by Miranda Lee
‘I’m not sure. If I say yes to straight away, I’ll have to go off the pill.’
‘True. Is there a problem with that?’
‘Well, yes, sort of. What if the pimples come back?’
Leo’s heart turned over when he saw the immediate panic in her eyes. Poor darling. As if he would love her any less with a few pimples. But he could see that it would definitely bother her. Those teenage scars had indeed run deep.
‘I very much doubt that would happen now, Violet,’ he reassured her. ‘But if you’re worried you can go see a skin specialist first. London has the best doctors in the world.’
‘The best movie directors in the world too,’ she told him with a warm smile.
Leo was touched by her compliment, and by her obvious love for him. He still could not believe his luck in finding this wonderful girl to spend the rest of his life with. She was so very special. So unique.
‘I could be the best in the world,’ he said warmly, ‘with you at my side. We make a great team. Now, if you’ve had enough of that coffee, it’s high time we retired to our boudoir and celebrated our engagement in a more...private fashion.’
Violet’s pulse-rate soared as they both stood up and Leo put his hand in hers.
‘You’re not going to tie me up again, are you?’ she whispered to him as he led her away.
‘Not unless you want me to,’ he whispered back.
‘No, not tonight. Tonight I want you to make love to me with our arms around each other and our eyes meeting.’
‘You mean in the missionary position?’
‘That’s a silly name for it. I’m renaming it the loving position.’
By then they’d reached the lift and didn’t have to whisper.
‘Okay,’ Leo said. ‘I just hope I can remember how to do it that way. It’s been a while...’
Violet glared up at him and he laughed.
They made love in the loving position not once but twice, Leo realising as he drifted off to sleep afterwards that sex was extremely satisfying that way when the couple loved each other.
Which they did.
Oh yes, they did indeed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
New Year’s Eve, eight months later
‘YOU MAKE A VERY beautiful bride,’ Violet’s mother said. ‘I just love you in that dress. It’s glorious. Don’t you think so, Vanessa?’
‘Absolutely,’ Vanessa replied warmly. ‘Leo’s one lucky man.’
‘I think I’m the lucky one here,’ Violet said as she thought of the man she was about to marry. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a husband, and more. Not just strong, sexy and successful, but sensitive too. And generous to a fault. He’d paid for her whole family to fly down to Sydney for their wedding. He’d also paid too for them to stay at a five-star hotel and be chauffeured around in not one, but two limousines. There were, after all, eight of them now that Gavin had snared himself a fiancée of his own, a truly nice girl who was obviously in awe of the man her future sister-in-law was marrying tonight.
She wasn’t the only one. Her parents thought Leo was the ant’s pants. So did Gavin and Steve. Vanessa was the only one in her family ever to have expressed any doubts over their relationship. Initially, she’d worried that Leo might be too much a man of the world for Violet. But once she’d met Leo, and he’d worked his charm on her, all her doubts had disappeared.
A tap on the door of Henry’s bedroom had the three women turning to see who it was. Henry popped his head inside.
‘Not to worry,’ he said smilingly. ‘It’s only me, not the groom. I do know the tradition, girls. But I have a little surprise for Violet. And here she is!’
So saying, he pushed the door open and in walked Joy, looking extremely elegant in pale grey.
‘Oh!’ Violet cried, delighted almost beyond words. ‘But...but...’ Joy had been invited, of course, but she’d said she couldn’t come, that her arthritis was too bad to sit on a plane that long.
Joy grinned. ‘At the last minute I decided to take up Leo’s offer to fly first class. He’s a very persuasive man, that fiancé of yours.’
Violet laughed. ‘Tell me about it. But I’m so glad to see you,’ she said, coming forward to give her dear friend a big hug.
‘Me too, love. So this is your mum and your sister, I presume? What a good-looking family you have.’
Violet had to smile whilst her mother and sister preened under Joy’s compliment. Leo wasn’t the only charmer in her life, it seemed.
Another tap on the door sent all four women whirling to face it.
‘Just me again,’ Henry said as the door opened once more. ‘It’s almost time, Violet. After all, we want to get through the ceremony before those fireworks go off at nine. Otherwise we won’t hear a single word.’
‘Okay. Mum, you go and tell Dad to come in. Vanessa, you help me get these flowers in my hair. And Joy, you go with Henry and make sure everyone is assembled out on the balcony.’ They would easily fit, Violet knew, the only guests being her family, along with Henry, Liam and Liam’s new girlfriend. She hadn’t wanted to invite any would-bes if they could-bes.
‘I can’t believe how confident you’ve become,’ Vanessa said after the others had departed. ‘And how beautiful.’
Tears pricked at Violet’s eyes at her sister’s words. They were sweet words, admittedly, but they reminded Violet of a time when she hadn’t been at all beautiful, let alone confident. She supposed it was rather amazing, the change in her. Amazing, but rather wonderful. Certainly nothing to cry about.
‘Guess what?’ she said happily. ‘I changed my old pill to the mini-pill and look—not a pimple in sight!’
‘You have fantastic skin now, Violet. I envy you. I’m beginning to get wrinkles.’
‘Oh, rubbish. You are not. You’re what they call a yummy mummy. I hope I keep my figure the way you have after I have children.’
‘That’s one thing I wanted to ask you, but didn’t dare. Does Leo want children?’
‘Absolutely. He’d have one tomorrow but I decided I wanted him to myself for a while.’
‘I don’t blame you. He’s utterly gorgeous. I’d ask you what he’s like in bed but I don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.’
For the first time in ages, Violet blushed.
Vanessa’s eyebrows lifted. ‘That good, eh?’
‘Er...yes.’
‘I’d envy you if Steve wasn’t bloody brilliant in the sack. The things he does! I’d tell you, except I don’t want to shock my little sister.’
Violet was still smiling to herself when her father walked in.
‘Well, blow me down!’ her dad said straight away. ‘How did an ugly old coot like me have two such beautiful daughters?’
Violet and Vanessa exchanged shocked glances. They’d never heard their father say that many words in a row before, let alone complimentary ones. Maybe some charm had rubbed off from Leo and Henry.
‘So, are you ready, girls? Henry says it’s time to get this show on the road.’
‘We’re ready,’ they both chorused and picked up their bouquets. Vanessa’s was a small pink-and-white posy whilst Violet carried a long trailing bouquet of white roses.
* * *
Leo stood there, desperately trying to look cool and sophisticated in his James Bond tuxedo whilst he waited for Violet to make an appearance. But everything in his body was tingling with anticipation. Eight long months he’d waited for this night, longer than he’d wanted. But he’d bowed to Violet’s wishes that they marry on the same night and in the same setting that they’d met, a romantic notion which he hadn’t really shared. Till now. Now it did seem right. And yes, very romantic.
In truth, there wasn’t anything Leo wouldn’t do to please Violet, even waiting this long to marry her, which had been a stretch for his patience.
In the back of his mind, however, he’d known it was wise to wait awhile, thereby giving Violet a chance to be sure about her feelings. It would have bee
n very selfish of him to rush someone so young and inexperienced into marriage. So he’d waited and watched. And now he too was sure. She loved him as much as he loved her. Maybe even more. She was a dream to live with, and to work with, an asset to his life in more ways than one.
She was a dream to make love to as well, always so responsive and willing. And quite naughty at times. She’d actually bought him a pair of fur-lined handcuffs for his birthday. When he’d pretended to be shocked she’d said not to worry, that it was false fur.
He smiled at the recollection. Wicked minx!
Henry dug him in the ribs suddenly, snapping Leo back to the present. The music had started up, not traditional bridal music, but a song which Leo had chosen: Stevie Wonder singing “Isn’t She Lovely?”
Vanessa came out onto the balcony first, her pale-pink dress suiting her blonde prettiness. She smiled at him as she passed, although by then Leo’s attention was all on the bride.
Leo sucked in a breath sharply when he first caught sight of Violet. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting her to wear, possibly something satiny with a beaded bodice, a big skirt and a long veil with a train. Brides seemed to like that combination.
He should have known his Violet would be different.
Yes, the dress was bridal white. But the style was very simple and very elegant, the skirt long and slender, the fitted bodice strapless without being too low-cut. She didn’t wear a veil. Instead, some lovely white flowers decorated her hair which had grown longer during the last eight and a half months, falling almost to her shoulder blades. Her jewellery was minimal, just the long, diamond-drop earrings which he’d bought for her when Double Trouble had opened to rave reviews.
How beautiful she looked. And how happy, her skin glowing and her eyes sparkling.
Beside her walked her father, proud as punch. He smiled at Leo as he gave his daughter’s hand to him, whispering, ‘Look after her,’ at the same time.
Leo’s fingers tightened around Violet’s.
Look after her? He would die for her!
The elderly celebrant—a friend of Henry—stepped forward.
‘We are gathered here tonight,’ he said in a deep, rich voice, ‘to witness the joining in marriage of Leo and Violet. They did not want to say the traditional vows but have written their own words which are special to them. Leo, would you like to speak first?’
Leo turned Violet to face him, taking both of her hands in his. ‘My darling Violet,’ he said, stunned at how choked up he was. He had to clear his throat before going on.
‘Thank you for loving me...and for consenting to be my wife. I promise to be a faithful husband and to do everything in my power to bring you happiness. Everything I have is yours, my beautiful bride,’ he said as he took the wedding band from Henry and slipped it on Violet’s finger. ‘My worldly goods. My body. And my unconditional love.’
Violet knew it was her turn then, but she found she could not speak at first. It didn’t help that her mother had started weeping. But when Leo gave her fingers a gentle squeeze she gathered herself and took Leo’s wedding band from his father.
‘My darling Leo,’ she said. ‘Thank you for loving me and for asking me to marry you. I promise to be a faithful wife and do everything in my power to bring you happiness. You are my hero, my one true love. I will care for you and cherish you all the days of my life.’ So saying, she slipped the wedding band on his finger.
Leo saw the moisture pooling in her eyes in tandem with his own. Thankfully the celebrant, perhaps sensing that emotion was in full flow and about to break banks, pronounced them man and wife without further ado.
Leo didn’t wait for permission to kiss the bride, sweeping Violet into his arms straight away. And it was whilst they were kissing that the nine o’clock fireworks started, a welcome distraction for the others and for the rather emotional couple.
‘I love you, Violet,’ Leo murmured against her trembling mouth, his arms tightening around her.
‘Do you think we could leave now?’ Violet whispered back.
‘I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway.’
‘Oh. Pity.’
‘Weddings aren’t just for the happy couple, you know. They’re also for their families. At least that was what you told me.’
‘Silly me.’
‘No, not silly at all. Sweet. Besides, there’s no hurry, is there? We have the rest of our lives together.’
‘Oh,’ Violet said with the happiest of sighs. ‘I do like the sound of that.’
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Beholden to the Throne by Carol Marinelli
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CHAPTER ONE
‘SHEIKH King Emir has agreed that he will speak with you.’
Amy looked up as Fatima, one of the servants, entered the nursery where Amy was feeding the young Princesses their dinner. ‘Thank you for letting me know. What time—?’
‘He is ready for you now,’ Fatima interrupted, impatience evident in her voice at Amy’s lack of haste, for Amy continued to feed the twins.
‘They’re just having their dinner...’ Amy started, but didn’t bother to continue—after all, what would the King know about his daughters’ routines? Emir barely saw the twins and, quite simply, it was breaking Amy’s heart.
What would he know about how clingy they had become lately and how fussy they were with their food? It was one of the reasons Amy had requested a meeting with him—tomorrow they were to be handed over to the Bedouins. First they would be immersed in the desert oasis and then they would be handed over to strangers for the night. It was a tradition that dated back centuries, Fatima had told her, and it was a tradition that could not be challenged.
Well, Amy would see about that!
The little girls had lost their mother when they were just two weeks old, and since his wife’s death Emir had hardly seen them. It was Amy they relied on. Amy who was with them day in and day out. Amy they trusted. She would not simply hand them over to strangers without a fight on their behalf.
‘I will look after the twins and give them dinner,’ Fatima said. ‘You need to make yourself presentable for your audience with the King.’ She ran disapproving eyes over Amy’s pale blue robe, which was the uniform of the Royal Nanny. It had been fresh on that morning, but now it wore the telltale signs that she had been finger-painting with Clemira and Nakia this afternoon. Surely Emir should not care about the neatness of her robe? He should expect that if the nanny was doing her job properly she would be less than immaculate in appearance. But, again, what would Emir know about the goings-on in the nursery? He hadn’t been in to visit his daughters for weeks.
Amy changed into a fresh robe and retied her shoulder-length blonde hair into a neat ponytail. Then she covered her hair with a length of darker blue silk, arranging the cloth around her neck and leaving the end to trail over her shoulder. She wore no make-up but, as routinely as most women might check their lipstick, Amy checked to see that the scar low on her neck was covered by the silk. She hated how, in any conversation, eyes were often drawn to it, and more than that she hated the inevitable questions that followed.
The accident and its aftermath were something she would far rather forget than discuss
.
‘They are too fussy with their food,’ Fatima said as Amy walked back into the nursery.
Amy suppressed a smile as Clemira pulled a face and then grabbed at the spoon Fatima was offering and threw it to the floor.
‘They just need to be cajoled,’ Amy explained. ‘They haven’t eaten this before.’
‘They need to know how to behave!’ Fatima said. ‘There will be eyes on them when they are out in public, and tomorrow they leave to go to the desert—there they must eat only fruit, and the desert people will not be impressed by two spoiled princesses spitting out their food.’ She looked Amy up and down. ‘Remember to bow your head when you enter, and to keep it bowed until the King speaks. And you are to thank him for any suggestions that he makes.’
Thank him!
Amy bit down on a smart retort. It would be wasted on Fatima and, after all, she might do better to save her responses for Emir. As she turned to go, Clemira, only now realising that she was being left with Fatima, called out to Amy.
‘Ummi!’ her little voice wailed. ‘Ummi!’
She called again and Fatima stared in horror as Clemira used the Arabic word for mother.
‘Is this what she calls you?’
‘She doesn’t mean it,’ Amy said quickly, but Fatima was standing now, the twins’ dinner forgotten, fury evident on her face.
‘What have you been teaching her?’ Fatima accused.
‘I have not been teaching her to say it,’ Amy said in panic. ‘I’ve been trying to stop her.’
She had been. Over and over she had repeated her name these past few days, but the twins had discovered a new version. Clemira must have picked it up from the stories she had heard Amy tell, and from the small gatherings they attended with other children who naturally called out to their mothers. No matter how often she was corrected, Clemira persisted with her new word.
‘It’s a similar sound,’ Amy explained. But just as she thought she had perhaps rectified the situation, Nakia, as always, copied her sister.
‘Ummi,’ Nakia joined in with the tearful protest.