The Secret That Shocked De Santis

by Natalie Anderson

  He knew she wanted to be the best, most ‘there’ mother she could, and he had no doubt that she would be, but he suspected she missed flexing other muscles as well. Attending art exhibition openings with him wasn’t going to be enough for her. She needed options.

  ‘Of course. Just one or two classes a week, and she can do them more or less as and when she likes. She was always our fittest female recruit. Beat more than half the men.’

  ‘The strongest of the lot.’ Eduardo smiled smugly. And the most determined.

  ‘You know her quite well, then?’ The General actually winked.

  ‘Getting there.’ He was going to need the rest of his life to really get to know her.

  ‘Don’t think you’re going to make plans for my future without letting me have a say in it.’

  A cool voice from the corner made Eduardo turn back towards the bed. His heart soared when he saw the glint in Stella’s eyes.

  ‘You’re awake.’ He stated the obvious with the smile she always pulled from him—from the deepest corner of his heart.

  ‘Of course I am,’ she answered sweetly. ‘I’ve been awake the last five minutes, eavesdropping on you two cooing over our baby.’

  Even her father let out a rare laugh. ‘Then you know I’m late getting back to my office already.’

  ‘Shocking behaviour for a general,’ she admonished him. ‘But utterly appropriate for a father and brand-new grandfather.’

  Eduardo glanced at the older man and saw the softness in his eyes. And the concern.

  ‘Now I’ve seen you awake and well...’ her father began.

  ‘I’m fine, Dad. Stand down. Go.’ She reassured him and released him, with a smile that held just a hint of vulnerability. ‘I love you,’ she said softly.

  ‘I love you too,’ her father mumbled, gruff and swift, and he was out of the room before he’d even finished the garbled words.

  With a chuckle, Eduardo carried his daughter over to her mother. ‘He’s getting better at it,’ he teased. ‘And so are you.’

  That she’d gone through most of her life without being told that she was loved still broke his heart. So he made it his business to tell her every day. Several times a day. And he liked to show her too—every way he could think of.

  ‘I’m making him practise all the time.’ Stella glanced from the door her father had just walked out of back to him. ‘Eventually it’ll come naturally, right?’

  That was his Stella. Brave and honest and always trying so very hard.

  ‘He dotes on his granddaughter already.’ Eduardo carefully passed their sleeping baby to her. ‘I had to prise her from his arms before.’

  ‘Really?’

  A happy glow lit her eyes, making the blue that touch more vibrant. He could look into those eyes for ever.

  ‘You’re not just finessing that?’

  He shook his head. ‘He adores her. Just as he adores you.’ He kissed her. ‘Just as I adore you.’

  He sat back and drank in the sight of Stella cradling their stirring baby. Loved and loving, she was indescribably beautiful.

  ‘Antonio had to leave a while ago.’ He cleared the huskiness from his throat. ‘An issue has come up.’

  ‘Of course.’ Stella half-sighed, half-laughed. ‘I wish he wasn’t so alone. It doesn’t seem fair when we have everything.’

  ‘We’re here for him,’ Eduardo muttered. ‘A whole little back-up team now. You never know. He might even loosen up and hold her one day.’

  Stella adjusted her robe to nurse her daughter, unable to believe that this tiny piece of perfection was hers. That she and Eduardo had created her.

  Princess Sapphira Rose Alessia was almost twelve hours old. They’d named her for the stone that symbolised so much for them, and to break with the tradition that she’d been born into. Sapphira would be herself. And then, out of love, they’d honoured Stella’s mother, Rose, and Antonio’s fiancée, Alessia.

  Crown Prince Antonio had taken that news with the tiniest flicker of tension in one eyelid—which Stella had taken to mean that he was deeply touched. He’d just never show it more than that.

  In the six months since she’d married Eduardo her life had been transformed. They’d shared so much. She’d gone to every royal engagement of his that she could—both official and unofficial. He’d trained with her, helping her adjust her activities as her pregnancy had progressed. And he’d gone to every medical appointment with her. They’d talked through secrets and fears, they’d joked and battled in board games, they’d sailed and swum...and they had become more than a partnership. They’d become a force.

  Yet even now she struggled to believe she was married to this most gorgeous man, who was arrogant and kind and impulsive and so loving.

  When the tiny Princess had fallen asleep again he took her and settled her in the beautiful bassinet. Stella’s eyes filled as she looked at the tall, loyal man who was such a loving father to their child. And a tender, wicked lover to her.

  He turned and caught her emotional moment. In a heartbeat he was beside her, pulling her into his arms, drawing her to rest her head on his shoulder. Her heart melted all over again.

  ‘Heaven on earth,’ she mumbled, and felt his grunt of amusement.

  ‘Despite the aches and pains?’

  ‘She was worth it.’ She laced her fingers through his, remembering Eduardo’s anxiety when she’d gone into labour.

  ‘It happened so fast. I was scared,’ Eduardo said huskily.

  ‘Like our marriage.’ She gave a watery-eyed chuckle. ‘It must be in the blood—she’ll be just like you. A pirate princess, swooping in and taking what she wants like that.’ She snapped her fingers.

  ‘As if you don’t do exactly the same.’ He smiled back. ‘She may still be the Crown Princess one day,’ Eduardo added, a touch of apology in his tone.

  ‘Maybe.’ Stella nodded. Given Antonio’s frozen heart, it seemed likely. ‘But she’ll definitely be queen of her own destiny.’

  With a laugh Eduardo leaned forward and kissed her. She kissed him back so ardently he groaned. ‘How soon till I can take you both home?’

  ‘My pirate has no patience,’ she teased, but she was pleased.

  ‘Do you blame me for wanting to hoard my precious treasure and keep it all to myself?’

  He was never going to be able to do that—at least, not for long. There’d be photo calls and royal duty and responsibility soon enough. But there would also be their tiny island to escape to, with its beautiful palace and its secret cave and the wealth of treasures that both contained—the memories they’d already made and the moments that were yet to come.

  Stella gazed at her husband and that old familiar tightness gripped her throat. But she pushed past it anyway. ‘I love you. Beyond words. Beyond everything.’

  ‘I love you too.’

  He cupped her face tenderly and gave her a look that told her everything she’d always wanted to hear: that she had everything she’d wanted to have.

  ‘For ever and always.’

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from REQUIRED TO WEAR THE TYCOON’S RING by Maggie Cox.

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  Required to Wear the Tycoon’s Ring

  by Maggie Cox

  CHAPTER ONE

  It doesn’t matter how long it takes... I’ll wait for you. No one is going to keep us apart. There’s nobody else on this earth for me but you. You’re the only one who can calm the lightning in my soul and help me find peace. If you ever doubt the strength of my love I want you to know that I love you more than life itself and always will...

  IMOGEN READ THE words and it was as though they bled onto the page, such was the impact they conveyed. The depth and power of the sentiment pierced her heart, and something inside, something that had been tight and unyielding for so long, started to melt and unravel... Before she could stop it a stinging hot tear splashed down onto the once tightly folded piece of notepaper in her hand.

  In her spare time she often browsed the charity shop shelves in the hope that she might find something new or interesting. The note she was reading had been carefully inserted inside the anthology of a well-known romance poet. As she’d flicked through the well-thumbed pages the unexpected addition had spilled out and revealed itself. The note had landed at her feet.

  There was no indication of the writer’s name, just the initials SB. Was the writer male or female? she wondered. All Imogen knew was that the poignant promise ‘I’ll wait for you’ had her longing to experience being loved so deeply that she would never have cause to doubt that she was cared for.

  Her recent excoriating experience of being jilted at the altar had almost entirely crushed any hope she had that there were men out there who were genuinely loving and considerate. Yet in a secret corner somewhere Imogen refused to relinquish that hope. Had the note’s writer reconciled with his or her lover after whatever had torn them apart? she mused.

  With a trembling sigh, she momentarily shut her eyes. It wasn’t easy to deal with the tumult of the feelings that rolled through her. Sometimes they threatened to spill over and undermine what little confidence she had left.

  She’d never experienced such loving devotion and she longed to. If only she could discover whether or not things had worked out well for the couple... It would mean so much to her if they had. She wanted evidence that hopes and dreams could be fulfilled and that true love could last so long as the lovers drew breath...

  She made a resolve. Suddenly impatient, she finished her browsing. Carefully reinserting the note inside the book, she moved across to the cashier to pay.

  The cheerful elderly assistant smelled liberally of lavender, and her pristine white blouse was perfectly ironed and starched, as though she wouldn’t dream of leaving the house unless it was.

  As she surveyed Imogen her face crinkled in a welcoming smile, just as if she was a trusted old friend. ‘Found something nice, have you, dear?’

  ‘Yes. I have. I’d like to buy this book,’ she replied.

  When the sale had been rung up on the till the woman put the purchase into a crumpled carrier bag.

  After murmuring, ‘Thanks...’ as she took it, Imogen asked, ‘By the way, can I ask if you know who donated the book? Only I was in here a couple of days ago and I didn’t notice it on the shelves then...’

  ‘I can’t tell you who donated it, my dear, but I do know that my colleague took a delivery of books from the big house up on the hill yesterday. You must know the one I’m talking about—that splendid Gothic mansion that backs onto the woods? Evergreen, I think it’s called. It used to belong to the Siddons family, but they’re long gone now. I think there’s somebody looking after the place but no one knows who. There’s a rumour that it’s been bought by some business corporation to use for staff training... You can always enquire. Does that help?’

  Although Imogen smiled, the expression didn’t come as easily to her as it had used to. She was sad about that. What she wouldn’t give to return to the land of the living, with her heart whole again and the optimism she’d always managed to somehow find well and truly restored.

  Clutching the carrier bag against the black bouclé jacket she’d discovered in another charity shop, she said, ‘It does. Thanks for the tip.’ Glancing across at the shop’s thick glass doors, she added, ‘Have a good day... It looks like the sun might come out if we’re lucky.’

  ‘It does, doesn’t it? But it probably won’t shine on us for very long. Still, I hope that won’t spoil things for you. Perhaps reading some of those wonderful poems will help?’

  As she walked back to the small flat she rented in a Victorian mid-terrace down a narrow side street, her route took her across the city’s historic cobblestones, and Imogen automatically glanced towards the formidable cathedral that rose up before her. It was a real Mecca for tourists, but personally she found it intimidating.

  To her eyes it spoke of too many spirits not at peace. She’d only explored it once, and it hadn’t invited her for a second visit. If a person was hoping for comfort, would they honestly find it within those oppressive ancient walls? Somehow Imogen didn’t think so.

  The wind that was now gusting in earnest blew her hair haphazardly across her face. With a shudder she sensed an icy chill run down her back. So much for that promising glimpse of sunshine earlier! Winter was definitely starting to make itself felt. She couldn’t wait to get back inside, light the wood burner and examine her book. Who knew? There might even be some further evidence about the identity of the original owner.

  If there wasn’t, she would love to dig a little deeper and find out. But even if she found the person, she realised that being confronted with such a note might potentially elicit some kind of unsettling repercussions for the person concerned. Her sigh was heavy. The story behind the poignant note was perhaps consuming her thoughts much more than it ought to...

  * * *

  Seth sat himself down on the wide mahogany staircase with its faded gold-trimmed runner and stared around him. The ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hall hypnotically marked the time, taunting him with the memories it scratched, as if he had deliberately dug his nails into an old, once infected wound and reopened it.

  He had plenty of cause for being disturbed. The first time he had entered this house as a lad of nineteen he’d been full of trepidation at the thought of meeting his girlfriend’s intimidating father because he was going to ask for her hand in marriage. The esteemed financier James Siddons had been known to put the fear of God even into his peers—let alone the hopeful boy from the wrong side of the tracks that Seth had once been.

  Although he and Louisa had only been seeing each other for a couple of months, they’d known from the very first moment that they were meant to be together. What they’d felt for each other had gone far deeper than simple attraction. But he had known the path they’d planned to take wasn’t going to be easy. She’d still been a student at the university, and Seth an apprentice car mechanic at a local dealership. Hardly of the material to render him acceptable to her est
eemed family.

  He’d had to garner every ounce of courage he had in him on the day of the meeting. And every one of his fervent hopes to make a good impression had been utterly dashed as soon as he’d laid eyes on the stern-faced banker. He’d barely even crossed the threshold before the man had very candidly expressed his dislike. And when Seth had bolted his courage to the floor, met his gaze eye to eye and confidently declared that he wanted to marry his daughter, he had been immediately shot down and put in his place.

  ‘Louisa knows perfectly well that families like ours marry into families from the same class, Mr Broden. And clearly you are not from that class, so there’s no sense in beating about the bush, is there? My advice to you is to stick with your own kind,’ Siddons had finished.

  ‘You’re not even giving him a chance!’ Louisa had burst out. ‘I love him. I want no one else. You have no right to put him down like that and make him feel small. Seth has nothing to be ashamed of. He came round to speak to you because he wanted to do things properly. We could just as easily have sneaked off and done the deed without telling you, but it was Seth who insisted we should do the right thing and be upfront about it.’

  Appalled, James Siddons had issued her with a warning glare. ‘I don’t know what you thought you were playing at by encouraging a “nobody” like him,’ he’d said. ‘You must know that one day you’ll have to marry someone suitable so that the family’s lineage can continue. You are the last Siddons in the line, Louisa, and that makes it even more important for you to choose your husband wisely. I insist that you bring this charade with this man to an end right now. If you don’t I will make sure that every penny of your allowance is frozen until such time as you do as I say.’

  That day—that bittersweet day when they had sought to get Louisa’s father’s approval to marry—the man had broken his daughter’s heart with his chillingly cold refusal. Seth would have done anything to spare her the disappointment and heartache that had followed, but his own heart had hardened like ice at James Siddons’s brutal reception.