Their Christmas Royal Wedding Read online

  Imogen raised her eyebrows. ‘So there is some truth to the press reports.’

  ‘No...yes... It’s...complicated.’

  ‘Isn’t it always with these royal princes?’ Imogen grinned and somehow Gabi felt more grounded. After all, Imogen’s life had completely changed as well and she had never seen her friend happier. Ah. But Imogen was in love, had a fiancé who adored her. Love was not on the table here and this marriage was a negotiation, each date the equivalent of a meeting shrouded in the illusion of romance.

  Before she could say any more Luca and Cesar headed over to them as Antonio tapped a spoon against his glass and once the hum of conversation subsided, he began to speak.

  ‘As you all know, we decided to keep this ceremony private as both Tia and I wanted something simple with just friends and family. We also decided to forgo the usual formal speeches, but I would like to briefly say how very, very happy I am. Tia means the world to me and I cannot wait to welcome our baby into the world. My only regret is that my father is not here and neither is Tia’s brother, Nathan, my best friend, who died in the line of duty. I would have been honoured to have him as my best man.’ He raised a glass. ‘To those we’ve lost.’

  Gabi lifted her glass, felt the ache of grief for the father she’d never known, the mother she barely remembered except as an elusive voice, a scent, a feeling of arms around her. For her aunt and uncle who had taken her in for duty but had at least not abandoned her, had provided her with a roof, with food and a muted love. For Tia’s brother, Nathan, taken at the prime of life. Like Sophia, a life cut tragically short.

  Next to her she felt Cesar move closer to her, took comfort from his warmth.

  Now Tia stepped forward.

  ‘I miss Nathan more than I can say. But I know exactly what he’d say now. He’d want us to get on and celebrate—appreciate what we have and enjoy the moment. He would be thrilled his best friend was marrying his little sister—and I hope and believe that somehow, somewhere he does know and is giving us his blessing. I would also like to raise my glass now to my mother, who is the most loving, wonderful mother a daughter could ever hope for.’

  Once more glasses were raised and soon after that waiters circulated with more canapés; soft music played in the background until it came time for the newly-weds to leave.

  Gabi moved forward to hug them. ‘I am so happy for you both,’ she said.

  ‘Thank you, big sister.’

  ‘It still feels strange to hear you say that.’

  ‘But it is true.’ Antonio spoke softly now. ‘Gabi. Follow your heart—and do not let anyone pressure you into anything simply to win approval. Things have changed in the Valenti family—duty is important but not at the cost of your happiness.’

  Gabi looked at him, wondered if he knew of or suspected Cesar’s plans. Perhaps to a royal they were obvious.

  ‘Thank you, and have a wonderful honeymoon.’

  Once the happy couple had been waved off Cesar turned to Gabi. ‘Shall we go?’

  Gabi glanced at him, sure that the man next to her, despite the smile on his lips and all the suave sophistication on show, wanted to shake the dust off his feet and flee the wedding and the company.

  ‘I’ll change into something more comfortable and then, yes, I’m ready.’

  * * *

  An hour later Cesar felt a loosening of tension as the Cessna levelled out flying over the verdant ever green beauty of Casavalle. It felt good to be flying high above the cloying confetti-strewn scenes of everlasting love, good to watch Gabriella’s expression as she gazed out at the panoramic vista. He wanted to see her smile; knew that the wedding of her brother had brought mixed emotions for her as well as for him. The clusters of deep green trees that dotted the sweep and roll of the snow-dusted hills, the misty, mystical crags and peaks of Aguilarez’s mountainous terrain in the distance were more than enough to bring a sense of joy.

  For a while they gazed out in a silence only broken by the thrum of the plane’s engines. Then she turned to him. ‘It’s awe-inspiring. It gives you are a real perspective—up here I feel free. Up here if I wanted to I could take off my boots and wriggle my bare toes and no one would tell me I was breaching royal protocol. I could paint my nails bright scarlet.’

  ‘If you’d told me I’d have brought some nail polish.’

  Her smile was rueful. ‘It’s mad, really. I never wanted to paint them scarlet before—it’s only now I know I can’t.’

  Her honesty made him smile in return. ‘It will become easier; once your position is more settled, once you get used to all the rules. Then you’ll be able to figure out which ones you can break. And you’ll learn the all-important royal requirement—how to wear a mask. That helps.’

  ‘Is that what you were doing today?’

  The question caught him off guard. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘At the wedding I got the impression you were...not uncomfortable, exactly, but that there were other places you’d rather be.’ Surprise creased his forehead; how on earth had Gabriella noticed that? Hell, he must be losing his royal diplomatic touch.

  ‘I did find the whole event...a little disconcerting,’ he admitted. ‘It was hard to believe the evidence of my eyes—to see the Valenti princes behaving in a way that seems so out of character. I knew the court had changed since the King’s death but I had not expected to see Antonio, usually so reserved, so outwardly happy. And Luca—he is like a different person with Imogen.’

  ‘And you disapprove.’

  ‘It is not my place to approve or disapprove. It just felt surreal.’

  There was a silence. ‘I think it took both my brothers by surprise as well. Neither of them intended to fall in love.’ She inhaled an audible breath. ‘So maybe it could happen to you.’

  ‘No.’ The word unequivocal, no quarter or doubt, because he needed her to know that if she married him, she must not harbour delusions of or hope for love. ‘That will not happen to me.’

  ‘I don’t understand how you can be so sure. As you said yourself, both Luca and Antonio have changed their stance towards love.’

  Cesar suspected that Luca and Antonio had been able to show love, feel love because their upbringing, though similarly rooted in duty, had also contained love. True, King Vincenzo had been distant, formal, but he had once known the headiness of love with Gabriella’s mother, and had had a good relationship with Queen Maria, even though it had not been a love match. And Queen Maria was a little softer than his own mother, had managed to temper the dictates of duty with some show of feeling towards her children. Perhaps made them believe in the possibility of love, made them foolish enough to open up to the risks. ‘But I’m not made that way.’

  ‘So what if you too change your mind?’ she asked. Then, as if reading his expression, she raised her hand, her face flushing, sheer horror in her eyes. ‘Oh, God. I don’t mean do you think you will fall in love with me! I meant what if you fall in love with someone else?’ Cesar frowned; why would she assume it would be possible for him to fall in love but not with her? ‘Like Meribel did.’

  ‘That will not happen.’ How to convince her of something he knew with bone-deep certainty? ‘Love is not in my vocabulary, not in my dictionary, not in my lexicon. Look at the mess and misery Meribel caused. I know Luca says that she did no wrong, that there is nothing to forgive.’ He had been there when Luca had met with his sister, had admired the Valenti prince’s eloquence and generosity. ‘I know he now believes love trumps duty, that love is a driving force, but, whilst I respect that belief, I am not made that way.’

  And so whilst he would not have chosen marriage he had accepted the necessity, and now as he looked at Gabriella it no longer felt like a life sentence—instead it felt like something that could work.

  ‘I truly believe a marriage will work better without love. If Meribel had not met Dana, not fallen pregnant, if the marriage
had gone through as planned, then Luca and she could have, would have been happy together.’

  ‘But not as happy as they are now?’

  Cesar shrugged, looked out of the window over the vast vista, where green and grey and brown swathed the landscape, the people not even tiny dots. ‘Who knows? Love brings its own risks, of loss and grief. It complicates life. If we marry you do not need to fear I will fall in love with anyone.’ He could hear the twist of disdain in his voice, hastened to sweeten it. ‘I will be a one-woman man. Your man.’

  Now awareness shimmered on the air, in echo of the mist outside, and the words felt like a vow. ‘I would not be unfaithful—in truth I cannot imagine why I would want to be.’

  As he looked at her, saw her gaze out over a country she had been called upon to rule, he was struck anew by her beauty, and by a visceral desire. Her brown eyes held vulnerability and doubt. ‘How can you know that? You are a man who is used to variety—you’ve been with so many beautiful women. How can you possibly swap from a playboy lifestyle to that of a married man?’

  It was a fair question. ‘It will not be a problem.’

  ‘They are easy words to say.’ She turned to him. ‘After all, just a couple of months ago you were involved, had a girlfriend. Amelia. Amelia Scott-Browne.’ A ghost of a smile. ‘That is common knowledge. She is blonde and beautiful and titled. Yet you’ve got over her remarkably quickly.’

  ‘I was involved with Amelia but not in any deep sense. We had an agreeable interlude but it was never serious. There was nothing to get over.’

  On his part, anyway; yet he had for once completely miscalculated with Amelia and annoyance tugged his gut as their break-up scene flashed into his mind.

  ‘Amelia, we have had a good time, have we not? A lot of fun. But this is a good time for an ending. I must go back to my country and help sort out the problems there.’

  ‘I can wait.’

  It was then he’d realised it was going to be difficult.

  ‘Perhaps now is a good time to talk about beginnings, not endings. I want to marry you, Cesar. I love you and I believe you love me.’

  Yet her green eyes had held assessment rather than love, or was that wishful thought on his part?

  ‘I would make an excellent ambassadorial wife. No scandal, always the right conversation, and I’m good with people. We could make it work.’

  As he’d listened, his brain had whirred. There would be time for anger at himself later; now he had to figure out damage limitation.

  ‘I am sorry, Amelia, but I will not marry you. There is no question of love. You always knew that.’

  ‘But I thought that when you saw how well I understood your needs you would change your mind. Think of all I can offer you, Cesar.’

  ‘I have no doubt you would make an excellent ambassadorial wife, Amelia. But you know full well that I never had any intention or desire to get married. And if I do it will only be for my country’s benefit. That is as it is. But I would like us to part amicably.’

  Her green eyes had narrowed in what now seemed obvious calculation. ‘It wouldn’t be a good time for another scandal to hit your country.’

  So much for love, he thought.

  ‘It wouldn’t,’ he’d agreed easily. ‘But in the long term it would hurt you more than it would me. I still won’t marry you, and neither will anyone else in diplomatic circles.’

  Her eyes had widened and her lips had tipped up into a smile that hadn’t reached them.

  ‘I understand that, and of course I wouldn’t cause a scandal.’ Her voice had emerged through gritted teeth. ‘I hope that we can remain friends.’

  Thus they had parted, and in truth he had given Amelia very little thought since, his focus on the events here and his impending marriage. And in the past days on Gabriella, who was looking at him with a troubled expression.

  ‘So you could walk away without a regret, just move on?’

  ‘Yes.’ There was little point in pretence. ‘I have always been upfront with any woman I have been involved with that I could not offer permanence or anything serious.’

  ‘But what if it had become deeper? What if you had started to have feelings for each other?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said simply. ‘But that never did happen.’ He’d made sure it couldn’t, kept it all light and on a superficial level. ‘I always made sure that I kept the relationships short term. Prevention is better than cure, after all.’

  ‘You make it sound like an illness, a disease that you have had to avoid.’

  ‘Not an illness but a foolishness that I have been happy to avoid.’ Why risk hurt or being hurt?

  ‘All these women, Lady Amelia, the others, they meant nothing to you?’ Now Gabriella looked horrified. ‘They were meaningless. Yet you think you can sustain a marriage.’

  Now irritation sparked in him. ‘Those women weren’t meaningless. They were all individuals who I liked, who liked me. We spent time together, enjoyable time, had fun. But a future together was never an end game; I made that clear at the outset and they were in complete agreement. With you the rules are different. A future together is the start point.’

  ‘So you’re offering me the long-term, marriage-included package deal.’

  ‘Exactly. And I fully intend it to be a sustainable working partnership.’ Cesar gave an inward wince. Could he make this any less appealing? Time to lighten it up. ‘I also propose that we have some fun and, of course, there is also great sex on offer.’

  The change of tactic caused a small gasp to fall from her lips. ‘You can’t really expect me to marry you for great sex?’

  ‘Not just for great sex. But it would be a bonus.’ He wiggled his eyebrows. ‘A big bonus.’

  Gabriella gave a half-choke of laughter and shook her head. ‘I cannot believe you said that.’

  Cesar grinned and shrugged. ‘Why not? In a negotiation it is important to stress the benefits on offer.’ He met her gaze and now his tone was serious. ‘I think it does matter. The attraction between us. It is a good thing.’ This he knew—he’d seen how lack of passion led to a coldness, an aura of apathy and indifference. A stifled joyless atmosphere.

  Gabi looked at him closely, studied his expression and he continued.

  ‘I can offer you liking, respect, support, fidelity, fun, great sex.’ He took a deep breath. ‘But I can’t offer you love. So our marriage won’t work if love is what you want.’ Cesar felt his jaw tense as he awaited her answer, knew it would essentially be the make or break in the negotiations. Hoped she could see that his offer was a better proposition than the uncertainties and vagaries of love. Watched as she turned away and looked out of the window. Realised he was holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

  * * *

  Gabi looked out over the jagged mountainous magnificence of Aguilarez. To her left the sweeping green of the Casavallian hills. Their countries were separated by a border and so much more, yet shared the same island, both surrounded by deep blue ocean. Sharing a history and two cultures, friendship and enmity that spanned centuries. There would have been alliances through marriage in the past; no doubt she wasn’t the first ruler of Casavalle to weigh the necessity of love.

  She’d always assumed she’d marry for love but now...the assumption blurred and faded. Liking, support, respect, fidelity, fun and, of course, the great sex. There was so much to be said for that. The idea of someone to help bear the weight and responsibility of ruling, a prince at her side who understood how it all worked. The fact that simply by saying I do she would help unite their two countries—surely the enormity of that outweighed the need for love.

  A love she might never find anyway. Especially now. How would she ever know whether someone loved her for herself or for her position? Even if someone did fall for her how could she expect them to give up their life, their privacy and end up in the spotlight with h
er? If she fell in love with an ‘ordinary’ person what chance would that love have?

  Imogen would say that love conquered all, that it would be possible to work it out. Whilst Cesar would say that that was a risk not worth the taking.

  What would her parents have said? Gabi wondered. They had fallen in love, must have married with so much hope and happiness for the future.

  Just eighteen months later her mother had fled, convinced that she was the wrong wife for a king, not wanting to bring her child up as a royal. Then, when she’d decided to give love a chance, it was too late. The King had met Maria and Sophia had decided not to complicate his life.

  Had she been right or wrong? Gabi didn’t know.

  She remembered the words of Sophia’s letter, every syllable etched on her brain.

  Gabriella,

  I want you to know that I did love your father, but I do believe he was better without me.

  Love complicated his life. I complicated his life—I won’t risk that again. Not now he has found a suitable wife who will, I hope, make him happy in a way I never could.

  And Vincenzo had been happy; however much he had loved Sophia he hadn’t tried to track her down, had granted the divorce without any attempt to persuade her to change her mind. Why? Luca believed it had been pride. But perhaps Vincenzo had known that love and ruling could not go hand in hand. Perhaps he had believed Sophia would be happier without him. She’d never know and that brought sadness with it; this decision was hers alone to make. But perhaps she could learn from the past. Maria and Vincenzo had been happy; they had done right by each other and Casavalle. Perhaps she needed to do the same.

  Here above their two countries, where she could almost see the dividing line that separated them, she knew she had to do all in her power to serve her country, to keep the beautiful island below them united and at peace. But doubts still crowded in...this was still her life. Hers and his. And she wouldn’t, couldn’t rush into a decision here and now.