by Donna Alward
She nodded. She was so ready. It had been only two weeks from proposal to ceremony and even then it had seemed too long. Her dress was deceptively simple, a sleeveless white A-line with a tiny train and detail just on the shoulders. It was an Aurora design, of course, and her favorite from last year’s bridal collection straight off the rack. Her bouquet was cut from the garden, the last of the lilacs and best of the roses. A simple camellia was in her hair. There’d be a celebration following the service, and then she and Jacob would be heading to Tenerife for their honeymoon. That had been her idea, since she’d caused him to miss his first trip.
“Thank you, Stephen. For this. For interfering.” She smiled up at him. “You got it right this time.”
“As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
She didn’t quite believe him. Stephen was lonely, and they all knew it. But he’d have to solve that in his own time.
“Shall we?”
The doors were opened and Stephen and Charlotte stepped outside into the bright sunlight. Jacob was waiting at the rose trellis, his gray eyes shining and a smile lighting up his face as she appeared. When they reached him and Stephen gave Jacob her hand, she realized hers was trembling. His was not. He was, and always would be, her rock.
She wanted to kiss him so much right now, but first there were vows to be said.
“I, Jacob Andrew Wolfe, take you, Charlotte Louise Pemberton...”
She would not cry. She wouldn’t.
“...to have and to hold, from this day forward...”
Someone sniffled. Charlotte looked into Jacob’s eyes and heard the words, but more, she felt them, deep inside, where she would cherish them always.
“I, Charlotte Louise Pemberton, take you, Jacob Andrew Wolfe...”
Her voice shook as she repeated the words. After this moment, he would be hers, and she would be his. Forever. She wasn’t sure how she’d gotten so lucky, but she promised herself to be thankful every day.
“...till death us do part.”
They exchanged rings...and then the moment she’d been waiting for...the kiss to seal the deal. And just when she was sure her heart couldn’t get any fuller, he placed his palm on her stomach before leaning in to touch her lips with his. “I love you,” he whispered. “Both of you.”
“We love you, too,” she replied, and tilted her face up for her first kiss as his wife.
* * *
If you missed the previous story in the Heirs to an Empire trilogy, then check out
Scandal and the Runaway Bride
And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Donna Alward
The Billionaire’s Island Bride
Beauty and the Brooding Billionaire
Christmas Baby for the Billionaire
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Summer Fling with a Prince by Katrina Cudmore.
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Summer Fling with a Prince
by Katrina Cudmore
CHAPTER ONE
HIS SILVER-GREY GAZE flicked over her and then away from where she was waiting for him in the reception area of the open-plan office. His first acknowledgement of her arrival. Seated midway around the conference table positioned at the centre of the converted warehouse, he was listening intently, a slight nod or frown his only feedback to what was being said by the others around the table.
The group of fifteen were speaking in English but, given their accents, they were from a wide mixture of nationalities. Their exuberance and passion for whatever they were discussing was what united them, as was their body language that said they were trying to impress him. Their boss. Prince Ivo of Monrosa. Former international athlete and now Private Investment Management CEO.
His staff, those taking part in the meeting and the twenty or so others who were working on laptops at long communal tables, were casually dressed to suit the laidback vibe of the office interior that housed break-out areas with low-slung armchairs and lavish barista machines, modern artwork hanging on the exposed stone walls. But Ivo stood apart, his exceptional height, proud stature, immaculate grooming and astute, watchful presence making it near impossible not to stare at him. He had a hardness, a sharpness in every feature that made him strikingly handsome but also incredibly intimidating.
His crisp blue open-necked shirt and navy trousers were bespoke. His wavy brown hair, cropped at the sides, was swept back from his forehead. With high cheekbones and tight, glowing skin, he still had the bright-eyed energy of an international athlete. And with a royal title, wealth, a distinguished sporting career and now a reputation in the financial world for killer analytical skills, no wonder he was aloof. He didn’t have to impress anyone.
Admit it, Toni Clarke...you find his cool self-possession inspirational...and sexy as hell. And the way your heart is thumping...well, it’s not just due to your nervousness over this interview, is it? Nope, it’s seeing him again that’s throwing you off balance.
Unable to bear sitting any longer, she stood and stared out of the window to the rejuvenated and historical dock area on the harbour front of Monrosa town. She had so many ties with Ivo, but had only met him the once—when she was bridesmaid at her best friend Alice’s wedding to Ivo’s brother Prince Luis. Ivo had been best man. And it was through Alice that she had become friendly with Kara, Princess of Monrosa, who was married to the eldest royal brother, Prince Edwin, now monarch of Monrosa, having inherited the crown when his father abdicated.
She had known they’d invariably bump into each other this weekend at the christening of Kara and Edwin’s firstborn child—Princess Gabriela. She would have been able to handle that, as there would have been other people around for her to chat to. But now...thanks to Kara, she was about to spend four whole days in his company. The wedding had been eighteen months ago...but she was still mortified about how she had sobbed in his arms...and how horrified he had seemed.
You have this under control. Yes, the timing is terrible and, yes, he’s seen you ugly-cry, but the man’s an icon and this interview has the potential to change everything. Okay, so he might be the most unnerving man you have ever met but he’s still human...isn’t he? The Machine—his nickname when he won a gold medal for rowing, his expression never changing, whether it was on the starting line or on the podium, always the same unsettling, penetrating seriousness. Ivo never gave interviews. He was known for being intensely private. Other journalists would give their right arm to be able to interview him...for an hour even, never mind getting to spend four whole days with him. The simple fact is that you need this interview. You need it to be a success. Back yourself. Don’t give in to your self-doubts. At least you know something about his life and you’re not going into this interview completely blind like you usually do.
How on earth had she ever let Kara persuade her that she shouldn’t know who it was she was going to interview until the very last moment? Yes, this tactic led to honest and raw interviews where she learnt about the individual at the same time as the listener. There were no scripted questions, no time for her to enter the interview with any preconceived ideas about the person. But it was a nerve-racking process...especially as the podcast also involved her moving in with the person for four days. The interviews were garnering great feedback for their unique and intimate style. She and Kara had agreed that the initial interviews should be low-key, a way to experiment and learn from the process. And she had assumed that Kara, whose team organised the interviews, would keep it that way for another few months. Instead she had thrown her right into the deep end with an interview that would test the nerve of even the most seasoned of journalists. What ha
d Kara been thinking? Kara knew she wasn’t in a good place right now...your ex’s surprise wedding splashed all over social media tended to have that effect.
She was over Dan. It wasn’t as though she had spent the last eighteen months pining over him. She had got on with life, determined to make something of her new, if unexpected, independence. But his wedding had thrown her. It had brought back all the memories of the hurt and shock and disappointment of him leaving her...but also the regret and shame that in their later years together she had stayed with him not for love but because he made her feel secure. Regret because she had clung to the embers of their relationship for all the wrong reasons. Shame because she should have known better. For her entire childhood she had watched her father come and go from her life. She had known that love was unreliable. But instead of learning from that, instead of being wary and making sure to protect her heart, aged nineteen she had jumped right into a ten-year relationship with Dan, desperate to feel safe and secure. And when their relationship had started to go wrong, when Dan had grown distant and remote, she had fallen into the same trap her mother had fallen into with her father. Time and time again her mum had taken her dad back even after months or sometimes years of absence, always hoping that one day he would change and give her the love she needed and deserved.
She should have been braver in her relationship with Dan. Ended it long before he had walked away. She shouldn’t have been so willing to stay in a flawed relationship, compromising her own happiness and self-worth because she didn’t know how she would cope on her own.
Now she knew that she needed to protect herself, be tougher and not be so emotionally vulnerable. In the past she had always worn her heart on her sleeve, overly confident of other people’s loyalty and friendship. But all of that had been shattered when in the aftermath of her relationship with Dan ending, colleagues—who she had considered friends—in the television production company they both worked in had distanced themselves from her. It shouldn’t have been such a surprise. After all, Dan was the global star of riveting historical documentaries and the reason why the production company’s fortunes were growing year on year. She, as a producer, was much more replaceable. Even if it was her who introduced Dan to the production company in the first place when they had been searching for a presenter of their new documentary series.
Never again would she allow herself to be hurt. Yes, she dated guys but she kept them at a distance. She had no interest in anything serious and was instead pouring her energy into her career as a podcaster.
This YA Together, Person Unknown podcast was everything to her. It was her way of re-establishing her name and reputation. It was the thing that gave her a purpose in life. She could not mess up this golden opportunity.
Along the marina, office workers finished for the week, and, no doubt celebrating the fact that it was a long weekend in Monrosa, as Monday was a national holiday, sat outside the bars and cafés, sipping cocktails and eating tapas. Her stomach grumbled. She hadn’t eaten since she had grabbed a croissant in her local café this morning on the way to the airport. But she hadn’t even managed to eat that in full, thanks to Kara’s phone call. Kara had excitedly announced that she had set her up with an interview for the weekend. Toni had argued that she was in no fit state to interview anyone but Kara wasn’t having any of it. Kara wouldn’t even listen to her protests that she had been looking forward to spending the weekend getting to know Gabriela. Instead Kara had ended the call saying that as usual the driver who was to collect her at the airport would inform her of her interviewee once they were approaching the interviewee’s place of work. She had binned her croissant and run home to collect her portable recorder and microphones.
‘Miss Clarke?’
She swung around, her heart pounding. She hadn’t heard him approach.
‘My apologies for keeping you waiting.’ He gestured in the direction of the refreshment area. ‘Can I get you something to drink?’
He was so polite, so formal. So unperturbed at meeting her again. Blood rushed to her cheeks. His voice, deep and accented, had her heart thumping in her chest.
‘No, thank you, Your Highness.’
He asked her to follow him and, grabbing her laptop bag, she followed him into one of the glass-walled offices to the side of the warehouse. He sat behind the desk, a huge window behind him giving a view of the row of mega-yachts lining the marina, the ferry that ran between here and Monrosa old town creating a white ribbon wake in the ink-blue Mediterranean.
She took a seat on the opposite side of the desk.
He fixed those silver eyes on her. Seconds passed. He continued to stare at her. Was this a test? She smiled in the hope he might respond in kind. He didn’t. She felt herself redden again, her heart really pounding now under the force of his gaze, the aura of power that surrounded him, his comfort with the silence between them that was making her want to start babbling. And what really scared her was that one very crazy and inappropriate question kept going around her head and she was terrified of blurting it out.
Do you like having sex standing up?
What was the matter with her? Why was she sitting here trying to erase the image of Ivo holding her against a wall, that deep voice whispering into her ear?
‘Four days seems excessive.’
Was he thinking about sex too? She swallowed hard. ‘Four days?’
He frowned. ‘Yes, the interview. Kara said it would take four days.’
‘Oh...yes... I’m afraid so.’ She took a deep breath, knowing she needed to focus. She was used to this. Interviewees having second thoughts about agreeing to the interview in the first place. ‘But I promise to be a good houseguest. I don’t have any bad habits...that I know of anyway. Although one of my interviewees did reckon I hogged the bathroom too much in the morning, but then she did live in a one-bathroom apartment, not a palace.’ She gave a laugh. And then cringed when his expression tightened.
It was time to start again. She held out her hand. ‘Sir it’s really nice to see you again and thank you for agreeing to the interview. As Kara may have explained, I do not know who I am interviewing until I arrive, so it’s a great pleasure and surprise to know that it’s you.’ Surprise, yes. Pleasure...that she wasn’t certain of.
He leant across the table and took her hand. His grip was as strong and encompassing as she remembered. Breaking away, he asked, ‘Why a pleasure?’
His stare was uncompromising. As though he was assessing every detail about her, storing away every fact in order to decide whether he was going to go ahead with this interview. And instead of meeting him head on and persuading him that this was something he wanted to do, her brain headed off in a completely different direction.
Well, pleasure might be pushing it. Yes, I could watch you for eternity—you have the face and body of a Greek god—but in truth you kind of terrify me. Quiet people unnerve me. I like chat and banter. I like connecting with people and knowing where I stand with them. I don’t want complications or awkwardness. But with you... I’m not sure I’ll manage any of those things.
She sat more upright in her chair. It was time to pull herself together and do her job. ‘Your appearance on the podcast will help us to reach an even wider audience. People will want to hear your story.’ She paused, a sense of purpose grounding her. ‘This podcast, Person Unknown, is a gateway for people to learn that Young Adults Together is there to support them with any mental health problems they’re facing. After each podcast, there’s a spike in people contacting the helplines. But lots of young people either don’t know of the service or are too nervous to make contact—in having prominent people talk about their lives and what they have learnt in both good and bad times, listeners can realise that they aren’t alone in facing challenges. I am certain that your interview will be immensely powerful in helping others.’
He didn’t respond to her answer. His gaze shifted away to a point over he
r shoulder, a tiny movement ticking in his jaw. Outside, in the main office, staff were leaving for the day, their chatter and laughter in stark contrast with the silence between them.
She needed to take this situation in hand. Unzipping her laptop bag, she said in her best cheerful voice, ‘But before we talk any further, let me set up my equipment. As Kara will have explained, I always hold my first interview at the person’s place of work so that listeners get a glimpse of their professional life. And I begin recording as soon as is feasible so that the listeners get to hear our interactions from the very beginning. We want them to feel immersed in the whole experience.’ Placing the recorder on the table, she plugged the two microphones in and, positioning them in their mike stands on the table, she stood and leant across the desk in order to put the mike close to him. Raising her head, she met his solemn silver gaze. For long moments neither of them looked away. A buzz of attraction danced in the air between them. ‘Are you ready for me?’
He raised an eyebrow.
Heat blasted her cheeks. ‘I mean, are you ready for me to start the interview?’
* * *
A single small diamond around her neck swung as she waited for his answer. The top three buttons of her yellow dress were undone, her pale yellow bra beneath visible. Her perfume hadn’t changed—it was still that light, floral scent. He inhaled an irritated breath, admitting to himself that ever since Luis’s wedding he had been subconsciously keeping tabs on her life, alert to any conversations Kara and Alice had about her, lingering over the media reporting of her split with her ex, newsworthy because he was a famous and much in demand TV historian.
Frowning, as though wondering just when he’d answer her question, she pushed her long brown hair back behind one ear. It was the same light chestnut colour as her eyes. Her nose was pert, her lips full. Her skin lightly tanned. At Luis and Alice’s wedding she had worn a gold sequinned bridesmaid dress that emphasised the swell of her breasts, the curve of her narrow waist, and when she had walked down the aisle, her hair tied up, tears in her eyes despite her wide smile, he had been unable to tear his gaze away from her. She had a soft, gentle beauty that was utterly captivating. He had told himself that he followed any news on Toni with just the same interest and concern he would have for anyone who had an association with the family. But some nights, alone in the silence of his finca, the idea of contacting her would bubble inside of him...but that idea had never become more than a fleeting thought, as he had never been sure of what purpose it would serve, and anyway, the complications of contacting her were too great, considering her ties with both of his sisters-in-law.
