“Thank you, Uncle Yuri. You don’t know what it means to me to have my family here.”
“Lucca’s a lucky man, but he already knows that.”
Alex smiled but didn’t respond.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes.”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s something wrong? You can tell me.”
“I’m a little nervous.”
“Today you’re going to become Lucca’s wife. His queen. You look like one. When we reach the cathedral, act like one. Lift your head high so that when everyone goes to bed tonight, they’ll feel good knowing their new king is in the very best of hands.”
Her uncle had a way of looking at life that was touching and oddly enough stiffened her backbone. She did have a role to play, albeit a much less important one. But she would do it and show Lucca she wasn’t a person to be pitied. She leaned forward and caught his hand to squeeze it.
The city, lined with the royal flags, swarmed with people craning their necks to get a look as the limousine climbed the winding streets. It looked like the whole world had turned out for the coronation. After they stopped in front of the cathedral, everything became a blur.
Once Alex was helped out of the backseat, someone handed her a bouquet of white roses. Her uncle lowered the front of the veil over her face. Then he held her arm and they ascended the steps while dozens of photographers recorded their progress. She could hear organ music. People called to her and shouted, “Alexandra!”
Until they entered the cathedral, Alex smiled and turned her head to oblige them. Down the long aisle they walked, flanked by hundreds of beautifully dressed guests who filled the nave. The archbishop manned the pulpit. On his right stood Lucca, as straight as a lance and heartbreakingly resplendent in his white coronation suit and crown. He wore the wide blue ribbon from shoulder to waist that proclaimed him the crown prince.
Alex could see him through her veil, but she kept her eyes on his chest. He stepped forward to take her hand from Yuri and seat her next to him. Next to them sat his mother and father in full ceremonial dress. Her uncle sat down by Regina.
The whole time the archbishop led them in prayer, Lucca kept hold of her right hand in a firm grip while she balanced the roses with her left. When it ended, Lucca had perforce to let go of her and take his place in the centuries-old chair reserved for former sovereigns.
Wasting no time, the archbishop performed the rites. First the blue band was replaced with a red one, then Lucca’s crown was exchanged for the larger crown that proclaimed him king. Following that process he gave his coronation speech in Italian. She only understood bits and pieces here and there. No matter how he’d hurt Alex, a feeling of such fierce pride and love for him swept over her she was afraid she couldn’t contain it.
When his crown was removed, that was the signal for Regina to take the roses so Alex could stand by Lucca. At this point the archbishop led them in the wedding ceremony. Lucca did his part in Italian. Alex had been coached by Rudy’s assistant so she knew when it came time to do her part in English. Despite Lucca’s lack of affection for her, the vow she was about to make poured straight from her heart.
“I, Alexandra Carlisle Grigory, promise before the Church and Heaven to give my love, loyalty and devotion to my sovereign majesty and husband, His Royal Highness Lucca Umberto Schiaparelli Vittorio the Fifth, King of Castelmare, so help me God.”
Lucca turned and lifted the veil with both hands. She kept her eyes level with his compelling mouth as he leaned closer. Inside the privacy of the lace hiding both their faces he whispered, “Why else would I have kidnapped you from the House of Savoy if I hadn’t been totally and irrevocably in love with you?”
Alex came close to fainting from shock.
“But you wouldn’t have believed love could happen that fast if I’d told you the truth. I used Sofia shamelessly to make you feel sorry for me because I wasn’t about to return to Castelmare without you. I’d have said or done anything to have you, so be kind to me, amore mio.”
The kiss he gave her was a husband’s kiss, hot with desire, bringing her to pulsating life so fast she started to weave and had to cling to the arms still holding up her veil. Outside the waves of ecstasy enveloping her body she heard the archbishop clear his throat.
“Lucca,” she gasped quietly.
“You’re my very heart. Tell me what I need to hear,” he begged, “or I swear, my life means nothing.”
“You know I love you. Now please—”
“Your word is my command, bellissima.”
He arranged the veil behind the tiara. She knew her face was scarlet, but as Lucca took hold of her hand, she remembered her uncle’s advice and held her head high. The organ began to play and everyone got to their feet.
Lucca’s thumb made provocative circles against her palm as they walked down the aisle. The moment they stepped outside the doors, she heard the cheers of the crowd.
“Viva il re! Viva Alexandra!”
The sound of church bells pealed sonorously over the city. But even louder were the fireworks shooting off inside her body as he kissed her again to the delight of their onlookers.
Together they descended the steps to the horse-drawn coach waiting at the bottom. As Lucca helped her inside, their eyes met. “We managed to stay upright, but don’t plan on being in that position any longer than it takes for us to reach the yacht.”
Alex wondered if her cheeks would ever go back to their normal color. “Have you no shame, Your Majesty?”
His white smile dazzled her. “None at all, Your Majesty.” He climbed in next to her. A footman closed the door. “As breathtaking as you look,” he murmured against her mouth, “there’s one sight I haven’t seen yet. I’ve been living for it.
“Now wave to the crowd. They came to look at you. Today you’re making history, mia moglie.”
His wife. The most beautiful word in the world.
“Darling? Don’t you think we should get up, if only to let your crew know we’re alive?”
Lucca pulled her higher across his chest, trapping her with his powerful legs. “Every time the steward takes back another empty tray to the kitchen, he knows there are two people creating their own paradise.”
She covered his impossibly handsome face with kisses, unable to get enough of him. “But it’s been three days.”
“Is my wife embarrassed because we haven’t left the bedchamber in all that time?”
“No.” She slid her arms around his neck. Looking into his slumberous black eyes she said, “I don’t care if the whole world knows we’ve been this happy. Do you suppose Carlo has told your father?”
The smile she loved broke out on his face. “You mean, that we’ve been working on his grandchild day and night? There’s no doubt about it. Did I tell you I’ve been having the time of my life in the process? Come closer, you gorgeous thing.”
Alex needed no urging. Their mouths fused in passion. Once more the joy of making love with her husband surpassed all other experiences. There was no end to his giving or hers. At times the beauty of it brought her to tears.
“I don’t ever want to do anything else,” she admitted an hour later, temporarily sated by rapture. He looked down at her and his hands stilled in her hair. A look of profound seriousness had entered his eyes. “What is it?” she asked, so attuned to him already it was as if they were one.
“I never wanted to be king, but I’ve changed my mind.”
Her breath caught. “Why is that?”
“These past three days have shown me a whole new life. I’ve discovered I want to spend as much of it as possible with you. We’ll do everything together. Unlike most men who don’t take their wives to work, it’s expected that I involve you in the country’s affairs.
“What’s wonderful about the palace is that my home and my work place are under the same roof. We’ll always be together, always travel together.”
Alex couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “My secret dr
eam growing up was to find one man who would love only me and want to be with me all the time, but I didn’t think it was possible.”
“It’s more than possible,” he said before plundering her mouth once more. Time passed before she became cognizant of it again. They ended up lying on their sides holding each other.
“I want to make up for all your years of loneliness.”
She cupped his handsome face in her hands. “You already have. I’m so happy it hurts, Lucca.”
“Then you have some idea of how I feel. To think I found you on the very day I’d given up hope of ever knowing true fulfillment.”
Alex ran a hand through his hair. “No one but a person like the Princess Sofia knows the kind of burden you’ve had to bear. Do you think Regina feels it the same way?”
“Yes,” he whispered against her lips. “Papa ingrained it into her that she’s second in line to the throne. No matter what, she’ll always do her duty.”
“Just like you. But what if she never meets a royal she loves the way we love each other?”
Lucca sighed into her neck. “I lie awake nights worrying about that. I’d give anything for my sister to know the kind of ecstasy you and I have found, but I refuse to worry about it right now. This time is for us, squisita.”
“Oh, darling.” She half sobbed with joy, unable to stop covering his face with kisses. “Ti amo,” she said against his eyes. “Sono innamorata di te,” she whispered against his jaw. “Ti adoro,” she mouthed the words against his lips.
“Someone’s been teaching you besides me,” he growled into her neck.
“I asked Professor Emilio to help me with some phrases for the honeymoon.”
Lucca let go with full-bodied laughter. The happy sound reached right down inside her soul.
“Did I say them right?” Her beautiful gray eyes beseeched him.
He sobered. “Perfetto. I’m the luckiest man alive, Alexandra. We were meant to be together.”
“I wanted to belong to you the moment you commanded me in your monarch voice, ‘Come back and sit down, Signorina Grigory. I’m not through with you.’”
Lucca crushed her in his arms. “I was a monster. I don’t know how you put up with me. Love me again so I know I’m not dreaming,” he whispered urgently. “I’ve only begun to live.”
The Diamond Bride
Carole Mortimer
About the Author
CAROLE MORTIMER was born in England, the youngest of three children. She began writing in 1978 and has now written over one hundred and fifty books for Mills & Boon. Carole has six sons, Matthew, Joshua, Timothy, Michael, David and Peter. She says, ‘I’m happily married to Peter senior; we’re best friends as well as lovers, which is probably the best recipe for a successful relationship. We live in a lovely part of England.’
CHAPTER ONE
‘IF YOU’re thinking of jumping, I should wait another couple of hours until the tide is back in!’
Annie turned with a start at the sound of that deeply masculine voice—a voice she didn’t recognise!
A dark figure loomed in the fog. A tall, menacing figure.
‘At the moment,’ that deep voice continued, ‘you’ll most likely just find yourself buried up to your ankles in mud!’
She had been lost in thought as she stood on the end of this small jetty, troubled thoughts that went round and round in circles, their beginnings always meeting up with their ends, giving no answers.
She had been so lost in those thoughts she hadn’t heard the man’s approach, but she was conscious now of how alone she was, the thick, swirling afternoon fog meaning she couldn’t be seen by anyone up at the house that stood so majestically on the clifftop above. This small, private beach was rarely used by any member of the Diamond family, and was certainly not going to be visited by any of them at this time of the day.
Alone now, with this stranger, she realised how foolish her choice had been.
‘I also don’t think the Diamond family would be too pleased at another suicide taking place on their estate,’ the gravelly voice continued harshly.
Another suicide …? Had someone once killed themselves here? What—?
Another suicide! Surely this man didn’t imagine that was what she intended doing down here? Although in truth, with the tide obviously out, and the fog making visibility negligible, it must seem strange for her to be standing out here on this waterless jetty. But suicide …!
She took an involuntary step backwards as the man moved towards her out of the mist, only to find herself pressed up against the railing with nowhere to go—except, as he’d said, down into the mud below.
Her eyes widened apprehensively as the fog seemed to part to allow the man to step out in front of her—a man, she was sure, who must be the epitome of every fictional hero.
She gasped even as the ridiculous thought jumped into her head. But at first sight he was the personification of that romantic hero Rochester: so tall, dark hair long and unruly, his face strong and powerful, eyes as dark as coal. He was Rochester come to life!
Annie shivered. Whether because of this overpowering stranger, or the dampness of the fog penetrating to her bones through the light jacket and denims she wore, she wasn’t altogether sure.
‘Cat got your tongue?’ he challenged with a rise of one dark brow.
Up close—too close!—she could see that his eyes weren’t black at all, but a very deep blue, the iris barely discernible from that dark cobalt, his features so hardly hewn they might have been carved from granite.
He tilted his head to one side, his expression speculative, black hair resting almost on his shoulders, seeming immune himself to the dampness of the weather in his dark jacket, blue casual shirt and faded blue denims.
‘“Trespassers will be prosecuted’”. He dryly quoted the sign that precluded access onto this secluded beach.
She swallowed hard, moistening her lips as she realised how dry her mouth had become. But the only way off the jetty was past this man, and being slightly built—only a little over five feet in height—she thought her chances of making good her escape were probably a little slim.
An avid reader, she tried to think what a fictional heroine would do in these circumstances. Humour him, that was it. Then wait until he was off-guard—and make a run for it. Once she had disappeared into the thick fog he would have great trouble finding her again.
She attempted a slight, conciliatory smile. ‘I’m sure that if you leave now the Diamond family will never be aware that you were ever here at all,’ she suggested lightly—desperately hoping that none of the panic she felt was evident in her voice.
Dark eyes widened. ‘If I leave …?’ He frowned. ‘My dear girl, I have no intention of leaving.’
He didn’t intend leaving …
Annie swallowed hard again, hands tightly clenched in her jacket pockets. ‘I really think that would be the best thing for you to do.’ She forced soothing calm into her voice. ‘Before—er—Mr Diamond comes down here and finds you trespassing on his land.’
‘Mr Diamond …?’ he echoed questioningly.
‘Anthony Diamond,’ Annie supplied quickly, at last feeling she might be making some progress in her effort to get him to leave.
‘He’s here?’ the man rasped, casting a look in the direction of the house above on the cliff, now hidden by the fog.
‘Oh, yes.’ She nodded eagerly. ‘All of the family are in residence.’
‘Are they indeed?’ he mused harshly, his brow clearing, his mouth twisting with contempt. ‘Well, I can assure you there’s no possibility of Anthony coming down here,’ he dismissed derisively. ‘He hates the sea and everything to do with it—more so since a boating accident several years ago. Unless, of course, the two of you have arranged to meet down here?’ he added slowly.
Annie looked at him sharply, momentarily forgetting her fear. Exactly what did he mean by that remark? He couldn’t possibly know anything about Anthony—or her, for that matter.
&nb
sp; ‘Have you?’ he prompted softly. ‘It would be the one place Davina wouldn’t think of looking for him; she knows of his aversion to moving water!’ he mocked.
And this man, she realised, at the mention of Davina, Anthony’s fiancée—whoever he was—knew far too much about the Diamond family!
The man looked at her consideringly now, seeming to take in everything about her appearance in that one sweeping glance: her short, curling red hair, which framed her gamine face, a face dominated by deep brown eyes; her small and snub nose, her wide and smiling mouth—usually, when she wasn’t accosted by complete strangers!—a chin that was small and pointed, her figure boyish in her jacket, blue cropped top and fitted black denims.
‘You don’t look like Anthony’s usual type,’ the man finally drawled insultingly. ‘But then, as he gets older, perhaps young and impressionable is easier to deal with!’
Easier to impress, his dismissive tone implied!
Well, at thirty-six, she didn’t consider Anthony old, and she wasn’t that young either; at twenty-two she could quite easily be married with small children.
She eyed the man coolly. ‘Anthony Diamond, as you have already mentioned, already has a fiancée.’ Some of her fear was fading now, to be replaced by anger; not only was this man trespassing on the Diamond estate, he was also insulting the family—well, one of them—as well now!
‘Davina,’ the man acknowledged. ‘I’m sure their engagement is of mutual benefit to both of them,’ he went on, ‘but it hasn’t stopped Anthony’s roving eye. You must be new to the village,’ he added tauntingly. ‘Last I heard, Anthony had already gone through all the available females there. Unless, of course, you’re one of the married ones?’
It had quickly become obvious to her that this man thought she was one of the girls from the local village two miles away. Which meant he must be new to the area himself, otherwise he would have known she was nanny to the youngest member of the Diamond family. Admittedly, she had only been working here for two months, but he seemed to know so much else about the Diamonds …
Diamonds Are Forever: The Royal Marriage ArrangementThe Diamond BrideThe Diamond Dad Page 16
