“There you are! I brought you more champagne,” Gigi said loudly as she hurried to his side. “Here, have another. You look like you could use it.”
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to get me drunk.” It was meant to be a joke, but the way her face fell was just another hint to Quincy that this was not the woman he should be with. She was more concerned with bedding him than wedding him. “I think I’ve had enough for the night.”
“I could bring you something else,” she offered and rubbed her hip against his.
Quincy set the glass down on the tray of a passing servant. “No, I’m afraid today has been draining. I’ll see my father and stepmother off, then I shall retire for the evening.”
“Are you sure, Your Highness? I could join you for a late night drink if you want.”
“No, thank you, Gigi. Not tonight, but maybe tomorrow when I’m more rested.” He needed her to go away before anything ruder came out of his mouth, but she stayed by his side, watching the people with him.
Near the door, the announcer banged his staff on the floor three times, calling for silence as Lamont and Melinda stopped at the door with bright smiles on their faces and glasses of champagne in their hands.
“We wish to thank all of you again for attending, but the hour is late, and alas, we are not as young as we used to be,” Lamont said with a wink. “Please, enjoy the rest of the night on us!”
He lifted his glass in toast to his new wife, and they left the ballroom to the sound of loud applause and cheering. Quincy clapped with them, a smile spreading across his lips for a few moments before he felt it falter again. He gave Gigi a very quick goodnight and followed the king and queen out of the ballroom, except that he turned left instead of right, making his way to his room. The king and queen would spend their wedding night together in a private villa far out in the middle of nowhere so they wouldn’t be disturbed. A mini honeymoon for them to have before Melinda’s coronation.
Quincy wanted to disappear with them, to vanish from the isle and go missing so he could avoid the wedding he didn’t want to attend. If only it were that easy to run away and take Olivia with him, somewhere no one could find them. If only he wasn’t a damn prince.
His gaze drifted down the corridor, but he didn’t want to bother her. She’d said it herself plenty of times—trying was pointless. He might be willing to give up everything for her, but she wasn’t.
Fighting every instinct to charge into her room and make her see reason—even if that meant kissing her until the sun came up and she saw he didn’t care about anything but her—he walked into his room and sagged against the doors.
“I was wondering when you’d show up.”
He thought he was hearing things and shook his head, but when he lifted his eyes, there she stood on the balcony with the moon shining brightly behind her.
“Hello, Quincy.”
As he straightened, he swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to leave a painting for you. I’m getting everything ready to go for when I leave in a couple of hours,” she said, and her eyes darted away from him for only a second. She was up to something.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said as he walked towards her, stopping about ten feet away. His hands twitched towards her, but he stayed where he was. “Really, Olivia, it’s fine. I know you need those for your portfolio.”
“I want you to have this one,” she said and returned to the balcony.
She came back in holding the painting of the cove and the couple making love on the beach. Her cheeks were red as she handed it to him, and when his fingers brushed hers as he took it, her breath caught in her chest. Quincy saw how she trembled and knew all he had to do was pull her close and kiss her to make her melt in his arms. Carefully, he set the painting aside and let his fingers reach out to brush longingly down her cheek, running them through her hair and down to her neck.
“Quincy,” she whispered, a warning and a want tangled together as her eyes closed.
He didn’t stop and let his hand trail farther down to her side, bringing her close against his body. That close, he could feel her chest rise with every breath she took, and he pressed his cheek against her hair, breathing her in. Her hands crept forward to his shirt, tugging him even closer as her mouth searched for his. Their breath mingled when he lowered his head, but their lips barely brushed before she started and pushed herself away hard.
“No, we can’t.”
“Olivia, stop.”