A Royal Holiday (Royals of Valleria #5) (11 page)

Marcello’s hand tightened around his phone for a moment before he shoved it in his pocket. “I wasn’t planning on giving it to you yet. I know you’re not ready. I wasn’t going to push you. I–.”

She put a finger over his lips. “Shhh. I know you wouldn’t push me for anything until I was ready. The thing is, I think I am ready now.”

He sucked in a breath and gripped her slim hips. “You ‘think’ you’re ready?”

She stepped into him, against him. “I
know
I’m ready. I’m ready to love you for the rest of my life. I’m ready for you to protect me and honor me, as I’ll do for you, all the days of our life.”

“Grace,” he whispered, his breath uneven. “Fair Grace.”

“I never thought I’d find someone like you. Someone who loved me and all my scars, and found me beautiful.”

“You are beautiful. You’re the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing woman, and I love you so much.”

Tears welled in her eyes. Unlike years past, these weren’t tears of abuse or sorrow; they were tears of happiness, of love, and of the future. “Propose to me, Marcello. Please, let’s begin our life together.”

“We began our life together the first moment I saw you, fair Grace, with a storm raging outside and you dressed in a soft robe, your long, lovely hair in a braid.”

He didn’t get down on one knee. He simply took the box from her with one hand and cupped her face with the other. Keeping her gaze locked with his, he spoke softly in the dim, blue chill of the night.

“Will you marry me, fair Grace?”

“Yes. Oh, yes, Marcello, yes.” She started crying in earnest and felt the cold touch of the ring on her finger.

She looked down and gasped at the vintage Art Deco platinum ring. A large, old European cut diamond sat in a square setting in the middle, and was surrounded by three smaller diamonds on each side. “It’s lovely.”

“Not as lovely as you.”

Grace looked up to find his own eyes heavy with tears. “Marcello.”

“If you don’t like it, we can exchange it.”

“I love it. There’s no need to change it for anything.”

“I was worried.”

“About asking me?”

“That and, well, if you’d even want a ring this time around.”

Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and the ring caught in a sliver of moonlight. “The rings I wore before, they didn’t mean anything. They did when I first put them on but, after a while, they were like chains. They became symbols of the prison I was in, not of the love I thought I had when I married.”

She tilted her hand, so the ring would catch the light again. “This ring, it means so much more than anything before.” She kissed him long and deep, full of promise and new beginnings. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but they would face it with love, together.

“Grace, I wasn’t expecting this tonight.”

She smiled. “You weren’t expecting me to demand you propose to me?”

He chuckled. “No, definitely not. You could have proposed to me, you know.”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m just a little too old fashioned for that.”

“Come on,” he said as he took her hand and began walking them towards the door. “We’d better tell my parents.”

She tugged his hand to stop. “Oh, couldn’t it wait until morning? If we tell them now, they’ll want to announce it at the ball. I wouldn’t want to overshadow Alex and Rebecca.”

Marcello considered for a few moments. “Alex and Rebecca had their moment earlier, at the start of the ball, but I understand. I do want to tell my parents, though, but we’ll ask them to come out here, all right? No one but us will know for now.”

After a moment, she kissed away a stray tear on his face. “Oh, to hell with it. Let’s tell them. Let’s tell them all.”

***

“Don’t you agree, Your Highness?” Philip, Cat’s date asked.

Since Cat had not paid any attention to what he’d just said, she simply said, “Is that how you feel?”

“Oh, of course,” he said as he brushed a manicured hand over his carefully coiffed hair. “I think it would be best for us to get on first name terms. After all, if we are to continue seeing each other, it would be more appropriate.”

Cat sighed and took another sip of her cranberry martini. How many had she drunk at this point? “We’ll see. After all, this is supposed to be just a first date.”

“Most people are on a first name basis, even on their first date.”

“Not if you’re a princess,” she said with a tight smile. Of all her harebrained schemes, this had to take the cake. Perhaps he wasn’t the best choice in a fake boyfriend, but who else could she ask?

“Then let us arrange our next date, so we can speed things up a little.”

Oh, dear. She stood abruptly, causing him to scramble from his seat as well. “I’m just going to freshen up and mingle a bit. I’ll be back shortly.”

“I should come with you.”

Her eyes boggled. “That’s an entirely inappropriate statement.”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, no. I don’t mean I should join you while you freshen up, I just meant I should be by your side while you mingle.”

She let out a sigh. Time to give it to him straight. “Listen, I’m not sure this is going to work out.”

“Please,” he said as he took her hand. “Please, My Lady. Give me a chance.”

He did seem nice and, she supposed, she could do a lot worse. Still, she wasn’t sure. “I’ll think about it and touch base with you after the holidays. In the meantime, please enjoy the rest of your evening.”

She picked up her purse and stepped back, stumbling a bit; Philip reached out to steady her. “Are you all right, My Lady?”

How many drinks had she had? Surely not that many. “I’m fine. I must have tripped over my dress. So silly. Excuse me.”

As she walked away, one of her assigned Royal Protection agents came up next to her. “Are you all right, Your Highness?” he asked, his voice low so only she could hear.

“Perfectly so, Edward. How are you this evening?”

He rumbled a laugh, and she turned at the sound. She’d never heard him laugh before.

“I’m perfectly fine as well, My Lady. Was that man bothering you?”

She shook her head. “No, he’s harmless. Just let him enjoy the evening.”

“You can do better than him.”

She wrinkled her eyebrows, unsure if she’d heard him correctly. “Pardon?”

“Nothing, My Lady,” he said and gestured for her to continue walking.

A princess in need of a few minutes alone was always doomed to bad luck. One person after another bowed or curtsied as she passed, some also stopped to chat with her for a few moments. By the time they finally arrived at a small sitting room situated near the ballroom, thirty minutes must have passed.

Edward knocked, then double-checked the room to ensure it was empty before giving Cat leave to enter. She took a seat at a small desk situated against the wall, over which a gilded mirror hung, and gave herself a critical look. Her dark hair had held up well in her coiled updo, she thought as she turned her head from side-to-side. She blinked when the small movement made her a little dizzy.

She tugged at her strapless gold dress; though it hadn’t really shifted to reveal anything, it couldn’t hurt to secure it again. She began to adjust the Vallerian purple sash around her waist when the elaborate knot it was tied in became undone. She wrestled with it for several minutes when a knock came at the door.

“Your Highness, are you all right?”

“Could you come in here a moment?”

The door cracked open and Edward gave a cursory look around before his eyes rested on her. “Are you hurt, My Lady?”

“No, just clumsy.” She gestured to the mangled fabric in her hands. “Could you find one of the women? Rebecca, perhaps? I can’t go out like this.”

“Of course, My Lady. I can have one of the agents bring Miss Campo, but I could also assist you, if you’re comfortable with that.”

She blinked. “You could?”

He gave her an indulgent smile. “Of course, My Lady. I have two sisters myself, and three nieces at present. I’m used to ribbon emergencies.”

She frowned and looked at him, for perhaps the first time. He knew about ribbons and sashes and dresses? And was her brain fuzzy or was he always this good-looking? Did his brown hair always flop over his forehead like that? Was he always so massive and strong?

He looked even bigger as he came to stand behind her. “Please stand, My Lady.”

She stood slowly, her palms grasping the desk for some needed balance. She felt his fingers brush her side as he picked up the two ends of the sash. She glanced up, her eyes widening as she saw him reflected in the mirror, directly behind her.

A vision of them naked, of him taking her from behind, flashed through her mind, and a sharp pang of need settled in her core. She quickly stood up straight, wanting, needing to banish the image.

His long, broad hands fell to her waist and her pulse scattered. “Are you all right, My Lady?”

“Mmmhmm,” she eeked out, the sound uncharacteristically high-pitched.

“I’ll just need another moment, My Lady.”

She kept her gaze on the ceiling and her body stiff, with one hand fisted at her hip and the other flat against her stomach. She bit her lip as his hands accidentally brushed her again. Even through layers of chiffon and silk, she could feel him.

“All done, My Lady. Why don’t you take a look?”

She took a deep breath and turned to the side, then slowly lowered her gaze to the mirror. She avoided looking at him and forced herself to focus on the knot, which had indeed been expertly tied. “It looks perfect. Thank you, Edward.”

“It’s no trouble to serve you, Your Highness,” he said in a soft voice.

She couldn’t help herself, couldn’t resist. She raised her eyes and caught his in their reflection. Was the yearning in his eyes real? Or was she so desperate or drunk that she was imagining emotion where none lay?

She turned around, but became twisted in her dress and stumbled again.

This time, into his arms.

Time stopped as they both stood in the firelit room, unmoving, breathing roughly together. His warm hands were on her back, hers were fisted in the stiff fabric of his jacket. She did the only thing she could think of.

She kissed him.

Her full lips pressed against his. When he didn’t move and merely stiffened, she thought she’d got it wrong, and had been imagining things.

But then his lips began to move.

He groaned and his lips easily took control. When his tongue licked her lips, her mouth parted without hesitation. He tasted warm and slightly sweet, like hot buttered rum on a cool winter night.

As his hands slipped over the curve of her ass, her soft moans filled the room. A burst of white, hot need flushed her skin and she gripped his jacket tighter.

Desperation filled the room. Hers. His.

More
, was all she could think. “More,” she gasped, unknowingly out loud.

He pulled back abruptly. “Jesus. Jesus Christ. I’m so sorry.” He left her leaning against the desk and walked to the other side of the room. “I’m so sorry.”