The King's Bought Bride (Royal House of Leone Book 1)

by Jennifer Lewis

  Beatriz smiled. “Very sensible.” To Emma’s surprise she leaned in and kissed her on both cheeks. “At three o’clock today you will officially be royal, anyway.”

  The ceremony would take place at Casteleone Cathedral, in the center of town, and Emma traveled there—alone—in a gilded coach pulled by four gleaming white horses with blue feathers on their heads. There was an alarming moment when one of the horses spooked at a camera flash, but the coachman soon got things under control and they continued a slow parade through the crowd.

  Beatriz and her mom had shown her how to wave, and she waved and smiled at the crowd, wondering what on earth the people thought of this strange foreign girl swooping in to marry their gorgeous and eligible young monarch.

  When the carriage pulled up in front of the grand Gothic cathedral, she was helped from it by two footmen in gold brocade. Little girls in striped dresses strewed rose petals on the ground in front of her as she walked toward the main door, with two older girls carrying the long train of her veil.

  This was crazy.

  She couldn’t say she’d spent years dreaming of her wedding day and planning every detail, but she certainly never thought it would be like this. Not so much the pomp and ceremony, but the grim reality that she was marrying a virtual stranger as part of a neat business arrangement.

  She could never have done this if her parents were alive. Her mom would have kept her honest.

  An older male family member had been drummed up to give her away, and he arrived gleaming with medals in a ceremonial uniform. He didn’t speak but took her hand and guided her up the steps to the cathedral doors.

  Emotion suddenly clogged the back of her throat. If her dad were alive would he even have given her away? Or would he have still been too busy touring with his band or losing himself in drugs? They reached the door of the church, and a thousand faces turned to stare from the pews.

  She managed to keep a shaky smile on her face. Not too beaming, though. She didn’t want to look fake. Even though she was.

  Organ music boomed over them and she scanned the altar end of the cathedral for Darias, who was waiting in the wings somewhere, along with his brother Rigo, the best man.

  Just keep it together.

  Her stand-in father walked her down the aisle so slowly she began to wonder if they’d ever get there. One of the little flower girls started sneezing, and Emma welcomed the opportunity to fuss over her and ease the crushing sense of formality.

  Her dread grew as they reached the altar. This is it. You’re going to stand up before all these people, and God, and lie to them. Until death us do part.

  Or not.

  Where was Darias? She tried to scan the space as surreptitiously as possible. Maybe he decided to back out. She’d be left alone in front of all these people, to suffer under their pitying stares.

  The she saw him. Her heart squeezed at the sight of him. He looked so tall and dashing in the ceremonial uniform, black with a red collar and cuffs, gold brocade slashing across his chest. He looked every bit the handsome prince from a fairy tale.

  Except this was no fairy tale. The organ music swelled to a close, and the murmur of conversation hushed to a grim silence. Darias walked toward her, expression serious, eyes hooded and mouth set in a grim line.

  As he drew close their eyes met and a jolt of energy flashed between them. What was he thinking right now? Did he wish this was a true marriage with the promise of a lifetime of love?

  Her chest tightened. How different things would be if it was.

  Her elderly companion slid his arm from hers, and Darias took her hand. She tried not to notice how her skin responded to the heat of his fingers. It took all her concentration to keep her expression neutral and pleasant as they walked the last few steps toward the altar, where the officiant waited.

  She could feel her heart beating a hundred miles an hour inside the tight bodice of her dress, as the officiant uttered the words she’d rehearsed with Beatriz. They were in the local language but similar to the weddings she’d attended back home, so she tried her best to follow their meaning until they reached the part where she’d have to respond.

  At last it came. She tried to clear her throat silently, hoping she wouldn’t croak or squawk like a chicken as she said “I do” in the unfamiliar tongue.

  Darias slid the ring on her finger. The size of the diamond, ringed with yet more diamonds, made it look fake. Unlike everything else happening here, she knew it was real.

  The officiant murmured more words, looking at Darias, and he said “I do,” as well, before they were officially pronounced man and wife. Just like in the U.S., it was now time for the new husband to kiss his bride.

  She held her breath as his sensual mouth moved toward hers. Pictures of this moment would probably ricochet around the world so she needed it to look warm and genuine.

  Pretend it’s real. Pretend you know him and love him.

  Her lips met his and warmth exploded in her chest as they kissed.

  If only it were real.

  The scent of him tormented her and for a second she felt a tantalizing hint of tongue, but then he pulled back, eyes dark.

  She shivered slightly, trying to get herself under control. The officiant continued talking, then the organ music started up again, and Darias slid his arm through hers and led her back toward the doors. Soon they were outside, blinking in the bright sun, as cameras flashed and the waiting crowd cheered.

  Darias leaned in. “Thank you.”

  His whisper heated her ear. She couldn’t think of an appropriate response so she kept her smile in place and waved as she’d been taught. After an eternity of photo ops, they climbed into a different carriage—the horses had red plumes—that took them back to the palace, where a celebration feast was arranged.

  “Are all the people from the town going to come to the palace?”

  “Oh, no. There’s a feast laid on for them in the town square. This is for friends, family, international dignitaries.”

  “Will I have to mingle?”

  “I’m afraid so, but I’ll be right with you. Just nod and smile. You’re doing an amazing job. My mom has been glowing all morning. After recent events that’s a huge blessing.” He squeezed her hand, blissfully unaware of the alarming effect he had on her. “Just a few more hours and we can relax in private.”

  That’s what I’m afraid of.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Emma stayed away from the champagne during the afternoon and evening of feasting and celebrating. She was a lightweight at the best of times and wanted to make sure she didn’t do anything foolish.

  Finally at midnight Darias rang a spoon against a glass. The din of noise slowly subsided as one by one, people turned to look at him. “Thank you all for coming to celebrate my wedding. My bride and I will be retiring to enjoy our wedding night. Please stay until dawn and enjoy our hospitality.”

  The announcement sounded like something from the fourteenth century, like many of the day’s events. He held out his hand regally, and she took it with as much of a smile as she could muster.

  This is it.

  How would they sleep in the same bed? The palace was far too populated with family and staff—not to mention all the guests sleeping there that night—for them to do anything but share a bed.

  She walked from the room on Darias’s arm, waving and accepting compliments from a hundred strangers on what should have been the most magical and romantic day of her life. Not a hollow mockery of it.

  “Thanks,” she whispered to Darias. “I was getting really tired.” Now, though, adrenaline sparked through her.

  “That much socializing takes its toll. I half wish I could go up into the attic and paint for the rest of the night. That’s my favorite way of coming down from too much excitement.”

  “You could.”

  He laughed. “Hardly. At least these days no one will be waiting outside our door to see bloodied sheets as evidence of your virginity being taken, but if I s
pent the night painting they’ll start whispering that I’m gay or something.”

  “Are you?” Oddly, the thought hadn’t occurred to her before. If he was gay, it would make perfect sense why he needed to buy a bride rather than just fall in love with one.

  And what a relief that would be. She’d soon stop harboring foolish feelings for a man who didn’t even like women.

  “No. I adore women.”

  “As I suspected.” He said it with such conviction that she had to smile. “I suppose that’s why you couldn’t settle on just one.”

  “Indeed.” The hint of apology in his tone combined with the sparkle in his warm, brown eyes to make his confession rather adorable. Even though he was all but admitting that he’d made their arrangement so he could continue his pursuit of all the fabulous women out there rather than getting stuck with one “until death us do part,” as they’d promised earlier. Or at least she thought they did. It was hard to tell what with the local dialect.

  They climbed the stairs to the second floor, under his painted ancestors’ stern gaze, her holding up her voluminous skirt. She knew where his bedroom was, though she’d never been inside it. “I should stop by my room and get my toothbrush.”

  “No need. The staff have brought all your effects to our room.”

  “Oh.” She froze. She’d left the contract on top of the wardrobe. Could anyone have found it up there? Should she tell Darias or would he be furious with her for being so careless? “Can I just pass by my old room to make sure nothing got left behind?”

  He shrugged. “Okay.”

  But the door was now locked—she’d left it unlocked—and she didn’t have her key. She’d have to sneak in some time tomorrow to retrieve it. If it was still there.

  If it wasn’t.…

  She rattled the handle. “I’m not sure I like having someone just pick up my stuff and move it. Some things are private.”

  “I feel the same way. Why do you think I stayed in New York for so long?” His wry grin warmed her heart. “You get used to it, though. Having no privacy.”

  “I guess marriage is somewhat similar. You get used to sharing your life with someone.” His silence made her regret her words. “In a real marriage, of course,” she whispered. “We’ll do our best to honor each other’s privacy.”

  “Naturally.”

  They abandoned their efforts to enter her room—she certainly wouldn’t be able to retrieve the contract and walk out with it in the presence of staff—and headed for his.

  See? She could talk to him in a businesslike fashion. She’d even got used to the sight of him in gold brocade and with that stiff collar accenting the hard lines of his jaw.

  His room was unlocked, and he held the door open for her. “Oh, goodness,” she said, as she entered and saw the room bedecked with vases of white and yellow flowers. “Are these a tradition?”

  “The white ones represent the purity of the bride,” he said with a mischievous grin.

  “And the yellow?”

  “The treasure of love.”

  She grimaced. “I hope this place isn’t haunted. The ghosts will know what we’re up to.”

  Darias put a finger to his lips. He pointed to the ceiling, then the bedside tables.

  “What?” She tried to figure out what he was pointing to.

  He pulled his phone from his pocket and started tapping.

  “Are you texting the ghosts?”

  He held the phone up. He’d typed: Might be bugged. Be careful.

  “Oh, you’re just texting the friend who missed his plane,” she said, to cover, nodding. “Tell him we miss him.”

  Darias winked and smiled, which made heat rise inside her.

  Then a weird thought occurred to her. She leaned in until her lips almost touched his ear. “Is it safe to whisper?” She could barely hear her own voice.

  He nodded. “And I’ll ask Gibran to have the room swept for bugs tomorrow, but during the wedding the staff were so busy that there was just too much opportunity for someone with connections to get in here. I need to get a guard posted here.”

  His breath heated her neck. “Let’s get into bed. It will be easier to talk under the covers,” he whispered.

  Great. Now they had to be up close and personal whether they wanted to or not.

  Either that or not talk. Which would be weird.

  She found her clothes in one of the two ornate mahogany wardrobes and pulled out a pair of white cotton pajamas. “Sweetie, could you help me out of this dress?”

  Might as well make it sound convincing.

  “Or course, my love. You looked radiant.”

  She giggled. This sounded so fake. She could feel his strong hands on the zipper, and it made her lightheaded. “Did I tell you that I’m a virgin?”

  His hands stopped. “Of course. I couldn’t marry you if you weren’t. Altaleone tradition forbids it.” She could hear the teasing in his voice as he played along.

  “I know. I’ve been saving myself.” It was hard not to laugh. Not that she really was all that experienced, anyway. “I do hope you’ll be gentle with me.”

  To her surprise he suddenly slid warm fingers inside the waistband of her dress. She gasped, and her belly contracted. “I hope I can control myself enough for that.”

  His touch sent heat rushing to her core. “You’d better try.” She batted at his hands.

  He slid them out, his fingertips gliding sensually over her skin.

  Okay, teasing him was a terrible idea. Now her body was about to burst into flames, and he was sliding her dress down over her shoulders.

  “I can do it.”

  “On our wedding night? I think not.” His low voice was sensual and suggestive. No doubt he was just playing along with their charade.

  Or maybe he did expect to have sex with her. He’d paid her a lot of money, after all. He’d take her pretend virginity, then proceed to embark on affairs with other women, like princes and kings before him had done for centuries.

  He must have felt her stiffen. He leaned in and again she felt his breath hot on her ear. “I’m only teasing. Your virginity is safe with me.”

  “I’m not really a virgin.”

  “I know.” His throaty whisper made her feel less virginal than ever.

  She needed to figure out how to get the dress off and her pajamas on, preferably without stripping naked in front of him. Especially with her nipples tight with arousal from all the unwanted touching.

  “I’m going to brush my teeth.” He must have heard her thoughts.

  Houdini probably couldn’t have got out of that dress and into the pajamas any faster than she did. She put the dress on a hanger, its big skirt pooling out of the closet and onto the floor, then climbed into bed and pulled the covers up under her chin.

  Darias emerged dressed only in a towel, and she averted her eyes from the tanned expanse of his muscled torso. “Hey, that’s my side.”

  “Not anymore. I can only sleep on the left.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Guess we’ll have to share.” Why couldn’t she stop teasing him? It helped to lighten the tension. And newlyweds bickering over silly things was probably more realistic than them declaring their undying love for each other.

  She looked up at the burgundy curtains hanging around the bed, the gold brocade walls and an extravagantly framed collection of pictures of hunting dogs—anywhere but at his damp, towel-clad body.

  “This bedroom is just your style,” she joked.

  “Isn’t it, though? All I need is a powdered wig, and I’ll fit right in.”

  “I guess you were born knowing you’d have to live like this.”

  “It’s a tough job but someone’s got to do it.” He locked the bedroom door. “This room has beautiful features if you strip away all the excess,” he pointed to the gorgeous inlaid wood ceiling. “But I’m not going to suggest any redecorating until my mom has had a long time to recover. She’s endured too much change already.”

 
“I think it’s wonderful that you care so much about your mom’s feelings.”

  “She deserves it. She’s a wonderful woman.” The sincerity in his voice touched her. “I’d do anything for her.”

  She averted her eyes as he climbed under the covers and switched out the lamp on the bedside table. The room was dark but not completely, and her eyes began to adjust to make out his bold features. His weight on the mattress tilted her slightly toward him. His body heat seemed to creep toward her under the covers, stirring something inside her.

  Oh, dear. And now they had to produce some kind of audio performance in case someone was listening. “You will be gentle with me, since it’s my first time?” She tapped her ear, to make her purpose clear.

  “Of course I will, my love. Though it will be hard to control my passions when I’ve forced myself to keep my hands off you for so long.” Mischief danced in his eyes, even in the darkness. He leaned in to whisper. “Let’s do some visual effects in case there’s a camera.”

  Her eyes widened. There had damn well better not be a camera. She just stripped naked in front of it. And before she’d even had time to give an answer, Darias zeroed in for a pretend kiss.

  Except that it wasn’t pretend. Once again his lips touched hers, soft and tender, and it was all she could do not to kiss him back. Her nipples thickened again and her thighs shivered. How could he do this without becoming aroused?

  Not that she could tell, really. He managed to artfully keep any telltale parts of his body away from her.

  Now his arm slipped around her waist. “Finally, we’re man and wife.”

  Her lips tingled, wanting to kiss his again. Which was not at all how this should be going!

  “Yes, the wedding was lovely. Your family has been so welcoming.” I wonder how they’ll talk about me right after I disappear in one year’s time. “I don’t know what I would have done without Beatriz.”

  Darias frowned. His eyes met hers for a second, and she got a feeling he wanted to say something but checked himself at the last minute. “Yes, she’s very loyal to the family. She wanted to be sure everything happened without a hitch. I’m grateful to her.”