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“Of course.” Nolan handed her over, smiling at his son’s emphasis on the word wife.
Jennifer laughed. “Oh my, Mr. Crown Prince, you seem to really love that moniker.”
“All the better because you’re all mine now, my dear.”
A new song began, and Tristan whisked Jennifer away. Their eyes lit up and their bodies melded together.
Nolan was thrilled for their happiness. If only he could share this with Anne. It was always more special having her to share these moments with. Most of his sons and especially his sweetheart daughters-in-law had pushed him to ‘think about dating’ or ‘open his heart to the possibility of falling in love again.’
Nolan never scoffed at them, of course. He always kept a smile on his face as he gently told them he wasn’t ready, but inside he recoiled at the thought. He had neither the time nor the energy to date, and he doubted he’d ever find a love like Anne’s again. He and Anne had been friends for years. She’d actually dated Henry in college, but after college Nolan and Anne had slowly fallen in love. Their love had been steady, enduring, and committed. She’d always been there for him, their children, and their kingdom. Anne had been a shining beacon of sweetness, charity, and beauty.
He’d need a sign from heaven to know when the time was right. Currently, several women who had to be closer to Tristan and Ray’s age than his were eyeing him as if he were a Lindt chocolate bar and they hadn’t indulged in years. Blast that internet article claiming he was the most powerful, handsome, and wealthy bachelor over thirty, not to mention a king. The article had shown him stepping out of his Lamborghini Veneno. It had gone viral, and his guards had become busier keeping conspiring women away than keeping him safe from Naomi Rindlesbacher.
He averted his gaze, searching for one of his family members. He bumped into someone soft and firm at the same time.
“Pardon me,” he said, glancing down into the emerald eyes of none other than Madeline Prescott, Chad’s mum and one of the only members of parliament who always made him smile.
“I suppose I have no choice but to pardon you, seeing as you are ‘King Papa’,” she teased with a smile on her stunning face. She was a celebrated beauty, and he knew men pursued her constantly, but she’d been single as long as Nolan had known her. Chad was his son Tristan’s best friend, and he’d shared with Nolan that his dad deserted them when he was four and he had only foggy memories of a smiling man who had laughed a lot.
Nolan should’ve teased and walked away, but for some reason—melancholy at marrying off the last of his sons, lonely and imagining Madeline might relate to his plight as a brave single mum, or was it recklessly brave as the last time she approached him at a wedding Madeline was carrying a bomb—he eased in closer and said, “Join me for a dance?”
Her eyes widened. She looked him over, and Nolan found himself straightening. He’d heard from different sources, besides the internet articles, that he was ‘devastatingly handsome’ and ‘fit and perfectly proportioned.’ He always laughed at such terms, usually flung at him by Ellery’s Aunt Elise who was as inappropriate as she was fun.
“Your bravery is lauded throughout Europe, but are you certain you want to dance with me? You and I don’t have an encouraging track record at weddings.”
Nolan chuckled, happy he could do so. At Malik and Sophie’s wedding two months ago, Madeline had been drugged and staggered his direction with a bomb disguised as a present.
“A dance with you is worth the risk,” he thought he said as gallantly and charming as Malik or her son Chad might, “Unless you’re hiding a bomb in that lovely dress?”
“I guess you’ll have to find out.”
“Dance with me so I can.” He was surprised by his insistence and how much he wanted this dance.
“Who am I to refuse the king?” She smiled, and Nolan knew it was only a tease. She was confident and independent, and he doubted she’d ever needed a man in her life. Not that it mattered to him if Madeline Prescott was happily single or gave in to one of the many men pursuing her.
He gave her his most alluring smile, practiced when he was younger with his poise coach, and offered his hand. She pressed her palm against his and something warm and real passed between them. Nolan startled and thought she did as well. He threaded their fingers together, hoping he appeared nonchalant. At the exact same moment, he cupped his hand around her smooth waist, his palm covering from her waistline down to the curve of her hip, and she wrapped her palm and fingers around his shoulder.
They each drew in a telling breath, and he felt an impossible tingly warmth work its way through his body at each point of contact. They stared at each other, and neither of them moved or spoke. He’d never seen Madeline at a loss for words. He could hardly blame her as he had no idea what to say and he’d been trained throughout his life to always have the correct response on his lips.
“Mum. King Nolan.” Chad waltzed up to them with his fiancée Hope in the circle of his strong arms. “It’s customary to move to the music.” His charming smile was easy-going, and thankfully he didn’t realize Nolan was at a loss, stunned by the feelings Madeline created in him.
“Thank you for the reminder,” Nolan murmured, smiling as well. “I was so taken aback by your mum’s beauty, I fear I’ve forgotten my own name.”
“And I thought I was the king of charming lines,” Chad teased.
“You are, love, but the king is pretty good.” Hope grinned and then they waltzed off.
Nolan forced his feet into motion, guiding Madeline around the dance floor. He’d waltzed so many times throughout his life the movement was automatic, but he couldn’t recall feeling this energized, alive, and light while dancing. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see that they were floating.
Nolan pushed all those unfamiliar and irrational thoughts away. They felt like a betrayal of Anne. He’d enjoyed dancing with his wife, of course he had, but had it ever been like this? He peeled his gaze from Madeline’s riveting emerald eyes and tried to focus on the crowd. The dance floor was crowded with couples, but there was enough room to move and not brush against or run into another couple. The temperature was perfect, and the sweet scent of gardenias emanated from the decorations. Or maybe that was Madeline. Why was he sweating?
Many of his children were dancing by and giving him significant looks. He’d better not act so besotted with Chad’s mum or he would surely hear about it. He focused back on her, determined to act comfortable and tease as they always did. It wasn’t flirting as Hattie and Aliya had tried to goad him into admitting once. It was light-hearted banter.
Was that any different than flirting? Hmm.
Madeline’s mouth was slightly open as she stared at him. Had her lips always been so full and … intriguing?
He mentally slapped himself. What was he thinking? It was a simple dance. With one of his son’s best friend’s mums, and a high-ranking member of parliament. Madeline usually baited or joked with him, and he always laughed and responded. He enjoyed their interactions, as nobody but his family and Henry ever seemed confident enough to let down their guard around the ‘powerful, brave, and alluring king’.
