Her seamstress delivered the gorgeous couture gown, then assisted her into the dress. Traditional gifts of something borrowed, something blue, something old, something new were given to her. A tiny heart charm from her sister Olivia was added to her bouquet of white roses, a vintage sapphire ring passed down from firstborn daughter to the next through four generations, a new pair of earrings with matching stones joined the ring.
“To match your eyes,” her mother said after giving them to her. “Don’t forget that we love you, my darling girl. Always.”
Tears stung and pricked hot. No more tears. Not today. Today she’d start a new life with a man who valued her enough to give her a voice. And he inspired all kinds of physical reactions inside her that she longed to explore.
“I won’t.” Though her mother hadn’t been an affectionate one who showered Ilsa with hugs and kisses and had never wavered from making sure Ilsa understood her duty to country before herself, she had no doubt her mother cared for her deeply, albeit conditionally.
But then what parent didn’t hold an invisible string on their children? Tugging them into going in the direction they wished them to go, either consciously or not?
Even Santiago, in the aftermath of his brother’s sudden loss, had responded to that tug of guilt.
“Your Highness, the limousine is ready,” her personal attaché said when she entered the room.
A new set of nerves twitched. “Are the crowds as big as they projected?” Ilsa asked. She’d never been one for the limelight, but she’d learned to deal with the presence of the media, the crush of people whenever she’d gone out with her family. And had been prepared to do the same today for the wedding, but that was before Javier’s death had changed everything.
“Yes, but we’ve beefed up security.” Her attaché turned to the rest of the bridal party. “Say nothing if asked. No comment and focus on the wedding. Our publicity department is handling this situation.”
Gossip and rumors swirled in the tabloids, on the Internet, and social media had blown up with conspiracy theories and hypotheses about what had happened.
“Agreed,” her mother said. “We must present a united front with the Valdorian monarchy during this tumultuous time.”
Ilsa stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her insides trembled, and every muscle in her body tensed, but the woman she looked at didn’t reveal her own inner turmoil. “I’m ready,” she said. Today marked the end of a lifetime of preparing for the inevitable. And it marked the beginning of a new chapter. One she’d never anticipated… a wild card and a challenge with no road map.
She’d walk into this marriage unable to see where this choice would lead. But this time she’d know better than to expect love to follow. Nor would she allow another de la Fuente man to break her heart.
Chapter 3
Santiago stood at the front of the chapel. Traditional organ music played the prelude and at the other end of the red-carpeted aisle the church’s ornate carved doors opened, revealing the bridal party.
Slowly, a pair of children—distant relatives—made their way toward him. One with a basket of rose petals which she sprinkled in front of her and the other, a sturdy little boy, carrying a pillow with the wedding bands nestled inside.
His brother’s choice. Not Santiago’s. But he’d rectify that and give her something unique… something special from him to Ilsa. He wanted her to see him as a man in his own right.
Her sisters and their groomsmen came next, gliding down the length the aisle and taking their positions on either side of the altar.
His heart pumped against his sternum. Anticipation coursed through his veins as the organist played the first strains of the wedding processional music. Everyone stood and his pulse accelerated, sending prickles of adrenaline into his fingertips. Today he had the chance to gain everything he’d wanted for his country and for himself.
And then his bride stepped into the sanctuary with her father beside her.
His heart caught in his throat. She was ethereal, beautiful beyond words, and with every step she took toward him, his pulse pumped faster… faster still… the gown revealed her exquisite slender shoulders and her skin glistened as if dusted by glitter. He’d caught hints of her lovely figure beneath the prim, conservative attire she usually chose to wear and her wedding dress accentuated every sensual curve from the swell of her full breasts to the trim waist which was cinched by a satin bow.
Chiffon floated around her and she walked as if on a cloud. Floating closer and closer until she stood in front of him. He locked eyes with hers and said, “You’re beautiful.”
Her eyes widened, and she flushed slightly. “I’m glad you approve,” she said before turning to face the minister.
She’d reacted to him whether she wanted to admit it or not. Heat filled his chest and the room, and everyone in it, became hazy. Santiago barely heard the minister’s welcome and opening prayer.
“Who gives this bride to this groom in marriage?” the minister asked.
“I do,” her father said, taking Ilsa’s right hand and placing it in Santiago’s left one, then he returned to his place and sat with her mother.
Her palm felt right in his, and when their fingers intertwined, a sizzling sensation traveled through his skin.
They went through the vows and her gorgeous blue eyes never left his. No doubt wavered in their depths until they reached the final vow.
“Santiago Ramirez de la Fuente as you place this ring on Ilsa’s finger, please repeat after me,” the minister said.
He echoed the phrases, slipping the platinum band lightly onto her ring finger. “This ring is a symbol of my…,” Santiago hesitated, his tongue tripping over the words, knowing they had a long way to go before they’d become true. He cleared his throat. “Of my eternal love, my everlasting friendship. And the promise of all my tomorrows.”
“Ilsa Marike van Winnsen,” the minister intoned. “As you place the ring on Santiago’s finger, please repeat after me.”
She never wavered through her vows, didn’t pause when she reached the promise to give him her eternal love. The words rang loud, clear, effortlessly as she slipped his band onto his ring finger. “And the promise of all my tomorrows.” Expectation. Something more flashed in her gaze before she schooled her features into an unreadable mask.
The minister raised his arms to the crowd. “Because you two came here today intending to marry, because you joined hands and made solemn vows and exchanged rings to remind you of those vows, and you are now joined in mutual love and respect, according to the powers vested in me and the highest power of the land and the sea; I pronounce that your wedding vows are sealed and you may henceforth be known to all as husband and wife.” He looked at Santiago. “You may now kiss your bride.”
His. She was his. He placed one hand behind Ilsa’s back and drew her closer, intending only to brush her lips with his to seal their deal. But when his mouth touched her soft, welcoming one, heat flashed and sparked between them.
He deepened his kiss, exploring the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue, tasting her for the first time. And loving her unique flavor—an intoxicating mix of vanilla and spice. The vanilla he’d anticipated. But the spice?
The spice was a welcome surprise.
She coiled her arms around his neck, moving closer and twining her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. He feasted on her luscious mouth, oblivious to their surroundings, wanting… Dios… wanting everything she had to offer him… wanting to offer everything he had in return…
Not just as her King, her partner… but as a man… a lover…
Applause and cheers rang in his ears, joined the thundering pulse beating in them. Slowly, reluctantly, he broke their connection and then lowered his forehead to hers. “Ilsa. You’re incredible,” he said softly while caressing her cheek.
“And you’re an incredible kisser.” She stepped back. “No one in the world can doubt us now. Great job.”
&nb
sp; Great job? A whisper of coolness skimmed along his skin and into his blood. Would Valdoria and Menkara always be the centerpiece of their union? Damn. At least they were physically compatible. A place to start… he’d win her over in bed. “No one will doubt how much we want each other after tonight,” he said, then guided her away from the altar toward the aisle.
They made their way back toward the open doors through the throng of well-wishers. Cameras flashed, and guests held cell phones high to capture every moment. Ahead, the arched doorway opened to a crowd cheering outside the royal chapel. The limo Ilsa had arrived in stood waiting in the circular driveway. Liveried servants lined either side of the carpet from the exit all the way to their ride.
And when they stepped into the sunlit day, a roar rose into the air. Overhead, the military’s air force flew their elite squadron of jets, officially saluting his and Ilsa’s marriage.
A servant held the limo’s door and Santiago assisted her into the Bentley’s luxurious interior, then he slid in to sit opposite her. The door closed after him, and then they began to move slowly away from the church and onto the cobblestone street where his people, hers now too, waved flags, screamed their names, or sang Valdoria’s anthem.
“Thank goodness that’s over.” Ilsa adjusted her gown’s skirt around her. “Now we can focus on the real work of modernizing Valdoria.”
Another chink in Ilsa’s armor. She liked being part of a project. Yes. He could definitely see possibilities for building a solid relationship with her in the boardroom too. In more ways than one.
He lifted the champagne from the bottle cooler next to his seat, popped the cork, then filled the crystal flutes. “Sí.” He gave her a glass. “I’ll get you up to speed with the negotiations I’ve been conducting on Monday. For now, let’s enjoy what little time we have for our honeymoon.”
They clinked their flutes and sipped in tandem, then he glanced through the window and gave the cursory royal wave, smiling. For the show… for the sake of their countries.
Ilsa’s dress rustled, and he turned his attention away from the view outside, looked into her expressive, gleaming blue eyes.
“Santiago, the reasons for our wedding may have been unorthodox, but I expect our marriage to be traditional in every way that matters.” She sipped some champagne before continuing. “But modern in how we approach the future. The thing is, I’m a bit behind the times when it comes to modern.”
“I’d never betray you. Not after everything you’ve sacrificed. I respect you too much.” And he cared for her too much to hurt her. Only… she could destroy him if she never returned his love. He’d wait to reveal the depth of his feelings. “What do you mean by a bit behind the times? You’re modern to me.” Modern, stylish, sexy as sin and all his. Soon… he couldn’t wait for tonight.
She raised her chin and yet she worried her lower lip and damned if he didn’t want to help her nibble the succulent flesh. “Modern, except for one way,” she said.
The limo bounced over a rut, champagne spilled out and he quickly moved to her side. “Here.” He took her glass and set it down on the veneered console beside her, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Damn. He liked the way her body molded to his, the soft slide of her bare skin against him shot a jolt of electricity through him. His blood rushed south and into his cock, making his pants uncomfortably tight. He wanted her, but she still loved his brother… no. She was his now, legally. And tonight he’d make her his in every other way.
“Tell me,” he asked, still holding her. “I’ll give you whatever you want.”
* * *
Ilsa swallowed and gathered her thoughts, trying to find a way to tell her husband about her current state of virtue. She figured she had to be one of the last virgins over the age of twenty-five, but here she was. Untried.
And, until Santiago’s touches, his kiss today when they’d been pronounced husband and wife, she’d been sure she’d been holding off for all the right reasons. Instead… well, she couldn’t hold Santiago off, nor did she want to either.
“I want you to teach me how to be a good lover,” she said.
He blinked several times, drew his head back and raised his eyebrows. “That’s crazy,” he said. “You’ve been pledged to Javier your entire life. You had plenty of opportunities during the last few years to do something.”
She looked away and waved to the crowd outside, talking to the window rather than directly to Santiago. “Javier and I were thrown together for an arranged marriage,” Ilsa said. “You know how much he valued tradition. That meant sticking to the rules about waiting to make love until after we got married.” She’d thought the idea romantic—frustrating, but sweet and loving. Surprise. He simply didn’t want her other than as a peace treaty token bride.
“Yes, but, there are a lot of other ways to satisfy each other without going all the way,” he said.
His voice shook a little, and she swallowed down a bitter laugh. Her husband sounded uncertain. But then, she doubted he’d ever been with a virgin before. “Sure. If both parties are interested in exploring them,” Ilsa said. “But the truth is I wanted to be with Javier with all my heart. He wanted to wait until we got married. I thought he wanted my first time to be special, but I was wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything at all?” he asked as the limo turned off the cobblestone street and made its way to the Valdorian Castle.
“Well, we kissed a lot,” she said. “But Javier never pushed for more. Not that I didn’t want him to do something besides that, but he was always a gentleman…,” She hesitated, not wanting to betray Javier’s memory. Still, he’d broken her heart when he’d denied any attraction to her. “Now I know why.”
“And with me?”
“Definitely sparks,” she said, reluctantly admitting her attraction. “But other than kissing, I’ve done nothing more. I’d like to explore my sexuality more before we go all the way. Surely, you understand. It’s not like we’ve been planning our wedding for our entire lives.”
He inhaled a deep breath, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “True. We haven’t,” Santiago said hoarsely. “How long, exactly, do you want to hold off consummating this marriage?”
“Just until I get a chance to practice what I’ve been reading about in books.” Stuff she’d wanted to do with Javier, but she’d been a fool of epic proportions in that regard. Now she’d make sure she got what she wanted inside the bedroom and more.
They drew closer to the castle’s grand entrance. “A week? Two?” Santiago asked.
“Oh, a week should be good,” she said, liking the eagerness in his voice. She’d never heard that before. “I’m sure I’ll be a quick learner. It’s not like I don’t know how to take care of myself.”
He laughed. “Fabulous. Good to know.” He held her gaze, his eyes gleaming hot. “We should start the lessons immediately.”
“Excellent,” she said as the limo came to a stop. “The sooner, the better.” After all, she deserved control over how things evolved in the bedroom.
A servant opened the door to let them out. And then they were back on display.
She coasted through the rest of her day. First, the endless reception which still had clouds hanging over it. Queen Mother Constanza went through the motions, but she didn’t want to be there… and Ilsa couldn’t blame her. After Santiago’s mother retired to her wing, the rest of the party quickly dissipated.
The day came to a close, and they returned to their wing of rooms. “Get rid of your maid as soon as possible,” he said. “I can’t wait to be alone with you.”
Around them, servants and security personnel watched them. “Me too. But will we ever be truly alone?” she said, anticipating the rest of the night, her nipples taut and an exquisite ache tugging low, sending delicious tingles through her body.
He leaned in. “Our beds only have room for two.”
His warm breath in her ear made her nipples grow tighter, and the promise in his words made her pant
ies wet. “Santiago,” she whispered. “There’s a door connecting our rooms…”
He kissed the tender flesh behind her ear and then licked it. “Unlock your side after you get rid of your servant,” he said quietly. “I can’t wait to show you everything I know.”
“Maybe I might have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
“You’re a smart woman so I don’t doubt it,” he said, then left her to walk to his rooms.
After her maid took Ilsa’s gown, she dismissed her, then did as Santiago asked, unlocking the door between their suites. She rifled through her trousseau and paused when she reached the gorgeous nightgown she’d planned to wear for… no… she wouldn’t start her marriage with something old. She’d start it with something new.
She shoved the gown aside, withdrew a sexy red silk nightgown and slipped it on. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she nodded at her reflection. She’d definitely get a reaction from Santiago in this number. From here on out, she’d take another thing under her control: her sex life.
Sitting in front of her vanity and running a brush through her hair, she heard the door adjoining her rooms to Santiago’s open and the sound of his soft footfalls on the hardwood floor until he stood behind her chair. “Need any help?” he asked.
Tingles traveled through her body, spread into her breasts and her nipples pebbled. Ilsa nodded, unable to take her eyes off his incredible body. “Yes. Please.” She gave him her brush, and he stroked it through her hair slowly, sensually.
He’d chosen satin drawstring pajama bottoms and hadn’t bothered to button the top. Her hands ached with the need to explore every amazing inch of his skin. He was, in a word, glorious. And he was all hers.
His crisp, clean masculine scent did crazy things to her libido. Heat flashed low, flushed over her skin and warmed her cheeks. Tendrils of need unfurled, tickled her breasts and feathered between her thighs.
Wrong Prince, Right Lover Page 3