Becoming the Prince's Wife (Princes of Europe)

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Becoming the Prince's Wife (Princes of Europe) Page 15

by Rebecca Winters


  “Battle armor?” Would wonders never cease? He kissed her lips once more. “Remind me to send the doctor a big bonus check for services rendered.”

  “I already wrote him one.” She ran kisses along his jawline. “You’ve got a beard, but I like to see you scruffy.”

  “Maybe I’ll let it grow out.”

  “Whatever you want. Oh—there’s just one more thing. The doctor says my guilt will be cured after I’ve talked to your mother. Even though she’ll never forgive me for ruining her dreams for you, I have to confront her.”

  “We’ll do it together tonight.”

  “But you’ll still be in here. The doctor won’t release you until tomorrow. We’ll talk to her then.”

  “In that case, come closer and give me your mouth again.”

  She looked toward the door. “Isn’t this illegal? What if someone catches us?”

  “Do we care? This is my private room.”

  “Darling,” she whispered, hugging him to her. He was all she ever wanted. “What happened on the volcano? I have to know.”

  He let out a sigh and rehearsed what went on after the first lava fountain appeared. “When I saw that plume shoot into the atmosphere, I knew we needed to run for our lives.”

  She gripped him harder. “Were you terrified?”

  “Not then. The sight was glorious.”

  “I saw it from a distance. I don’t think there’s anything in nature to compare to it.”

  “There isn’t.” He rubbed his hands over her back. “Do you remember when you were up there with me the first time and the ground shook?”

  Carolena shivered. “I’ll never forget.”

  “Well, try to imagine it so strong, neither Razzi nor I could stand up. That’s when it started getting exciting. But the moment came when the force threw me forward. I hit the ground and lost hold of the things I was carrying. Then my gas mask came off.”

  “Val—”

  “That’s when I got scared because I couldn’t find it in the darkness.”

  At this point she wrapped her arms around his neck and wept against his chest. “Dante says you’re a hero for getting close enough to record the data. I adore you.”

  His breath caught. “You mean, you’re not going to tell me I have to give up my profession?”

  She lifted her head. “Are you kidding? Nothing could be more exciting than what you do. I plan to go up with you a lot. When we have children, you can introduce them to the mountain. We’ll get the whole family in on the act.”

  * * *

  A week later, Carolena sat in front of the same mirror in the same cabin on the yacht brushing her hair. She’d just showered and put on the white toweling robe hanging on the hook in the bathroom.

  But there were differences from the first time she’d come down to this room. The first time she’d been on board, the yacht was stationary. Now it was moving. But the gentle waters of the Ionian carried it along like so much fluff. Their destination was the Adriatic. Valentino had mentioned Montenegro as one of their stops. To Carolena, it was all like part of a dream.

  Only two hours ago the priest had performed the marriage ceremony in the chapel in front of loved ones and Valentino’s best friend, Matteo. On her ring finger flashed an emerald set in white gold. She was now Signora Valentino Agostino Cellini, and she was nervous.

  How strange for her to have been so fearless before marriage when she’d thought they were going to make love the first time. Now she really was a bride and her heart thudded with sickening intensity at the thought of it.

  A rap on the door caused her to get up jerkily from the dressing table chair. When she turned, she saw that Valentino had slipped into the room wearing a navy robe. He moved toward her, so sinfully handsome her mouth went dry.

  “I can tell something’s wrong, bellissima. I know you missed your parents and grandparents at our wedding. I’d like to think they were looking on and happy. Let me be your family from now on.”

  It was a touching thing for him to say. She sucked in her breath. “You are. You’re my whole life.”

  His eyes caressed her. “I thought you’d enjoy re-creating our first night on board, but maybe you would have preferred someplace else.”

  “Never. This is the perfect place.”

  “As long as you mean it.”

  “Of course I do.”

  She didn’t know what his intentions were until he picked her up in his arms. “Then welcome to my life, sposa mia.”

  He lowered his mouth to hers and drank deeply as he carried her through the hall to the master suite. After he followed her down on the bed, he rolled her on top of him. “Never was there a more beautiful bride. I realize we’ve only known each other a short time, yet it seems like I’ve been waiting for you a lifetime. Love me, Carolena. I need you,” he cried with such yearning, she was shaken by a vulnerability he rarely showed.

  No longer nervous, her instincts took over and she began loving him. The rapture he created took her to a place she’d never been before. Throughout the night they gave each other pleasure she didn’t know was possible.

  “Don’t ever stop loving me,” she begged when morning came around. If they slept at all, she didn’t remember. “I didn’t know it could be like this, that I could feel like this.” She laid against him, studying the curve of his mouth, the lines of his strong features. “I love you, Val. I love you till it hurts. But it’s a wonderful kind of hurt.”

  “I know.” He ran his hands through her hair. “Pleasure-pain is ecstasy. We have the rest of our lives to indulge in it to our heart’s content.” He gave her an almost savage kiss. “To think what we might have missed—”

  “I don’t want to think about it. Not ever. You set me on fire the first time you looked at me. Not everyone loves the way we do. It’s overpowering.”

  “That’s the way it should be when it’s right.”

  She kissed his jaw. “Do you know who looked happy last night?”

  “My mother.”

  Carolena raised up on her elbow. “You saw it, too?”

  “She’d never admit it, but deep down she’s glad her sons have found true love, something that was denied her.”

  Her eyes teared up. “After meeting you, I knew she’d always been a great mother, but the accepting way she has handled our news has made me admire her more than you could ever know. I’m growing to love her, Val. I want to get close to her. She’s missing her daughter and I’m missing my grandmother.”

  He hugged her tighter. “Do you have any idea how much it means for me to hear you say that?”

  “It’s so wonderful belonging to a family again. To belong to you.”

  “You’re so wonderful I can’t keep the secret Vincenzo wanted to tell you himself. When he springs it on you, promise me you’ll pretend you knew nothing about it.”

  “They’re going to have a baby.”

  His dark blue eyes danced. “If they are, I don’t know about it yet. This particular secret concerns you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Instead of handing you a check for invaluable services rendered to both our countries, he approached the latest owner of your grandparents’ farm. After some investigation, he learned they’re willing to sell it to you, but there’s no hurry.”

  “Val— Are you serious?”

  He rolled her over on her back and smiled down at her. “I thought that would make you happy. We’ll use it as our second home when we fly to Arancia for visits.”

  “Our children will play in the lemon grove with Abby and Vincenzo’s children.”

  “Yes. And when we get back from our honeymoon, we’ll decide where we want to live.”

  She cradled his handsome face in her hands, loving him to distraction. “It’s already been decided
by Vito, but it’s his secret. You have to promise not to tell him I told you.”

  His brows quirked. “My brother?”

  “Yes. He said he’s willing to be king so long as you’re close by to help him. To quote him, ‘The two Vs stick together.’ He’s already started a renovation of the unoccupied north wing of the palace where he says you two used to play pirates.

  “I found out it has a lookout where you can see Etna clearly. It’s the perfect spot for all your scientific equipment. He said the wing will be permanently closed off from the rest of the palace so it will be our own house with our own private entrance.”

  Her husband looked stunned. “You’re okay with that?”

  “I love the idea of being close to family. Think how much fun it would be for his children and ours, and they’ll have a grandmother close by who will dote on them.”

  The most beautiful smile imaginable broke out on his face. “Are you trying to tell me you want a baby?”

  “Don’t you? After last night, maybe we’re already pregnant.”

  “To make certain, I think we’ll stay on a permanent honeymoon.”

  She kissed him until they were breathless. “You were right about the fire, darling. It keeps burning hotter and hotter. Love me again and never stop.”

  “As if I could...”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from NINE MONTHS TO CHANGE HIS LIFE by Marion Lennox.

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  CHAPTER ONE

  FROM THE MOMENT they were born, the Logan boys were trouble.

  They were dark-haired, dark-eyed and full of mischief. Usually ignored by their wealthy, emotionally distant parents, they ran their nannies ragged and they ran themselves ragged. There wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t dare each other to do.

  As they grew to men, tall, tough and ripped, their risks escalated. Some of those risks turned out to be foolish, Ben conceded. Joining the army and going to Afghanistan had been foolish. Back in civvies, attempting to get on with their careers, the trauma was still with them.

  Sailing round the world to distract Jake from his failed marriage had also turned out to be stupid. Especially now, as Cyclone Lila bore down on their frail life raft, as one harness hung free from the chopper overhead.

  ‘Take Ben first,’ Jake yelled to the paramedic who’d been lowered with the harness, but Ben wasn’t buying it.

  ‘I’m the eldest,’ Ben snapped. He was only older by twenty minutes but the responsibility of that twenty minutes had weighed on him all his life. ‘Go.’

  Jake refused, but the woman swinging from the chopper was risking all to save them. The weather was crazy—no one should be on the sea in such conditions. Arguing had to be done hard and fast.

  He did what he had to do. The things he said to get Jake to go first were unforgivable—but he got the harness on.

  ‘The chopper’s full,’ the paramedic yelled at Ben as she signalled for the chopper to pull them free. ‘We’ll come back for you as soon as we can.’

  Or not. They all knew how unlikely another rescue was. The cyclone had veered erratically from its predicted path, catching the whole yachting fleet unprepared. The speed at which it was travelling was breathtaking, and there was no escape. Massive waves had smashed their boat, and they were still on the edge of the cyclone. The worst was yet to come.

  At least Jake was safe—he hoped. The wind was making the rope from the chopper swing wildly, hurling Jake and the paramedic through the cresting waves. Get up there, he pleaded silently. Move.

  Then the next wave bore down, a monster of breaking foam. He saw it coming, slammed down the hatch of the life raft and held on for dear life as the sea tossed his flimsy craft like a beach ball in surf.

  We’ll come back for you as soon as we can.

  When the cyclone was over?

  The wave passed and he dared open the hatch a little. The chopper was higher, but Jake and his rescuer were still swinging.

  ‘Stay safe, brother,’ he whispered. ‘Stay safe until I see you again.’

  A cyclone was heading straight for him. Until I see you again... What a bitter joke.

  * * *

  This was no mere storm. This was a cyclone, and in a cyclone there could surely be few worse places to be than on Hideaway Island.

  Hideaway Island was tiny, a dot on the outer edge of the Bay of Islands off New Zealand’s north coast. Two of Mary’s friends, a surgeon and his lawyer wife, had bought it for a song years ago. They’d built a hut in the centre of the island and bought a serviceable boat to ferry themselves back and forth to the mainland. They’d decided it was paradise.

  But Henry and Barbara now had impressive professional lives and three children. They hardly ever made it out here. It’d been on the market for a year, but with the global financial crisis no one was buying.

  Right now, Henry and Barbara were in New York, but before they’d left, Henry had tossed Mary the keys to the hut and boat.

  ‘You might use some solitude until this fuss dies down,’ Henry told her with rough kindness. ‘Could you check on the place while we’re away? Stay if you like; we’d be grateful. It might be what you need.’

  It was what she needed. Henry was one of the few who didn’t blame her. Hideaway had seemed a reasonable place to run.

  Until today. Heinz, her terrier-size, fifty-seven-or-more-variety dog, was looking at her as if he was worried, and his worry was justified. The wind was escalating by the minute. Outside the trees were bending and groaning with its force, and the roughly built hut felt distinctly unstable.

  ‘We could end up in Texas,’ Mary muttered, shaking her useless radio. Had a transmission tower fallen in the wind? Her phone was dead and there was no radio reception.

  At six this morning the radio had said Cyclone Lila was five hundred miles off the coast, veering north-east instead of in its predicted northern trajectory. There was concern for a major international yacht race, but there’d been no hint that it might turn south and hit the Bay of Islands. Residents of New Zealand’s north had merely been advised that the outside edges could cause heavy winds.

  ‘Tie down outside furniture,’ the broadcast had said. ‘Don’t park under trees.’

  That was a normal storm warning—nothing to worry about. Mary had thought briefly of taking the boat and heading for the mainland, but the wind was rising and the usually placid sea around the islands was rough. It’d be safer to sit it out.

  Or it had seemed safer, until about an hour ago.

  Another gust slammed into the hut. A sheet of iron ripped from the roof and sleet swept inside.

  The foundations creaked and the pictures on the wall swayed.

  Uh-oh.

  ‘I think we might head for the cave,’ she told Heinz uneasily. ‘You want a walk?’

  The little terrier-cum-beagle-cum-a-lot-of-other-things cocked his head and looked even more worried. Right now a walk didn’t appeal even to Heinz.

  But the cave was appealing. Mary and Heinz had explored it a couple of days ago. It was wide and deep, set in the cliffs above the only beach where swimming was possible. Best of all, it faced west. It’d protect them from the worst of t
he gale.

  Now that the roof was open, there didn’t seem to be a choice. She had to go, and go now before it got worse. But what to take? The cave was only two or three hundred yards away. There was a flattish track and she had a trolley, the one Barbara and Henry used to lug supplies from boat to hut.

  The boat. There was a sickening thought. The tiny natural harbour on the east of the island should protect the boat in all but the worst conditions—but these were the worst conditions.

  She had no communications. No boat. She was on her own.

  So what else was new? She’d been on her own now for as long as she could remember. Like it or not, she’d learned to depend entirely on herself, and she could do it now.

  Concentrate on practicalities.

  She grabbed plastic garbage bags and started stuffing things inside. Provisions, dog food, firestarters, kindling, bedding. Her manuscript. That was a joke, but she was taking it anyway.

  Water containers. What else? What would Barbara and Henry want her to save?

  Barbara’s patchwork quilt? The lovely cushions embroidered by Barbara’s grandmother? They went into plastic bags, too.

  Another sheet of roofing iron went flying. The cottage was now totally open to the weather.

  She had to stop. This was starting to be seriously scary and she had to pull the trolley.

  ‘Why couldn’t you be a sled dog?’ she demanded of Heinz as she hauled open the door and faced the weather. ‘You could help me pull.’

  In answer, Heinz stared up at the wildly swaying trees, jumped onto the trolley and wriggled down among the plastic bags.

  He was terrified. So was Mary, but she made herself pause. She made herself think. What else might be important?

  ‘First-aid kit,’ she muttered, and headed back into the already soaking cottage to find her medical bag. As a district nurse she still had it with her, and she’d brought it to the island just in case.

  In case of splinters. In case of colds in the head. Not in case of cyclones.

  She could hear branches splintering from the trees. There was no time for more.

 

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