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Forbidden Bastard: Opposites Attract Matchmaker Romance (Princes of Avce Book 10)

Page 11

by Victoria Pinder


  Queen Anna Camilla, pretty with light brown hair and blue eyes, was beside him, as always. Charles didn’t shake his father's hand, but kept Sandi close as he bowed. Sandi curtsied beside him while he said, “Your Highness.”

  The king reached out and patted his arm as Charles straightened, then offered his hand in greeting again. “Charles, it’s good to see you.”

  This time, Charles clasped the man’s hand and noticed they had similar fingers.

  He pulled back fast and said, “This is Sandi Smith.”

  His father then extended his hand to her. “Lovely to meet you, as well.”

  She trembled as she shook hands with the king, and Charles touched her lower back so she wouldn't topple over.

  She then greeted the queen who smiled and also shook both their hands.

  The next guest was in line to greet the leaders of Avce so he stepped back. However the king called out, “Charles?”

  Being accepted wasn’t ever going to matter. He stopped, but raised his brow. “Yes? I promised Sandi a dance.”

  His birth father’s voice cracked as he said, “I’m hoping in time you’ll view the palace and all of us as family you can depend on.”

  Heat rose up his neck. Charles Esposito didn’t deserve… he shook his head. Clara could retire in style she’d earned for raising him, not that they’d get that. “Doub…” Sandi tugged on his sleeve. A zap of electricity rushed through him but he swallowed and said instead, “I’ll try to be open.”

  Then they followed protocol, bowed again, and he led her toward the dance floor, as promised. She squeezed his arm as they walked. “Charles, he’s trying.”

  She slowed down as he said, “I stopped myself from…” trusting too much when he’d just get hurt, but he said instead, “letting anyone get to me, because I want you to be happy.”

  “You might not see how blessed you are, but that will come with time.” His heart pounded like a hammer banging on a nail to hang up some art work fast. Sandi scanned the dance floor. “This ballroom is so… sparkly.”

  His eyes were drawn to a pastoral painting. It was clearly Chelsea’s work. His mother’s family was close to his father’s family. So tossing him out just meant it was personal. His shoulders tensed. “I guess the theme was pastoral and Avcean country life, but yes, they added some sparkle too.”

  She intertwined their fingers, until he wrapped his arms around her like she was the only thing in his life that could save him as she said, “I meant the candlelight. I’ve never danced beneath candles. It’s always been electric lights.”

  He guided her into a dance. “Does it matter?”

  She met his gaze and said, “The room has a glow. It’s pretty, but we can go whenever you want to.”

  The light in her green eyes held his attention. “Not half as pretty as you though.”

  She laughed and hugged him tight. “See, that’s sweet.”

  He spun around the floor--she was right. There was an unusual glow to the room with the crystals reflecting the burning wicks.

  The best person in the world was in his arms and she was willing to bolt whenever he was. Sandi was his Aphrodite. And he’d be stupid to lose her, ever.

  For as long as she wanted him, he’d be hers.

  As the music ended and the dance finished, he noticed people were staring at him.

  His face grew warmer as he walked with Sandi off the dance floor, but then a stranger pointed behind him.

  He turned around and straightened as he noticed an older woman in a blue gown headed toward him. Ice cold shivers caused his heart beat to slow when he met her gaze. “My birth mother is here.”

  Her heart grew like she might hold him closer, as Sandi hooked her hand in his and asked, “Don’t give her a thought. Think of Clara as she matters. Why don’t you invite Clara to live with you?”

  Clara. She’d once been from Avce though living in Paris with her was the closest thing he'd ever had to a home. Accepting his birth place was to ensure she could retire here. The frozen sensation in his chest as the oncoming onslaught embodied in his birth mother lessened as he said, “The plan is for me to secure the house and she will move to the dower estate that’s being prepared.”

  She brushed his suit jacket and tie like he had lint or a speck somewhere. “Then you have to let everyone here know about her.”

  Silence grew around them. His neck was so tight he couldn’t even move--he held Sandi’s gaze. From the corner of his eye, he saw the swash of blue fabric and said, “Yes, but not now.” His mind raced. “Francesca's coming over.”

  Sandi straightened as if she was a soldier in the trenches with him.

  The older woman in the blue dress stopped before him. “Charles.” So she knew his name? He wasn’t sure what to say so he stayed silent. His birth mother said, “It seems my girls went to your house today.”

  Ah. He should have expected she'd find out. Avce was a small country. Francesca folded her hands as if ready to scold him. Sandi said in a sweet tone, “Cassidy and Chelsea helped me figure out what to wear.”

  Francesca’s gaze went toward Sandi and her ensemble. “Chelsea has an excellent eye for clothes. You look impeccable.” She then turned toward him and Francesca’s brown eyes seemed… calculating, as she said, “Charles, I came over to ask you to stay far away from them.”

  Yes. This was the woman who'd tossed him out as a baby. He’d never met her, but she was the opposite of maternal Clara. “I’ve never sought either of them.”

  Her face was devoid of… anything that might evoke feelings. She said, “If they come to you again, please just walk away.”

  Francesca had zero rights to ask anything from him. Chelsea and Cassidy could move into the estate if they liked. He'd give them their own rooms. They were nothing like… this, but his pulse spiked as he said, “Like you did to me as a baby.”

  She shrugged. “The nuns were good to my mother.”

  The women who'd left him to die? The memory of being abandoned as they'd hopped on a train without him replayed in his mind.

  People were screaming, gun shots had been fired, and he'd been terrified. Crying.

  Until Clara.

  As he confronted Francesca, an old, frigid rage that wanted to burn down the small villa and punish the nuns now that he was strong and sure of himself threatened to surface. “They weren’t to me.”

  She rolled her eyes and said, “That’s not my concern. My girls are.”

  Yet his half-sister had come to him. Clearly without consulting Francesca. Not that it mattered. He squared his shoulders. “Who I speak to also isn’t your concern.”

  Her mouth opened to argue but then she bowed her head.

  Sandi curtsied. He turned and saw Queen Anna Camilla in her blue and gold gown with the tiara on her head stop next to him. “Charles, Francesca does not speak for the Aussas. Please don’t leave the party.”

  Yet the air was stuffy.

  He couldn’t breathe.

  He swallowed and bowed, forgetting all protocol as he stepped away. “Highness, I just need a moment.”

  “Of course.” The queen patted him on the back. “His Highness, your father, will want to see you before you leave.”

  Another person who might stir up pain.

  His skin pricked like he bled all over the floor which wasn’t good. No one needed to see him weak.

  Sandi excused them both, then walked him out the closest glass doors. He followed blindly. As they stepped on white marble, he realized they were on the patio. He still saw red. Sandi massaged his back and said, “I’m sorry for that. Francesca is horrible.”

  Sandi had stood by him. He’d push up the wedding. If he lost Sandi too, he’d be that little boy again. And he’d vowed to never be that, though he ignored the tension in his body and focused on her beauty. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  She pressed her forehead to his like they were a real couple. “Neither did you. Don’t let her get under your skin, okay?”

  Hi
s arms wrapped around Sandi. Yes. She was his and he’d never let her go, ever again. Charles nodded. “All I have is you here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She smiled at him.

  “Then let’s get out of here. I’ll talk to the king later.”

  “I told you I’m ready to go whenever you are.”

  Sandi was perfection in a red dress. She wasn't close enough. He tugged her to him and kissed her. She was his life raft and he’d never let her go.

  Her kiss was the closest thing to heaven he’d ever know.

  Chapter 13

  Sandi felt the warm sun on her skin and bright light surrounding her.

  She’d come home when the sun had started to rise.

  And she thought Charles had wanted to sleep, but the bed beside her was cold.

  So was his pillow. She yawned and blinked though her body was still all achy.

  If she never wore heels again, it would be fine with her.

  She stretched as she sat up all the way--outside on the balcony, she saw a shadow move. "Charles?"

  Charles rushed into the bedroom and sat beside her in the bed as he smiled, all happy and excited. “Sandi, good, you’re awake.”

  How was he so energetic? Her body was heavy with exhaustion from being up so late. She yawned and didn’t want to take the comforter off as she said, “My feet are still sore from last night. I’m not used to heels, to be honest.”

  He reached for her hands and his body sent little goosebumps through her from his simple touch. “You have an appointment.”

  Her mind couldn’t focus. Half the room still seemed dark except the flashes of light from outside that peered into the room like reflections from diamonds though she was sure it was just because she wanted to sleep more. She smoothed the scruff of his jaw that tickled her skin. “I do?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Queen Anna Camilla is having a private showing with over two thousand wedding dresses for you to choose from…in an hour.”

  Two thousand? Seriously? Whoa. That sounded like a weeklong event. She rubbed her eyes and asked, “Wait. What?”

  He gave her that sexy smile with those dimples that tempted her to just agree. “She offered. I accepted, for you. You get to choose whatever dress you want as her gift.”

  Today? Right now? She tugged her legs out of the comforter but she couldn’t quite get them to the floor. Her body was like lead still as she said, “I’ll need coffee if I have to make a decision like that today.”

  He took out his phone and texted the chef about a carafe. Then he put it back on the charger next to their bed and stood like he wanted her to join him. “And when you get back, we’ll meet with the caterers to finalize tonight’s selection.”

  What had she missed? Her head might still be rocky from the champagne and wine, though she'd stuck to the whites as reds always gave her a massive headache. “Tonight?”

  “Our wedding,” he said while he led her out to the balcony.

  Her mind was blank but she saw coffee and pastries laid out for her under the shaded table.

  Without computing what he'd said, she stumbled toward the coffee and poured herself a cup.

  Charles held a chair for her and she sank into it, sipping her dark brew.

  At least it was warm, earthy and delicious. He slipped into the seat beside her and for a few minutes neither said anything.

  She let the warm liquid wake her mind. If she did get married, she wanted family and friends and love.

  Mostly love.

  Were she and Charles rushing things because she'd heard they were matched by a professional, and she wanted to believe in a love that was true? Cassidy had asked pointedly if they were in love and she’d overstated the answer.

  What if they weren’t? What if she’d lied?

  Yes, she cared about Charles, and honestly she cared more than she wanted to admit. Maybe she was in love. Her stomach was in knots when she wasn’t near him.

  Charles was everything she ever wanted. Everything she needed.

  Except the part of her mind that worried she was marrying him so that she no longer had to deal with how her decisions had destroyed her parents' business. Marriage wasn’t an escape option to forget all the damage she’d caused through the years. “You want to get married today?”

  He put his coffee down and refilled both cups. “Yes, your parents will arrive this afternoon. I can ensure your mother goes to the castle to help you choose your gown if you want her there.”

  Had he slept at all? The blue waters on the sea were idyllic. Her mother would be proud of her, if she stayed and married like she’d been the debutante they’d wanted her to be. How did he have this energy? She reached for his hand and tried to understand as she said, “I’d want her opinion. Yeah. But why tonight?”

  “I need you.” He kissed the tips of her fingers.

  But this was all because he'd wanted a place to have his adopted mother live and maybe now to mend relations with his birth father. She kept the second thought to herself and scooped up her coffee, holding it to her cheek for the warmth to hopefully wake her brain. “To move Clara here?”

  He glanced down his nose and whispered, “Because I love you.”

  At the end his voice had a slight crack.

  She put the cup down with a clatter.

  Adrenaline rushed into her veins. He loved her? She couldn’t move.

  Since she was a young girl, she’d dreamed of someone like him coming into her life.

  Sandi pressed her hand to her heart as her vision went dark. Part of her just didn’t believe him. Maybe she wasn’t in love with him at all, but just wanted his safety net. Her pulse raced as she wasn’t sure. “You love me? Since when?”

  He scooted closer and their knees brushed. “I realized it last night. You were perfect and supported me against Francesca. You made last night tolerable.”

  Last night when his birth mother had tried to make him feel unwelcome? The royal family had circled around and insisted they stay.

  All she’d done was stand next to him and offered to go with him for fresh air, but that wasn’t enough to instill love. It made her human, that was all. “I didn’t do anything.”

  He put a beignet on her plate. “Except for Clara, you are more like family than I’ve ever had. Now it’s time to make it official.”

  But tonight? Maybe she'd missed that conversation last night as the end of the ball was hazy.

  Had the champagne loosened her tongue? Nothing came to mind, but she glanced at her plate and said, “I…”

  The rest of her sentence didn’t come.

  Charles sat straighter and asked, “Don’t you want to marry me, Sandi?”

  She gripped his forearm. “I do. I don’t think we should rush in a day. You have a few weeks left, right?”

  “Till my birthday, yes.” He brushed his fingers against her wrist which made her skin feel alive. “But I’d rather start my life in Avce with all the i’s dotted and t’s crossed. And that means you, here, beside me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She met his worried gaze.

  If she loved him, she was making another mistake. But if she didn’t then she was hurting them both.

  And she never ever made the right decisions, especially in a rush.

  Every cell in her body craved him. How could she not? She took a deep breath and ignored how her stomach knotted. She shouldn’t make him worry. “Okay, let's get married tonight.”

  He kissed her wrist and reached for his coffee like all was well. “I’m thinking the patio overlooking the ocean is a good place to make this all official.”

  A beautiful spot. Yes. However the vision of herself in her wedding dress hadn’t registered in her mind and she couldn’t imagine the moment she said ‘I do.’ She should be able to. She should imagine every detail, right? Sandi slumped back. “I’m going to need a few cups of coffee.”

  He winked at her and ate his beignet. “I’ll have the chef ensure you go to the castle with a full carafe.”r />
  His beignet looked good. She straightened and picked hers up. If only her hands wouldn't tremble. If she made a bad choice this would be for life. Was she in love? How did she know? For now, the coffee was still warm and she licked her lips. “Charles, why don’t we postpone this until next week?”

  She bit into the small piece of powder-sugared heaven and her stomach untwisted slightly. She took another bite, then another until she finished. Sandi looked up into Charles’s intense gaze. He said, “You keep changing your mind. Don’t want to marry me?”

  Of course she did. If her nerves meant she was in love, but what if it wasn’t? She hadn't made a good choice, in years. She wasn’t being impetuous and seemed to be the one in the relationship with a clear mind. Heaven help them both. She picked up her coffee cup again and said, “I just want to make a few choices, like a dress, and take my time, because rushing is bad for me. How about tomorrow? That will at least let me focus on just the dress and my mom.”

  He stared at her like they were playing poker--she was never good at that game. He said, “I stand by my decisions. If you trust me, we’ll be fine.”

  Trust. Her heart beat echoed in her chest. She focused on the sound and lifted her chin. Rushing was a bad idea so she said flatly, “And waiting one night never hurt anything that was meant to be.”

  He blinked and slumped his shoulders. “So you want to get married tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” She agreed fast but electricity coursed through her. She wanted to marry Charles. Part of her thought it was the right choice, but in the back of her mind, she had the urge to run away. “Probably. But, do you want to marry me because of Francesca?”

  His lips thinned as his cheeks became taut. “She’s not invited.”

  Fair. She just needed to find a way to slow down and think. If she was clear, then she’d say she loved him back and be excited that he loved her.

  Something was holding her in place and years of bad choices hovered over her head. One day she’d not self destruct. She believed that, even if her parents had mortgaged their home thinking she'd save the day with those stupid medical devices no one wanted.

  She picked up her coffee cup, but her hands trembled so she quickly set it back down. “I didn’t think she was, but I’m not...”

 

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