by Abby Green
The rest of the small wedding party was already there: Lani, holding Trev, and Aaron and another dark-haired man who was obviously Cleo’s husband, Fletcher Bravo. She saw him in profile and noted the family resemblance between him and Aaron—and Rule, too, she realized.
Her groom was waiting for her, standing down in front with the justice of the peace, looking fabulous as always in a black silk suit with a lustrous cobalt-blue tie and a shirt the color of a summer sky. In his lapel, he wore the yellow rose she’d sent him.
Sydney’s pulse beat faster, just at the sight of him. And she smiled to herself, thinking of all the years she’d been so sure she would never find him—the right man, a good man, solid, smart and funny and true. The fact that he’d turned out to be a real-life prince who was total eye candy and had a voice that turned her insides to jelly, well, that was just the icing on the cake.
He was exactly the man for her. He made her feel beautiful and bold and exciting—or maybe he simply saw her beauty and made her see it, too. It didn’t matter. With him, she could have it all. She could not wait to start their life together.
The only thing that could have made this day more perfect was if her Grandma Ellen could have been here, too.
Cleo helped Sydney pin the short veil in place.
And then the “Wedding March” began.
With a smile of pure happiness curving her lips and the glow of new love in her heart, Sydney walked down the aisle toward her waiting groom. She was absolutely certain she was making the right choice, marrying a man who saw beyond the walls she had erected to protect her injured heart. A man who had loved her the first moment he saw her, a man who wanted to be a real father to her son. A man who had been charmingly reluctant to reveal his princely heritage. A man of honor, who spoke the truth.
A man who did not have a deceptive bone in his body.
Chapter Seven
The justice of the peace said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
His eyes only for her, Rule raised the short veil and guided it back over her head.
And then he drew her closer to him and he kissed her, a tender, perfect kiss. A kiss that promised everything: his love and his devotion, the bright future they would share. Sydney closed her eyes and wished the special moment might last forever.
After the ceremony, they all went to dinner in a private dining room in High Sierra’s nicest restaurant. More children joined them there, six of them. Celia and Aaron had three, as did Fletcher and Cleo. The food was great and the company even better.
Aaron and Fletcher proposed a series of excellent toasts and when the kids were done eating, they were all allowed to get down and play together. There was much childish laughter. Trev loved every minute of it. He seemed quite taken with Fletcher and Cleo’s oldest child, Ashlyn. He followed her around the private dining room, offering her dazzling smiles whenever she glanced his way. Ashlyn didn’t seem to mind. And she knew several knock-knock jokes. She patiently tried to teach them to Trev, who inevitably got carried away and started playing both parts.
“Knock, knock,” Ashlyn would say gamely.
And Trev would crow, “Who’s there? Bill! Orange! Wanda!”
There was a cake, three tiers tall, a yellow cake with white fondant icing and edible pearls, crowned with a circle of yellow rosebuds. Celia took pictures as Sydney and Rule fed each other too-big bites of the sweet confection.
Trev tore himself away from his adoration of Ashlyn to join them at the cake table. “Roo, Mama, cake! Now!” He reached up his chubby arms.
So Rule swept him up against his chest and Trev laughed in delight. “Roo!” he cried. “Kiss,” and puckered up his little mouth.
Rule puckered up as well and kissed him with a loud, smacking sound, which made Trev laugh even harder. A second later, he demanded, “Cake, Mama!”
“Cake, please?” she suggested.
And he shouted, “Cake! Please!”
So Sydney fed him a few bites of cake while Celia snapped more pictures. Then they served everyone else. The kids were silent—for a few minutes anyway—as they devoured their dessert.
After that, everyone lingered, reluctant to call an end to an enjoyable event. The adults chatted, the children went back to running in and out under the table, laughing, playing tag.
Eventually though, the little ones started getting fussy. Lani said she would take Trev up to the suite. Sydney offered to go, but Lani said she wanted to get back to her writing anyway. She could handle Trevor and work on her book at the same time, and often did. She would keep her laptop handy and sneak in a sentence or two whenever Trevor gave her a moment to herself.
So Lani took him up. Soon after, Celia and Cleo gathered their respective broods and left for the onsite apartments each family kept in the resort complex.
That left Fletcher and Aaron playing dual hosts to the newlyweds. The men talked a little business. The Bravo CEOs agreed that Montedoran oranges would be a perfect addition to the complimentary fruit baskets they offered in their luxury suites.
Rule invited his two second cousins and their families to Montedoro. Both said they would love to come. They would stay at the Prince’s Palace and visit the fabulous casino in Montedoro’s resort ward of Colline d’Ambre.
Finally, after more good wishes for a long and happy life together, the half brothers went to join their families. Rule and Sydney were left alone in the private dining room.
He drew her close to him, tipped up her chin and kissed her slowly and so sweetly. “My wife …” he whispered against her lips. “My own princess.”
She chuckled. “Just like that? I only have to marry you and I get to be a princess?”
He took her hand, laid it against his chest. “And you will always rule my heart.”
She laughed then. “Oh, you are so smooth.” And then she frowned.
He kissed her furrowed brow. “What?”
“Your mother, the princess. Your family. This will be quite a surprise to them.”
“A happy surprise,” he said.
“So … you haven’t told them anything about me yet?”
“Only my father. He knows … everything. And by now he will have told my mother that I’ve married the only woman for me.”
She searched his face. “The way you say that. Everything. It sounds mysterious somehow.”
He touched her cheek, smoothed a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Not mysterious at all. I spoke with my father this morning, before I came to take you to the airport. He wished us much happiness and he looks forward to meeting his new daughter-in-law and grandson.”
“So he’s not overly disappointed that you’re not marrying Princess Lili?”
He traced the neckline of her wedding dress, striking sparks of excitement. “My father is a great believer in marrying for love. So he wants me to be happy. And he understands that I will be happy—with you.”
“And your mother?”
“I know that she will be happy for me, as well.” He kissed her again, slowly. A kiss that deepened, went from tender to scorching-hot. Her mind went hazy and her body went loose.
When he lifted his mouth from hers that time and the small dining room swam into focus again, a busman stood at the door. “Excuse me. I’ll come back….”
Rule shook his head. “No. We’re just leaving.” He stood and pulled back her chair for her. “Shall we try our luck in the casino?”
“I’m terrible at games of chance.”
“Never admit that. Lady Luck will hear you.”
Her bouquet and her short veil, which she’d removed a while ago, lay on the table. Rule signaled the busman over, tipped him hugely and asked him to have both items delivered to their suite.
The busman promised it would be done.
Sydney took the rose from Rule’s lapel, feeling wonderfully wifely and possessive of him as she did it. “This, too,” she told the busman. “And the cake. I want the rest of the cake.”
> The busman promised he’d have the cake boxed and sent to their suite with the veil, the bouquet and the boutonniere.
They took the wide glass breezeway across the Strip to Impresario, which was all in blacks and reds and golds, a Moulin Rouge theme. They played roulette for over two hours. Sydney surprised herself by winning steadily. When they left the roulette table she was up more than a thousand dollars.
She caught sight of Joseph a few feet away and leaned close to her new husband to whisper, “Joseph is following us.”
He brushed a kiss against her hair. “Joseph is always following us. That’s his job.”
“You’re kidding. You mean every time I’ve been out with you …?”
“That’s right. Joseph has been somewhere nearby.”
“I swear I never noticed before.”
“You’re not supposed to notice. He’s paid to be invisible until he’s needed.”
“Well, he’s very good at it.”
“He’ll be pleased to hear that. Joseph takes great pride in his work—and what would you like to play next?”
“I was kind of thinking it would be fun to try my luck at blackjack.”
“Blackjack it is, then.” They found a table and played for another hour. Sydney won some more.
When they left the blackjack table it was after ten.
He leaned close. “I think you’re lucky, after all.”
“I think it’s you,” she whispered back. “You bring me luck.”
He had his arm around her and pulled her closer, right there in the aisle, on their way toward the elevators that led up to the fifth floor and the breezeway back to High Sierra. Their lips met.
And a flash went off.
She laughed. “I think I’m seeing stars.”
But he wasn’t smiling. “The jackals are onto us.”
“Ahem. Excuse me….?”
“Paparazzi. We have to go.” He already had her hand and was moving fast toward the elevators. She hurried to keep up. More flashes went off.
A balding guy in tight pants and a black shirt with a big gold chain around his neck stepped in front of them. He stuck a microphone in Rule’s face and started firing questions at him, racing backward to keep up with them. “Enjoying your visit to America, Your Highness? Who is the woman in white? Is that a wedding ring I see on the lady’s finger?”
Rule only said, “Excuse me, no comment,” and kept walking fast.
That was when Joseph appeared. He must have grabbed the guy with the microphone, because the man stumbled and fell back, out of their path.
Rule forged on. They reached the elevators and one rolled open as if on cue. He pulled her in there, pushed the button for the fifth floor and the doors slid shut.
“Whew,” she said, laughing a little. “Looks like we’re safe.”
He just looked grim. “I should have known they would spot us.” A moment later, the doors slid open wide. They got off and a group of men in business suits got on. Rule had her hand again. They were headed for the breezeway. Halfway across it, Joseph caught up with them. “Is it handled?” Rule asked low.
“Too many cameras.” Joseph spoke softly, but his face looked carved in stone. “And they refused to deal, anyway. They got away with the shots they took.”
Rule swore under his breath and pulled her onward.
On the High Sierra side, they took an elevator up to their floor. When the elevator stopped and the door opened, Joseph stuck his head out first. “We’re clear,” he said and signaled them out.
They walked at a brisk clip down the hallway to their suite. Rule had the key ready. He swiped it through the slot and they were in as Joseph entered the room next door.
The suite was silent. Trev had been put to bed hours ago and Lani must have retreated to her room. She’d left the light in the suite’s granite-tiled foyer on for them.
Sydney sagged against the door. “Wow. That was exciting.”
Rule braced a hand by her head and bent to kiss her—a hard, passionate kiss that slowly turned tender. When he pulled away, he whispered, “I’m sorry …”
“Whatever for? I had a great time.”
“I knew it was unwise, to take you out on the casino floor and then stay there for hours. We were bound to be spotted.”
She touched the side of his face, brushed the backs of her fingers along the silky, beautifully trimmed hair at his temples. “It’s not the end of the world, is it, if our pictures end up in some tabloid somewhere?”
“In my family, we prefer to control the message.”
“Meaning?”
“I was hoping we could keep our marriage private for the next few weeks, until I had you with me in Montedoro. From there, a discreet and carefully worded announcement could be made. And pictures could be taken by the palace photographer to send to the press, pictures of our choosing.”
“What? A candid shot of you and me racing down a hallway with our mouths hanging open in surprise isn’t discreet enough for you?”
He laughed then. But his eyes were troubled. “No, it’s not.”
She smoothed his lapel, straightened his collar. “Well, no matter how bad it is, just remember how much fun we had. As far as I’m concerned, I had so much fun, it’s worth a few ugly pictures in some scandal sheet. Plus, I won almost two thousand dollars, about which I am beyond thrilled. I never win anything. But all I have to do is marry you, and suddenly it’s like I’ve got a four-leaf clover tattooed on my forehead.”
He was looking at her in that way again. The lovely, sexy way. The way that set small fluttery creatures loose in her stomach and had her feeling distinctly sultry lower down. “There is no four-leaf clover on your forehead.” He kissed the spot where it might have been.
“Oh, it’s there,” she said softly, breathlessly. “You just can’t see it. I was clever that way. I insisted on an invisible tattoo.”
“Wait. I think I see it, after all.” He breathed the words against her skin. And then he kissed his way down between her brows, trailing that wonderful mouth along the top of her nose. He nipped her lips once and then kissed her chin. “And I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“Oh, I did.” Her voice was now more breath than sound. “I really did …”
He covered her mouth with his again. Luckily, she had the door at her back to lean against. She stayed upright even though her knees had gone deliciously wobbly. And as it turned out, she didn’t need to hold herself upright much longer anyway. Still kissing her, he scooped her up in his arms carried her through the open archway to the central room of the suite.
The busman had kept his promise. On the dining table, she saw the large cake box, her veil and bouquet and also Rule’s boutonniere. She smiled against his lips as he turned and carried her through the open door to their room, where the lamp by the bed had been left on low. Also, on a long table against the wall, a pair of crystal flutes flanked an ice bucket holding a bottle of champagne. The covers on the king-size bed were turned invitingly down.
She stretched out an arm to push the door shut behind them. Rule carried her to the side of the wide bed and set her down on her feet. They shared another kiss, one that went on for a lovely, endless space of time.
When he lifted his head, he guided her around so her back was to him. She read his intention and smoothed her hair to the side. He lowered the zipper at the back of her dress.
She took it from there, easing her arms free, pushing the dress down. Stepping out of it, she bent and picked it up and carried it to the bedside chair, where she took time to lay it down gently, to smooth the white folds.
“Come back here,” he said, his voice rough with wanting.
“In a moment …” She sent him a teasing glance over her shoulder as she returned to the door long enough to engage the privacy lock. From there, she went to the dressing table on the far side of the room. She took off her shoes, her bra, her white lace panties and pearl earrings. And after that, she removed the single strand of pearls her grand
mother had given her and the blue lace garter provided by the bridal boutique. Finally, wearing nothing but a tender smile, she faced him again. “Your turn.”
He made a low sound in his throat, his gaze moving over her, hot and possessive. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”
The room had a walk-in closet. He entered it and came back out a moment later. Returning to the side of the bed, he laid two wrapped condoms on the nightstand.
She told him softly, “We won’t need those.”
Something flared in his eyes—triumph? Joy? But then he stood very still. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “We both want more children. I’m thinking there’s no time like the present to get going on that.”
“Sydney O’Shea Bravo-Calabretti,” he said. “You amaze me.”
She did like the sound of her name, her new name, on his lips. And she had no doubts. None whatsoever. She told him so. “I know what I want now, Rule. I want you. I want a family, with you and Trev. And I’m greedy. I want more babies. I honestly do.”
He took a step toward her.
She put up a hand. “Your clothes. All of them. Please.”
He didn’t argue. He undressed. He did it swiftly, with no wasted motion, tossing the beautifully tailored articles of clothing carelessly aside as he removed them. His body was so fine and strong. Just looking at him stole her breath.
When he had everything off, she went to him. She lifted her arms to him and he drew her close. Nothing so fine as that, to be held in his powerful arms, to feel the heat and hardness of him all around her.
He smoothed her hair, caressed her back with a long stroke of his tender hand. “I think I’m the happiest man in the world tonight.”
She tipped her head up to him. “I’m glad. So glad …”
He kissed her and she thought how she would never, ever get enough of his kisses. That with him, she’d finally found everything she’d almost let herself forget that she’d been looking for.
She pulled him down onto the bed with her and gave herself up to his touch, to the magic of his lips on her skin.
