“No,” Pietro said starkly. “The prince won’t be returning.”
“I…see.” She didn’t, but it was difficult to concentrate. Slowly she sat back down, and fiercely clenched her hands together.
He claimed the chair the prince had vacated, and leaned forward slightly. “You were correct when you said I lied,” he said after a tension-filled moment.
Priscilla frowned, thinking he was about to apologize for some sin. She looked away, not having the heart for this. “It doesn’t matter, Pietro.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. It does matter. You’re right, I love you, and little in this world would make me happier than for you to be my wife.”
Nothing he might have said could have shocked or outraged her more. “You love me!”
“That’s what I just said.” He was smiling and his eyes sparked with happiness.
“You love me and…and yet you were willing to let me walk out of your life?”
“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “Although I swear by all that is holy, it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.”
“But why? Because you believed Stefano was in love with me? That’s ridiculous and we both know it.”
“Priscilla,” he said gently, coming off the chair. He got down on one knee before her, and captured both her hands in his. “We can argue about my foolishness for many years to come if you wish. For now, all I need is your answer to my proposal. Will you be my wife?”
It greatly perturbed Priscilla that at the most important moment of her life tears would fill her eyes and blur out Pietro’s face. She wiped the moisture from her face and sniffled. “There’s something you should know first.”
“Yes?”
“I…I have ugly feet.”
Pietro burst out laughing, which was not what she’d intended for him to do. She was serious. She didn’t object, however, when his arms circled her waist and he kissed her with a hunger and longing that matched her own.
“Pietro,” she whispered between kisses, “you’re a fool.”
“Never again, my love, never again.”
Chapter Ten
STEFANO FOUND A CERTAIN SOLACE in his homeland. One that helped ease the ache in his heart. He didn’t expect the longing for Hope to fade completely, and so he savored the memories of her and the all-too-short time they’d shared. Like a young boy who buries a secret treasure, Stefano clung to the memory of Hope Jordan, the woman who’d stolen his heart.
The entire country of San Lorenzo was abloom in mid-August. Although Stefano tried not to think about Hope, he found her creeping uninvited into his dreams. She came to him a vision of warmth and beauty in his sleep, when his defenses were lowered and he hadn’t the strength of will to resist.
Almost always they were at Hurricane Ridge, as they’d been the last time they were together. She’d collect a bouquet of wildflowers to bring to him, her face bright with love, her eyes filled with promises he’d never collect.
Although Stefano had vowed never to contact her again, he’d hired a detective agency to report back to him with their findings. It was vital that he learn she was getting on with her life and that she was happy.
From what he’d learned, that was true. Hope’s coffee delivery business was thriving, and the last and final report he’d received said that she was dating. Stefano had suffered the agonies of the damned, wondering about the young man she was seeing.
The prince hadn’t returned to Seattle for Pietro’s wedding to Priscilla Rutherford. The temptation to see Hope would have been far too strong, and he’d given her his word that he would forever stay out of her life. He’d honored his promise, but at a costly price.
Priscilla and Pietro’s wedding was said to have been the social event of the year. Dignitaries from around the world had attended the festivities. From what the prince understood, the happy couple were honeymooning in Australia. Stefano wished the two every happiness.
“Your Highness.” His newly hired assistant, Peter Hiat, timidly interrupted him. “Mr. Myers is here to see you.”
“Ah, yes,” Stefano said. “Please show him in.”
Stefano stood at his desk while the other man was escorted into his private office. He’d met briefly with Steven Myers shortly before he left Seattle. Myers’s purpose had to do with a proposal from the United States government regarding leasing land in San Lorenzo. Because of the emotional upheaval of those last hours in Seattle, Stefano had suggested the State Department contact him again, after he’d returned home.
When Stefano didn’t hear immediately back again, he had assumed the project was no longer of any interest to the United States.
“Prince Stefano,” Steven Myers said as he walked into the office. “I appreciate your time.”
“Please sit down.” He gestured toward the chair.
Myers sat and lifted a briefcase onto his lap. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“The pleasure is mine. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve come to make San Lorenzo an offer you can’t refuse,” Myers said with a broad smile.
Four hours later, Stefano felt as though he were walking on air. The United States, whom Myers reminded him, had always been San Lorenzo’s friend, had come seeking a favor. They were looking to establish an air base in San Lorenzo. The government of the United States was offering his country more money than Stefano had ever dreamed possible. Naturally, the decision wasn’t his to make alone, but the positive side of the proposal far outweighed the negative. All it would take was a simple parliamentary vote to gain approval.
His country was saved.
Once the relief hit him, Stefano’s first thought was to contact Hope and ask her to be his bride. His princess. He loved and needed her.
Then he remembered his promise to stay out of her life forever. Already she’d found another. Already she had forgotten him.
“So,” Lindy said, slumping into a chair, “you going out with Cliff again this evening?”
“I wish you wouldn’t make it sound like he’s the love of my life. He’s my cousin,” Hope explained for the tenth time that day.
“I know you’re related,” Lindy said, biting into one of her own low-fat muffins, “but getting out again has done you a world of good. I’ve been worried about you lately.”
This was territory Hope didn’t want to traverse. Not with her friend. Especially since her own mother had been treating her as though she had a case of the measles instead of a broken heart.
Hazel and her mother’s other friends were equally certain their efforts would aid Hope’s recovery. They brought her jars of freshly pickled corn relish, in addition to working on a Hope chest, filling it with items she’d need when she found “that special man” who would make her forget all about Prince Stefano.
As much as she loved them all, Hope felt smothered. When Cliff, a distant cousin on her father’s side, arrived in town, she leapt at the opportunity to break away from the condolences being heaped upon her, and spend some time with him.
“Has Cliff found an apartment yet?” Lindy asked, carefully peeling the paper bottom off the muffin.
“I helped him move this weekend.”
“Ah.” Lindy’s eyes avoided hers.
“What makes you ask?” Hope inquired.
Briefly, Lindy looked up and then shrugged. “No reason.”
“He enjoyed the apple pie you sent over.”
“He did?” Lindy’s gaze widened. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Hope laughed and propped her feet on the seat of the chair opposite her. “I wanted to see how long it would take you to ask.”
“Hope! That’s cruel.”
“He asked about you, too.”
“He did?”
“Yep, but I told him to look for greener pastures.”
“Hope, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t!”
Hope laughed. “I didn’t. In fact, I gave him your phone number and he told me he’d be calling you this evening.”
>
“He only met me the one time” Lindy’s hands nervously set aside the muffin.
“You made quite an impression on him. Then again, it might have been the apple pie,” she said, giggling. It felt good to laugh again. She hadn’t had much reason to laugh of late, but she was learning.
The bell above the door to the coffee shop sounded and Hope plopped her feet onto the floor. “I’ll get that,” she mumbled. This was the first break Lindy had taken all morning, and Hope didn’t want her friend to wait on walk-in customers. Not when the kitchen demanded so much of her time.
“Hello,” Hope greeted the smiling young woman. She looked vaguely familiar, but Hope couldn’t place her. “Can I get you something?”
“You don’t know me,” the other woman said, extending her hand. “I’m Priscilla Rutherford—or rather, that was my name. I recently married Pietro. You know him as Prince Stefano’s secretary.”
Hope’s body froze. Not now, she silently begged. Please not now. Not when I’m just getting my life back together. Not when I’ve convinced myself I can be happy without him.
“How can I help you?” she asked once more, stiffly this time, protecting her heart as best she could.
Priscilla smiled gently. “You can’t. Pietro and I are here to help you.”
Three weeks following their marriage, Pietro and Priscilla arrived home at the palace.
“Pietro,” Stefano shouted when he first saw his friend. He rose from behind his desk and the two men exchanged hearty hugs. Stefano briefly kissed Priscilla’s cheek. It amazed him how radiantly beautiful the heiress looked. Apparently, married life agreed with them both. Pietro had never looked better.
“I thought you two were on your honeymoon,” he said, ringing for the footman, and ordering a tray of coffee to be sent up.
“We cut it short,” Pietro explained. Husband and wife sat next to each other, holding hands. “We read about the agreement between San Lorenzo and the United States,” Pietro explained. “It made the Australia newspapers. It’s true isn’t it, about the air base?”
“Yes.” Stefano beamed Pietro a smile. “We’re more than pleased. The parliament voted on the proposal in record time, and construction is scheduled to begin on the project after the first of the month.”
“Congratulations.”
“I’m grateful for the turn of events.” Which was an understatement only Pietro could fully appreciate.
“What about the wedding?”
Stefano stared at his friend. “Wedding? Whose wedding?”
“Pietro,” Priscilla said softly, casting a disapproving glance toward her husband, “you’re going to ruin the surprise.”
“Surprise?” Stefano was beginning to feel like a parrot, repeating everything said.
“We brought you back something from our honeymoon,” Pietro explained. “Would you like to see it?”
“In a minute,” Stefano said. He was more eager to talk to the two. He’d deeply missed his friend. His newly hired secretary was efficient and organized, but he lacked Pietro’s skill in several areas, the least of which was the sword. It’d been weeks since Stefano had been challenged. Never had he felt more alone than in the past month without Pietro at his side.
“Tell me about the wedding,” Stefano instructed.
The footman delivered a silver tray with a pot of coffee and three cups. Priscilla poured, while chatting.
“First off, Mother and I had quite a discussion. She wanted a wedding that would rival something coming out of Buckingham Palace.”
“It didn’t help matters,” Pietro said, smiling at his wife, “that you had me knighted before the wedding. Elizabeth felt that if Priscilla was going to marry a knight, she should have a wedding fit for a queen.”
“Despite everything, the wedding was lovely,” Priscilla assured him.
“We missed you, however,” Pietro said.
“My mother was convinced you didn’t attend the wedding because I’d broken your heart by choosing Pietro over you.”
“That’s very nearly true,” Stefano returned, and shared a secret smile with his former secretary. “Now, what is it you’re so eager to show me?”
“Shall we make him close his eyes?” Priscilla asked her husband.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Pietro stood and walked over to the large double door and disappeared momentarily. When he returned, Stefano was convinced he’d lost his mind—he couldn’t believe what he saw.
Hope Jordan stepped into the room and smiled serenely at him.
“Hope.” He rasped her name as if he were saying a prayer, pleading to the powers on high.
“Hello, Stefano.”
He couldn’t believe how lovely she was. Had he forgotten so much about her, so soon? It was as though she were a vision, a figment of his imagination.
“You might want to ask her to sit down,” Pietro prodded.
“Of course. Forgive me.”
“Pietro, don’t you think we should leave these two alone for a few minutes?” The sound of Priscilla’s voice drifted to Stefano but it seemed as if it were coming from a great distance.
“I suppose We’ll be waiting in the rose garden,” Pietro said as he followed his new bride out the door. Stefano barely heard his friend.
Each one of his senses was centered on Hope. “I wasn’t sure I should corne,” she said, and for the first time he realized she was ill at ease.
“Not come?” He sat across from her.
“I wasn’t sure your feelings for me hadn’t changed.”
“They haven’t. You hold my heart in the palm of your hand. You always will.”
She lowered her head and he noted the nervous way in which she nibbled at her lower lip. “You didn’t contact me. Not even after you learned about the air base. I’d never have come to San Lorenzo if it hadn’t been for Pietro and Priscilla.”
“I’d given you my word of honor that I’d never see you again.”
“But that was when you were planning to marry Priscilla Rutherford. That was when there was no future for the two of us. I thought…when I learned about the air base, what else could I think but that…well, that I’d been a passing fancy who’d amused you while you were in Seattle.”
“Hope, no. Never that.” He’d hurt her so much already, knowing he’d caused her additional pain brought a surge of bitter regret.
“Then why didn’t you come for me?”
It wasn’t easy to admit what he’d done. “I learned you were dating, and felt it was best to let you get on with your life. I’d hurt you already.”
“You learned I was dating! Who told you that?” She sounded agitated, as well she should.
“I’m not proud of this…but you need to understand my state of mind. I hired a detective agency to check up on you.” He drew in a deep breath and held it for fear she’d never forgive him for invading her privacy. “I had to know that you were well…I couldn’t have gone on without that peace of mind.”
“Oh, Stefano…”
He couldn’t resist holding her a moment longer. He gathered her in his arms and absorbed the feel of her, her softness, her gentleness. Her love. For weeks Stefano had felt as if he were adrift on a wide ocean with no land in sight. He’d suffered deeply, believing Hope had found another man. He’d been torn in different directions, seeking her happiness above his own.
They kissed and it was as it had always been between them. Soon his hands were in her hair and he was drinking in the taste of her, the feel of her.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me again,” Hope asked.
“On one condition.” He kissed her, not giving her time to respond for a long, long time.
“Anything you ask,” she said with a sigh between deep, slow kisses.
“Marry me. Stand by my side the rest of my life. Be my Princess.”
“I’ll need to think about it,” she whispered. Stefano lifted his head, surprised by her response. She smiled up at him, wove her fingers into his thick
hair and laughed softly, before bringing his mouth back to hers. “I thought about it.”
“And?” With a great deal of restraint, he held his lips a mere inch away from hers.
“And, the answer’s yes. A thousand times yes.”
Stefano let out a triumphant cry, wrapped his arms around Hope’s waist and whirled her around. It was a fitting gesture, since she’d sent his world spinning from the first moment he’d seen her. He had a sneaking suspicion this was one joyride that was never going to end. The bachelor prince had met his match. His mate for a lifetime.
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Debbie Macomber is a number one New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author. Her books include 1225 Christmas Tree Lane, 1105 Yakima Street, A Turn in the Road, Hannah’s List and Debbie Macomber’s Christmas Cookbook, as well as Twenty Wishes, Summer on Blossom Street and Call Me Mrs. Miracle. She has become a leading voice in women’s fiction worldwide and her work has appeared on every major bestseller list, including those of the New York Times, USA TODAY, Publishers Weekly and Entertainment Weekly. She is a multiple award winner, and won the 2005 Quill Award for Best Romance. There are more than 100 million copies of her books in print. Two of her MIRA Christmas titles have been made into Hallmark Channel Original Movies, and the Hallmark Channel has recently launched a series based on her bestselling Cedar Cove series. For more information on Debbie and her books, visit her website, www.DebbieMacomber.com.
ISBN: 978-1-4603-1450-0
The Bachelor Prince
Copyright © 1994 by Debbie Macomber
The Bachelor Prince Page 14
