Her Royal Masquerade (Her Royal Romance)

by Natasha Moore

  “It must have been hard to grow up with so many restrictions. So many people expecting things of you. Proper things. ”

  They still did. “I didn’t know any differently,” he said. “And yet there were many benefits to growing up in a royal family as well.”

  “Yeah, I know.” The bitterness in Mia’s voice surprised him. “What do you know?” he asked.

  “I told you Birgitte and I grew up together. Our mothers are sisters, so we were together often. But we were not treated the same. Not by anyone.” She cleared her throat. “Birgitte had so much and she was always in the spotlight. I learned at an early age that she was the important one. I was always pushed to the background. I always took second place.” She looked at Vittorio and shrugged. “It’s still the same.”

  Vittorio opened his mouth, ready to tell her that she was wrong. Mia should never feel second place to her cousin simply because Birgitte was born royalty. But he closed his mouth and looked away, over the brown, dry flower beds. Hadn’t he implied exactly that by telling Mia he wanted Birgitte? By holding Mia here as a stand-in for the princess? He’d been treating her all along as someone who was not as good as her cousin.

  But what good would it do to tell her otherwise? If she knew how he felt, it wouldn’t change the reality of the situation. He didn’t think of her as second to Birgitte any longer, yet he could have no future with Mia. He knew he should send her away now, before they grew even closer. Before it would be even harder to send her away. Before he didn’t want to ever send her away.

  Mia dropped his hand and jumped to her feet. “Yes, well. At least I have something to do now until that stubborn cousin of mine replies to my many voice mails and texts. One would think she didn’t want to talk to me. Of course, she’s never been one for doing what she doesn’t want to do.”

  “Mia.” Vittorio rose, grabbed her hand before she could walk away. He couldn’t let her go yet. He was selfish enough to want to keep her for as long as he could. Her long hair was pulled back in one of those hated ponytails. He knew it was necessary for her work in the garden. A few wisps had escaped and danced around her face. He brushed a wayward strand out of her eyes. “You are an incredible woman. You should never feel second place to anyone.”

  “Thanks,” she croaked and pulled her hands out of his. “You should get back to your important meetings, Your Highness, and leave me to my humble work.”

  She turned away but he spun her around and grabbed her shoulders. “This is the Queen’s

  Garden. I am honored that you are willing to carry on my mother’s work. It is important.”

  Mia’s eyes shone with unshed tears. She swallowed. “Thank you, Your Highness. Now, go. You have a lot to do and I’m looking forward to dinner with you tonight, so don’t be late.”

  “One thing first.” He took her by the hand and led her to the small shed in the back corner by the fence. “I used to play in here often.” He opened the door and found the wide brimmed hat hanging from the hook, waiting to be worn again. Vittorio placed his mother’s gardening hat on

  Mia’s head. “To protect you from the sun.”

  He gently cupped her face and kissed her long and soft before stepping back and walking away. He didn’t give her a backward glance, no matter how tempted he was to do so. He knew he’d never leave the garden if he did.

  Chapter Nine

  Vittorio never knew where he’d find Mia during the day. As one week and then another went by, he’d become accustomed to seeing her in the middle of the day. He’d started to look forward to that small break when he could breathe again. When the weight of his duties fell away for a short while.

  If Mia wasn’t in the dining room or their suite or his father’s, she was usually in the garden. But after he returned from a meeting with some local businessmen, he wasn’t able to find her in any of the usual places. His stomach clenched. He didn’t worry any more about her leaving, but just this reminder that soon he wouldn’t be able to see her whenever he wanted to set him on edge.

  Rico got the information he needed quickly from Tony. “She’s in the music room, Your Highness.” They headed down to the first floor practice room.

  Vittorio paused outside the door. “Is that singing?” He held his breath when he recognized Mia’s clear voice singing along with the ensemble. She never ceased to surprise him. Rico caught his eye and smiled. They listened until the song was finished and then Vittorio opened the door.

  As soon as he stepped into the room, Mia jumped up from the chair she’d been sitting in, an audience of one. “Why didn’t you tell me you have royal musicians?”

  He remembered now how much she had enjoyed the music the night he met her. He’d thought she was Birgitte at the time, but he knew now that the name was the only false thing about her that night. “You heard them play. We danced to their music.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t realize they lived here. Practiced here.”

  She wore a dress the color of a rich Chianti and her feet were bare, her sandals kicked off underneath her chair. “I’m sorry I didn’t think to bring it up.”

  She took his hands, squeezed them lightly. “I wish I’d known. I would have been here listening to them practice every day. They’re wonderful.”

  Vittorio looked over her shoulder at the string ensemble that practiced here daily and was ready for any occasion when they would be needed. “Of course, they are. We are proud of the Mezzano Royal String Ensemble. They play for many of the functions at the palace and also travel around the world performing.”

  “My father plays the violin,” she said, her eyes bright. “I wish he could have had the chance to play in a group like this.”

  Vittorio almost offered to bring him here, then stopped in time. Perhaps once Birgitte was his bride, he could invite the rest of her family here. He changed the subject. “Did I hear you singing along?”

  Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. “It was a song I knew. A love song my father played for my mother. I used to sing along with him sometimes. My mother would get happy tears in her eyes and hug us both.” She sniffed and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry. A happy memory.”

  “No reason to apologize for happy tears,” Vittorio said.

  The musicians began playing softly. He recognized it as a song they had danced to at the ball. He gathered her into his arms and began to sway in time with the music. Mia rested her head on his shoulder and he let the rest of the world slip away.

  “I remember this song,” Mia murmured. She raised her head to brush her cheek against his.

  “I remember holding you in my arms just like this,” he replied. “We fit, even then.”

  She nodded and followed his lead perfectly as they danced to the music, covering the floor with sweeping steps. Feeling more light-hearted than he had in current memory, he twirled Mia out to the center of the floor, drew her back in to press against him, and then dipped her back. Her laughter as she returned to his arms was the most beautiful music he’d ever heard.

  “I’d almost forgotten what a good dancer you are,” she told him, swaying in his arms again. “We should do this more often.” Then her bright smile faded as if she remembered, as he did, that they wouldn’t have much time together.

  The song ended and they slowly drew apart.

  “Sing for me.” Vittorio was surprised that he sounded as if he was begging.

  “What do you want me to sing?” she asked.

  “I would like to hear the love song with which your father serenaded your mother.”

  Her cheeks pinked a little, but she nodded, turned to the musicians with an uneasy shrug. She took his hands and sang to him, words of love and forever after, in tones clear and sweet. He found it hard to breathe, hard to swallow as the emotions welled within him.

  This had been a mistake. Instead of heart-warming, it was heart-breaking. Still, if she could continue to sing the words, he would be strong enough to hear them. Hold them close to remember when she was gone.
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  “Lovely.” He cupped her face and kissed her gently when the song was done. “You are most fortunate to have parents who love each other.” No wonder she was such a caring person. A loving person.

  “Very lucky,” she agreed. “If I hadn’t had their love and support, I think taking second place to Birgitte would have been much harder for me.”

  “You are a strong woman. You would have survived.”

  She shrugged. “I like to think so, but who knows.”

  Vittorio dismissed the musicians, sent the guards to wait outside. He kissed her then the way he’d been longing to, drinking her in, trying to absorb her kindness and her affection for everyone around her. Her affection for him. He didn’t want to think it was anything more.

  “I didn’t grow up witnessing love between my parents,” Vittorio said, the words out of his mouth before he realized he was saying them out loud. “I knew my parents loved me. Loved my brother and sister, but I grew up thinking that it was normal for a mother and father to treat each other civilly, yet not show any affection. As I grew older I realized it was simply normal for royalty. At least for Mezzano royalty.”

  “At least they didn’t hate each other,” Mia said. She drew him over to the chairs set up against the wall. “I have friends who grew up in households where their parents fought all the time. That would be worse.”

  “True. But I would not know how to love a wife. Certainly not know how to love a queen. I would not even be able to recognize romantic love.”

  Her eyes grew wide, worried. She took his hand and placed it in her lap. “Of course, you would.”

  “No,” he said, although he was afraid that he could recognize it. Could feel it right now if he let himself. “And what good would it do if I did?” he went on. “Why did a cruel king centuries back decide that none of his descendants could marry for love?”

  She brushed her fingers along the back of his hand, stroking, comforting. “I don’t know.”

  “My father thinks it is so the king is not ruled by his heart.”

  “And what is wrong with that?”

  “A king has the welfare of the entire country on his shoulders. He must rule with his head. He can’t be distracted by matters of the heart.”

  “I think a king who rules with his heart would be a kinder, greater ruler,” Mia said, “but then, what do I know of royalty?”

  “It is of no matter. It doesn’t change reality.”

  “I hope you can grow to love your queen,” she said, her voice wavering. “I would hate for you to never know love.”

  He shouldn’t have been surprised to discover Mia was concerned that he wouldn’t find love. But he knew he never would. He’d never expected to. Vittorio knew the closest thing he would ever know was the affection he felt for Mia. He would never call it love, to do so would be too cruel.

  Vittorio kissed her hand and rose. “Until dinner.” It was time to push away the concerns of the heart. The country needed a clear head from their future king.

  Mia woke abruptly from a dream in which she was stumbling through a freezing blizzard, searching for something. Or someone. She couldn’t see where she was going through the blinding snow. She was freezing and the more she trudged through the snow, the deeper it piled up around her. Tears froze to her face. The wind took her breath away. Soon she was trapped, with no way to get out, and the worries, as heavy as the driven snow, piled higher and higher around her.

  Time was running out.

  She gasped as she awoke. At first she was afraid she’d awaken Vittorio, but discovered she was alone in the big soft bed. Morning had not come yet. Darkness blanketed the bedroom and she was tempted to stay in the warm cocoon to drive off the dreams of the cold Stagatland winter.

  But now that she was awake, the restlessness that had begun to plague her would not let her go. It wasn’t the kind of restlessness that would make her wish to be somewhere else. On the contrary, it was the sense of time ticking away and there was nothing she could do about it.

  She pulled on her robe and stepped out of the bedroom. A sliver of light shown beneath the door to Vittorio’s office. Mia opened the door slowly and found Vittorio at his desk, papers spread out in front of him.

  He looked up as she entered. “You cannot sleep?”

  She shook her head, crossed the room. “I see you can’t either.”

  He pushed his chair away from the desk and drew her down onto his lap. She slid her arm around his neck and snuggled against his warm body. Much better than the covers in a lonely bed. “What are you reading?” she asked, glancing over at the documents on the top of the desk.

  “It’s just some historical research,” he told her. His arms came around her and cradled her gently.

  She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “Sounds like heavy reading for the middle of the night.”

  He shrugged. “As you said, I couldn’t sleep.”

  Did he feel time ticking away as well? She lifted her head and looked at all the books on the shelves behind the desk. “Do you enjoy reading about history?”

  “I have my degree in history,” he told her. “I find history fascinating.”

  “I realize that I know nothing about what you like to do when you’re not being a prince,” she said.

  His hand slid beneath her robe to cup her breast. “You know what I like to do.”

  Mia smiled. “Yes, but it was wrong for me not to have asked about what you did before you were a prince.”

  “I’ve always been a prince.” His thumb teased her nipple. She tingled with arousal but didn’t allow him to distract her.

  “But when you were younger, before your father became ill. How did you spend your time? What did you enjoy doing?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he replied, sounding as tired as he looked. “The rest of my life is mapped out for me.”

  Mia shifted on Vittorio’s lap, teasing him with her warm, wet heat. He didn’t want to talk about the past. Didn’t want to think about the future. He’d read the documents spread out in front of him a hundred times. The words never changed. He could find no way around the royal marriage decree. “Vittorio…”

  He set her off his lap and stood. He didn’t want to look at the papers any longer or think about what they meant for the rest of his life. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He took Mia’s hand and led her from his office, closed the door behind them.

  “But it does matter,” she insisted. “It’s part of who you are. Even a prince can have other interests that help make them complete.”

  “The interests of my people are what are important now.” He couldn’t forget that. “My life is no longer my own, Mia. You spoke of freedom when I brought you here. You spoke of prisons.”

  “Yes, but you know I no longer consider this place a prison.”

  He took her into the bedroom, opened the door to the balcony and brought her out into the night. A few lights from the neighboring towns still shone in the distance. The glow from the city was visible beyond the hills.

  “This is my life. This is my prison,” he told her. Mia slid her arm around his waist and leaned against him, lending him her warmth and strength. He gestured to the lights before them.

  “These are my people. I have responsibilities to them. It is a duty I cannot escape.”

  She gasped. “I would never ask you to give up your duty to your people.”

  “I know.” Still, it was tempting, so tempting, to grasp this way to keep Mia beside him always. But Vittorio knew it would be incredibly selfish to abandon his people for a woman.

  Even a woman as warm, as loving, as perfect as Mia.

  He turned to bring her into his arms. After a long kiss, he opened her robe. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t stop him when he slid the robe from her body. He knew he shouldn’t use her this way. Shouldn’t use sex as a distraction.

  But it was only when he was with Mia that he could pretend there was a part of his life that was his own.

  She
was silent as she helped him shed the clothing he’d thrown on when he hadn’t been able to sleep. His body was already hard and ready for her. He was always that way for her, but he wanted to make sure her body would be ready to take him.

  Vittorio dropped to his knees before her and she gasped when he pushed her back up against the railing and spread her legs apart. He lifted one of her feet and brought it to his mouth. He loved the erotic noises she made when he kissed her ankles. He’d discovered that on the first night they’d spent together. So he nibbled on one ankle and then the other before he placed her feet flat on the floor of the balcony and then leaned in for another kind of kissing.

  His mouth found her slick flesh and he flicked his tongue eagerly through her feminine folds. Mia gasped again when he spread her wide with his thumbs and found her tight little button of nerves. Her hands dove into his hair and her hips moved, bringing her core closer to his seeking mouth.

  “You are so sweet,” he murmured. “I love your taste on my tongue.”

  She moaned, her moves growing ever more frantic in the shadows of the palace. He kept licking her and sucking lightly on her flesh with his lips. He slid one finger into her core and found her wet and ready. His erection throbbed with the need to be buried in her tight heat.

  Vittorio sucked on her clitoris and she exploded around him, crying out his name. Her body shook with her climax and he drank her juices like the finest wine. When he could wait no longer, Vittorio stood and turned Mia around so that she was facing the railing, facing the lights of the towns below where his people lived.

  She held onto the railing and after he took a condom from the pocket of his pants, he grabbed onto her hips and plunged into her from behind. Mia called out his name again as he filled her.

  Vittorio leaned over her, covering her with his body as he moved within her. His thrusts weren’t as deep this way, but the change of angle meant his shaft rubbed against her flesh in a whole new way. He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist, holding her close, the way he wished he could always keep her.