Royal Holiday Bride

by Brenda Harlen

  “But he persuaded me to try once more, because he wanted a little girl. And from the moment you were born, you were his princess. Even if you hadn’t been one by blood, you would have been one in his eyes.”

  Marissa felt the sting of tears in her eyes. “I barely even remember him,” she admitted softly.

  “He was a good man,” Elena told her. “And a great father.”

  “But you didn’t love him,” she realized.

  Her mother shook her head. “Not the way he deserved to be loved,” she admitted. “And not the way he loved me.”

  “But you stayed with him.”

  “I’d made my choice, and if my life wasn’t everything I’d hoped it might be, I had no one to blame but myself,” she explained. “I still don’t know if it was right or wrong, but I can’t deny that I’ve often wondered how different things might have been if I’d walked away from Gaetan instead of toward him. And if it seems as if I pushed you into Dante’s arms, it’s because I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes I did.

  “Maybe an arranged marriage to the king of Ardena isn’t the fairy-tale romance you’ve dreamed of, but the reality is that, regardless of whom you marry, you will be stuck under the same roof with him for the rest of your life. And I guarantee you that the roof of a palace will afford you much more freedom than that of a three-bedroom farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.”

  Marissa didn’t doubt that was true. But she’d gladly live in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere if she knew that she was loved. Instead, she was preparing for her holiday wedding to the man she loved with no idea if he would ever fall in love with her, too.

  The King Finally Chooses His Queen!

  That headline—and countless variations of it—was everywhere she turned. The attention Dante and Marissa were getting was ridiculous. Part of that was a result of the world being in love with love, especially when there was a royal romance involved. Since all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding Prince William’s wedding to Catherine Middleton, everyone was clamoring for more.

  There was no doubt that Ardena’s king and the Tesorian princess made a beautiful couple. It would only make it that much more tragic when the esteemed ruler fell from grace. And he would fall—of that she had no doubt.

  If His Majesty’s conduct was deemed “unbecoming,” the King’s Council could demand that he abdicate. The provision was one that had never actually been used in Ardena’s history, but it was legal and valid, and she was determined to compile all the evidence the council needed to take away Dante Romero’s crown.

  The presence of Marissa Leandres was a complication she hadn’t anticipated. She had no grudge against the Tesorian princess, but she wasn’t going to feel guilty if the king’s bride-to-be got caught in the crossfire.

  After all, she’d been warned.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Marissa had kept in regular contact with both of her sisters-in-law, via email and telephone, since she’d left Tesoro del Mar. That contact had gone from frequent to daily in the almost two weeks that had passed since Marissa and Dante announced their engagement and the date of their Christmas wedding. So she was neither surprised nor alarmed when her cell rang and she recognized Hannah’s number on the display.

  The panic didn’t start until she heard her say, “You have to get on a plane and get your butt back here now.”

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong is that you made Gabriella promise not to have the baby until you got home, but no one checked to make sure the baby was in agreement with the deal.”

  Excitement pushed aside the panic. “Gabby’s in labor?”

  “Her water broke ten minutes ago. The contractions haven’t started yet, but—”

  “I have to call the airline. I have to get home.” While Dante had access to a private jet for business and personal use, she didn’t feel comfortable asking for a free ride back to Tesoro del Mar. In any event, commercial flights between the two island nations were frequent enough that she wouldn’t have to wait long to get on a plane for the trip home.

  “Michael just finished booking your ticket. He’s sending the details to your cell phone.”

  “In that case, I’ll see you soon.”

  She disconnected that call, then dialed Thomas to request a ride to the airport. She figured she would call Dante when she was en route but remembered that he was at a planning meeting. Instead, she grabbed her passport and hurried to the king’s private office to write a quick note for him.

  Reaching across the desk for a pen, she accidentally knocked his leather-bound agenda off the edge. As she bent to retrieve it, a flash of color caught her eye and her heart jolted.

  Between the pages, where the book had fallen open, was a single peacock feather.

  She lifted it by the broken end and stroked a finger over the silky face, tracing the outer edge of the eye as questions pounded in her brain.

  Could this be the same feather that had broken off of her mask? She didn’t know where or when she’d lost the feather, not having discovered that the decoration was missing until she got home in the early hours of the morning after the masquerade ball.

  Was it possible that Dante was the man she’d made love with that night? Holding that feather in her hand, she knew it wasn’t only possible but true. Dante was Jupiter.

  Now that she’d put the pieces together, she wondered that she hadn’t recognized the truth sooner. The unexpected attraction she’d felt when she first met the king was so eerily similar to the feelings she’d experienced with Jupiter. Not similar—the same. She hadn’t been attracted to two different men, because they were the same man.

  Bits and pieces of their conversation from that first night filtered through her mind:

  Why would I choose the identity of any one god when I could be the ruler of the gods? A logical perspective, now that she understood he was the ruler of his country.

  I can’t give you anything more than this night. Because he was a king in search of a queen, but distracted from his quest by the magical seduction of the night.

  And it explained why he’d been as careful as she to ensure that their encounter remained anonymous. Had he intended it to be one last fling before he found a bride? Or was it his modus operandi? Was he the kind of man who would take any willing woman to his bed? Certainly the tabloids had given him that reputation, and maybe if Marissa had learned of the Jupiter connection a few weeks earlier, she might have been more inclined to believe it.

  Or maybe not. Because even that night, when she knew nothing about him and had no clue as to his real identity, he’d been an attentive and considerate lover. Not a man who used women for his own purposes, but one who respected and appreciated them. And when he’d realized that he’d taken her innocence, he’d seemed genuinely remorseful.

  …if I’d known you were untouched, I would have made sure you stayed that way.

  Why?

  Because your first time shouldn’t be with a stranger.

  Jupiter had asked her if she believed in destiny—she’d told him that she was in control of her destiny. But now, realizing that her lover that night was the man she was going to marry, she acknowledged that there might have been a stronger force at work than her own determination. Maybe she and Dante really were fated to be together.

  She’d fallen halfway in love with him that night, without even knowing who he was. And now, knowing everything else that she knew about him, she couldn’t help but tumble the rest of the way.

  Through the window, she saw Thomas’s car coming down the drive. Quickly tucking the feather between the pages again, she closed the book and returned it to its place on his desk.

  She left Dante’s office, forgetting to write a note.

  After almost nine months in office, the new king felt as if he was finally getting the hang of things. Of course, it helped that the men and women who had been his father’s most trusted advisers were now his advisers. Under their tutelage, he was making re
al progress, and even the press was reporting a significant improvement in his approval rating. Or maybe it was just the holidays on the horizon that were responsible for his critics being in a more charitable mood. But the biggest change, from Dante’s perspective, was having Marissa in his life.

  If he thought about it, it might surprise him how much he looked forward to seeing her at the end of every day. So he tried not to think about it and just enjoy the happiness and contentment he felt when he was with her. Not that he was entirely content, but he knew he only had himself to blame for the status quo.

  It had been his decision to wait to consummate their relationship, and it wasn’t a decision his fiancée had acceded to willingly. As she continued to remind him by doing everything possible to elevate the level of his frustration. Sliding her hand along his thigh whenever she sat beside him at dinner, rubbing her breast against his arm when she reached for the remote control if they were watching television, letting her lips brush his ear when she whispered to him. And when he kissed her—because he wasn’t masochistic enough to cut off all physical contact—she did things with her tongue that nearly made his eyes cross.

  She might be an admitted novice at lovemaking, but she was a definite pro at seduction. And with each day that passed, his resistance was waning in direct proportion to his escalating desire. Until he began to wonder why he was fighting against something that he wanted as badly as she did.

  By the time he was heading back to his suite Wednesday night, he’d decided to stop fighting and start planning. After all, he wasn’t without his own skills when it came to setting a scene for seduction.

  He had a definite spring in his step when he set off to find his future queen.

  While another office was being renovated for Marissa’s future use, he’d suggested that she could work in the office that adjoined his suite, and she often did. But when he peeked in there today, it was empty. He checked her suite next—ensuring that he knocked before he entered, because a man could only handle so much temptation—but she wasn’t there, either. He glanced in the library, conservatory, kitchen and pool area, and though there were plenty of staff bustling around as preparations were being made not just for the wedding reception that would be held on-site but for the upcoming holiday season, there was no sign of Marissa.

  He went back to his office, only now noticing the large, flat envelope on his desk. There was a neatly printed label on the front with his name and Personal & Confidential in bold print. But there was no postmark, and he instinctively suspected that Naomi was behind whatever was in the envelope.

  He was growing tired of her threats. He’d tried to see things from her perspective: she truly believed that he’d seduced her sister then abandoned her when she got pregnant, denying paternity of the baby simply because he was embarrassed to have fathered a child out of wedlock with a commoner. If any part of that scenario had been true, she would have been entitled to her anger and her frustration. But it was all a fabrication, a lie Fiona had made up rather than admit the truth to the little sister who adored her.

  He’d been honest with Naomi, but loyalty to her sister had closed her mind to the truth. She’d refused to listen to any version of events that didn’t correspond with the story that was set in her mind. His offer to have a paternity test didn’t sway her—“the lab techs would say whatever the king wanted them to say.” His willingness to cover the costs of not just Siobhan’s medical bills but Fiona’s travel and living expenses while in Tesoro del Mar didn’t soften her—“that’s the least you can do for your own child.”

  He’d confronted Fiona. She’d been embarrassed and ashamed, but she’d owned up to her lies. Unfortunately, her confession to her sister had fallen on deaf ears and Naomi remained convinced that he’d somehow bribed or blackmailed Fiona into changing her story, burying the truth.

  If there was one bright light in the whole dark mess, it was that Marissa believed in him. Even before she’d heard the whole story, she’d trusted that he was too honorable and decent to do what Naomi had accused him of doing. And because she believed in him, she made him want to be a better person.

  He’d spent his whole life in the spotlight. He was accustomed to attention and adoration. But no one had ever made him feel the way he felt when he was with Marissa.

  He opened the flap, then tipped the package so the document would slide out. He almost hoped it was a court application for child support—he’d almost rather go public to clear up the story than continue to live with the cloud of suspicion over his head.

  Except that it wasn’t a document—it was a collection of photos that spilled out.

  Glossy, full-color, eight-by-ten photos.

  He sifted through the pictures, his heart pounding hard and fast inside his chest.

  The pictures had been taken the night of the Mythos Ball, outside of his room at the palace. Pictures of a man and a woman in period costume and elaborate masks. Jupiter and Juno.

  He sifted through the photos. The one on top was a full-body shot. More specifically, Jupiter’s body pressing Juno’s against the door, their mouths locked together. There were several photos of them kissing. And then the photographer had creatively zoomed and cropped to show a close-up of his tongue touching the bow of her top lip and his hand on her breast.

  Naomi had made it her mission to destroy him, and he realized that these pictures might finally do it. He didn’t think he would lose the throne. While the publication of the images—if that was what Naomi intended—would hardly be a shining moment for the crown, what had happened that night was nothing more complicated than two consenting adults hooking up for a few hours of mutual pleasure. There was no one who could claim it was anything more nefarious than that.

  Unless Naomi had somehow discovered Juno’s true identity. Or if—the thought made his blood run cold—she had always known the truth about who Juno was and the whole interlude had been a setup from the beginning.

  He buried his face in his hands. Okay, so maybe he was being paranoid. After all, it wasn’t as if Juno had approached him—he’d been the one who spotted her, and he’d been the one to invite her back to his room.

  Juno had been a fantasy. And for one glorious night, she’d been his fantasy. Then he’d met Marissa. And he’d discovered that she was better than any fantasy, because she was generous and compassionate and real.

  Truthfully, he didn’t even care if the people of Ardena wanted to take away his crown as a result of this indiscretion. The only thing that mattered to him was Marissa. He couldn’t lose her now. If he did—

  He felt as if there was a clamp around his chest, squeezing tight.

  No, he wouldn’t even consider the possibility.

  But what if she’d seen these pictures?

  Marissa went straight to the hospital from the airport and managed to arrive a full twenty minutes before Talisa Jaime Leandres entered the world.

  Hannah and Michael were already at the hospital when she arrived. While they waited, they talked about weddings and babies and all manner of subjects in between. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Marissa and Hannah talked while Michael paced.

  And then, finally, Cameron stepped out of the delivery room. He looked bone-tired but was wearing a mile-wide grin. “Who wants to see our beautiful new baby girl?”

  Of course they all did, but Marissa let Hannah and Michael lead the way because she knew that they had to be home for Riley when she finished school. After they’d congratulated the parents and oohed and aahed over the baby and promised to come back later with Riley, they slipped out of the room, allowing Marissa her first unobstructed view of the newborn.

  “Oh, wow.” She felt the sting of tears and a sharp pang of longing as her gaze landed on the perfect little girl swaddled in a pink blanket in her sister-in-law’s arms. “She’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  The proud daddy smiled. “She is, isn’t she?”

  He sounded so smug that Marissa couldn’t resist teasing, “Because
she looks like her mother.”

  “I think she has her daddy’s nose,” Gabby said loyally.

  Marissa studied the baby for a minute, then shook her head. “Nope—no sign of her daddy at all.”

  “And I’m okay with that,” Cameron said as he leaned in to kiss his wife. “Because I happen to be married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  “And the fact that you can say that with a straight face so soon after I’ve given birth proves that you really do love me.”

  “With all my heart,” he promised and brushed his lips against hers again.

  Marissa’s heart sighed as she watched them.

  There had been a time when her brother was one of the most notorious playboys around and she didn’t think he would ever change. But from the moment he’d met up with Gabriella again, after almost sixteen years apart, everything had changed. Marissa had been surprised by his apparent transformation, and then she’d realized it wasn’t that Cameron had changed, but that he’d finally found the woman he loved.

  She wondered if she was foolish to hope that Dante would ever look at her with the same obvious love and devotion she saw in her brother’s eyes when he looked at his wife. She knew that Dante’s proposal was based on practical and political reasons. Emotion wasn’t a factor in the equation, at least not on his side. But she was optimistic that the attraction and affection between them would help them to build a strong and solid marriage. And she did believe that the holidays were a time of miracles, maybe even enough to hope that their Christmas wedding would truly lead to a happily-ever-after.

  Dante had already checked his phone, and while the record showed several missed calls from Marissa, there were no messages. And when he’d dialed her number, his call went directly to voice mail.

  Where the heck could she have gone that she would have turned off her phone?