Their Christmas Royal Wedding

‘Well, clearly I am not royal enough. Why? Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’ She lifted a hand to her cheek. ‘I am so angry and so mortified I could...’

‘Could what?’ His tone was low but harder now. ‘Ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for? You told me this ball was important. For you and for your country. As it is for mine. If you don’t want to blow this you need to pull it together. This is political now—if the public or the press believe we are fighting this will have ramifications on our two countries. Do you understand?’

Dear God, this was not going to plan but he needed her to get it and she did; he saw the understanding touch her eyes, watched her expression smooth to a semblance of serenity. She inhaled a deep breath and nodded. ‘Fine. You’re right. I understand.’

‘Good. And, ma’am?’

‘Yes.’

‘I truly do apologise.’

She shook her head, but the smile on her face made the gesture appear casual. ‘You let me make a fool of myself.’ Now guilt touched him as he remembered again how worried she had already been about the evening.

‘No! Gabriella. You didn’t.’ Without even meaning to he put a finger under her chin, tilted her face up so she looked directly into his eyes. And he saw the pain but also saw how hard she tried to conceal it. Remembered that until recently Gabriella Ross hadn’t even set foot in Casavalle; she had not been brought up to mask emotions and play a role. And he had no right to expect her to.

He, Cesar Asturias, ambassador extraordinaire, had screwed up and now he needed to fix it. ‘I swear it.’ He would not have her undone for his own fault. So, ‘Smile. Look at me as if you like me.’

‘I’ll try.’ She sighed and the sheer weariness in that breath touched him, as he understood just how hard this was for her.

‘You liked me yesterday. I am that same man.’

‘No. You aren’t. You are a prince, not an employee; you lied to me. Misled me, duped me, whatever term you wish to use.’

‘I kept my identity from you and I truly apologise for that. It was a mistake. But everything else I said was true, was real. Think back to my words. None of them were lies. Not one.’ He waited as she bit her lip, studied his expression.

‘Not one?’ she asked softly.

‘No.’ That he knew. ‘I promise.’

Perhaps she heard the sincerity in his voice. In truth, for the past few minutes he had forgotten that they weren’t alone, had wanted her to believe him with a fierceness that was out of proportion. Disquiet touched him and he dismissed it. It was vital he win her over, or the chances of her considering his suit were minimal. That explained the ridiculous swathe of relief when she gave a small nod and smiled a small but this time genuine smile.

‘For the sake of this evening and for the man I met last night I will give you the benefit of the doubt. But I wish that letter of explanation had reached me.’

‘Perhaps I could explain in person. Tomorrow. We could go for a ride.’

‘I have engagements all day.’

‘At the end of the day, then. We could have a picnic supper; leave the details to me. Meet me at the stables.’

As she hesitated, he suspected he knew the cause, knew he was right as he saw her lips twist half in rue, half in exasperation. ‘I understand you need to check before you accept—that is part of royalty. Sometimes simple decisions have ramifications.’ He also knew there would not be a problem. If she asked Queen Maria, consent would be granted—after all, Queen Maria had agreed this marriage would be a good one, though had stipulated she would not force Gabriella into it.

‘If it is the genuine wish of both, and they both believe they can have a happy life together, then and only then will I believe that this will work.’

Gabriella nodded. ‘I’ll confirm with you later. And now I must mingle. I mustn’t neglect my guests.’

‘You are right. But remember the first dance is mine.’

Worry-laced panic now skimmed her expression and without thought he took one of her hands in his, gave a quick clasp of reassurance. ‘I promise it will be a dance to remember,’ he said. ‘And, Gabriella?’

‘Yes.’

‘I told you I didn’t lie and I did not. When I told you that Prince Cesar would be dazzled I was telling the truth. You look beautiful and I am truly dazzled.’

Now she looked adorably confused, her nose crinkled and her blush deepened. ‘As if...’ she muttered.

‘I swear it. If there were not so many people watching I would prove it to you.’

‘How?’ Her voice was wary.

‘I’d kiss you.’ He smiled. ‘Or I would ask permission to.’

‘I... I... I...’

‘What would you say?’

Suddenly she returned his smile; an impish dimple appeared in her cheek. ‘Why don’t you try me and see?’ Clearly seeing that she’d wrong-footed him, she allowed her smile to morph into a small triumphant chuckle and he found himself laughing too. ‘Now I really must mingle.’ And with a look over her shoulder she glided away.

Had she really said that? Had she lost the plot along with the royal rule book? Gabi resisted the urge to go and hide behind a Christmas tree, to give herself a chance to regroup and figure out what had just happened. But she couldn’t; the royal ship needed to continue its regal sail. So she had to overcome the fluster and somehow rein in her thoughts, hide the tumult going on in her brain and her body.

Her mystery man was Prince Cesar Asturias and by rights she should be furious at his deception. Especially when he’d had the temerity to tell her she needed to pull herself together. Problem was he’d been right. She had been livid, hurt, angry, confused...and she’d been showing it. Royal rule number one: show no emotion.

And then somehow Cesar had got past her fury, because the apology in his brown eyes had been sincere and so too had been the glint of admiration. Dazzled, that was what he’d said. And that was all it had taken; she’d metaphorically melted into a puddle and flirted...practically promised to kiss him. Cue mental eye roll. Was she that much of a pushover?

Enough; she would banish Prince Cesar from her mind and focus on what she should be doing. Creating the right impression, making all these people believe she had it in her to rule.

And just like that the crushing weight of responsibility, the fear she’d mess this up, returned. The strangeness of wearing a ball gown, the unaccustomed shoes, the splendour of the room itself threatened to overwhelm her. But somehow she summoned the royal smile, the one practised in front of the mirror until her cheeks ached, as Queen Maria approached her, with yet another person by her side to introduce.

An hour later and, ‘You OK?’ She turned to see Luca at her side and she smiled, relieved to see her eldest brother, a man who understood all this.

‘I’m fine, maybe a bit overwhelmed.’

‘You’re doing great.’

‘At looking the part.’

He shook her head. ‘This isn’t about looking the part, or playing a part. You are a princess, Gabi, and you will be Casavalle’s Queen.’

‘That’s what Cesar said.’ Gabi regretted the words as she saw Luca study her expression.

‘Sounds like you got to know each other fast.’

‘Yes.’ Gabi pushed away the urge to confide; the relationship between the Valentis and the Asturiases was complicated enough. She didn’t need Luca to get involved or fire up on his sister’s behalf.

‘Well, he’s right, Gabi. You can do this. You’ve got this.’

‘Thank you. To you and Imogen. For having my back.’

‘That’s what family is for, Gabi. And now you have a family. To support you.’ Luca smiled at her. ‘So let’s show some Valenti-Ross solidarity and build on what you have started with Prince Cesar. I have spoken with his older brothers and his younger sister already. Now let’s go get some more publicity.’

Gabi nodded, understood the importance of this public meeting of the families. Luca had told her that a few months earlier he and Cesar had gone to see Meribel, and they had all made their peace. But that had been a private meeting; this was a public showing of togetherness, an assertion that neither family bore a grudge, that both families were friends.

He looked round. ‘But let’s bring Imogen into the mix too.’ He smiled as his fiancée headed towards him, clearly alerted by some mysterious couple radar, and for a mad moment envy tinged with wistfulness touched Gabi. She was happy for her best friend, for her brother, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she could ever find what they had. Could she ever find love, trust that someone would love her for herself?

‘Let’s do this,’ Luca said. With smiles and murmurs to other guests they made their way through the glittering, designer-clad throngs together and now Gabi felt lighter, revelled in the feel of being part of a family unit. Reminded herself that she did have support and backup and she was thankful for it.

They approached Cesar, who was speaking with Queen Maria, and Gabi gulped. Standing beneath one of the magnificent chandeliers, dressed in a tux that moulded his body, showed off those powerful shoulders and that lean, mean, fighting-machine body, he took her breath away. Again.

As if he sensed it, his dark brown eyes flicked to meet hers and she saw an answering flare there and her insides knotted in sudden desire. And she’d asked him to ask permission to kiss her. Madness—Cesar was not a man to flirt with; she might as well flirt with fire, dance and weave through the flames.

‘Cesar. Good to see you.’ Luca’s deep tone was pitched to carry without shouting and Gabi was aware that around them conversations slowed as the two men shook hands. ‘Much has changed since we last met,’ he continued, with a disarming smile. ‘I wish to assure you and your family that I for one have no complaint at all as to how things have played out. I am a very happy man. I have gained a sister and a fiancée I love. Gabriella you have met, but now allow me to introduce Imogen, my fiancée.’

‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Imogen.’ Now Cesar grasped Imogen’s hand, seemingly oblivious to the buzz around them. ‘May I offer my sincere congratulations and wish you both happiness from myself and my family.’

‘Thank you.’ Imogen’s voice was clear. ‘I appreciate that very much. And please tell Meribel we wish her as much happiness as we have found.’

‘I will do that.’ Cesar’s smile was courteous; he was clearly appreciative of Imogen’s diplomatic answer. ‘And may I say you will make a wonderful diplomat if ever the urge takes you.’

At that moment the band struck up and Cesar’s smile changed, as if he’d upped the brightness meter, and he turned to Gabi. ‘My dance, I believe.’

She would swear she could feel the colour leech from her face; she, Gabriella Ross, was about to lead a royal ball, a ball in her honour. Crazy didn’t cover it.

‘You’ll wow them, Gabi,’ Imogen said. ‘And we’ll be right behind you.’

‘You’d better be.’ Gabi turned to Cesar, oddly reassured—he would know what he was doing so with any luck she wouldn’t make a complete fool of herself.

‘There is no need to be nervous,’ Cesar said softly as he took her hand and they approached the dance floor, where the orchestra had started the introduction, the melody touching and humming the air with motes of beauty.

‘There is every need to be nervous. I told you last night, this is not my forte.’

‘And I told you last night that you can do this. Plus what I didn’t tell you last night is that I have all the moves!’ As she glanced up at him, he did a disco move reminiscent of the seventies, the move so unexpected that she halted and looked up at him in surprise.

His face creased into a grin and he chuckled and she grinned right back. Suddenly the whole idea of the dance seemed less of an ordeal and as the orchestra began to play, she inhaled deeply. ‘OK. I can do this.’

‘We can do this,’ he said and then they were off.

Gabi focused on his left shoulder, murmured the instructions under her breath, tried to focus on the movements, but it was hard when Cesar was this close. So close his aftershave tantalised her, so close she now knew the muscles were real, hard under her fingers; she could see one errant black curl on the nape of his neck and she bit back a small moan. The feel of his arm around her waist was ridiculously intimate as he guided her with a deft gentleness that made her shiver. And all she wanted was to be even closer; somehow it felt as though the rest of the room, the guests, the noise, had all faded away to leave only them...no one else.

Until the music came to its haunting close and she blinked as if emerging from a dream, became aware of all the other couples on the floor around them, suddenly conscious of the attention they had attracted. Oh, hell! She hadn’t done anything stupid, had she? Drooled all over that beautiful tux, ripped open the jacket...

With as much dignity as she could muster, she managed a smile that she hoped looked cool but friendly. ‘Thank you. Your moves helped a lot.’

This pulled a return smile, but his was way more than friendly and his gaze felt like a caress.

‘Let me get you a drink,’ he suggested. ‘Before you take up your duties. There are many people who you must dance with tonight. But if we don’t get a chance to speak properly again, I hope to see you tomorrow evening. We have much to discuss.’

They did? Gabi watched the breadth of his retreating back, turned to smile dutifully at the elderly gentleman, an English lord, who now approached her. But as she spoke with him her mind and her body dwelled on Cesar and anticipation twisted her tummy at the thought of their next meeting.

CHAPTER FOUR

COUNTLESS HOURS LATER and Gabi looked round the now empty reception room with a sigh of relief and eased her high heels off. ‘That feels better.’

‘Perhaps.’ Queen Maria’s voice held no censure, but it did hold a certain gentle implacability. ‘But you need to keep the shoes on, Gabriella. It is possible that a guest will return, or a staff member enter—it would not look good for you to be seen barefoot, unprepared.’

Human... The thought entered Gabi’s head as she slipped her aching feet back into the pointed, strappy, beautiful torture chambers. It would make her look human. Yet it didn’t surprise her that there was a royal protocol that dictated a sight of the royal feet was taboo.

Maria reached out and placed a gentle hand on her arm. ‘Thank you and you did well tonight.’

Gabi wasn’t so sure; she knew she’d made mistakes, had knocked a glass of water over at the table and she was pretty sure she hadn’t used the correct cutlery. All the while she’d been, oh, so aware of Cesar’s presence; half of her had wished he’d been next to her, half of her relieved he wasn’t. Instead she had spoken with his parents, wondered if she’d imagined the assessment in their eyes, the coldness behind the smiles. It was as if they saw the princess but not the person. But that was true of everyone. Except Cesar. Last night, this evening, he had treated her as a human being.

Now she glanced at her stepmother. ‘Cesar asked me to meet him tomorrow evening.’ A glance at the ornate grandfather clock in the corner of the room showed her the time. ‘This evening,’ she amended. ‘I wasn’t sure if I should or not?’

‘Do you want to?’ Maria’s eyes met hers and to her annoyance Gabi felt a blush creep over her face.

‘I’m not sure,’ she settled for, which was no more than the truth. Part of her wanted to go, to satisfy her curiosity as to why he hadn’t revealed his identity the night before. Part of her wanted to go because...

You want him to kiss you... that insidious voice whispered at the back of her mind.

No! No! No!

That was nuts. Because Cesar Asturias was not her type of man and no doubt he had simply been flirting with her out of...habit. The man had certainly dated his share of women, all far more beautiful than Gabi.

Maria surveyed her. ‘There can be no harm in meeting him,’ she said. ‘It would show that the two royal families are friends; would demonstrate the Asturias family’s acceptance of your position.’ The Queen’s expression held its usual serene inscrutability but there was something in her eyes, something elusive that Gabi couldn’t read. ‘But that can be done in public. I would not expect you to meet privately if you dislike him.’

‘I didn’t dislike him...’ Now the flush deepened and clambered over her cheekbones. ‘I... I think I’ll meet him.’ After all, she wasn’t going to kiss him and she did deserve an explanation. And she would get to ride Arya again.

The Queen nodded. ‘Now you should get some rest; it is a busy day tomorrow. You did truly well tonight.’

‘Thank you.’ Gabi knew praise did not always come easy to the other woman, that she expected a certain standard from her own sons and now from Gabi. But she knew too that she owed Maria so much. The Queen had shown no resentment towards Gabi, the woman who had usurped her own children’s line to the throne. Instead she had gone out of her way to help her, guide her and advise her. On impulse Gabi moved over and gave the older woman a hug. ‘And thank you for everything and the way you have welcomed me to Casavalle.’

For a second Maria froze, then she relaxed into the embrace, patted Gabi on the back before stepping back.

‘It has been my pleasure. I see how Luca and Antonio have taken you to their hearts. And I know your father would have been proud of you.’

The words caused a lump in Gabi’s throat: the familiar conflict of emotion. If only she’d found her mom’s letters sooner, then she would have met her father. For a moment she brooded on the second letter, the one she had told no one about. The one where Sophia explained that she had wanted to return to Casavalle. Once Gabriella was born she’d realised she had been wrong to flee, that she loved her husband and wanted to work it out, that she wanted to take back her request for a divorce. But then she had discovered that Vincenzo had started seeing someone else, a suitable woman, someone who ‘would be the wife I could never be’, ‘the wife Vincenzo needs’ and so she had decided it would be better for everyone if she remained in Canada.

Now, as she looked at Maria, Gabriella vowed again never to reveal that letter, knowing it would hurt Maria, impact her memories of a successful marriage, make her play the game of if and but. Gabi knew now too that if the papers got hold of the information they would splash it around with glee, uncaring of who they hurt in the doing.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I so wish I could have met him, but I am so very grateful to you for everything.’

Knowing Maria would be super uncomfortable if she saw the tears that prickled the backs of Gabi’s eyes, she smiled, blew the older woman a kiss and left the reception room. Hoped sheer exhaustion would allow her to fall into a dreamless sleep that did not feature Prince Cesar of Aguilarez.

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