A Princess for a Bride (Rothman Royals Book 2)

by Noelle Adams

This one was also of me—lying naked in bed.

  This one wasn’t full of the aching distance of the others, but it was full of another feeling.

  Desire that was more emotional than physical.

  As if this woman was everything that could ever be wanted.

  I stared blindly, wondering if that woman could possibly be me, if Edward—if anyone—could really want me that much. The depth of feeling was astonishing.

  I was shaking all over as I gazed at it.

  He showed me three more paintings—one of me on the beach, obviously a memory from our honeymoon, and another was me at a table drinking a glass of milk. The third was me on the palace steps. In that one, I felt younger, more innocent, completely self-contained and unreachable. Each painting reflected a slightly different emotion, but all of them full of feeling, desire, yearning, knowledge.

  Love.

  I knew what I was seeing was love. It couldn’t be anything else.

  It was a long time before I could speak. I was shaking helplessly now, my eyes moving between the six paintings. “Do you…” My voice cracked, so I had to start again. “Do you really feel this way… about me?”

  “Yes. I love you. I want to… I’ve wanted to tell you, but I had no idea how. So I thought showing you these might… make it clear.”

  I was almost in tears, hardly able to process that what I wanted so much was actually happening, that Edward felt the same way for me that I felt for him.

  I sniffed and rubbed at my face, trying to pull myself together enough to respond.

  “I love you so much, Victoria. Every time I try to tell you how I feel,” Edward went on, coming over to stand in front of me, taking both of my hands in his, “I freeze up. So I don’t end up saying anything—or if I do speak, it’s something wrong. I’m so sorry about before. I have no right to be jealous. I know you wouldn’t actually cheat on me, and I shouldn’t be so jealous that you’re close to Bryce the way you are. I do understand. He’s been in your life a lot longer than I have. But I need you to know why it bothers me. I want you to be close to me too.”

  I stared at him. This was definitely the longest speech I’d ever heard him say, and the words were kind of tumbling out of him now in a hoarse rush.

  He wasn’t finished.

  “But I know our marriage is different. I need to work on my expectations, since it’s not fair to impose my dreams on to you. I’ve been in love with you for ages—for so long—I painted you on the steps right there two years ago. So many times, I’ve planned out how to tell you, how to show you, but when it came time to do it, I just couldn’t open my mouth. I know you’ve never thought of me that way, and I just couldn’t stand to hear you tell me so. But we’ve just been married for a few months. Things are going well. I’m not going to ruin our relationship by pressuring you to feel more than you do—especially when I’ve been so bad about opening up at all. I’m so sorry about before. Please tell me I haven’t ruined what we have.”

  “You haven’t!” I burst out, swiping away a stray tear. “Nothing is ruined. I am friends with Bryce, and I’ll always be friends with him. But it’s different with him than it is with you. I think of him as a friend. I think of you as a husband.”

  This seemed to surprise him. His brows drew together. “You do?”

  “Of course I do! Don’t you realize that?”

  “Realize what?” It was so clear that he still didn’t know.

  He didn’t know.

  I’d never been brave enough to tell him.

  I finally managed to say, “I didn’t love you at first, but I do now. I do now!”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.” I stared down for a minute at the portrait of me drinking a glass of milk—such a clear and powerful manifestation of his love that it was impossible to mistake it. “I love you too. I had no idea this would happen, and then when it did I was afraid to admit it. My pride is… it gets in the way, and I was so scared of being rejected. But I do. I love you too.”

  Edward stared for a long moment, and then his features broke as he let out a low groan. He pulled me into a tight, desperate hug.

  I hugged him back—just as tightly, just as desperate.

  It was a long time before we pulled apart.

  “I think I need to sit down,” I said with a little laugh. I felt exhausted and sloppy and so incredibly happy.

  “Me too.”

  We left the studio and collapsed together on the sofa in the sitting area outside to the room. Edward pulled me over so I was leaning against him.

  “You really said you love me?” he asked, brushing his lips against my hair.

  I giggled. “Yes. I said it. I love you. And you love me too?”

  “I would have thought it was obvious.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because I’m always such a pitiful wreck around you, gazing at you like a fool, unable to make even the most basic conversation. I’ve been doing it for years now.”

  “Years?” My voice squeaked slightly in my surprise.

  “Well, definitely a couple. I’m not sure exactly when it happened. One day you were just one of the daughters of my father’s best friend. Then the next day you were everything I’d ever wanted.”

  “But you were supposed to marry Amalie.”

  He chuckled. “That was never going to happen. I knew she wasn’t interested, so I never thought it was much of a danger, but I would never have let it happen anyway. I knew I shouldn’t even let our families consider you marrying me—since I knew you’d just be doing it out of duty—but I wanted it so much I couldn’t put a stop to it.”

  “I was the one who asked you.”

  “I know. I thought I was dreaming, although I wasn’t stupid enough to believe you had feelings for me.”

  “I didn’t then,” I admitted. “But I do now.”

  “I’m kind of afraid I’m dreaming this now.”

  “You’re not.” I turned around so my body was pressed against his and I could reach his lips with mine. I kissed him softly. “It just took me a little more time.”

  “I was going to be so good as a husband,” he said, after kissing me back. “I was going to give you all the space you needed and gradually try to charm you—and instead I kept confusing and annoying you. I made such a mess of it from the very beginning.”

  “I had no idea what you were trying to do. I thought you just didn’t care about me.”

  “Charming people isn’t a gift of mine.”

  I couldn’t help but kiss him again. “I think you do just fine.”

  “As long as you think so, I’m happy.”

  “I’m happy too.”

  “Then maybe we can make sure we’re both happy for a really long time.”

  “Sounds like an excellent plan to me.”

  ***

  Two months later, my head was under the covers and my mouth was working hard on a very intimate task.

  Edward appeared to be greatly appreciating it, if his tightly clenched body and his soft grunts were anything to go on.

  He would always be a quiet lover, but he was on the verge of uncontrolled this evening.

  It thrilled me.

  I worked him over as best I could until he finally pulled my head up. The covers pushed down to my shoulders, I stared at him indignantly. “I thought I was doing a good job.”

  “You’re doing an amazing job,” he said hoarsely, taking me by the shoulders and turning me over onto my back. “But I didn’t want it to end with that, and it was about to. This way, we both might able to enjoy the end.”

  “Oh. That’s acceptable, then.”

  He chuckled as he kissed me, and as we kissed, he adjusted himself between my legs and aligned his erection at my entrance. When he entered me, we both groaned softly, and I wrapped my legs around him.

  We kept kissing, our motion show and rhythmic for a while, until the pleasure and urgency intensified, causing me to rock my hips eagerly, chasing the feeling. He made
love to me until I came, and then he let go right afterward, breathing out my name as he always did at the end.

  We relaxed together afterward, tangled up in each other’s arms.

  Things had gone really well for the last few weeks, ever since we’d finally admitted our feelings. Edward was never going to be a talkative man, and it took a lot to push him into the kind of confession he’d poured out that night.

  He hadn’t been quite as vocal since.

  But I could see now his feelings in expressions other than words—in his looks, in his actions, in his touch.

  I never doubted it, and it was a source of deep pride that he was confident in my love too.

  He trusted me. All he’d needed to know was that I loved him.

  After a few minutes, I started to get hot with him on top of me, so I pulled away and cuddled up at his side instead.

  “How was your day?” he asked. He’d gotten back from work late. I’d already been in bed, so he’d joined me there. We hadn’t had time to talk before we got busy with other activities.

  “Good. It was good. I got a tour of the new jet, and then I had lunch with Bryce.”

  “How is he doing?” The question was casual, but it was genuine. He wasn’t hiding resentment or jealousy.

  “He’s doing pretty well. His parents are making efforts. It’s still tense between them, but they’re trying. I think they’re going to be all right.”

  I’d told Edward the truth about Bryce’s orientation after double-checking that Bryce was all right with it. I didn’t like Edward to not know something that was so important to me.

  “Good,” Edward murmured. “It’s got to be hard, but I think it’s better out in the open.”

  “I agree.”

  “Speaking of…”

  I looked up at Edward, waiting for him to continue, since he clearly was leading into something.

  His mouth twisted slightly and he didn’t finish his thought.

  “What is it?” I asked, lifting my head.

  He took a breath.

  “Edward? Did you have something you wanted to get out in the open? What is it?” I kept my questions mild, gentle. I didn’t want to be pushy, but he clearly wanted to say something he wasn’t comfortable saying. It sometimes helped if I asked him questions so it was easier for him to voice the words.

  “I was thinking about you being on birth control.”

  I blinked. “Oh.”

  “I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for, but I’d love to have a child with you. We can wait until you’re ready, but I wanted to let you know that I’m ready now, whenever, any time.” The words were choppy, forced out.

  I stared at him, affection and surprise and joy all vying for a place in my heart.

  “No pressure,” he added. “I’m just trying to do better about saying what I think.”

  Finally, the feelings caught up to me and I laughed and sobbed at the same time as I wrapped my arms around him. “Thank you for saying it!”

  He laughed too and held me in his arms. “You’re welcome. I’ve got to tell you it took quite an overload of nerve to get it said.”

  Still giggling, I kissed his chest and said, “As far as I’m concerned, we can stop the birth control right away. I want to have a baby with you too.”

  “Oh. Good. Excellent.”

  His words were spoken with his typical understated blandness.

  I would have thought it wasn’t a big deal but I could see the look in his eyes—like I’d given him the world’s greatest gift.

  Maybe I had, but it felt like a gift to me too.

  “Perhaps we should get started—working on it, I mean,” I said. “We’ve got an heir to produce, after all, to continue our family lines.”

  He rolled over on top of me. “I believe you’ll find that no one works as hard as me.”

  So that was me—Victoria Rothman Channing, daughter of a king and the wife of a very introverted, good-hearted, passionate man.

  My life wasn’t a fairy tale or even a romantic story from my family’s history, but it was better than I’d ever imagined.

  Epilogue

  Four months after that evening, I put my hand on my belly as I stared around at the small parlor in Villemont’s palace.

  The room wasn’t large, but it was lovely and pleasant with a big stone fireplace, thick mahogany beams, and historic tapestries on the walls. At the moment, it was filled with people—my parents, Lisette, Edward’s father, Amalie and her boyfriend, Jack. Even Henry was in town.

  Amalie and Jack had come to visit for Christmas, and they were leaving town again the following day.

  I would miss my sister and her funny, laidback boyfriend when they went back to the States, although Edward and I were already planning a trip to see them in the spring.

  At the moment, Edward was talking to Lisette, and Henry was talking to Amalie and Jack. I’d been getting more and more tired in the evenings, so I’d tried to fade into the background so I wouldn’t have to exert too much energy in socializing.

  I sipped my glass of milk and turned my head when one of the side doors opened. A very handsome, clean-cut young man came in with a piece of paper in his hand.

  I recognized him immediately. Alexander Georgeson. He was a year younger than me. Because his father worked for our father, my sisters and I had grown up with him. He’d mostly been friends with Lisette, though.

  I watched as he glanced toward Lisette discreetly as he walked over to pass the piece of paper to my father. Some sort of message. Alex was in graduate school, but he still worked with his father handling the logistics of the palace and the household.

  My father glanced at the note and then leaned over to murmur something to Alex in response. Alex nodded and began to leave the room without speaking.

  Because I was watching, I saw him give Lisette a surreptitious wink as he walked away. Lisette smiled and blushed, looking away with an expression that caused me to stiffen.

  Alex was a fine man—smart and kind-hearted and with a good sense of humor. But he was the son of an employee.

  If Lisette was looking in that direction, then she’d find nothing but obstacles in her way.

  My stomach churned with concern. My mother had eventually relented to Amalie choosing an American with no fortune or pedigree for her man, but at least Jack owned his own business. He didn’t actually work for us.

  My mother would never accept Alex as a boyfriend of one of her daughters. Never.

  Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I’d misread my sister’s expression. She and Alex had been friends all their lives. I’d always assumed their relationship was like mine and Bryce’s.

  Maybe that was all it was.

  I could only pity Lisette if she was thinking of anything else.

  “What’s the matter?” Edward murmured. He’d approached without my realizing it and now wrapped an arm around me. “Aren’t you feeling well?”

  “Just tired. I’m fine. I was just…” I cleared my throat when I noticed my mother looking over at us. “I’ll tell you later.”

  “I’ll be asking.”

  I knew he would. Before I’d met and fallen for him, I’d never known what it was like to be loved with such single-minded devotion—all of his quiet focus and big heart poured into loving me.

  It was overwhelming. Life-changing. There was nothing like it in the world.

  I smiled up at him fondly, and he leaned down to give me a little kiss.

  “You ready?” he asked in a different tone.

  I nodded and straightened up.

  Edward cleared his throat to get the attention of the room. “Victoria and I have some news,” he began. He knew everyone here well enough that he wasn’t too awkward about speaking in front of them.

  “I knew it!” Amalie burst out, clapping her hands excitedly.

  “It certainly took long enough,” my mother said, the delighted expression on her face belying her wry words.

  “We haven’t said what it is y
et,” I began, trying to smother my laugh.

  “Silly. We all know what it is,” Lisette said, coming over to give me a hug.

  “Our first grandchild,” my father said, clapping Edward on the back.

  I met Edward’s eyes over my sister’s shoulder, and we shared an intimate smile, one filled with the joy we’d been feeling for the last three months, ever since we’d discovered I was pregnant.

  He shook his head in warm, amused irony.

  Some things just didn’t need to be said.

  ***

  The next story in the Rothman Royals series is A Princess in Waiting, about Lisette and Alex. It will be coming out in late March, and you can read an excerpt from it on the following pages. If you haven’t yet read it, the first book in the Rothman Royals series (about Amalie and Jack) is A Princess Next Door.

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  Excerpt from A Princess in Waiting

  Old romantic stories would have you believe a lie—that if there is a princess, then there must be a prince.

  I’m here to testify that those old stories aren’t even close to the truth.

  I’ve been a princess for the twenty-one years of my life—the youngest daughter of the King of Villemont, a little-known microstate in the Alps—but I’ve never been good princess-material. I was quiet and shy and terrified of big crowds, and I had always preferred a book to a tiara. I’d never had a boyfriend, which was an embarrassing fact to admit. No man had ever been interested in me at all, despite my royal pedigree.

  I am Lisette Rothman, and my Prince Charming was nowhere to be found.

  At the moment, I was lying on a blanket in the grass—in the far corner of the palace grounds. It was the only place, other than my bedroom, where I could genuinely feel alone.

  Being alone was quite important to me. As a princess, I lived a very public life, and all the social functions were incredibly draining to someone with my introverted personality. If I didn’t have alone time, I felt like a wet paper napkin that had been stretched too far, causing little tears that soon threatened complete disintegration.