by Maisey Yates
But Alessandro would want more than a kiss, and with him she felt it would be neither sloppy nor quick.
She let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking her head at herself. How on earth would she know how Alessandro would kiss?
But you’ll find out soon enough.
She swallowed hard, the thought alone enough to make her palms go icy again. She didn’t want to think about that, not yet.
She gazed around the bedroom, the afternoon stretching emptily in front of her. She couldn’t bear to simply sit and wait in her room; she preferred being busy and active. She’d take a walk through the palace gardens, she decided. The fresh air would be welcome.
She dressed casually but carefully in wool trousers of pale grey and a twin set in mauve cashmere, the kind of bland, conservative clothes she’d chosen for ever.
She styled her hair, leaving it down, and did her discreet make-up and jewellery—pearls, as she always wore. It took her nearly an hour before she was ready, and then as soon as she left her room one of the staff standing to attention in the endless corridor hurried towards her.
‘My lady?’
‘I’d like to go outside, please. To have a stroll around the gardens if I may.’
‘Very good, my lady.’
She followed the man in his blue-and-gold-tasselled uniform down the corridor and then down several others and finally to a pair of French windows that led to a wide terrace with shallow steps leading to the gardens.
‘Would you like an escort—?’ he began, but Liana shook her head.
‘No, thank you. I’ll just walk around by myself.’
She breathed in the fresh, pine-scented mountain air as she took the first twisting path through the carefully clipped box hedges. Even though the palace was in the centre of Maldinia’s capital city of Averne, it was very quiet in the gardens, the only sound the rustle of the wind through the still-bare branches of the trees and shrubs.
Liana dug her hands into the pockets of her coat, the chilly wind stinging her cheeks, glad for an afternoon’s respite from the tension of meeting with the king. As she walked she examined the flowerbeds, trying to identify certain species although it was difficult with everything barely in blossom.
The sun was starting to sink behind the snow-capped peaks on the horizon when Liana finally turned back to the palace. She needed to get ready for her dinner with the king, and already she felt her brief enjoyment of the gardens replaced by a wary concern over the coming evening.
She could not afford to make a single misstep, and yet as she walked back towards the French windows glinting in the late afternoon sun she realised how little information King Alessandro had given her. Was this dinner a formal occasion with members of state, or something smaller and more casual? Would the queen be dining with them, or other members of the royal family? Liana knew that Alessandro’s brother, Leo, and his wife, Alyse, lived in Averne, as did his sister, the princess Alexa.
Her steps slowed as she came up to the terrace; she found herself approaching the evening with both dread and a tiny, treacherous flicker of anticipation. Sandro’s raw, restless energy might disturb her, but it also fascinated her. It was, she knew, a dangerous fascination, and one she needed to get under control if she was going to go ahead with this marriage.
Which she was.
Anything else, at this point, was impossible, involved too much disappointment for too many people.
She forced her worries back along with that fascination as she opened the French windows. As she came inside she stopped short, her breath coming out in a rush, for Alessandro had just emerged from a gilt-panelled door, a frown settled between his dark, straight brows. He glanced up, stilling when he saw her, just as Liana was still.
‘Good evening. You’ve been out for a walk in the gardens?’
She nodded, her mind seeming to have snagged on the sight of him, his rumpled hair, his silvery eyes, his impossibly hard jaw. ‘Yes, Your Highness.’
‘You’re cold.’ To her complete shock Alessandro touched her cheek with his fingertips. The touch was so very slight and yet so much more than she’d expected or ever known. Instinctively she jerked back, and she watched as his mouth, which had been curving into a faint smile, thinned into a hard line.
‘I’ll see you at dinner,’ he said flatly. He turned away and strode down the hall.
Drawing a deep breath, she threw back her shoulders, forced herself to turn towards her own suite of rooms and walk with a firm step even as inside she wondered just what would happen tonight—and how she would handle it.
Copyright © 2014 by Kate Hewitt
ISBN-13: 9781460327265
PRETENDER TO THE THRONE
Copyright © 2014 by Maisey Yates
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