The Princess's New Year Wedding (The Princess Brides Book 1)

by Rebecca Winters

  Maybe her eyes were deceiving her, but when she reached the chalet she saw the fox creep out of the box, almost as if he was greeting her.

  “Fausto—I thought you were gone.” He moved around, keeping his distance, but he didn’t run off. “You’re not ready to go home yet and I suspect you’re hungry. Don’t worry. We’ll feed you in a minute.”

  She removed her snowshoes and took them inside. When she went back out, she was met with another surprise. In the distance she saw Stefano’s tall, striking physique coming closer. He dragged the little tree behind him that he’d broken off for her.

  The trouble he’d gone to in order to make her happy caught at her heart. This husband of hers was turning out to be a very different person from the man she’d envisioned.

  “You didn’t have to do this.”

  He lowered it to the snow and shot her a penetrating glance. “I’ve never put up a Christmas tree in the chalet before. It’ll be a first for me. I like the idea that we’re doing this together to set a tradition. How’s our fox?”

  “He’s been waiting for us. I’m sure he’s hungry.”

  “Go ahead and feed him while I erect a stand for the tree.” Stefano reached inside his parka and handed her the bag of food.

  While he took off his snowshoes, she put some of the food in the dish. The fox must have smelled it because he hurried over to the box and began to eat. “Yup. I’ve ruined him. While you’re busy, I’ll go inside and get dinner started.”

  She went inside to remove her ski clothes, then hurried upstairs to turn on the fireplace before going to the kitchen. They’d been out much longer than she’d realized. Stefano had to be starving, too. She’d seen some filet mignon steaks she could thaw and decided to make cheese dumplings. Along with potatoes and onions to cook, she would put a salad together.

  While she’d been preparing their meal, Stefano had come upstairs several times. Once to bring up the box with Fausto, then the tree that he stood in one corner of the living room against the window.

  He’d brought Christmas inside, thrilling her.

  The sight of him placing it in the right position appealed to her deepest emotions and fulfilled fantasies she’d never thought would come true.

  After he disappeared again, she found a bottle of red wine on the shelf and put it on the table. Soon she had it set and brought out two wineglasses. Lanza also lighted two candles ensconced in brass holders from one of the end tables and used them for a centerpiece. Everything was set.

  Since he still hadn’t appeared, she hurried to her bedroom to change into a blue silk blouse and khaki pants. After brushing her hair so that it fell from a side part, she left it undone and put on her pink frost lipstick. Now she felt more presentable.

  When she left the bedroom, she almost ran into Stefano, who was just coming out of his room. He’d shaved and looked so incredibly attractive in a black silk shirt and trousers, her legs came close to buckling.

  His dark gaze enveloped her, sending heat throughout her body. “I wondered where the cook had gone. Something smells wonderful.”

  They headed for the living room. “I made cheese dumplings. They’ll be done in five minutes.” She’d wanted to make something special for him. Heaven help her, but her desire for him was becoming overwhelming. She couldn’t believe she was the same woman who before coming to the chalet had considered her life a disaster area.

  Stefano put more water in a bowl for Fausto while she fixed their dinner plates and took them to the table. “Come and eat while everything is hot.”

  It amused her to watch him devour all his dumplings first. After he put down his fork, his eyes bored into hers. “I’ve never tasted dumplings like these before and could eat the whole pan.”

  “I like them, too. Bianca, the head cook, says they’re her signature recipe.”

  “I can see why.”

  “Sometimes she makes them with spinach.”

  “I prefer them just the way they are. In fact, this whole dinner is exceptional. You’re an excellent cook.”

  “Thank you.”

  He opened the wine and poured some into their glasses. Then he lifted his in her direction. “Felice Anno Nuovo, Signora Casale.”

  He’d just called her Mrs. Casale, reminding her she was his wife. It seemed he hadn’t minded her using the name, after all. The words sent a delicious shiver down her spine. She picked up her glass in salute.

  “Our New Year has swept in with an apocalyptic force. Who would have thought we’d be spending it with a little red creature and a broken off treetop? Thank you for going to that trouble. The tree makes the room more festive.”

  There was a glimmer in his eyes that melted her bones. “So do the candles and the wine.” She could tell he wanted to get on a more intimate footing, and she knew she’d like that, too. But she couldn’t prevent feeling anxious about the future. It was lovely being together while they were snowed in. Once they returned to Domodossola and he was free to make plans, they might not have this closeness again.

  “Stefano, can we talk frankly this evening?” She needed some answers.

  He cast her a level glance. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?”

  “Before you heard that Alberto had been killed, what was your situation at the time? I’m not talking about your business affairs. I imagine you might have been involved with a woman you possibly loved. If that was the case, the shock of having to leave her and fly home to your family to deal with your pain had to have devastated you.”

  Lines carved his features. “Tell me something first. I know gossip abounds, but what makes you think there’s been a particular one?”

  “It’s a natural assumption.” Before he could say anything else, she asked him another question. “Before the wedding, did you have time to see her one more time? If there was a woman, there would have been so much to discuss about the huge change in your life that meant taking on your royal duty by marrying me.”

  “I don’t like that word,” he bit out.

  Heat filled her cheeks. “Neither do I, but that’s what it was,” she fired back. “We both knew what was ahead of us, and now it’s done. But the real test of living has only begun. I’m asking about your love life because I’m concerned. Four days after the funeral my father told me you’d asked for my hand in marriage.

  “If there was a woman you were close to, then you weren’t able to see her in person before our fathers set the seal on our marriage. Were you able to fly over and spend time with her during the year?

  “If so, I can’t imagine how she would have handled it. Is it possible she’ll try to hurt you in some way and cause damage to our marriage that will be all over the media? If you and I hope to endure a lifetime together, then I would like to be aware of what we could be up against.”

  “You’re afraid of public scandal?”

  “I don’t want to be.”

  He poured both of them more wine and swallowed part of his. “I’m prepared to give you all the honesty in me. I’ve known my share of beautiful, exciting women, but never lived with one. To answer your question, if I’d found the woman you’re talking about—the one I couldn’t live without—I’d be married by now. Believe me, there’s no one out there who’s going to make trouble.”

  “Thank you for that reassurance.” She swallowed the rest of her wine. “My case is different because there was no other man from the moment I was betrothed.”

  “Not even a special man before?”

  “No.”

  “Then can we talk about my brother for a minute? How did you feel about losing Alberto?”

  Lanza had wondered how much he’d thought about it. His probing question, demanding an honest answer, had taken them to the heart of the matter.

  “The shock of his death was one thing. But not having been in love, I didn’t grieve over him. Of course I liked and
admired him. The only way I can explain is that I felt guilt because I hadn’t experienced acute grief. My parents were very upset I didn’t fall to pieces over the news.”

  Stefano shook his head. “No one on the outside would expect you to feel grief since you and my brother didn’t have a relationship like a man and wife.”

  “I’m glad you understand that, but we’re talking about you. Your case is totally different because you’ve enjoyed a nonroyal life and have probably been intimate with a woman, which would only be natural.

  “Now that I know the truth about you, will you humor me with a little more honesty and tell me how you felt about Alberto having to marry me?”

  He took another drink of wine. “I didn’t consider it until I fell for a local girl before going into the military. That was the first time I’d given his betrothal any serious thought and it gutted me to the point that I never stopped feeling sorry for him.”

  His frankness made her smile. “Did you tell him as much?”

  “Yes. Every chance I got. But when I could see that my needling didn’t make a dent in his good nature, I eventually stopped and tried not to think about it anymore.”

  “Alberto wasn’t the flappable type.”

  “He was my total opposite. Now it’s my turn. How did your sisters feel about your having to be the sacrificial lamb?”

  She chuckled to hide her pain. “Donetta was overjoyed not to be in my shoes. Fausta pitied me because I was the baby. She teased me for always minding our parents.”

  “Why did you?”

  Her delicate brows lifted. “Mind them, you mean?”

  He nodded.

  Stefano didn’t know her father was ill. If she told him that was why she’d agreed to this marriage, it could change things. He’d hoped to have a lot of freedom to travel for his work. She wanted that same freedom, too, which was why she had no intention of telling him the truth.

  “Donetta said it was because I didn’t have a backbone.”

  His eyes narrowed on her mouth. “Donetta doesn’t have a clue who you are.”

  Neither did Lanza, but being married to Stefano had thrust her into a whole new realm of existence. She was praying for this marriage to work. At the moment she appreciated him for being forthright. She could live with that when he was around, which wouldn’t be that often.

  While she was deep in thought she heard a little yip. For a while she’d forgotten about the fox. “Sounds like he wants attention.” She got up from the table to give Fausto a few bits of her steak. “Uh-oh. You’re out of food again.”

  Stefano pushed himself away from the table and stood up. “I’ll fix him some more muesli and apple bits. Tomorrow I’m taking him to the tree and leaving him. He’s too dependent on us already.”

  “I hope he has family close. What will he do if he finds himself alone?”

  “Survive like all of his species.”

  “I want to believe you.”

  * * *

  The tremor in Lanza’s voice found its way to Stefano’s heart. So did the concerns she’d voiced for fear of scandal from his past that could hurt them. More than ever he needed to do everything he could to reassure her he meant them to enjoy a loving, wonderful marriage.

  After he’d prepared more food for Fausto, he did the dishes with her. When it came to the dumplings pan, he finished what was left before putting it in the dishwasher and saved one for later. “They’re better than dessert,” he quipped when he caught her smiling at him. Soon their work was done. She blew out the candles.

  Now that darkness had crept over the mountains, Lanza went back into the living room. She spread a blanket on the floor by the box and sat next to it so she could see inside.

  He walked over to the breakfront and reached for a deck of cards. “How about a game?” he asked and found a spot next to her.

  She took a look at them. “Judging by how well-worn they are, I don’t know that I dare play with you.”

  “Just a few hands of Scopa.”

  Lanza flashed him a mischievous smile. “Do your best.”

  He dealt three cards and the game began. The idea was to sweep the board and take tricks until you accrued eleven points. Right away she started to outplay him and he knew he was confronting an expert. For the next hour they were fully engaged and he’d never had so much fun in his life.

  “You play like an old salt. Who taught you?”

  “The head gardener’s father, Duccio. He was in the merchant marines and was an invalid with a bad leg. After his wife died, I used to go to their cottage on the estate with a treat for him and he’d teach me to play all sorts of card games.

  “Being with Duccio made me realize the plight of the disabled navy men who ought to have more health care and financial help after serving their country.”

  Stefano flicked her a glance. “I don’t know who was more brilliant, the teacher or the pupil. You’ll have to introduce me.”

  “I can’t.” A somber expression broke out on her face. “Duccio died last year.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “So am I. He was a good friend who could tell the most amazing tales and kept me mesmerized.”

  No doubt she’d brought sunshine into his life. “Is his son a cardsharp, too?”

  “No. Antonio says they’re a waste of time when there’s a world of growing things to cultivate and provide beauty.”

  Her imitation of his words and the way he said them made Stefano laugh. The sound brought Fausto’s head up.

  “Oh, he’s so adorable,” she crooned.

  Fausto wasn’t the only adorable creature in the living room. “You’ve made a friend, Lanza.”

  “I know. It’s got me worried.”

  “Tomorrow we’ll try to wean him so he’ll survive on his own. For now I’m going to take him downstairs. He’ll be warm enough down there.” Stefano wanted Lanza’s complete attention and the fox needed to be on his own. “I’ll be right back.”

  In a few minutes he’d returned. “I want a rematch of Scopa to repair the dent to my ego.”

  This time she made a sound of protest. “You don’t fool me. I bet you let me win.”

  “I swear I didn’t! Don’t you trust me?”

  Her eyes fused with his. “Of course I do.”

  His heart thundered in his chest. “I’m glad. Your turn first.”

  They played a long match. “You won, Stefano.”

  “It was a hard-fought battle. Now I want to claim my prize.” She’d been lying on her stomach to play. Before giving her any time to think, he lay down next to her and rolled her into him. “I’ve been waiting to do this all night.”

  So saying, he lowered his mouth to kiss her the way he’d been dreaming about since that chaste kiss at the altar. She had a mouth to die for and he couldn’t get enough of her. He was feverish with longing, loving the feel of her body and her response that was giving him a heart attack.

  “Lanza—” He was breathless with desire. “You have no idea how delightful you are.” In the next breath he tangled his legs with hers and pulled her on top of him. It was heaven to plunge his fingers into her fabulous long hair and kiss the daylights out of her.

  “Stefano...” she murmured.

  “I’m going too fast, aren’t I, bellissima?” The hardest thing he’d ever had to do was stop making love to her. But she wasn’t quite ready, so he moved her off him gently, allowing her to get to her feet before he did. His wife swayed a little and looked thoroughly kissed.

  With her eyes glazed over she said, “Dormi bene, Stefano.”

  In a flash, she disappeared from the room, leaving him bereft. Being alone with Lanza had set off a fire that brought him alive in a whole new way. He hadn’t been ready to call it a night. Far from it. They’d actually been communicating on a level he hadn’t expected to happen this soon.

>   He gathered the scattered cards and put them away, but his body was trembling. Once he’d folded the blanket and put it on a chair, he turned down the fire.

  Letting out a tormented sound, he headed for his bedroom, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time. Thank goodness he could get on his computer, but she had nothing. It made him feel guilty.

  He paused outside her door. Of course there was no sound. On a whim, he knocked on it.

  “Lanza? Would you like my radio to listen to? I have plenty of batteries.”

  After ten seconds he heard, “You’re sure you don’t want it?”

  She needed help going to sleep, too. “I’m positive. Give me a minute and I’ll put it by your door.”

  “Thank you. Sogni d’oro, Stefano.”

  “Sweet dreams to you, too, sposa mia.”

  He hurried into his room and brought the transistor radio to her door. He knocked once more. “It’s here. Enjoy.” After putting it down, he went back to his room and shut the door.

  After getting ready for bed in a fresh pair of sweats, he sat down to a new batch of emails. Enzo had sent another update a few minutes ago, but nothing had changed in terms of the mountain road being cleared. Among the messages was one that came from the Casale Mining Company near Zacatecas, Mexico.

  He hadn’t been there for four months and wouldn’t be going again for another four or five. The message was sent from Alicia Montoya, the only woman he’d been intimate with for a short time in the past three years. She worked in the main office, but he hadn’t given her a thought in all this time.

  Stefano let out a small groan. From the moment he’d learned she had a husband and hadn’t told him, he’d stopped seeing her because he had no desire to get involved with a married woman.

  He found out she and her husband lived apart, but they couldn’t divorce because of religious reasons. Stefano understood her pain, but the revelation had changed the situation for him. Unfortunately, she had access to the files in the office.

  Stefano, I have to see you. We must talk. I’ve been confiding in my priest. He thinks a divorce might be possible because I’ve lived apart from Julio for over a year with no hope of reconciliation. Answer me back and tell me you still want to be with me. I can’t bear this separation from you any longer. Alicia.