pocket, swiping at the screen on his cell before tossing it my way.
I catch the phone, glancing down as Nick opens the wardrobe against the wall, cursing beneath my breath as I skim the group text from his brothers.
Jeffrey: What the hell are you doing? You couldn’t have found someone else—anyone else—to keep your bed warm over the holiday?
Andrew: I doubt he needs his bed warmed in Bali. He’s probably sleeping naked, making it that much easier for Zan to murder him in his sleep. A pair of cozy winter pajamas offers at least some protection. Naked, he’s a sitting duck.
Jeffrey: Good point. She doesn’t like you, Nick. She might be distracted by sex right now, but sooner or later, the endorphin rush will wear off, and she’ll remember she hates your guts.
Andrew: And then she’ll break your heart. Or your face. Maybe both.