The King's Surprise Bride_A Royal Wedding Novella

by Vivien Vale

  My guilt at stepping into his place is earned, but so is my happiness at what she inadvertently evaded.

  My head falls forward to rest against the door, the cool wood like a balm against the headache forming there.

  If I feel so overwhelmed, I can only imagine what she’s going through.

  “Nicole!” I call out, not liking the desperation in my own voice. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the maelstrom raging in my mind.

  “Nicole, please, let’s just talk about this.”

  I hear no answer from the other side, just the persistent falling water.

  I raise my hand again, this time allowing my knuckles to strike against the wood.

  “Look, if you would just let me explain…” I trail off, not sure what more to say.

  My feelings for Nicole are still surprising, even to me.

  The fact that they led me down this crazy path is even more so. I rack my brain, trying to find the words to explain, trying to find some mystery phrase that will suddenly make this disastrous situation all right.

  Nothing comes, nothing that hasn’t already been said.

  Words fail me here, and I realize belatedly that it’s because words just aren’t enough for this situation. If Nicole is ever going to believe the depths of my feelings, I’ll have to show her. Prove them to her in a way that Ryan never did—or would, for that matter.

  Show, not tell.

  I rap my knuckles against the door, harder this time. I refuse to leave her in there alone, confused and overwhelmed.

  The door gives way with a small creak of annoyance, opening several inches at the insistence of my fist.

  I damn near slap myself for not trying the knob in the first place.

  Of course, it’s unlocked.

  “Nicole…” I say more calmly, stepping through the doorway.

  It isn’t until I’m halfway into the bathroom that I can hear her sobs. My heart aches at the sound of them, urging me to be near her.

  The glass of the shower door is completely fogged, making it difficult to find so much as an outline. It isn’t until I’m right at it that I spot her, curled up on the shower floor, her cries only growing more desperate.

  Without thinking, I yank the door open in a rush, stepping under the hot sprays of water. My eyes fall over her, her body prone, tense with emotion.

  It’s with a great force of will that I drag my eyes back to her face.

  “Oh, Nicole…” I whisper, lowering myself onto the floor beside her. “Everything’s gonna be okay.”

  I lay a hand gently on her shoulder, testing her reaction.

  When she doesn’t pull away, I scoot closer, locking my arms defensively around her.

  “I know I screwed up here,” I say, my face lowered to her ear, “but I promise, I’m going to make this up to you.”

  Her sobs ease, trickling off into the occasional soft groan.

  “How?” she asks, finally glancing up at me.

  Her eyes rake over my sopping wet form. Beads of water fall from my drenched hair, my clothes sticking tightly to my body.

  I’ve never felt relief so great as I do when a giggle escapes her.

  “You look ridiculous,” she laughs.

  I glance down at myself—she has a point.

  “Maybe so,” I say in my most serious tone, a smile tugging at my lips, “but I mean it, Nicole. I’m going to make this right, whatever it takes.”

  She stares at me a long moment, water rushing down her face.

  “Well, I guess you’ll have to,” she finally starts. “You’re my husband, after all.”

  A full smile stretches my face. Hearing her say it, so matter of factly, makes my heart soar.

  “That I am.”

  Silence falls over us, surprisingly comfortable.

  The water continues to fall, further seeping its way into my clothes. I pay it little mind, my thoughts elsewhere.

  I feel absolutely pulled into her eyes, now staring at me in contemplation. What I wouldn’t give to hear what she’s thinking.

  Her new reality is definitely going to take a lot of processing, I’m sure of that. The way she’s looking at me now, though, so open, I feel like there may truly be a happy ending in all of this mess.

  “Okay,” I say before I’ve even really decided to, “so I’m gonna need you to get ready.”

  The intensity of her stare breaks, confusion once again taking up place in her gaze.

  “Ready for what?”

  “For Venice!” I say, trying hard to sound extra cheerful.

  She tilts her head in question.

  “You didn’t think we were gonna sit around here all day?” I ask. “Oh, no. I’m taking you out. See the sights, live a little. It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “As a heart attack.”

  I stand quickly, silently willing her to agree.

  “O-okay.” she says.

  Good enough for me.

  “Perfect,” I chime, throwing open the shower door. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  I step out, my shoes squeaking as they make contact with the bath mat. Water seems to pour from me in waves, soaking through the mat in a hurry.

  “I’ll just go change.”

  I pull at my shirt for emphasis, hearing the small squelch it lets out as it comes away from my body.

  “Thirty minutes?”

  I glance back at her for approval, receiving a small nod in response.

  Again, it takes more than a little effort to look away, my eyes longing to run the length of her shimmering form.

  I can barely resist. Instead, I turn back towards the door and the room beyond it. I make my way down the hall, shoes squeaking loudly with every step, water dripping freely down me.

  When I reach the room, I take my time, slowly peeling the soaked clothes from my body as I think.

  I really do think that this is all going to work out. Crazy as it might seem.

  The only real struggle was getting her to spend time with me. After what I pulled, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she went running for the hills, demanding an annulment the entire way.

  Now that I see her reaction, though: calm—even striving on hopeful—I know that I can make this work.

  If she’ll just stick with me here, I can prove everything to her. I can show her that this isn’t some prank or passing amusement.

  My feelings are as real as they are insane, and I won’t rest until she believes me.

  Believes me and feels the same.

  One step at a time, no matter what it takes, I’ll make her fall for me.

  Just as I’ve fallen for her.

  And we’ll have our happily ever after.

  Nicole

  I walk into the bedroom and toward the closet.

  My eyes feel puffy and raw from crying in the shower. Dante was so sweet and gentle. Usually men would leave a woman to cry alone, but not him.

  And he’s my husband now. Not Ryan.

  I take a deep breath. My thoughts are in total disarray.

  The whole situation seems unreal.

  How could Ryan do this to me?

  He was the one who asked me to marry him...but he never showed up to our wedding. He had chosen another woman over me.

  I was dedicated to him. I saved myself for him.

  Instead, I’m now married to his best friend. And I’m still a fucking virgin.

  I definitely didn’t plan for this to happen, but I guess the universe had other plans for me.

  I pull the closet doors open and pause.

  What is all this?

  There’s an entire wardrobe lined up, and I don’t recognize any of it. None of the clothes are the ones I had brought with me.

  I look closely at the outfits.

  They’re all in my favorite colors. Red, pink, and blues mix to form a collage in front of my eyes. Dante must have done this.

  With that realization, I feel myself get teary-eyed all over again. M
y emotions are shot to ribbons right now.

  Can you blame a girl, though?

  The last few hours have been such a rollercoaster of emotions to the point that such a simple gesture of buying me clothes in my favorite colors is causing hundreds of different feelings to swirl inside me. It’s not just the gesture but the attention to detail as well.

  Ryan only ever liked to see me in black and white outfits. So, I wore clothes in those exact two colors.

  He also liked my dresses to be skimpy—short skirts, low neckline to show off my cleavage, and other revealing outfits. Basically, the more skin shown, the better.

  I didn’t realize at the time that I had stopped wearing what I liked. Even my favorite colors had disappeared from my wardrobe.

  The clothes lined up in front of me lean towards stylish, practical, and just plain gorgeous. Far from the suggestive pieces Ryan insisted I wear.

  I pull a pair of pants from the dresser. They fit me perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places while being comfortable at the same time. I pair them with a blush pink top.

  Deciding to keep with the casual outfit, I simply throw my hair up into a pony tail.

  Nothing fancy and nothing flashy. It’s practical and comfortable for a trip around Venice.

  One look in the mirror, and I smile. I never would have been allowed to wear this in the past. A beauty pageant contestant always has to look perfect and poised no matter where she goes.

  Plus, Ryan wouldn’t have liked it if I wore something so simple.

  My smile widens. I feel a bit rebellious, going against the norm I’ve had to follow the past couple of years. It feels amazing to do what I want and wear whatever I feel like wearing.

  I turn away from the mirror and walk to the side dresser next to the bed to retrieve my phone.

  The notification light is blinking. There’s a text message from Allison.

  She’s taken off with the friend she met last night for a few days and won’t be coming back for about a week.

  I type out a quick message and tuck the phone into my back pocket.

  Time for that tour Dante promised me.

  I may be upset with this whole Ryan situation, but I might as well enjoy my time here in Venice while I can. After all, this is my first time here, and I’ve wanted to explore the beautiful city as soon as I’d arrived.

  There’s something exciting about exploring the city...mainly because I’ll be doing it with Dante. I don’t know why I feel this way; I just do.

  I was supposed to be married to Ryan by now and sightseeing with him. That is, if I had been able to convince him to go sightseeing.

  But I’m with Dante instead. Dante.

  He’d been an expert guide yesterday. Maybe today won’t be as bad as it started out.

  Quickly, I find the man I’m thinking about in the living room area and discover he’s on his phone.

  I stand there and stare. He’s extremely handsome.

  His voice as he talks is low and soothing. It washes over me and puts me at ease.

  He looks over in my direction and realizes I’ve been staring. He stares back at me without breaking his conversation and beams.

  I can feel my face warming as I blush.

  Finally, he ends his conversation and hangs up without taking his eyes off me.

  “I’ve got us signed up for a sightseeing tour of Venice,” he states. “You all set to go?”

  “Yep. Ready when you are.”

  We head out into the hall, and I fidget a little as we walk.

  “I like that outfit on you,” Dante suddenly says.

  I smile a little and look down at the floor. “Well you did buy it for me. I wasn’t going to let a perfectly good wardrobe go to waste.”

  Dante chuckles. “Well, I am your husband now. Aren’t husbands supposed to buy things for their wives? Especially beautiful outfits they want to see them in?”

  He makes a good point.

  “I think I’ve heard somewhere that husbands are prone to doing things like that,” I state and flash a coy smile at him. “But I’d have to point out this is a very simple and relaxed outfit. It hardly shows off anything to warrant praise.”

  Dante places a hand on my lower back, bringing his lips close to my ear.

  “It doesn’t need to show off anything in great detail, Nicole. What you’re wearing highlights just enough of your sexy curves to be quite pleasing. People don’t realize that a taste or hint of something can be a lot sexier and more exciting than being given the whole package at once.”

  My heartbeat quickens. Having him this close to me and saying stuff like that is turning me on. Dante really is something else.

  He moves slightly away from me, taking his hand off my back.

  I give myself a little shake to break the daze he’s put me in.

  “Anyway, I’m just trying to be a doting husband and make sure you’re happy,” Dante adds. “If I get a little pleasure out of it, then that’s just a bonus.”

  Smiling, I turn my head to look him straight in the eyes. “Well, don’t let me stop you from fulfilling your role as my new husband.”

  “Oh, you couldn’t stop me from being the best husband I can be even if you tried to, sweet Nicole.”

  My stomach is overcome with butterflies. He has a response for everything.

  The elevator finally opens with a ding. We step in, and I still have a huge smile on my face.

  “Where exactly in the city are we going?” I ask.

  “You’ll just have to wait and see,” he says, smiling down at me. “I can promise you, though, you’ll enjoy every bit of it.”

  I inch closer to him. Without thinking, I grab on to Dante’s hand.

  “I guess I’ll have to trust you then,” I state sweetly.

  I realize just then what I’ve done. I barely know this man and I just grabbed his hand as if it were natural. As if he even asked me to take it.

  I feel embarrassed at my forwardness.

  My hand tries to tug free from his, but Dante tightens his around mine. He’s not letting me go.

  He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. The simple gesture lets me know that he doesn’t mind that I took his hand and that he’s actually enjoying the fact that we’re holding hands now.

  I relax, and he twines our fingers together more firmly.

  He raises our entwined fingers to his lips and kisses them.

  Placing his free hand on my left hip, he looks me straight in the eyes, speaking in a tone that leaves no room for me to question if he is serious or not.

  “You can always trust me, Nicole.”

  His words hit me deep in my soul.

  I know in that moment, as I look into his eyes and as his hands touch mine, that he’s right. I can trust him.

  “I trust you,” I whisper.

  “Good,” he states.

  We break away from staring at each other only when the elevator reaches the lobby floor and the doors glide open.

  “Let’s go explore the city together,” Dante proclaims as he tugs me towards the front doors that lead outside.

  Dante

  The sound of paddles slapping the water plays on repeat in the background so perfectly that it’s calming. Water sloshes around us, drumming against the small vessel as we float farther down the canal.

  The way Nicole’s eyes had lit up when she saw the gondola, I knew we had to go for a ride.

  Judging by the smile now imprinted on her face, I’d say it was a good call.

  “This is amazing,” she says, eyes honing in on mine. “Thank you.”

  “I said I’d show you Venice,” I reply, gesturing around us with one arm. “What do you think?”

  “It’s gorgeous.”

  Her eyes take on a hazy look as they scan our surroundings with wonder.

  My own can’t get enough of her, all of her. I love the way those pants hug her long slim legs and her top clings tightly to her. The scarf around her neck blowing behind her in the breeze adds perfec
tion to the picture.

  Like the gondola, I knew when she saw the scarf that I had to give it to her. It’s the softest silk money can buy, in colors that seem to make her flawless skin glow.

  She had balked at the price at first, insisting that it was too much.

  Instead of arguing with her, I simply acted. Life was like that for me. No arguments or debates.

  I like to take action. And buying the scarf for her was me doing just that.

  The thrill I got when I wrapped it around her slim neck, fingers brushing lightly at her skin, was well worth it.

  She notices me staring, turning back to me in question.

  “The scarf really looks great,” I say, not wanting to overwhelm her with my real thoughts—that she’s the single most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.

  “Thank you.”

  The way one side of her mouth twitches as she says it makes me feel like she’s looking through me, knowing without question what’s really going on in my head.

  Part of me hopes she is. It would certainly make this a lot easier for me.

  She continues to look around in awe, her eyes frantically jumping around, not wanting to miss a single thing.

  “Dante, look over there.” Her fingers point to her right. “Oh, you missed it.”

  There are many of those moments, and it’s hard to keep up with her.

  I do try to mimic her, repeatedly forcing my eyes to stray to the scenery.

  Without fail, though, they’re pulled back to her.

  She suddenly sits up straighter, her eyes locking on to something to the side of the boat.

  “Oh my god,” she says, leaning farther toward the edge.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s…a bird. Oh no!”

  I follow her gaze, finding the source of her concern. Just a few feet away, a baby bird flaps feebly on the water, its feathers drenched. Small squeaks spill from its mouth—so quiet I wouldn’t have noticed if I weren’t listening for it.

  “It’s still alive!” she calls, now half standing in order to lean over the side.

  “Nicole,” I say in warning, “be careful.”

  She waves my concern away with the flick of one hand, her attention fully focused on the drowning animal.

  “Really—” I begin, just as she leans closer to the water.