Chapter 21
Ricard
My car waited at the resort’s entrance, but I lingered at my villa, my hands gripping the patio's stone balustrade as if anchoring myself to this beautiful but temporary escape.
Behind me, the sliding glass door opened, revealing Vincent Stone's confident stride. He joined me, his gaze fixed on the distant hills shimmering in the afternoon heat. “Beautiful view,” he said, his tone casual yet somehow imbued with the weight of understanding. “I never tire of it, even after all these years. Something about those hills makes everything else seem... ordinary.”
“I can see why,” I replied, though the beauty of Dove Canyon paled against the ache in my chest, an ache born not from the landscape but from the fleeting nature of my time here.
“Your car is ready whenever you are, Your Grace. No rush. I wanted to check if you needed anything before you leave.” Vincent’s voice carried a professional kindness that surprised me, a warmth beneath the polished veneer that seemed particular to him rather than part of the establishment's practiced hospitality.
“Thank you, but everything is in order. Sébastien has the logistics handled for my arrival in Dallas,” I assured him, doing my best to sound composed.
Vincent nodded, then hesitated, as if weighing his next words. “I hope your stay with us was... satisfactory,” he said. “Given thecircumstances of your departure, I understand you may not have experienced everything Dove Canyon has to offer.”
A hollow laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “On the contrary,” I said, unable to keep the edge of bitterness from my voice. “I believe I found something far more significant than what was advertised in your brochure.”
His smile acknowledged the weight of my words without needing elaboration. For a moment, we stood in silence, both aware of the unspoken name between us:Theo. I could still hear his parting words, still feel the ghost of his touch, still sense the hollow space his absence had carved within me.
“Will we see you again at Dove Canyon, Your Grace?” Vincent inquired, his tone deliberately light. “When your situation has resolved itself?”
“I hope so,” I said, knowing I was only half-convinced. The uncharted sea of my future loomed with responsibilities I wasn’t prepared to face. If Remy renounced his claim to the throne… “This place has been transformative,” I continued, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Though perhaps not in the way I initially anticipated when Julius recommended it.”
“In my experience, Your Grace, the most valuable experiences here are rarely the ones listed in our amenities package.” Vincent touched my shoulder, a surprisingly comforting gesture. “The door is always open. I believe you found something here worth holding onto, something beyond pleasure.”
I didn’t respond, but I appreciated his insight. Vincent understood the deeper yearnings that motivated people to come to Dove Canyon—yet how could I place those desires alongside my duties?
“I should go,” I said, straightening my posture. “My brother is waiting in Dallas.”
Vincent nodded, stepping back to allow me to pass. “Of course. I’ll walk you out.”
We moved through the resort in silence, my thoughts drifting back to Theo's face when we fought. The hurt in his eyes haunted me. I'd been harsh, defensive—hiding behind duty and title when I should have been honest.
"I handled things poorly with Theo," I admitted, surprising myself by speaking aloud.
Vincent paused. "Endings are rarely elegant, Your Grace."
"I suppose," I trailed off, unsure what I actually wished I'd said. That I cared? That in another life, things might have been different?
"Is there a message you'd like me to pass along?" Vincent asked quietly.
I considered it, picturing Theo's face, remembering how he'd looked at me like I was just a man, not a title. How freeing that had felt.
"No," I finally said. "Some things shouldn't be delivered secondhand."
At the resort's entrance, the sleek black car awaited. A driver stood at attention by the rear door, ready to open it at my approach. But next to the car stood Ibrahim Nassar, the imposing Master of the ranch, dressed impeccably in white leather.
“Your Grace,” he said, inclining his head slightly. “I wished to bid you farewell. I hope you found what you needed during your stay,” he added, extending his hand. “And if not, we’ll be here when you return.”
I grasped his hand, surprised to find sincerity in my voice. “This visit was life-changing. Whatever happens next, I won't forget what I experienced here.”
Vincent smiled. “That’s the best compliment we could receive.”
As I slid into the waiting car, the door closed with a firm thunk, sealing me in the leather-scented interior. Through the tinted window, Vincent and Ibrahim grew smaller, standing guard at the entrance to the world I was leaving behind, a world that had briefly offered the illusion of choice and authenticity.
I leaned my head against the cool glass, closing my eyes against the unexpected sting of tears. Ridiculous, I told myself, moody over a brief dalliance with a young man I had barely known but who had affected me in ways I didn’t yet comprehend. A duke of Avaline, heir to centuries of tradition, moved to emotion by a few days' connection with a brash young American who cared nothing for my title.
At least when I'm getting fucked, it's for a paycheck. You're the one who's really bound up, getting fucked over by your own family and calling it duty.
