Royally Claimed - By Marie Donovan Page 0,34
stubbornly hush-hush about certain royal wedding details, including where the royal couple will honeymoon. Although we admire her loyalty, we’re forced to speculate on the location. Some rumors say they’ll jet off to the Caribbean or the Riviera, and some say they’ll set sail on the Royal Vinciguerran yacht through the Greek Isles.
One intriguing possibility is a stay on an exclusive private property, like the de Brissard lavender farm, the groom’s family chalet in the Bavarian Alps or even the extensive Portuguese ranch owned by Duke Francisco Duarte das Santas Aguas. Far away from the clubs, nightlife (and cameras), but of course most honeymooners are so tired and would rather turn in to bed early… Check back for more news from the only royal wedding site with an inside source—The Royal Review!
FRANK LEFT JULIA ASLEEP IN the pink-and-still-red bedroom and walked out on the stone balcony in a pair of shorts. He couldn’t concentrate on his thoughts if he saw her in that four-poster bed, remembering how she had let him dominate her all day and most of the night. By the end of the night, they’d stopped using protection since both of them were healthy and she was on birth control for her cycle.
He groaned at the memory of her hot, wet body surrounding him and forced himself to take a deep breath. She brought out all the machismo and male power running through his veins that he thought was dampened by modern society and time. The urge to plant his seed and watch it grow.
He stared out over the sea. He loved the early morning on Belas Aguas—and the waters lived up to their name of beauty, blue and sparkling in the eastern light. He was a man of contradictions, tied to his land in Portugal by seven hundred years of blood and sweat. But the sea was in his veins as well, thanks to a previous Duke of Santas Aguas who sailed west to claim a lonely green island in the middle of the ocean.
He had abandoned the sea since Julia had abandoned him. He froze. She hadn’t really abandoned him, he’d realized that after getting his head shrunk by the university counselor. But maybe deep down, he still felt that way. His brain knew that they had been very young and odds were against their relationship succeeding, but his heart wasn’t nearly as smart.
He peeked in the bedroom, almost to make sure she was still there. His phone sat on a table near the balcony door, and he picked it up, suddenly needing to talk to someone about his amazing situation. He called George’s private line.
“Hey, Frank! How are you? How are the renovations going?” George asked cheerfully.
Frank cringed guiltily. His time had been spent in more pleasurable activities than priming and painting walls—and boy, did those walls need it. “We bought the supplies and are starting to paint soon.” As soon as Julia picked out colors. But that meant they had to leave the island and go to the hardware store on São Miguel.
“And how is Benedito?”
Frank exhaled. “He’s fine, but he went back to the mainland when his wife was having some health problems.” He reassured George’s noises of concern. “No, nothing serious, as far as I understand.”
“I am glad.” George chuckled. “Quite a character, that man.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“But you are doing the work alone? Or do you have help now?”
“Julia is staying here with me.”
There was a long pause. “Then your meeting again is going well?” His worry was evident.
“Very well.” Frank couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of his voice. “She and I are working on the house.”
“Really.” His tone was dry. “Getting much work done?”
“George…” Frank choked back a snort.
His friend sighed. “None of my business, I know.”
“If you’re worried about the villa being ready, please don’t. I have a crew of men coming from São Miguel to do the heavy tasks—”
“Frank, the villa is the least of my concerns. You are worrying me more than the out-of-date paint colors.”
“They are pretty bad. I’ll email you a photo of what Benedito did before he left.”
George made an impatient noise. “Enough with the remodeling! I swear, between your interest in planning Stefania’s wedding and redoing the villa, I was beginning to worry about your machismo.”
Frank laughed. “Don’t worry about that.”
“But now I am worrying the other way! Are you sure you know what you are doing?”
“Did you know what you were doing when you invited Renata to Italy the same night you