Winter Wedding for the Prince

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Winter Wedding for the Prince Page 5

by Barbara Wallace


  “I—Are you sure you want me there?” The dinner was a private affair for family and dignitaries the night before the ceremony.

  “Of course I do,” Arianna replied. “You’re family, aren’t you?”

  “Technically, no.”

  “Close enough. You’re an important part of Armando’s life, and therefore you’re important to all of us.”

  “How can I say no after that?” Rosa replied, surprised to feel a lump in her throat. It had been a long time since someone had said she was anything other than a stupid waste of time. And while the idea of spending an evening watching Armando and Mona get acquainted left a sour taste in her mouth, the princess was smiling such a sweet, sincere smile, Rosa didn’t have the heart to decline.

  Besides, she would have to face Armando—and Mona—eventually. Maybe seeing them together would kill the weird feelings she was having.

  Meanwhile, Arianna’s smile grew broader upon Rosa’s acceptance. “I’m so glad. Max’s best friend from New York is coming, too, and I can’t wait for the two of you to meet. Not for romantic reasons,” she added when Rosa started to say something. “I just think he needs a dinner partner who will keep him on his toes.”

  “Oh. Thank you, I guess.” She couldn’t imagine keeping anyone other than Armando on his toes, but if Arianna thought so, she would try.

  “It’s a compliment, I assure you.” Perching on the edge of Rosa’s desk, Arianna turned the newspaper around. “Future princess, huh? Wonder where they came up with that idea?”

  “I read the article. It’s mostly speculation.”

  Arianna arched her brow. “I’m going to blame your naïveté on not having enough coffee. Armando hasn’t dated since Christina passed away, and out of the blue the press start speculating on the exact woman he plans to marry? Impossible. Someone whispered in a reporter’s ear. The only question is who is doing the whispering—Armando or King Omar. My guess is on Armando.”

  Rosa didn’t understand. Princess Arianna’s explanation about a leak made perfect sense, but she would think King Omar the more likely source, not her brother. “Why would His Highness leak information about his private life?”

  “Because I know how my big brother’s mind works. I’m starting to show. It’s obvious to anyone who can add that I’ve been pregnant longer than I’ve known Max.” A soft smile curled her lips as her hand patted her abdomen. She glanced back at the photograph. “This is Armando’s way of diverting attention away from my growing bump.”

  Made sense. After all, he’d arranged a marriage to prevent scandal. Why not arrange for a little well-timed tabloid gossip, too? “He’s trying to be a good king,” she said.

  “That’s Armando. Corinthia and family first.”

  Responsible for every light in every window. “He takes fulfilling his duty very seriously,” she replied.

  “Always has,” Arianna said. “Although he’s gotten worse the last couple years. Sometimes I think he’s decided that if he can’t be happy anymore, he’ll make sure everyone else in Corinthia is.”

  Rosa’s heart twisted at the thought. She didn’t know what bothered her more, Armando falling for his wife or him going through the motions for the rest of his life.

  “Speaking of my brother, what do you think?”

  It took a moment for Rosa to realize the princess was talking about Mona herself. Took a lot of discipline, but she managed to swallow the sour taste in her mouth before replying. “I wouldn’t know, Your Highness.”

  “Please,” the princess replied. She added an eye roll for good measure. “Don’t go into acting, Rosa. You’re terrible.”

  “But I really wouldn’t know,” Rosa replied honestly. “I haven’t met her. She’s very beautiful, though. And her father certainly speaks highly of her.”

  “Fathers usually do,” Arianna replied. “According to mine, I am the purest creature to ever walk the earth.” Her grin was nothing short of cheeky as she pointed to her midsection. “I think I’ll wait until I’ve met the woman to see if she lives up to her advance praise. Armando says she’s attending the concert tonight?”

  “Yes. She is supposed to arrive late this afternoon.” Rosa had been trying to figure out an excuse to avoid her arrival all week.

  “You don’t look happy about the idea.”

  “Excuse me?” So much for keeping her thoughts private. She really was a terrible actress.

  “No worries,” Arianna replied. “I understand. This is a concert for your sister, and here’s Armando infringing upon her memory by introducing his future wife.”

  “No, that’s not the reason.” Everyone was so quick to blame her loyalty to Christina. Armando thought the same thing regarding the shelter party. The simple, shameful truth, however, had nothing to do with Christina.

  “What is the reason then?”

  Rosa opened, then shut her mouth. What did she say? She couldn’t very well tell Armando’s sister the truth—that she was dreading a night of simultaneous jealousy and embarrassment.

  Fortunately the telephone saved her. When she heard the voice on the other end, her eyes widened.

  “That was King Omar’s secretary,” she said when she hung up. “Apparently his daughter hasn’t completely recovered from the flu and is feeling too ill to fly.”

  “Meaning she’s not coming tonight?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Rosa’s stomach took a happy little bounce at the news, even though she knew it shouldn’t.

  From Arianna’s expression, she didn’t do a good job of hiding her reaction, either. “Armando will be disappointed,” she noted.

  Immediately Rosa was ashamed of herself. “Yes,” she said, “I imagine he will be.” He no doubt meant for this appearance to be Mona’s introduction to the Corinthian people.

  “Where is my dear brother, anyway?” Arianna asked. “I came by because I wanted to talk to him about a rumored cut to the arts endowment budget.”

  “According to the note he left on my desk, he is at the swimming pool doing laps.”

  “Really? Max is swimming laps right now as well.” With surprising spryness for a pregnant woman, the princess hopped off the desk. “I was planning to go visit him after I spoke to Armando. Why don’t the two of us go together and you can tell Armando about Mona’s cancellation?”

  See Armando. At the pool. That happy little bounce turned into a shiver as she pictured a muscular and wet Armando emerging from the water like a men’s fragrance advertisement come to life. “I thought I would send him a text...” she started.

  “Don’t be silly. I don’t feel like waiting for him to check his messages before talking to him about it. Come down with me, and we will tell him in person.”

  This was the downside of working for royalty. It was impossible to refuse when they decided a plan of action. Suppressing a sigh, Rosa pushed to her feet. “After you, Your Highness.”

  Maybe she’d get lucky, and Armando would stay in the water while they talked.

  * * *

  The pool was an Olympic-size addition built in what had been an unused greenhouse on the edge of the palace gardens in the mid–twentieth century. When his children were younger, King Carlos had the aging facility refurbished, transforming what had been a bland indoor pool into a paradise filled with flowers and soothing flowing water. The bamboo and hibiscus served as more than decoration—they created a foliage privacy wall so that the royal family could relax in peace. For as long as Rosa had known Armando, the room had been one of his favorite places. Since moving into the palace, Max, had taken to visiting the pool as well.

  A block of hot humid air hit Rosa when she opened the door to the building. It’d been a while since she’d visited Armando in his sanctuary, and so she had forgotten how much of a contrast there was between here and the garden path that connected the two buildings,
especially during the winter. She could feel her shirt starting to stick against her skin in the dampness, destroying every bit of flowing camouflage. Wasn’t worth pulling the garment free, either, since it would only cling right back.

  A shout called her attention toward the pool where Armando and Max were splashing their way from one end to the other.

  “Looks like they are racing,” Rosa remarked.

  “Of course they are. They’re men,” Princess Arianna replied. She did peel her shirt away from her skin. “This is the first time I’ve ever watched Max swim. I didn’t know he was such a good swimmer.”

  He was definitely the faster of the two—his pale body was a good length ahead—but Armando had better style. His bronze shoulders rose up and down in the water, like a well-tuned piston. Rosa envied how he could be graceful both on land and in the water.

  Unsurprisingly, Max reached the wall first. When he realized Arianna and Rosa were standing there, he pulled himself out of the water.

  “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise?” he said, leaning forward to give Arianna a kiss. From the way he twisted his body, he was doing everything he could not to let his wet body come in contact with hers.

  Rosa couldn’t help but look him up and down. The man was definitely as well built as his movie-star looks implied. Princess Arianna was a lucky woman.

  Armando’s voice sounded behind her. “Next time, we do more. We’ll see if you’re so fast when you have to make a turn, eh? Can someone hand me a towel?”

  Someone being her, of course. Rosa should have known he wouldn’t stay in the water. There was a large white one draped over the back of a nearby chair. Steeling herself for what she was about to see, Rosa grabbed it and turned around.

  Oh, my.

  Forget fragrance ad come to life. Try sea god.

  Anyone who met the man could tell Armando was well built simply from the way his clothes draped his body. What the clothes didn’t show was how virile he was. He made Max Brown look like a young boy. Awareness spread from her core as she took in the muscular, wet body, its contours glistening under the lights. Droplets clung to his chest hair, like tiny crystal ornaments. Wordlessly, she watched as he wiped them away with the towel, her breath catching a little on each stroke across his skin.

  If she couldn’t stop thinking about a peck on the lips...

  “Rosa?”

  She jerked her attention back to his face to find him looking at her with unusual intensity. “Is everything all right?” he asked. “You looked flushed.”

  Because you’re beautiful. “It’s the heat,” she replied. “It’s like a sauna in here.”

  “Well, the room was designed for people in bathing suits.” He wrapped the towel around his waist, and Rosa let out a breath. Never did she think wearing a towel would be modest. “I said I was surprised to see you. You’ve been avoiding me.”

  He’d noticed? Of course he had. She hadn’t exactly been subtle about staying away. “No, I haven’t,” she lied anyway. “There is a lot going on, is all. I have been very busy coordinating the various year-end events.”

  “Right. Coordinating. I understand,” he said in a voice that said he didn’t believe her in the slightest. “Why are you here now, then? Did something happen?”

  His eyes had not just dropped to her lips and back. He was a man about to marry an amazing beauty. The last thing he would waste time on was their mistletoe kiss, unless he was remembering her foolish bolt through the kitchen door.

  “I—” Rosa began. This would have been so much easier if Arianna had let her send a text. Thanks to his half-dressed state, the moment felt far more intimate than it was. What was more, the princess wasn’t even talking to Armando. She and Max had taken themselves to one of the many lounge chairs, leaving her and Armando alone.

  “King Omar’s office called. Mona is still feeling ill and won’t be able to attend the concert tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  That was an...odd reaction. Detached and almost relieved sounding. Surely that couldn’t be the case. “I thought I should let you know as soon as possible in case this affects your plans for the evening.”

  “You could have texted.”

  “Arianna wanted me to tell you in person.”

  “Oh.” That answer did come with a reaction. A conspiratorial smile that said he understood exactly what had happened. They usually shared dozens of such smiles during the course of a normal week. Seeing this one made her feel all melty inside. She’d missed his company, dammit.

  “Anyway...” She cleared her throat. “If you would like to cancel...”

  “Cancel? Why on earth would I cancel?”

  “I only thought that with Mona not attending...” Seeing his frown, she left her answer hanging. “Never mind.”

  “Never mind is right. I can’t believe you even suggested I wouldn’t attend.” He headed toward a bench by one of the bamboo trees where a robe and additional towels lay. As he brushed past her, his bare shoulder made contact with hers, and Rosa’s insides turned to jitters at the feeling of dampness through her blouse. It was as close to skin against skin as she’d felt in a long time.

  “You’re right,” she replied, rubbing the goose bumps from her arms. “I don’t know what I was thinking. This morning’s newspaper article speculating on your marriage must have skewed my reasoning.”

  He was flipping a towel around his neck when she asked. Gripping both ends, he cocked his head. “What does that mean?”

  “It means, I know it was to be an important public appearance for the two of you.” The first step in establishing the seriousness of their relationship.”

  An odd look crossed his features. “Right. I forgot about the gossip column. It would have been nice to have Mona make an appearance, but seeing as how the marriage is all but a fait accompli, it’s not completely necessary.

  “Besides,” he added as he reached for his robe, “it’s not as if the people aren’t used to seeing me attend events alone.

  “You’re still attending, right?” he asked, shrugging into the robe.

  “Of course. It’s my sister’s memorial concert. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Not even Mona’s presence would have stopped her. “I can’t believe you asked.”

  “What are you talking about? You asked me the same question two minutes ago. And, considering I haven’t seen you all week, I didn’t want to assume.”

  There was a bite to his comment that took her aback. She thought they had addressed this. “I told you, I have had a lot to take care of this week.”

  “Coordinating. So you said.” He tugged on his terry-cloth belt before looking her in the eye. Rosa tried not to squirm, but the intensity of his stare was too unnerving. He was trying to see inside her again. “Look, I know why you have been avoiding me,” he said.

  “You do?” Heaven help her, could they go back to talking about Mona? Please? Not only was her embarrassing reaction to their mistletoe kiss the last thing she wanted to talk about, this was the last place where she wanted to not talk about it—in a steamy pool house with him wearing nothing but a bathrobe.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  “You do?” she repeated. For what?

  “It was...rude...of me to confront you the way I did. Regarding Fredo. I put you on the spot, and I shouldn’t have.”

  “I see.” She had forgotten their argument about Fredo, her mind focused on their kiss. Apparently, circumstances were the other way around for Armando. He wasn’t thinking about the kiss at all. Which was a good thing, right? Meant she didn’t have to avoid him anymore.

  There was no reason for her insides to feel deflated. “Th-thank you,” she replied. “I appreciate that.”

  On the other side of the pool, Arianna and Max lay side by side in one of the lounge chairs. Max had slipped on h
is bathrobe, and the two of them looked to be in deep conversation. Whatever problem Arianna had with the budget seemed to have taken a backseat to her fiancé. They looked so happy and engrossed with each other. Maybe it was talking about Fredo, but looking at them left Rosa aching with envy. What she wouldn’t give for a man who listened to what she had to say with interest instead of patronizing her or putting her down. Someone who respected her and didn’t continually remind her of her many, many flaws. You’re fat. You sound like an idiot.

  A girl could dream, couldn’t she? Even if the odds of a woman like her finding someone like Max Brown were slim to none. Heck, the only person she knew who fit her bill was... Max.

  She turned back in time to discover Armando was studying her again. Only this time, instead of feeling like he was looking inside her, she broke out in a tingling, achy sensation that cut through her stomach to deep below her waist.

  “Get dressed,” she said abruptly. “I mean, you need to get dressed and I...I should get back to the office. I’ll see you when you return.”

  Spinning on her toe of her shoe, she turned and headed toward the pool house door. Arianna was right about her acting skills. At least this time, her excuse sounded better than having to double-check gelato quantities.

  “Rosa, wait.”

  * * *

  Armando chuckled when Rosa turned around. She looked like an animal trapped in the headlights of an automobile. Wide-eyed and hesitant. And damn if he didn’t find it appealing.

  “Are you bringing a guest to the concert?” he asked.

  He could tell she didn’t know what to make of his question. “You mean, do I have a date?”

  “Exactly. I was curious if, after our conversation the other day, you weren’t inspired to...improve...your social life.”

  Was that a blush creeping into her cheeks or simply a flush from the warm air? “You’re curious about a lot of things lately.”

  About her, he was. It disturbed him to realize he didn’t know her as well as he thought. Like the proverbial onion, there were layers he’d yet to peel back, and dammit if he didn’t want to see what lay beneath. “Are you?” he asked.

 

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