“Once I get on her she’ll be fine.” He tried to reassure himself as much as the horse and her handler. Tinto herself was wearing fancy ceremonial tack, including an embroidered saddlecloth and tasseled reins. They’d make quite the romantic picture together—if he could just mount up.
He clanked a few steps closer, but the horse only skittered farther away across the stone courtyard. The groom tried to reason with her but she looked like she was about to turn and bolt for her field. Riding her would be interesting, under the circumstances. Still, he knew Stella would love it, and surely the armor functioned much like safety gear, right?
“Lead her to me while I stand still. Maybe that will work.” He smiled reassuringly at the mare, who responded by snorting and pawing at the ground. Jaume, the groom, tried to lead her closer, but she planted her feet and peered suspiciously at him down the length of her proud nose. “Maybe give me some treats. Some of those mints she likes.”
Jaume called out to Luis, who came running over with a fistful of candies and placed them awkwardly in Vasco’s armored hand. Lucky the metal cased gloves were leather underneath and surprisingly flexible. He managed to get the wrapper off and place one on his other palm, then reach out his hand. “Here, Tinto. It’s your favorite.”
Tinto looked interested, but wary. She tossed her head and sent her white mane flying. After about a minute she took a hesitant step toward him, then another, and took the treat. “See, I knew you’d figure out it’s me. You’re part of a very important plan.” He spoke softly to the mare. “Now we just have to figure out how to get me up on your back.” He looked from his metal clad foot to the wide, ceremonial stirrup. This armor must weigh a good seventy-five pounds. It wouldn’t be easy to get airborne. “Luis, could you give me a hand?”
Luis, who was neither young nor tall, shuffled over and wove his fingers together into a kind of human stirrup. Vasco knew he’d probably cripple the man if he stepped on his hand. “How about Luis holds Tinto and Jaume gives me a leg up.” Jaume was young and strapping. A relieved Luis took hold of the reins and Jaume strode boldly over, in turn looking relieved not to be holding one thousand pounds of potentially explosive horse.
“One, two…” Tinto neatly sidestepped out of the way before Jaume could give him a leg up. “Oh, come on. No more mints until I’m up.” He frowned meaningfully at the horse. “It’s barely a fifteen-minute ride. You’ll be home eating hay before you know it.”
Luis maneuvered Tinto back into position. Lightning-fast, Jaume helped heave Vasco up into the saddle and he slung his leg over and came down as lightly as possible on Tinto’s back. Tinto immediately wrenched free of Luis’s grasp and took off bucking across the courtyard. “Easy!” Vasco grabbed the reins and tried to bend her neck to get control. He clanked and rattled like a bag of bolts as she skated over the cobblestones. “All right, we’re off.” He had the ring in his pocket. As long as that didn’t fall out he was good.
He managed to steer her toward the gate that led from the stable yard out to the fields beyond, and all went surprisingly well until they got through the gate. Once they were outside the palace, Tinto threw in one more almighty buck, which pitched Vasco over her head. He landed on the ground with a loud series of clanks—and some very nasty sensations in his muscles—and managed to get his visor up in time to see her galloping off over the crest of the nearest hill.
He cursed. Luis and Jaume came running and helped him to his feet. The breast plate was dented and he felt pretty dinged, as well.
“You okay?”
“Still alive in here, I think. We need to catch her before she trips on the reins.” He peeled off the armor and they spend most of the next hour following Tinto’s trail until they caught up with her grazing quietly under an oak in a disused sheep pen. She had a small cut to one of her legs, so they led her back quietly and bandaged her up.
“Guess I’d better ride one of my other faithful steeds.” He had enough bruises for one day. He changed into different clothes, this time a Chevalier costume he wore for parties sometimes. With the ring safely in the new pocket, he went and mounted his trusty Kawasaki. Not quite as romantic as a horse, but much more predictable. Within minutes he rode up to the entrance of Castell Blanc, propped his bike, and launched into song.
The roar of an engine made Stella look up from her sewing. It sounded like a motorcycle engine. Her heart started to rev and she put down her needle and moved to the window. The first strains of a male voice—singing—stopped her in her tracks.
Powerful and haunting, the raw music stole in through the open window and rooted her to the spot. Was it Vasco?
She stepped forward and peered gingerly outside. Her eyes widened as she looked down on Vasco dressed in embroidered silk breeches like a character from a Cervantes story. Windswept and rugged as usual, and with his dark motorcycle only a few feet away, he looked impossibly masculine in the ornate costume.
But his voice… Deep and rich, it wrapped around the unfamiliar Catalan words and filled the air. Sound reverberated off the stone facade of the house and bounced back to the surrounding hills, growing and swelling around them.
“Oh, Vasco.” She said it quietly, to herself. Just when she thought he couldn’t be any more outrageous or adorable, he pulled some new stunt like this. Her heart squeezed and she wanted nothing more than to run into his arms.
Resisting that impulse, she had a sudden urge to show Nicky the fantastical vision of his father singing like an ancient troubador, then she remembered he was still at the palace with his aunts. Vasco was singing for her alone.
As she listened, she could make out a few of the words. Impassioned and heartfelt, the song seemed to tell of a heartbroken man who’d lost his true love and would never see her again. Tears almost rose in her eyes, not because of the lyrics, but because of the raw emotion in Vasco’s melodious voice. Could he do everything? It didn’t seem fair. How was anyone supposed to stand a chance around him?
He’d spotted her at the window, and even from the second floor she could see his eyes light up as he launched into another verse. Her own heart beat faster and excitement swelled in her chest. She soon found herself leaning out the casement window to fully enjoy the rapturous sound. Even a cappella, Vasco gave off more energy and intent than an entire orchestra of professional musicians.
And he was doing it all for her.
As a way to get into a woman’s underwear, she had to recommend it. Right now she had chills and hot flashes going on at the same time. Still, she had to remain strong. This was about the rest of her life here, not some steamy afternoon scandalizing the housekeeper and her husband while their boss was away.
Tempting as that seemed.
Vasco reached the end of the song and made a dramatic bow and flourish. Stella clapped and couldn’t help smiling. “Beautiful,” she murmured, not even loud enough for him to hear.
“Would you do me the honor of coming to the door?” His courtly attitude amused and pleased her. Normally he’d just storm through the door without asking.
She nodded, and hurried away, pulse pounding. She dashed down the steps, telling herself over and over again to be strong. Don’t fall into his arms. Just say hello and tell him he’s a good singer.
“Hi,” was the best she could manage, with a goofy grin, when she pulled open the front door to greet her dashing cavalier.
Vasco immediately got down on one knee and bowed his head. Stella froze. He reached into his pocket and fumbled for a moment, then pulled out a ring.
She almost fell down the steps. Surely he wasn’t…?
He raised his head, and his gray eyes met hers with intensity that felt like a punch to the stomach. “Stella, I love you. I’ve thought about nothing but you since the moment I heard you were gone. I’m miserable without you and I know with agonizing certainty that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
She stood rooted to the spot. Was she dreaming? She wanted to pinch herself but couldn
’t seem to move.
Vasco’s gaze searched hers. She could swear she even saw a trace of anxiety cross his handsome face. He held out the ring a little farther. “Please Stella, be my wife.”
“Yes.” The word fled her lips without any permission from her brain. Why had she said that? His sudden change of heart was shocking and not entirely convincing. Still…
Vasco rose and slid the ring on her finger. The metal felt cool and sensual on her skin. He kissed her hand with deliberate passion, eyes closed. Then, face taut with emotion, he took her in his arms and pressed his lips to hers.
Her body went limp under the force of his kiss. If he weren’t holding her close she’d have fallen to the ground. The whole situation was too amazing to be real.
When they finally pulled apart she looked down at his elaborate and historically accurate costume. Her doubts crowded back over her. “Is this a scene from a play that you’re acting?”
“No, the words and emotions are entirely my own.”
She frowned. “But yesterday you said…”
“Yesterday was an age ago. I had all night to contemplate the prospect of living without you and to realize how miserable I’d be if I lost you.” His eyes shone with conviction that echoed deep inside her. “I’ve behaved like a spoiled child who wants to have everything his way, and ignore the feelings of others. Nicky needs a father who’s a family man.” He lifted his chin proudly.
Stella hesitated for a moment. “You’re marrying me so that Nicky can have a proper family.” An official marriage, without emotion. Something that looked good on paper, like all the Montmajor marriages before it. Her stomach tightened.
He took her hand, the one with the ring. “I said I love you and I mean it. You should know me well enough to understand that I’d never marry simply out of duty. I made it clear from the beginning that was out of the question.” He paused and looked down for a moment, before his eyes fixed on hers with a penetrating stare. “It took some soul-searching to realize that what I feel for you has nothing to do with duty, or responsibilities, or anything else other than the joy I feel when I’m with you.”
A strange warm sensation rose inside her. “I love you, too.” It was a sweet release to let the truth out. “I think I’ve loved you almost from the start, when you showed up on my doorstep demanding a place in your son’s life and unwilling to take no for an answer.”
“Guess I’m lucky you didn’t boot me out on my ear.” He grinned.
“Well, I did try, but you’re not easy to get rid of.” She smiled, too. “And I’m glad of that, now.” She glanced down at the ring. It was unusual, with an ornate tooled gold setting, and the stone was a bright blue sapphire rather than the more conventional diamond. “Is this an old ring from your family?”
Vasco faked a shudder. “No way. I don’t want us following down their dreary path in marriage. I had it flown in from Barcelona overnight. Given your love of history I thought you might like something dramatic and historical looking, rather than an ordinary diamond solitaire like everyone else.”
“You’re so right. I adore it.” The clear blue stone reflected the bright sky above.
“The stone was mined by my company in Madagascar, and I had it tooled by my favorite jeweler. I bet if you look closely enough you can see the whole universe in there.”
She lifted the ring. It sparkled with astonishing brilliance and drew her eye to its depths. “I’ve never seen anything like it. I keep forgetting that you have a whole company out there in addition to being king.”
“Comes in useful at times like this.”
“And you’re the type of person who needs to keep busy.”
“Like yourself. I don’t see you wanting to sit around all day staring out the window. Still, I do think you should be restoring the royal collection rather than a few tatty old novels here at Castell Blanc.” His dimples showed as he made a dismissive gesture at the house behind her.
“Mr. Mayoral has a wonderful collection. Not as large as yours, of course, but every bit as distinguished in its own way.” She smiled. “Still, I admit that I miss the lovely palace library. There isn’t enough room for me to set up my tools in the library here so I have to bring the books into a spare bedroom.”
Vasco looked pleased. “Perhaps you can bring his books to the palace to work on, if you still want to restore them.”
“Maybe I will.” Her muscles tingled with excitement at the thought of moving back to the beautiful palace with Nicky. It must be almost time to go pick him up.
Except that she didn’t have to pick him up. The thought struck her hard and she glanced at her ring just to check again that she wasn’t dreaming. “Are we really getting married?”
“You still don’t believe me?” He stroked her chin, humor in his eyes.
“I want to, it’s just a bit much for me.”
“We’re one hundred percent absolutely definitely getting married. As soon as possible. Today would be fine, in fact.”
“Today?” She glanced down at her jeans and plain blue shirt.
“Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or next month. I’ll leave it entirely up to you. It depends on what kind of wedding you’d like to have. I vote for big and fancy with everyone we’ve ever met in attendance.” His teeth gleamed as he smiled. “Just so they know we really mean it.”
She laughed. “You know, you might have a point there. A big, fancy, over-the-top royal wedding with all the trimmings would give the paparazzi what they’re looking for, and then maybe they’ll leave us in peace.”
“Never happen.” He grinned.
“Oh, well. Maybe we should seize some peace right now.” She glanced back at the house. A week and a half of abstinence from Vasco’s lovemaking was catching up with her. His intoxicating male presence, especially in the dashing musketeer outfit, made her want to rip his clothes off right there. “Would you care to come inside?”
Her courtly invitation made him laugh. “I certainly would. I’m so glad I’m now permitted entry.”
“We’d better not tell Mr. Mayoral about what we’re about to do.”
He raised a brow. “My lips are sealed. And I can’t wait to find out what we are about to do.”
Twelve
The carriage wheels rattled over the ancient cobbled streets as crowds cheered the wedding procession. Stella didn’t need to worry about smiling for all the people watching. She’d had a grin plastered to her face all morning.
“I’m amazed the horses aren’t spooked by all the helicopters.” A fleet of them had hovered overhead since dawn, filming the wedding party as they emerged from the cathedral, and the long, colorful procession as it wound through the streets of Montmajor.
“They’re used to them.” Vasco beamed, as well. “Much less scary than a man in a suit of armor.”
“Suits of armor seem to be a theme in our relationship.” She murmured the words in his ear.
“So true. We’ll have to get the horses acclimatized to them so we can try jousting.” His arm rested around her waist and he pulled her closer. Arousal sizzled through her. How long would it be until they were alone again? The aunts had hovered over them all morning, and hairdressers and dressmakers had fussed and prodded and poked her until she was ready to scream. Now it was torture being right next to Vasco—in full view of the entire world.
Nicky sat opposite them in the carriage, with aunt Lilli holding tightly to the sash of his waistcoat to prevent him from jumping out into the throng. He even waved along with the grownups, and people called out “Hola, Nicky!” as he passed, much to his delight.
At last the carriage pulled up at the palace, where preparations were underway for the biggest party in Europe. Friends and family and thousands of diplomats and dignitaries had flown in from all over the world. Every room in the palace had been pressed into service as accommodation, and guests were billeted throughout the town.
A red carpet of rose petals covered the ground between where the carriage stopped and their en
trance to the palace, and their sweet scent filled the air. A hundred white doves flapped and pecked around the petals and gravel and glided silently overhead. “Why don’t they just fly away?” Stella whispered, as she alighted from the carriage and looked around her in awe.
“They prefer caviar on toast to grubbing for insects.” Vasco grinned and waved to the assembled palace staff, who launched into some ancient Montmajorian greeting, half spoken, half sung. Vasco led her into the castle. Her lush ivory dress had a train nearly fifty feet long, and the six little train-bearers—boys of only seven or eight—rushed forward to gather and lift it behind her.
“I really do feel like a queen in this getup.” She smiled at their serious expressions.
“You look like one.” Vasco kissed her hand. “A coronet suits you.” The tiny crown, tipped with rubies, was pinned to her elaborate hairstyle. If anyone had ever told her she’d wear an outfit this outrageous to any occasion, she’d have laughed, but the palace staff and wedding planners had snuck each detail in gradually until it was far too late to protest. Vasco simply laughed and said that if people enjoyed a bit of pomp and ceremony, why not give it to them?
Vasco himself was in a rather dashing getup that made him look like a nineteenth-century cavalryman. It even had tall shiny boots and acres of gold braid. His hair, of course, still looked windblown and wild, which only made him even more gorgeous. She could imagine women all over the world sighing and smiling as they looked at the pictures, and wishing they were her.
And who wouldn’t?
Vasco lifted Nicky into his arms, and she squinted against the glare of flashbulbs. There seemed to be an insatiable appetite for pictures of Europe’s most eligible bachelor as a family man. She hadn’t told anyone that Nicky was conceived in a lab. It didn’t seem relevant now they’d long since made up for the lack of sex during his conception.
Her skin tingled as Vasco took her hand and led her into the grand ballroom. A large glass fountain in the middle of the room bubbled with champagne. A waiter scooped two slender glasses of it for her and Vasco, and they turned to face the crowds—and yet more media—to raise a toast to their marriage.
Claiming His Royal Heir Page 14
