Forbidden Monsieur: Princes of Avce

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Forbidden Monsieur: Princes of Avce Page 13

by Victoria Pinder


  Chelsea gingerly sat back onto the quilt Alex’s mom had made and tried not to press the fabric of her gown anywhere as she lifted her foot. “Just help me with my shoe straps. I don’t want to wrinkle the dress.”

  “Of course.” Her mother efficiently buckled them.

  Chelsea used her elbows to prop herself higher on the bed. “I can’t believe I forgot to put these on first.”

  Her mother tapped her leg to indicate she was done and then offered her arm to help her stand. Once she was upright, she checked her dress for wrinkles just to be sure.

  Her mother picked up the flower bouquets and then turned around and stared at Chelsea. She handed her the pink and red roses. “You look magnificent, Chelsea. I’m very proud of you.”

  Good. The hardest part of leaving with Alex was wondering if her mother was disappointed, not that it would have stopped her. Spending her life with a man she loved was worth far more of her thoughts and efforts. She smiled at her. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Another knock sounded on the door. Both women now held their bouquets, but Chelsea smiled when she saw Alex’s mom pop her head in. “Chelsea, my son is starting to pace.”

  Chelsea heard the music playing outside and tried to imagine Alex stressed. Her love never seemed to let anything bother him externally. She took her mother’s hand and nodded at Louise, Alex’s mother. “Sorry. I needed a minute with my mom. We’re ready now.”

  Her mom let her hand go and took the bouquet for Cassidy. “I’ll get your father.”

  Chelsea walked out into the living room. Henri and a few other workers all scattered out of the house and onto the huge area that they had converted to the dance floor. She stayed beside Louise. “The vineyard with the tiny whitelights makes me think of a fairy garden created from a dream.”

  His mother walked to the door and let the band’s music waft into the house. She leaned against the frame. “I’ve not seen a prettier picture for a wedding in years.” She turned toward Chelsea and straightened. “I believe Prince Lucio is negotiating with your Alex for a wine contract as well as his expertise to upgrade Avce’s wineries.”

  The cool night air retained some of the warmth of the day. The lights and conveniently lit fires would keep everyone from her country happy, if the wine didn’t do it. Chelsea saw her mother wave at her, so they walked out of the house and onto the porch. “As long as Alex is happy, and the contract is good, he’ll probably accept.”

  Francesca came and switched places with Louise again. Louise rushed off toward the aisle near the vines, probably to tell her son they were ready.

  Chelsea felt a bubble of happiness grow inside her as her sister walked over to join them as well.

  Her mother patted her arm. “What about you dear, are you happy?”

  Never been happier, but that wasn’t right to say. She nodded instead. “I have my own studio that overlooks the vineyard and I’m about to marry a man I adore. I couldn’t ask for more.”

  Her mother looked down toward the grass. “I’m glad you’re happy then. I’m sorry if my words ever caused you any stress.”

  “It’s all in the past, Mother.” Chelsea met her gaze. “I know you love me and I love you.”

  Tears formed in her mother’s eyes though she didn’t shed them. Instead she called out to Cassidy as she approached, “Tell Henri to get the music started and get your father.”

  Clearly her dad heard because he came rushing around the side of the building with Henri and they both took their places. Her father offered his arm and said, “You look amazing, my daughter.”

  Chelsea took his arm and they heard the wedding march begin as her family approached the ceremonial spot in the vineyard with the wedding arch. Chelsea teased her father, “You and Henri are making friends.”

  Her father winked at her. “He’s an interesting man. I think he likes Louise, Alex’s mother.”

  Good. His mother spent most of her days alone in the kitchen cooking so having someone she wanted to be with now would be good for her. But who knew the future? Chelsea patted his arm but peeked her head over the hedge that separated the open area for the reception and the ceremony. The aisles of white chairs with people in it all blurred as she immediately gazed right at Alex and told her father, “I hope they are as happy as I feel. I see Alex. Speed up, Dad.”

  They marched up the aisle, where everything felt like a dream. She gazed at Alex, and the next thing she knew goosebumps grew on her arms as he took her hand from her father. Her father said beside her, “I give you my daughter. Treat her well.”

  Alex nodded. “I will, sir.”

  Finally, they were together again. She sighed and then hugged him a little closer. “Alex.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  The last time he’d said that she’d been awful to him. This time her heart beat fast and she kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear. “Thanks. Just tell the priest to hurry. I can’t wait to start forever with you.”

  “Agreed.” He smiled at her with a light in his dark, soulful eyes.

  The wedding ceremony flitted past and everything was a blur. The next thing she could focus on was when the priest asked her, “Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

  “I do.” Chelsea felt like she was a firecracker ready to bolt into the sky and explode. Finally, this was happening. Their wedding was real.

  She heard Alex repeat the same answer, but then everything else flew past her. She stayed in his arms until the priest said, “You may kiss the bride.”

  She closed her eyes as Alex whispered, “Was that fast enough for you?”

  She let out a sigh, kept her eyes closed but hugged him closer. “Just kiss me.”

  “With pleasure, for the rest of our lives.” Alex’s lips captured hers.

  Nothing else in the world mattered.

  Clapping behind them somehow broke the spell. Her lips tingled from his kiss as she stood and everyone then clapped louder.

  They walked down the aisle which would lead their guests to the reception. Alex kept his hand in hers and said as they passed people, “I’m still in shock you invited all your country’s nobility, including Stefano.”

  They made their way toward the hedge she’d just been peeking over and toward the sparkling white tent with lights. “He has so little time to find a wife,” she whispered. “I feel bad for him. He’s handsome, rich but he doesn’t know how to share. I’m hoping some other woman here can get through to him, but I’d rather be with you.”

  Alex squeezed her hand tighter and led her into their wedding reception. “Good.”

  They walked over to the head table as she asked, “And you invited Monique and Dominic. Why?”

  He kissed her cheek as he held her chair. “What’s the point of fighting with people when I want to share my happiness with the world?”

  Instead of sitting, she hugged him and stood beside him. She sighed when he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Alexander Travers, you have the heart of a poet. It’s part of why I love you.”

  As guests filed into the tent, he whispered in her ear, “I thought it was because I made you scream in bed.”

  Her face heated and she closed her eyes to avoid anyone seeing her. “Shh, we don’t talk about that publicly.”

  He laughed from his belly and kissed her cheek. “Sure, mon cher. Just know that I love you for you and not because of anything.”

  She turned his face from her cheek and massaged his chin. “And that’s exactly what I’m talking about. You make me melt in your arms. Never stop.”

  Then his lips met hers and she felt whole.

  The End. I hope you enjoyed Alexandre and Chelsea’s story as much as I did. The next book the the Princes of Avce novel, follow Stephano, who has less than two weeks to marry, as he meets runaway bride Rossie Diaz. Order Forbidden Marquis now.

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  Forbidden Marquis Preview

  Rossie Diaz stepped away from the wedding photographer and headed toward the bridal suite of her church, waving off her bridesmaids and her mother.

  She needed to be alone.

  Inside the bridal suite, she motioned for her coworkers and her morning work crew of hair and makeup to leave because she needed a minute. They'd already created a magical setting and made her look like a princess, so why was she having a hard time? Everyone left without comment.

  Rossie sniffed the fragrant bouquet of pink roses, and then held it like she would when she walked down the aisle. She focused on Alberto Navarro, but her hands clenched, strangling the flowers. In middle school, he’d pointed and laughed at her when she walked out of class like she was beneath him and his friends.

  The memory came from nowhere and she shook it off.

  She puts the bouquet back in its holder and glided towards the mirror.

  The white gown floated all around her, fashioned after the future queen of England’s dress but with the short sleeves of the cartoon version of Cinderella when she went to the ball.

  The dress showed off her curves exceptionally well and the lace overlay seamlessly ended at her waist that flared out just as a princess’ dress might.

  She leaned closer into the mirror and fixed her eyebrow, so both were perfectly aligned as she’d done for countless brides before being one herself.

  So why couldn’t she breathe when she thought about Alberto?

  A knock sounded at the door and her body grew more alert. Rossie walked across the room and opened the door to her best friend, and maid of honor, Clara. The teal tea-length bridesmaid dress fit like a dream and her mousy brown hair was styled to perfection today. However, her face was white, and her lips thinned despite how makeup had spent hours working on her. She pointed with her fingers to come inside and Rossie let her in as Clara said, “Rossie, you look so beautiful.”

  Rossie closed the door and engaged the lock. Clara held up her older model cell phone that Rossie had given her. “Clara, what’s wrong? What do you have?”

  Clara clutched the phone but her hand trembled as she held it higher as if to give it to her. “Rossie, we’re best friends, which is why I thought you should know before…”

  Without another word, Rossie took the phone and flipped through the pictures. There was Alberto, naked, clutching and kissing her bridesmaid that he’d claimed was his cousin. Her cheeks felt hot as she handed the phone back to Clara. “He cheated on me with Abigail?”

  Clara cringed as her face went from pale to red. She took the phone back. “Abigail told me last night that she wasn’t his cousin, but I thought she was being stupid and drunk, until she sent me these just now, and I saw this, I didn’t think…”

  “Why didn’t you tell me last night?” Rossie pressed down on her chest to stop her heart from beating so fast. Her actions didn’t work, and her temper blazed with fury.

  She glared at her best friend, but then she blinked. This wasn’t Clara’s fault. Rossie un-fisted her hands at her side as Clara said, “I didn’t believe her. But then she texted these.”

  Getting a grip would be good. Red hot anger fueled her body. Rossie took a backward step, letting the adrenaline rush through her as she imagined herself knocking Alberto out with a one-two punch.

  The image made her laugh. She’d never hit anyone before. Clara widened her eyes, stared at her and asked, “What are you going to do?”

  A fight wouldn’t help, not even to make herself feel better. Rossie continued to laugh like a crazy person until she said, “Cancel the wedding.”

  Clara stepped forward and clasped her hand. Rossie focused on her best friend. Her touch was steady and calm. “Wait. I don’t want bad blood between us.”

  Rossie would have done the exact same thing if she’d been in Clara’s shoes. She hugged her tight and her mind cleared of her foolishness. “Clara, you told me the truth.” She let her go. “I need my mother and to get out of this church.”

  Clara nodded like she’d been given an order as a private in the army. She lifted her palm. “Wait here with the door closed. I’ll bring them in.”

  Wait? Before Rossie could say a word, her friend took off.

  If she stayed here for long, she’d break down and cry. This was too much. She returned to the mirror and took out the pins that held her tiara and veil in place.

  The wedding was off. Rossie didn’t need fabric falling into her face. She freed the last bobby pin and put it gently on the table like she was helping one of her hair designers, always careful not to ruin the makeup on one of her high-end customers, but then she tossed the veil on the floor.

  Gentleness was for other brides--and it wasn’t for today.

  The door handle rattled, and she stood taller, feeling every vertebra tighten as she turned toward the door. Her mother walked in with that proud streak of gray in her dark hair and instantly she pouted as she said, “Rossie, why did you take your veil off? You worked so hard this morning-”

  “Mama, I’m not getting married.” Rossie realized she sounded calmer and more collected than she felt. She walked over to her mother, looked at her without blinking once and took her hands. “Alberto is exactly what you said all along.”

  Her mother’s eyes had a brightness of knowledge that Rossie hadn’t seen in a while. Mom pointed her toward the door and said, “Change at home.”

  And that was how Rossie was strong. Her mother and father had raised her with the belief that weakness was the most unattractive thing about anyone and Rossie Diaz needed to be strong and sure of herself.

  Now she needed to prove to her mother she wasn’t crazy or needy. She’d shed no tears or dishonor her, not now, but she shook her head and said, “No, Mama.”

  Her mother crossed her arms. “Wait, what?”

  Rossie pointed to Clara and her wheeled luggage in the corner. “I’ll change at the airport. Can you get the bag in your car, Clara?”

  Clara nodded and left with the wheeled suitcase that mostly had Rossie’s makeup. She’d never leave her business supplies behind. Once Clara closed the door, she said to her mother, “I need to tell him that it is over, but will you make sure Alberto doesn’t head to Paris? I’m taking Clara instead.”

  Her mother made a pfft sound like she was ready for anything thrown at her. “With pleasure.”

  “Okay, call him in.” Rossie unbuttoned one of her delicate white fabric buttons that cut into her shoulders.

  Her mother opened the door to leave. Rossie knocked the rose bouquet off the stand and into the empty waste bucket beside it, which was where everything Alberto had ever said belonged.

  Her mother’s left eyebrow rose. “Why?”

  Rossie’s lips pressed together to hold in the fire that burned in her gut until she was sure she could speak. “Because I need to tell him to his face we’re done.”

  Her mother stood just outside of the suite. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.” Rossie took off the princess cut diamond ring in white gold.

  The door closed, and she folded her fingers around the band.

  Alberto had said he’d picked it out, but now she imagined him shopping with Abigail, the perfect blonde, blue-eyed girl from the suburbs. Judging. La
ughing at Rossie.

  Rossie blinked and the image of Abigail dissipated like bad lighting in a night club.

  She sat on the stool and took off her high heels, searching for her flats she’d worn for most of the morning, when the door opened. She stood fast and tensed as she met the brown-eyed gaze of her lanky groom who never gained a pound. He stepped inside and asked, “Rossie, isn’t it bad luck to call me in here?”

  Seriously? He closed the door and acted like he had any right to speak? She stampeded toward him and then took his hand, palm up and dropped the ring in it as she said, “It might be if we were getting married.”

  His fingers closed around the ring and he ran his other hand through his slicked hair. “All our guests have arrived.”

  No. He’d not victimize himself. Her gaze would be laser beams that blew him out of the water if she was a superhero and not your regular person. She could feel the heat steaming from her skin and her fists curled as she lifted her chin. “How is Abigail?”

  His eyes widened as he asked, “What?”

  Ugh. She wanted to throw something at him, but instead she ran her hand through her updo like she was checking for an extra pin as she glared at him. “I know she’s not your cousin.”

  Alberto took a step forward and offered both of his open palms, showing her that horrible ring. “She means nothing to me.”

  Her skin ticked like she was surrounded by a snake. She stepped back, but held her head high as she asked, “Did you tell her that when she was in your bed?”

  He pocketed his hands and her dress swished as she passed him to walk out the door. He said sharply, “She wasn’t in my bed. I was in hers.”

  Rossie turned around but held the knob as her mother had done a moment ago. “I don’t even want to know. I just want to forget you.”

  She opened the door to storm out as he said, “Rossie, I love you.”

  From the open doorway, she heard a crack of wood as people turned in their chairs. She wouldn’t let him make her feel guilty when this was his fault. She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Then you wouldn’t have cheated on me.” Rossie made it to the hall.

 

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