The Broken Prince (Royal Billionaires of Mondragón Book 3) Read online

  “I’ve heard enough nonsense,” Alvaro muttered. He planted a passionate but brief kiss on Brooke’s lips before letting her go and storming the cabin.

  Gin shrieked and then bawled. Alvaro ignored her and crashed a fist into Seth’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor.

  Seth sat up slowly, cradling his jaw, his expression furious. “I’m going to sue you for this, you royal—”

  “Get out!”

  As Alvaro turned dismissively, Seth got up and lunged for him.

  “Alvaro, behind you!” Brooke warned.

  But she was too late. Seth shoved him and sent him reeling across a couch where he hit his head on the side table and lay limp.

  Gin continued to ugly cry while Seth dragged her. The two siblings staggered out into the hall, giving Brooke glowering looks and shoving their way past her.

  Brooke ran into the room and sat next to Alvaro on the couch. Her heart pounded painfully when Alvaro didn’t respond to her. Had she come this far only to lose him? To her immense relief, he had a weak but sure pulse. She kissed his forehead and cradled him close.

  Alvaro raised a hand to his head. “Ouch.”

  “What is it?” she asked, looking for a wound or bump.

  “I think I hit my head.” He blinked. “Brooke. You’re here.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t leave you.”

  “I mean you’re really here.” He raised his fist. “And this hurts.”

  She smiled, not able to speak with her happiness. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

  “And…” He blinked. “Things are coming back to me now. Memories. My incognito America tour.” His dark eyes zoned in on Brooke. “Meeting you.”

  With tears in her eyes, Brooke stared at his hurt hand. Alvaro’s breath hitched in his throat as she reached for it and gently pulled it to her lips, planting gentle kisses along his knuckle.

  Anger clouded his face. “And Seth. I dated his sister maybe once or twice, but that was it. Seth tried to set us up. He wanted more control of me and our band. And I just wanted out.” He groaned. “Ah. It hurts to think about things.”

  “Then rest, my love.”

  “But first…” His hand trailed her waist and hip, his other knuckle tracing her neck. Brooke turned to mush, and he hadn’t even kissed her.

  “I think that solves all that,” Alvaro murmured against her mouth.

  “What solves what?” a man’s voice said.

  Brooke and Alvaro leaned slightly away from each other to look at Oscar who was staring at them from the door.

  Oscar smirked. “Glad to see that my plan worked. I knew that as long as I got you together, you wouldn’t be able to resist each other.”

  “Ooh, you meddler,” Brooke scolded, but she allowed Alvaro to hold her.

  “Could you please give us a private moment?” Alvaro told Oscar, mock scowling.

  “I think I’ll go back to talking to the captain.” Oscar did an about-face and made his way back to from the helm.

  Brooke parted her lips to protest, but Alvaro captured her mouth, swallowing her words into a sweet, languorous kiss. The sensations the kiss brought made her think of lazy days on the lake, where life seemed perfect and happiness waited at the next bend.

  His arm circled her waist and brought her closer, until their hearts beat as one.

  Where had he been all her life?

  Oh, right, he had been a playboy rock star prince.

  She pulled away, her resolve nearly weakening as she saw his tortured gaze, still hungry and wanting to continue kissing her. But they needed to have the conversation.

  Planting her hands on his chest, she pushed him away gently.

  “What’s wrong?” he said, his voice husky. Hypnotic.

  “How can I know I’m your one and only girl?”

  “Well,” he said wryly, “so far no one else is vying for that title.”

  “Not true.”

  “I mean, I’m not auditioning anyone else for the part.” His gaze turned raw and vulnerable. “I can’t offer you any other assurance than the promise that I do love you. I had my past life. I made my mistakes. Some, I believe, have been blown out of proportion by the media. I wouldn’t put it past Seth that he planted those salacious stories for the press. I do know it was his idea to make the public think I was a playboy for more publicity.”

  “Salacious.” Brooke smiled. “You use such big words for a simple girl from Redding, Utah.”

  He touched her cheek, making her tremble. “That’s what I love about you. You’re so uncomplicated and real. In just the few days I’ve been back, I realize now that royal life can be full of fakery. I want real. I want you. Only you for the rest of my life.”

  She was almost afraid to speak. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning…” He dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me, Brooke?”

  Brooke covered her mouth with one hand, unable to respond.

  The memories flashed in her mind—that first day they met, when she thought he was the most arrogant guy. But then later, him, redeeming himself with his sweetness. Could she look beyond his past so they could have a future together?

  She put her arms around his neck and nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

  “You will?” he sounded surprised. Dazed.

  “Yes, my duke. I love you too.”

  He grinned as he stood and took her back into his arms. “I love that nickname. You’ll have to whisper that in my ear when we’re alone.”

  “All right, my duke.” She melted against him, longing for another kiss.

  He didn’t disappoint, pulling her close and giving her a kiss they would remember for the rest of their days.

  Epilogue

  Two months later, Mondragón

  “Where is she?” Alvaro said, adjusting the collar of his tuxedo as he stood by the arch of flowers for the outdoor wedding ceremony. The palace trees had turned various shades of breathtaking harvest colors.

  “She’s coming; I’m sure,” his brother Diego said, who stood beside him as best man. “If this were the end of a soccer match, she’d still make it with minutes to spare.”

  “Everything is a soccer match for you,” Alvaro retorted. Then relented. “Sorry, I guess I’m just nervous.”

  “I don’t see why you should be. She’s just somewhere in the palace. How lost could she get?”

  There was a hush among the crowd on the beautiful lawn of Mondragón Castle, and a full orchestra played the “Wedding March.”

  Brooke came out of the double doors, escorted by Oscar. She wore a stunning long-sleeved Bohemian-style gown with a crown of wildflowers, her hair curled and gathered loosely with blossom accents.

  Alvaro should never have doubted her. Here she was, as promised, and worth waiting for.

  The officiator was a bishop from her church. The front rows were taken up by her mother, stepfather, and a few other of Brooke’s relatives. Alvaro’s two older brothers, his twin Felipe, and their wives also sat in the same vicinity. Their other brother—black sheep Mateo—had sent Mother a message that he might make it but backed out at the last minute.

  Alvaro’s gaze connected with his mother’s, who had put on a brave face despite Mateo’s broken promise. Alvaro hoped she wasn’t dwelling on her rebellious son, nor on the fact that Alvaro and his bride were of a different religion. Mother had been skeptical at first, but they shared the same values. After some heart-to-heart talks with the couple, Mother gave her blessing.

  Gazing at Brooke’s lovely, glowing face, Alvaro could understand why Mother finally relented. It was obvious that she loved him as much as he loved her. Especially since Mother could see Brooke’s calming influence on him. No more wild parties, no more late nights, no more excesses. No more rock band.

  Instead, he wanted to start a luxury fishing charter with his wife-to-be. Beyond that, he wanted nor needed nothing else in his life except for this wonderful girl who was walking up to him with that lovely smile.

  Oscar, good man
that he was, handed her over with a sniffle and wet eyes before joining their mother and stepfather in the audience. Alvaro hoped he would eventually make it right with Phoebe, or find another girl who could love his unique self. Having him settle down would make Brooke happy.

  When Brooke came to a stop before Alvaro, her perfume tantalizing his senses and with love shining in her eyes, Alvaro knew his life would soon be complete.

  After their wedding, they would honeymoon fittingly at Lake Powell. He couldn’t wait to explore all of it with Brooke.

  Then afterward…they would take on the world like a voyage on a boat, exploring canyons and docking at promising bays. They would lie side by side at night, sated with love while admiring the stars and all the worlds that remained to be discovered.

  “Happy, my duchess?” he murmured.

  Her eyes glimmered. “Very, my duke.”

  Alvaro tucked her hand on his arm and faced the officiator, who began their ceremony. Occasionally, Alvaro turned to Brooke, checking to make sure that this lovely creature was truly there and not a figment of his wild imagination. Because how lucky could a prince get?

  Finally, the bishop announced, “You may now kiss the bride.”

  Alvaro faced his bride—now his wife. Brooke’s eyes glistened with happy tears. He raised his hand to her cheek to brush off a tear as it rolled down.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against his hand. “I love you too.”

  With those sweet words, Alvaro’s hand slipped to the back of her head and tipped her face up to his. Her eyes fluttered shut, and a little sigh escaped her lips.

  Together, they would find a lasting happiness that—like Lake Powell’s landscape that had withstood the test of time—would last through the years.

  Alvaro kissed Brooke with tenderness and all his passion, cherishing this moment when she was finally his and he was hers, in a forever love.

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