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Watchingher as closely as he was, Aleki saw the exact moment Stella gave into her sense of duty. Her shoulders rose just a little, her back straightened, and emerald fire flashed in the depths of her eyes.
Fighting eyes, he’d called them in the past when they shone that way. She didn’t let them out often - his Stella was too reserved for that - but every now and then when faced with injustice they would shine, and he would stand back and watch in awe while she took on fights bigger than herself. The disability discrimination in the university’s swim team, the reduced funding to the arts faculty, the campaign for gender neutral bathrooms - the eighteen-year-old Stella who had captivated him so during his year of study abroad had no problems fighting for a noble cause.
Clearly she had come to the conclusion that Mae’s wedding was too worthy an event to risk ruining with her obvious distaste for her host.
Lucky for him.
His eyes lingered over her in a perusal that catalogued every change in her face and body since he’d left her slumbering in his Wellington apartment ten years ago.
Shame from how he’d handled the sudden call from his father demanding his return to the island still lapped at him, yet still his gaze slid hungrily over her creamy skin, set off perfectly by the stark black of her scoop neck tank dress. Lush waves of caramel and chocolate coloured tresses framed her cheeks, their blunt ends brushing against the top of her collarbones.
Desire tugged in his gut as he let his gaze travel down, to the rich curve of her breast, the sensual sweep of her hip flaring out from her waist, pausing at last as he reached his final destination, the anticipation gnawing at his senses as he reached her legs.
Miles long, lightly tanned and well-shaped, Stella’s legs had made both her first and final impression on him. The last time he’d been this close to those legs, he’d been untangling his own from them and sliding out from the cotton sheets tangled around their naked bodies to grab his phone before the vibration’s low murmur against his oak bedside table woke her.
Regret had flowed through his system as he’d dressed quietly in the dark and departed in the wake of his father’s call. Even now it left a sour tang in the back of his throat as he drank in the sight of Stella on his doorstep.
Here. For a week.
He loved Mae and her fiancé Luke, who’d been his first friend in New Zealand, but he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that the chance to see Stella again had factored into his eagerness to provide his estate for the happy couple’s nuptials.
“Come in,” he offered, stepping back and dragging her case across the threshold and onto the wide terracotta tiles of his foyer.
She followed it through the doorway, although a slight hesitation at the threshold belied her reluctance. Aleki watched as her expressive green eyes darted up towards the high white ceilings, intercut with exposed dark wooden rafters, and to the black wrought iron staircase with its Pacifica mosaic design that meandered up and around to the ornate internal balustrade that separated the second level of bedrooms and bathrooms from the living areas below.
A tight tangle of nervous energy pressed against Aleki’s chest from the inside as Stella took in her luxurious surroundings. Although he had a right to rooms in the royal estate currently occupied by his father, Aleki had chosen to build his own home on a private corner of the island, a haven from the politics of palace life and the photographers from international tabloids that still flocked to Avali in the warmer months to try and snap a picture of him in various states of undress.
I hope she likes it.
The thought sprang unbidden into his consciousness as Stella took further inventory of her surroundings.
“How many power points are in this area?”
Aleki’s anxiety around Stella’s opinion of his home vanished in the wake of her practical question.
Of course.
While he’d been hoping for a sign of her approval, she’d been cataloguing his electrical capacity.
He deserved no more.
“I’m not sure.” Apology coloured his voice. “You’d need to check with Lani, or with maintenance.”
For a private residence, Aleki’s home swarmed with too many damn people in his opinion. Every week he waited longingly for Sunday, the day of rest for the people of Avali, when a skeleton security staff monitored the perimeter leaving him blissfully undisturbed for one precious day.
“I’d like to see the papaya grove. Mae is hoping we can use it for the pre-wedding picnic and lawn games the day before the service.”
Seizing the opportunity, Aleki’s voice sprung forth before he could stop it.
“Connect Four?”
Stella’s eyes narrowed, emerald sparks flaring to life in her irises she made eye contact with him for the first time since entering the house.
“Not Connect Four.”
A flirtatious grin tugged at the corner of Aleki’s mouth.
“We always had a good time playing Connect Four, Stella.”
If looks could kill, he would be vapourised into small enough particles that Mae and Luke could use him as confetti during the ceremony. But not even the ferocity in Stella’s gaze was enough for him to ignore the memories of their last game of Connect Four that flooded through him. An epic battle of strategy, skill, and finally, with the pieces scattered across the bed like plastic rose petals, seduction. His blood stirred just remembering it.
“I’m sure we can find other activities to amuse you on the day, Your Highness.” Stella’s tone could have flash-frozen a bonfire. “After all, you’re such a very good player.”
Aleki’s dark gaze grew serious and he sought to capture her eyes so that she might be assured of his sincerity.
“I never played with you, Stella.”
“Of course not,” she responded flippantly. “‘Play’ implies a game. A game implies rules. You just took what you wanted and left.”
Hollowness ballooned in Aleki’s stomach. There it was, out in the open. And judging by Stella’s inflection and the ice in her eyes, she was in no mood to forgive or forget. Lowering his gaze, he did the only thing he could in the situation. A delicate withdrawal. There would be time later to convince her of his remorse. She was staying under his roof for a week, after all.
“I’ll show you to your bedroom. I’m sure you would find a nap beneficial.”
“Why? Do you have a flight to catch?”
Her barb hit home, the sardonic tone of her question contrasting with her saccharine smile fueling the fire of regret that still simmered low in his gut.
You never should have left her that way.
Aleki shook his head slightly to clear the chiding voice that had popped up to remind him of his cowardice in leaving Stella from time to time over the last decade. Since Mae had informed him Stella would not only be attending her wedding but arriving a week before the date to coordinate the event, that voice had been as persistent and unwelcome as the mosquitos that haunted the rainforest to the north of the island.
He had been young and frightened of the strength of his feelings for the beautiful brunette, not just the lust she inspired in him, but of how happy he was just sitting and talking with her. Even at eighteen, Stella Warren was a woman who made a man think dangerous thoughts – like commitment. Love. Forever.
Aleki had been burned by those thoughts before and the embers of distrust still smouldered in his heart. When King Tama had called in the milky hours of morning telling him to return home, he’d grabbed at the royal summons like a liferaft. If anything, his father’s voice had pulled him back from the messy brink of emotion faster than anything else could have. After Aleki’s mother’s death when he was three, the king had barely smiled. His entire focus was the kingdom. As Aleki’s should have been. But with Stella...
The playboy lifestyle he’d thrown himself into after leaving Stella’s slumbering frame had done nothing to stem his fascination with her. He was older now, and wiser. Wise enough to know that women like Stella were rare, and he wanted more than one night to lose himself in her.
Stella Warren was about to learn that Prince Aleki always got what he wanted.
