Revelations of a Secret Princess

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Revelations of a Secret Princess Page 18

by Annie West


  He planted her hand on his chest where his heart danced to a rackety beat and looped his arm around her, drawing her close where she belonged.

  ‘Caro, I’m sorry. I’m better with numbers than emotions.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Jake. I’ve seen you with Ariane. I know how deeply you feel about her.’

  ‘Not just about Ariane.’ He revelled in the feel of her right here against him. With her hand on his chest she could feel his heart thundering out the truth. ‘Will you be mine, Caro, for ever? I need you.’ To his surprise, Jake discovered the admission, far from weakening him, made him feel stronger than he’d ever been.

  ‘But my father...’

  ‘Trust me to deal with your father.’ Jake would let nothing come between him and the woman he loved. ‘He’s going under, Caro. He won’t be in a position to threaten any longer.’

  ‘Of course I trust you.’ Her free hand slid to his shoulder, her grip firm and possessive. He loved it.

  ‘So you’ll marry me,’ he pressed. He wanted everything clear between them, despite the urgent need to taste and caress her.

  Her smile turned from misty to mischievous and he loved that too. ‘Do you always negotiate this hard?’

  ‘Only when our happiness is at stake. I won’t allow anyone to stand in the way of that, king or no king.’ What Jake felt for Caro, and what he saw shining in her expression, were too precious to abandon.

  Caro’s smile died and she rose on tiptoe, cradling his face in her palms. ‘I love you, Jake.’ The words filled him with awe and gratitude. ‘If you’re really sure...the answer is yes, because I don’t think I can live without you.’

  Jake drew his first easy breath in days. Caro was his. She loved him and they had all their lives to be together.

  With a groan of release he gave in and covered her lips with his. Caro was as eager as he, kissing him back with all the fervour, all the caring a man could want. Jake sank into her, losing himself and finding more, far more. Together they were magnificent, one entity forged of trust, respect and love. He’d never felt so strong, so blessed. Gratitude vied with desire.

  When, finally, they pulled apart enough to haul air into starved lungs, Jake looked down into a face made even more beautiful because of the gift they shared.

  ‘You make me the happiest man in the world, Caro.’ Maybe other lovers said it too. All Jake knew was that no one meant it more than he. ‘Let me make you just as happy.’

  EPILOGUE

  ‘THERE YOU ARE! I followed the giggles.’

  Caro spun around in the shallow end of the infinity pool overlooking the blue Pacific Ocean. There he was. Jake. Her lover, her man, her husband. Just back from meetings in the city, he’d shed his jacket and tie and was rolling up his sleeves as he crossed the flagstones.

  Their eyes met and, as ever, she felt that hard pump of blood as if their hearts realigned to beat in sync. He smiled the slow, sexy smile that undid her as easily as his deft hands undressed her each night.

  ‘Uncle Jake!’ Ariane squealed and splashed out of the pool to cling to his legs. ‘We waited and waited for you.’

  Jake lifted his niece onto his hip, regardless of her wetness. Ariane’s heart gave a great thump as she saw them together, the big man and the adoring little girl, bonded by a love so strong sometimes Caro had trouble believing this was real. Their family was better than any fantasy.

  ‘Sorry, sweetie. But I have to work sometimes.’

  Jake had reduced his hours, but their home on Sydney’s exclusive northern beaches allowed him to commute to the city occasionally. Very occasionally. Mainly he worked from home, or delegated.

  ‘Did you have a good day?’ He bent his head towards the little girl and Caro smiled as Ariane described her day in detail. The withdrawn child she’d met in Switzerland was gone. Now Ariane was confident, secure and adventurous, already making friends with other local children.

  Caro got out of the pool and went to fetch a towel, but Jake got in the way.

  ‘Haven’t you forgotten something important, Caro?’ Ebony eyebrows lifted over teasing eyes.

  ‘Well, if you don’t mind getting even more wet...’ She leaned close, kissing him soundly. When she pulled back he was grinning. His eyes held a promise that sent anticipation sizzling all the way to her toes.

  ‘You’re not listening, Uncle Jake. We have a surprise.’ Caro blinked at Ariane’s words. When Jake looked at her that way...

  ‘A surprise?’

  Her daughter nodded importantly. ‘A visitor.’

  Jake’s eyebrows rose and Caro clarified. ‘A visitor tomorrow.’

  Ariane nodded. ‘But I want to look for a book to share with him. Can I go now? Please?’

  Fifteen minutes later, leaving Ariane dry, dressed and sorting her picture books, Caro returned to the terrace with its ocean views. The view had never looked so good as now with Jake powering through the pool wearing only surf shorts.

  ‘A visitor?’ He waded to the edge of the pool and stood between her knees as she sat with her feet in the water. Jake pressed a luscious kiss to the base of her neck. Caro’s nipples pebbled and her thoughts frayed.

  ‘Mm hm.’ She tilted her head so he could nip his way up her neck to that spot below her ear that drove her insane. ‘Paul.’

  ‘Paul?’ His voice was a husky whisper.

  Caro planted her hands on Jake’s wet shoulders and leaned back. She couldn’t kiss and think. ‘King Paul of St Ancilla. We invited him, remember?’

  The last couple of months had been dramatic with her father bowing to pressure and abdicating in favour of his eldest son. There’d been some scandal but the full depths of the old man’s deceit and theft hadn’t been made public. The ex-King had quietly retired to a small estate on a distant island. The public didn’t know he’d been banished. Meanwhile Jake helped Caro’s brother work to restructure the royal debt with an ambitious plan of reinvestment and repayment. No one had the stomach for unseating a monarchy and destabilising a nation, so long as the man responsible was out of the equation.

  ‘You’re happy with that?’ Jake’s silvery eyes turned piercing.

  ‘I said so before, didn’t I? Paul could do with some time out, away from the court and the press.’ And his mother and fiancée, though she didn’t say that. Caro guessed neither of the women were particularly supportive but the way Paul had stepped up to his responsibilities, his honesty and genuine concern at their father’s wrongdoing, had impressed her.

  ‘The press will follow him here.’

  Caro shrugged. ‘I’ll cope. I’m used to it, remember. Besides, if we accept his invitation and spend part of each year in St Ancilla we’ll be in the spotlight even more.’ She cupped Jake’s harsh, handsome face in her palms. ‘Are you sure you want to take that on? Associating with royals. Going to balls and such?’

  ‘It’s your home and your heritage, Caro, and Ariane’s. I can cope if you can.’ The glint in Jake’s eyes grew wicked, turning her insides liquid. ‘I enjoyed my first royal ball enormously.’

  ‘It wasn’t the ball but what came after.’

  ‘I have a weakness for princesses.’

  Caro huffed in mock dismay. ‘Then you can’t go to royal events. Who knows what princesses and duchesses there will be, even queens?’

  Jake’s expression made her pulse stutter. ‘How could I notice them, Caro, when you’ve shown me what love is? You’re Queen of my heart.’

  That organ rolled over, beating frantically against her ribs. ‘Sometimes I think you’re too good to be true, Jake Maynard.’ Her words were husky with love.

  ‘I know you are, Caro. Which is why I intend to do everything I can to make you happy. Now come here and kiss me.’

  * * *

  If you fell in love with Revelations of a Secret Princess, you’re sure to adore these other stories by Annie West!
>
  The Greek’s Forbidden Innocent

  Wedding Night Reunion in Greece

  Sheikh’s Royal Baby Revelation

  Demanding His Desert Queen

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  The Return of Her Billionaire Husband

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  CHAPTER ONE

  THERE WAS A weird kind of irony in arriving as maid of honour for your best friend’s destination wedding with divorce papers in your hand luggage. But the one thing Juliette was determined not to do was spoil Lucy and Damon’s wedding day. Well, not just a wedding day but a wedding weekend. On Corfu.

  And her estranged husband was the best man.

  Juliette sucked in a prickly breath and tried not to think of the last time she’d stood at an altar next to Joe Allegranza. Tried not to think of the blink-and-you’d-miss-it ceremony in the English village church in front of a handful of witnesses with her pregnancy not quite hidden by her mother’s vintage wedding dress. The dress that scratched and itched the whole time she was wearing it. She tried not to think of the expression of disappointment on her parents’ faces that their only daughter was marrying a virtual stranger after she got pregnant on a one-night stand.

  Tried not to think of her baby—the baby girl who didn’t even get to take a single breath...

  Juliette stepped down out of the shuttle bus and walked into the foyer of the luxury private villa at Barbati Beach. The scarily efficient wedding planner, Celeste Petrakis, had organised for the wedding party to stay at the villa so the rehearsal and other activities planned would run as smoothly and seamlessly as possible. Juliette had thought about asking to stay at another hotel close by, as she didn’t fancy running into Joe more than was strictly necessary. Socialising politely with her soon-to-be ex-husband over breakfast, lunch and dinner wasn’t exactly in her skill set. But the thought of upsetting the drill sergeant wedding planner’s meticulous arrangements was as intimidating as a cadet saying they weren’t going to march in line on parade. Juliette had even at one point thought of declining the honour of being Lucy’s maid of honour, but that would have made everyone think she wasn’t over Joe.

  She most definitely was over him—hence the divorce papers.

  ‘Welcome.’ The smartly dressed female attendant greeted her with a smile bright enough for an orthodontist’s website homepage. ‘May I have your name, please?’

  ‘Bancroft...erm... I mean Allegranza.’ Juliette wished now she had got around to officially changing back to her maiden name. Why hadn’t she? She still didn’t understand why she’d taken Joe’s name in the first place. Their marriage hadn’t come about the normal way. No dating, no courtship, no professions of love. No romantic proposal. Just one night of bed-wrecking sex and then goodbye and thanks for the memories. They hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers. By the time she’d worked up the courage to track Joe down and tell him she was pregnant, he had insisted—not proposed, insisted—on marrying her soon after. They’d only lived together as man and wife for a total of three months. Three months of marriage and then it was over—just like her pregnancy.

  But once Joe signed the papers and the divorce was finalised she would be free of his name. Free to move on with her life, because being stuck in limbo sucked. How would she ever be able to get through the grieving process without drawing a thick black line through her time with Joe?

  She. Had. To. Move. On.

  The receptionist click-clacked on the computer keyboard. ‘Here it is. J Allegranza. And the J is for...?’

  ‘Juliette.’ She wondered if it would be pedantic to insist on being addressed by her maiden name while she was here but decided against saying anything. But why hadn’t Lucy told the wedding planner she and Joe were separated? Or were Lucy and Damon still hoping she and Joe would somehow miraculously get back together?

  Not flipping likely. They shouldn’t have been together in the first place.

  If her childhood sweetheart, Harvey, hadn’t taken it upon himself to dump her instead of proposing to her, like she’d been expecting, none of this would have happened. Rebound sex with a handsome stranger. Who would have thought she had it in her? She wasn’t the type of girl to talk to staggeringly gorgeous men in swanky London bars. She wasn’t a one-night stand girl. But that night she had turned into someone else. Joe’s touch had turned her into someone else.

  Note to self. Do not think about Joe’s touch. Do. Not. Go. There.

  There was not going to be a fairy tale ending to their short-lived relationship. How could there be when the only reason for their marriage was now gone?

  Dead. Buried. Lying, sleeping for ever, in a tiny white coffin in a graveyard in England.

  ‘Your suite is ready for you now,’ the receptionist said. ‘Spiros will bring your luggage in from the shuttle.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  The receptionist handed her a swipe key and directed her to the lifts across the hectare of marble floor. ‘Your suite is on the third floor. Celeste, the wedding planner, will meet with the bridal party for drinks on the terrace, to go through the rehearsal and wedding timetable, promptly at six this evening.’

  ‘Got it.’ Juliette gave a polite movement of her lips, which was about as close to a smile as she got to these days. She took the key, hitched her tote bag over her shoulder and made her way over to the lifts. The divorce papers were poking out of the top of her bag, a reminder of her two-birds-one-stone mission. In seven days, this chapter of her life would finally be over.

  And she would never have to think about Joe Allegranza again.

  * * *

  There was only one thing Joe Allegranza hated more than weddings and that was funerals. Oh, and birthdays—his, in particular. But he could hardly turn down being his mate’s best man, even if it meant coming face to face with his estranged wife, Juliette.

  His wife...

  Hard to believe how those two words still had the power to gouge a hole in his chest—a raw gaping hole that nothing could fill. He couldn’t think of her without feeling he had failed in every way possible. How had he let his life spin out of control so badly? He, who had written the handbook on control.

  Mostly, he could block her from his mind. Mostly. He binged on work like some people did on alcohol or food. He had built his global engineering career on his ability to fix structural failures. To forensically analyse broken bridges and buildings, and yet he was unable to do anything to repair his broken marriage. Fifteen months of separation and he hadn’t moved forward with his life. Couldn’t move on with his life. It was as if an invisible wall had sprung up in front of him, keeping him cordoned off, blocked, imprisoned.

  He glanced at the wedding ring still on his finger. He could easily have taken it off and locked it in the safe, along with Juliette’s rings that she had left behind.

  But he hadn’t.

  He wasn’t entirely sure why. Divorce was something he rigorously avoided thinking about. Reconciliation was equally as daunting. He was stuck in no man’s land.

  Joe walked into the reception area of the luxury villa where the wedding party were staying and was greeted by a smiling attendant. ‘Welcome. May I have your name, please?’

  ‘Joe Allegranza.’ He removed his sunglasses and slipped them into his breast pocket. ‘The wedding planner made the booking.’

  The reception attendant peered a little closer at the screen, scrolling through the bookings with her computer mouse. ‘Ah, yes, I see it now. I m
issed it because I thought the booking was only for one person.’ She flashed him a smile so bright he wished he hadn’t taken his sunglasses off. ‘Your wife has already checked in. She arrived an hour ago.’

  His wife. A weight pressed down on Joe’s chest and his next breath was razor-edged. His failure could just as easily be substituted for those words. Hadn’t the wedding planner got the memo about his and Juliette’s separation?

  The thought slipped through a crack in his mind like a fissure in bedrock, threatening to destabilise his determination to keep his distance.

  A weekend sharing a suite with his estranged wife.

  For a second or two he considered pointing out the booking error but he let his mind wander first... He could see Juliette again. In private. In person. He would be able to talk to her face to face instead of having her refuse to answer his calls or delete or block his texts or emails. She hadn’t responded to a single missive. Not one. The last time he’d called her to tell her about the fundraising he’d organised for a stillbirth foundation on their behalf, the service provider informed him the number was no longer connected. Meaning Juliette was no longer connected to him.

  His conscience woke up and prodded him with a jabbing finger.

  What the hell are you thinking? Haven’t you done enough damage?

  It was crazy enough coming here for the wedding, much less spend time with Juliette—especially alone. He had ruined her life, just like he had done to his mother. Was there a curse on him when it came to his relationships? A curse that had been placed on him the day he was born. The same day his mother had died. His birthday: his mother’s death day.

  If that wasn’t a curse, then what the freaking hell was?

  Joe cleared his throat. ‘There must be some mistake. My...er...wife and I are no longer together. We’re...separated.’ He hated saying the ugly word. Hated admitting his failure. Hated knowing it was largely his fault his wife had walked out on their marriage.

 

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