Second Chance with the Best Man

by Katrina Cudmore

  IT WAS A tricky manoeuvre, getting the full skirt of her wedding gown down the narrow steps of the farmhouse while carrying a heavy train. Hannah knew she could call for help but preferred to let her family and Lara chat and lark about in the kitchen instead.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she paused to gather her breath and smiled at the consternation coming from the kitchen. Her mum and dad were arguing over how he should correctly knot his bow tie, Cora was pleading with her husband to stop Diana, who was now an adventurous fifteen-month-old, from crawling along the floor and Lara was cooing to her three-month-old daughter, Ruth.

  Laurent had been right after all when he’d insisted that their wedding blessing take place on her parents’ farm. At first Hannah had said no, that the château was a more suitable venue. Not only because of its size and facilities but also because it was the place where day by day they were becoming ever closer, where laughter rang out during their long weekend lunches with family and friends, where Hannah got to study Laurent and wonder at the security, the grounding, the absolute peace his love brought to her.

  Now, though, she could see that the farm was the perfect place for them to marry. This house, so full of warmth and love, had been integral in nursing the terrified child she once had been.

  They had officially married earlier in the week at a low-key but deeply intimate civil ceremony in Cognac Town Hall before making the journey to England.

  She listened to all the voices in the kitchen, all the people she loved so dearly, tears filling her eyes at the knowledge that their marriage was soon going to be blessed in their presence.

  She was excited, nervous and ever so slightly dazed.

  But most of all she was grateful. Grateful that both she and Laurent had been able to deal with their pasts and focus on the future. Grateful that they had found one another. Grateful that they were surrounded by so much love and positivity and hope. She was grateful for Laurent’s love, his daily kindness and unwavering support as she established her celebrant business, his loyalty, his determination to create and maintain a strong and honest marriage.

  Hannah smiled when Lara opened the kitchen door. Ruth, wearing a lilac dress in the same shade as her mum’s, was asleep in her arms. Lara along with Emily and Cora were her bridesmaids today, Diana her flower girl.

  Lara gave a gasp. ‘Oh, Hannah, I’m going to cry. You look so beautiful.’

  A rush from the kitchen ensued and Hannah giggled at all the excited exclamations.

  Coming towards her, tears in his eyes, her father passed her bouquet of irises to her. The flowers of hope.

  And then they were all on the way out through the front walled garden, passing by the meadow with views out to the green valley beyond, and around to the terraced garden to the side of the house, her mum’s pride and joy, the borders surrounding the cricket-pitch-worthy lawn abundant with clematises, pastel tea roses, lilies and alliums.

  Her heart kicked hard when she saw Laurent standing in front of the seated guests.

  Gripping her dad’s arm even tighter, she walked towards him, her heart brimming with love and hope.

  When Cora and Diana reached him, Laurent scooped Diana up and pecked her affectionately on the cheek. Diana’s giggles ran across the entire terrace and the guests laughed in response and suddenly the suspenseful tension of the day was gone.

  And when Lara arrived at the top of the aisle, Laurent gently touched his hand against one of Ruth’s tiny lilac socks and smiled in delight and pride at his niece.

  And then it was her turn.

  His brilliant blue gaze enveloped her.

  She moved towards him, the momentous significance of declaring their love publicly causing a tear to float down her cheek.

  Laurent hugged her father.

  And then he was smiling down at her, his eyes reflecting her own nervousness and amazement, and then he pulled her into him.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered against her ear.

  She pulled back a fraction. Gave a little hiccup. ‘It’s my hormones.’

  Laurent frowned and then his mouth dropped open. ‘Are you...?’

  Nodding, she whispered against his ear, her heart kicking at the security, the sense of peace that she found standing so close to him. ‘Pregnant. Yes.’

  His eyes dancing with wonder, he captured her face between his hands, was about to kiss her until Jamie, their wedding celebrant and a friend of Hannah’s, cleared his throat loudly and said cheerfully, ‘That’s for later, folks.’

  They grinned at one another and turned towards Jamie, Laurent lacing his fingers through hers.

  Hannah turned for a moment to her family. She smiled at her dad and then looked at her mum, who gave her a knowing smile and nod that said that now Hannah was living life as it should be—trusting and hoping and loving and being honest with yourself.

  She turned back to Laurent.

  He dipped his head and said softly, ‘I will treasure you, our baby, and every day of our marriage.’

  * * *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Katrina Cudmore

  Resisting the Italian Single Dad

  Christmas with Her Duke

  Tempted by Her Greek Tycoon

  Their Baby Surprise

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from The Prince’s Forbidden Bride by Rebecca Winters.

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  The Prince’s Forbidden Bride

  by Rebecca Winters

  PROLOGUE

  A TRUMPET SOUNDED, followed by the voice of the announcer.

  “This year’s winner in the sixteen-year-olds’ jumping and dressage, in the junior division of the Emerian concorso, is Princess Donetta Rossiano of the country of Domodossola. Congratulations to this unparalleled equestrian and her horse, Blaze!”

  Everyone in the crowd clapped with enthusiasm.

  “She has been the reigning international champion in these events since her first appearance at the Windsor concorso, when she was ten years old and accompanied by her father, King Victor of Domodossola. Today she’s accompanied by her trainer, her father’s cousin, Prince Lorenzo, a world-famous equestrian in his own right.”

  There was more clapping.

  “And now Her Royal Highness, Queen Anne of Emeria, will present the winner’s cup.”

  Donetta was overjoyed to have won, but she was even more excited to receive her prize from the queen
. The elegant young monarch was so lucky to be born in a country where she could be queen.

  Being the eldest of three daughters, Donetta had always dreamed of being queen of Domodossola one day. Somehow she would make it happen. Even if the law didn’t allow women to rule, she was determined to find a way to get it changed.

  Prince Lorenzo stood next to her. “You deserved to win the overall championship because you’re the best! I knew you would do it. Too bad your family couldn’t be here. They would be very proud.”

  “Thanks, Lorenzo, but I’m glad you’re here. You’re the expert who taught me how to ride. You deserve a prize, too.” Lorenzo had won many awards in concorsos throughout his youth.

  Donetta was secretly thrilled he’d come. Lorenzo, who also served as her chaperone on these trips, always gave her the freedom to have fun at the different concorsos without following her around, something she needed badly today.

  “If Princess Donetta will please come forward to the dais.”

  “Go claim your well-deserved prize,” Lorenzo whispered.

  A round of applause accompanied her walk to the table, where pictures were taken of her with the queen. When Queen Anne handed Donetta the cup, she whispered, “You’re the most outstanding female rider I’ve ever seen, Princess Donetta. I expect to hear of more exciting victories on that remarkable horse.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty. This is a great privilege for me.”

  Donetta could only imagine doing this same thing for a young rider one day when she was queen.

  She carried the engraved silver cup back to her spot in line with Lorenzo, treasuring the moment.

  Another trumpet sounded, followed by the next announcement.

  “This year’s male winner in the sixteen-year-old division is a name we’ve been applauding since he first rode his horse at the Windsor concorso at the age of ten. Prince Enrico of the country of Vallefiore, riding his horse, Rajah! If you’ll come forward to the dais, Queen Anne will present your international winner’s cup.”

  * * *

  The prince stood next to his first cousin Prince Giovanni. Giovanni had lost his parents in a plane crash, and after introducing him to Donetta, Enrico explained that his parents had taken over raising Giovanni. He lived at the palace with Enrico and his family. The two were like brothers and did everything together. Donetta had liked Giovanni immediately.

  As her gaze riveted on Enrico, he flashed her a glance that said he was equally excited to see her and be with her again. They had plans when this was over. If her fifteen-year-old sister Fausta were here, she would say he was so dreamy he looked like a movie star.

  He was more than dreamy.

  Six years ago the prince had caught Donetta’s ten-year-old eye when she’d first watched him perform at Windsor in his division. Even at the age of ten, he’d been a little taller and stronger than the other male contestants of his age. With his olive skin and dark hair, he’d definitely been the best looking.

  Back then she’d noticed everything about him, from his penetrating black-fringed eyes to his outstanding performance on his splendid black horse, Malik. She’d envied the way the two were so tuned in to each other; it was as if they were one.

  To Donetta’s surprise, Enrico had sought her out after the prizes had been awarded. He’d complimented her on the way she rode and she’d returned the praise. From then on, whenever they saw each other at the dozen concorsos held every year in various countries, they would try to spend time together. No one else existed for them. They would discuss the finer points of each other’s performances and talk about their lives.

  Because of Enrico’s striking looks and intelligence, Donetta never noticed the other male contestants. Whenever she learned he was on the list of competitors for his age group, her eyes always sought his and he’d find her once the competition was over.

  They’d walk off away from the others. Often they hid out on the grounds to talk and laugh. From that first concorso, she lived for each meeting.

  Today, as Donetta watched him accept his silver cup, she realized he was becoming a man, one whose looks and charisma had a visceral effect on her.

  Donetta examined her heart and realized she had an infatuation for Enrico that wasn’t about to go away.

  Now that his presentation was over, the groups disbanded and she handed her silver cup to Lorenzo, who would be staying to talk to the officials.

  He smiled at her. “I’ll see you at the entrance in an hour?”

  “That’s perfect. Thank you!”

  In a quiet voice he said, “I know why you’ve always been so excited to ride in every concorso possible, and I’ve kept a blind eye. Have fun, but be careful and remember—you’ve been promised to Prince Arnaud. Need I remind you that the Rossianos and the Montedoros have been in a feud over trade rights for two hundred years. If your parents ever find out about you and Prince Enrico...”

  “Don’t worry. I’m always careful and I know you won’t tell.” None of his warnings bothered her a bit. She was excited to be with Enrico. They loved being together whenever they could, especially knowing it was forbidden by their two families.

  Now was her chance to get away and be alone with him. She started walking her horse toward the stable, knowing he would catch up.

  “Donetta?”

  She trembled as that seductive voice did unexpected things to her, but she didn’t want people to know she was waiting for him. It was always better if he was the one who approached her. Her legs felt less substantial as she turned to him.

  “Enrico!” She was so excited to see him she could hardly stand it.

  “Congratulations! You gave a superb performance!”

  “I wanted to tell you the same thing, but we can’t talk here. How about we both mount our horses and take a ride away from the track?”

  Donetta wanted to be with him all day. Right now she was too eager to spend time with him to worry about an ancient feud, or her parents’ plan that she marry Arnaud one day. Enrico’s parents had promised him to Princess Valentina of Vallefiore one day, but like Donetta, he didn’t give it any thought.

  They walked to the stable. She found her horse’s stall, where her groomsman had brought Blaze after her last event. “I’ll meet you here after you’ve retrieved Rajah. We’ll have to ride bareback.”

  A smile broke out on his handsome face. “Do me one favor? Don’t wear your helmet.” His eyes played over her features, sending a thrill of excitement through her body.

  She chuckled. “Why?”

  “Because for once I’d like to see your hair completely uncovered.” On that unexpected note he strode away from her on his long, powerful legs. No guy could look better in riding breeches than he did. At six-two, he was becoming a man.

  His comment had caused her to tremble. She removed her Devon riding jacket and helmet. After shaking her head to loosen her hair, she walked over to Blaze and offered him a treat and gave him a hug.

  “You were brilliant today. I love you. How would you like to take me for a ride without the saddle? We’re going on a walk with Rajah.”

  She removed the trappings and her devoted horse nudged her. “Ah...that feels good, doesn’t it?”

  Donetta reached for the reins and mounted him. No more competition today. No more rules. Just pure fun with the most gorgeous guy she’d ever known. For him to have asked her to go riding with him on this special day made her happier than she’d ever been in her life.

  As they backed out, she saw Enrico without his helmet, coming on his stallion. Normally they didn’t allow stallions to enter the competitions, but it seemed they’d made an exception for the prince in this competition. He had total control over his animal.

  Enrico, too, had shed his jacket and had loosened his white show shirt at the throat. When they walked out into the sun, the rays glistened on his luxuriant black hair.

&
nbsp; * * *

  Donetta’s willingness to ride bareback was one of the reasons Enrico found it so exhilarating to be with the princess. Her spirit of adventure made her different from all the other princesses his family forced him to spend time with.

  None of them could ride the way she did or be more entertaining. As his best friend and first cousin Prince Giovanni had been saying since they’d been coming to the concorsos together, Princess Donetta was poetry in motion, on or off her mare.

  Her five-foot-seven-inch height gave her a regal elegance that had nothing to do with her title. In her navy-and-beige riding kit she looked spectacular, especially with her silvery gold hair cascading down her shoulders and back, shining like one of the waterfalls secreted in the mountains of Vallefiore.

  She’d been very pretty, but now with those shimmering light green eyes that reminded him of the South Seas he’d seen in his travels, she’d turned into a raving beauty. Whenever he saw her in a crowd—always surrounded by more males than females—he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “You rode a new horse today, Enrico. Why did you name him Rajah?”

  Her question brought him back to the present. “To befit his kingly Arabian ancestry. His breed runs wild on the plains in my country and his instincts are phenomenal.”

  “I’d love to see a sight like that. He’s absolutely gorgeous. With him you’ll continue to win every competition from now on.”

  “I’m sure you will, too. No other rider comes close to you.”

  She beamed as he led them on a path away from the track to the park in the distance. When they reached the trees, they dismounted. “I brought a picnic for us.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  Enrico pulled a blanket out of his saddlebag and spread it on the ground. Then he produced several sacks of sandwiches, fruit and drinks.

  “This is fabulous, Enrico.” She sat down with him to eat.

  “Much as I want to spend the entire weekend with you, that isn’t possible. I’d give anything if we were eighteen. Then I’d be able to take you to an early dinner and dancing in some trendy café. But we’re not old enough to go out to a place like that yet.”