Kelly Hunter - Royals - His Hidden Secret - Revealed - A Prince and A Pregnancy / Date with a Surgeon Prince / The Secret King

Champagne flowed. Canapés were served on silver trays by circulating wait staff. Once the guests had settled and the champagne had begun to work its magic, Inigo announced the arrival of Mr and Mrs Luc Duvalier. They entered to generous applause and the strains of a lone violinist playing an unchained melody.

‘I love what you’ve done with the roses,’ Simone murmured to Inigo, who had moved to stand by the kitchen doors, the better to orchestrate seamless service.

‘I know ,’ he said. ‘Aren’t they divine? But really, I only had to arrange them. Rafe was the one who scoured the state to find them.’ Inigo eyed Rafael’s fine form and offered up a theatrical sigh. ‘It’s such a waste.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said Simone as she caught Rafael’s eye. Rafael knew they were studying him. He hadn’t overheard them, but he was hazarding a pretty good guess as to the topic of their conversation and his eyes promised retribution of the dark and edgy kind. ‘Not necessarily.’

Inigo smiled widely. ‘Did you see that look he just sent you? Call me a prophet but that’s not a merciful look from a merciful man.’

‘Mercy’s not really one of his strengths,’ said Simone and countered Rafael’s displeasure with a smile of pure challenge. Common sense clearly wasn’t one of hers.

‘Ow!’ said Inigo. ‘Sweetheart, you really shouldn’t poke at the man like that.’

‘Have you ever met a man who can take you straight to hell and make you burn for more, Inigo?’

‘No, but I’d like to. Send me a postcard. And don’t be shy if there’s anything I can do to help speed your impending trip into fiery oblivion. Cold water. Polar bears. Ice-train truck chains for restraining the vengeful angel over there, because seriously, my friend, he looks like he’s planning on burning in hell right along with you.’ Inigo shuddered theatrically. ‘You just tell Uncle Inigo what you need.’

Rafael straightened his tie, gritted his teeth, and did his bit to make Luc and Gabrielle’s guests feel welcome. It was an eclectic mix with figureheads of European winemaking dynasties mingling freely, and, to Rafael’s eye, quite readily with their Australian counterparts. Luc had never met some of the wedding guests before. Gabrielle had never met most of them. It didn’t seem to matter.

The reason it didn’t seem to matter wore a muted coffee-coloured sheath, a smile that never dimmed, and wielded hostessing skills that commanded Rafe’s respectful awe.

Poised and breathtakingly beautiful, and by dint of will and skill alone, Simone Duvalier merged the House of Duvalier and its associates with the House of Alexander.

Yes, it was true that Gabrielle and Rafael were the children of one of the most accomplished household estate managers in France, who up until recently had been in their employ.

Yes, indeed, Rafael had learned the art of making champagne from Simone’s late father, but the red-grape blends had beguiled him in a different direction. Yes, it was champagne’s loss—Simone’s father had considered Rafael’s champagne blends to be some of the finest the House of Duvalier had ever produced. In the last year of his life and as far as champagne was concerned, Phillipe had drunk nothing but the Caverness 1995 Special Reserve. It had been blended—under Phillipe’s guidance—by Rafael when he was fifteen. Yes, indeed, collaboration might well take place again between Rafael and Luc.

But wait until you tasted Rafael’s reds.

Gabrielle similarly, by way of Simone’s expansion on Gabrielle’s superior management and marketing skills, became a woman that Europe’s winemaking elite could not readily or sensibly ignore. In between building the Alexander family name, Simone polished the House of Duvalier’s reputation as a vibrant, progressive and wildly successful winemaking dynasty until it shone.

‘She’s a brilliant ambassador for them, isn’t she?’ murmured Gabrielle in one of the rare moments Rafe found himself alone with his sister.

‘Where did she learn all this stuff?’

‘Finishing school, on the job and at her father’s side. Luc says that when you left she turned to her work. She’d sacrificed the man she loved for her role in the family business. Damned if she was going to make a mess of her business obligations too. Sound familiar?’

Rafael took the hit in silence. Gabrielle’s expression softened.

‘She loved you, Rafael. With all that she was. But she’s loyal to her family too, and you left her nowhere to go. No workable solution whereby she could be with you and fulfil her family obligations as well. She couldn’t leave, you couldn’t stay. You can see how crucial she is to the running of the Duvalier winemaking empire.’

‘I see it,’ he said gruffly.

‘I want to thank you. For showing Simone around the vineyard. For supporting her in her role as bridesmaid today. I knew you could do it.’

‘Save it, angel,’ he muttered. ‘The night’s still young.’

‘I trust you,’ she said and pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Get to know her again, Rafe. For your own sake. She’s a remarkable woman.’

That was what he was afraid of.

As far as Simone’s extremely well-trained eye could see, everything was unfolding according to plan. The food was magnificent, they had ambrosia for wine, the setting was superb and the execution was flawless. Luc looked relaxed, Gabrielle divine, the guests appeared genuinely happy, and the formalities had been delivered in a mixture of languages and with a great deal of laid-back humour.

Harrison spoke fluent French, Dutch, German and passable Spanish and would prove a valuable addition to the future social events Simone had already started planning in her head.

Not your average Australian cattle farmer.

‘Stop working,’ said a dark, commanding voice as a tall glass of something that looked miraculously a lot like plain old iced water appeared in front of her. ‘Relax for a moment. I’m getting exhausted just watching you. And here, take this. Inigo said to give it to you.’

Inigo was a fiend who’d clearly surrendered to the dark side.

But she took the glass from Rafe’s outstretched hand and positioned him between her and the guests while she slaked her thirst for something without alcohol or bubbles in a most unladylike fashion.

She looked up on returning the glass to him to find that Rafe’s vivid blue eyes had darkened and his body had grown still.

‘I’m wondering which one’s real,’ he murmured. ‘The wanton sensualist or the poised and confident hostess?’

‘They both get a run every now and then,’ she said. ‘Which do you prefer?’

‘Well, that would depend on where you were. And who you were with.’

‘And were I alone with you in some dark secluded corner? Which would you choose then?’

‘You know which one I’d choose, princess.’

‘Actually, I don’t.’ She ignored the princess tag. For now. ‘When I kissed you the other day you definitely didn’t want wanton. You didn’t want any part of it.’

He regarded her in brooding silence. ‘I want to thank you for the build-up you gave the Alexander family tonight,’ he said finally. ‘I hardly recognised myself.’

Simone smiled. She’d embellished a little, but facts were facts. Rafael Alexander was a man to watch, both in business and for the sheer pleasure it afforded people to do so. ‘It might take a while to secure Gabrielle’s position as mistress of Caverness, but she’s made a good start and you and Harrison have helped in no small measure by being charming, successful and socially adept. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that you look like a fallen angel either.’