The Princess's New Year Wedding (The Princess Brides Book 1)

by Rebecca Winters

  His response was so unexpected and touching, she could hardly breathe. Alberto had been planning to bring her to Stefano’s hideaway in the mountains?

  Lanza wished she hadn’t brought up his brother’s name while he was still grieving.

  Unsettled, she leaned forward. “Enzo? Did you spend time at the chalet with Stefano when you two were young?”

  “All the time. We skied, mountain climbed, hunted, fished, camped out and had parties.”

  “I’ll bet. Sounds like heaven.”

  “But as we got older we haven’t had as much time to do that as we’ve been busy pursuing our careers.”

  “What kind of work do you do?”

  “I went to university and got my degree in finance. Since then I’ve worked in my father’s bank. Lately I’ve taken over more and more of his duties because his health is failing.”

  “How wonderful for him to have a son like you.”

  Stefano would be doing the same thing for her father. But not Stefano’s own father... Though she knew his sister would be queen one day, she wondered how King Basilio really felt about losing his firstborn son this way. Was Stefano conflicted, as well?

  “It’s very generous of you to drive us to the chalet this late, Enzo.”

  “After all the things Stefano has done for me in my life, I’ll never be able to repay him.” She heard real affection in his tone. Stefano remained quiet.

  The snow continued relentlessly as they climbed in altitude to the higher peaks. Enzo was being very careful. Few cars were on the treacherous mountain road, the kind where Alberto had lost his life.

  She sat back, growing more anxious because they’d be alone soon in his private home away from civilization.

  Before long Enzo turned off the main road and drove along what seemed like a path lined with snow-swept pines winding for several miles. Eventually, he pulled up to a massive gate that swung open electronically. He drove on through and around to an alpine chalet whose roof was covered by at least two feet of snow, but she could barely see the outline.

  Stefano got out to help her. She was glad he’d thought ahead and had brought her new boots to put on. The snow was deep. Under the fresh layer coming down lay more snow from other storms. Enzo took the bags from his car, and they entered Stefano’s secret domain.

  A light went on. The lower level housed everything; shovels, hunting gear, skis, snowshoes, camping gear, snowboards, a snow-shoveling machine, a generator, a freezer and a washer and dryer. Stefano could live here self-contained.

  “Shall we go upstairs?”

  Lanza followed him and Enzo to the next floor where several lamps went on. She was struck immediately by the light wood floors and rafters. On one wall she saw an enormous fireplace set behind glass, lending the vaulted room a chic yet rustic elegance. Stefano turned it on so the flames lit up the interior. Instant heat.

  Attractive twin couches in a claret color faced each other in front of a low, large square coffee table with a colorful ceramic pot. It was probably from Mexico where she’d heard one of his gold mines was located.

  On one wall stood a massive breakfront with books on two shelves. There were many small pictures of Stefano’s family on a third shelf. The bottom one contained magazines and board games.

  She turned around to view the floor-to-ceiling windows that would give a spectacular mountain outlook during the day. There was a refectory-style table and chairs off the kitchen with its wood cabinets and slate floors.

  Enzo had disappeared down a hallway with their luggage. When he reappeared, he paused at the stairway. “I wish the two of you every happiness and a wonderful honeymoon. Now I’ve got to get back to my own wife.”

  “Thank you for everything, Enzo.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Be careful going down the canyon. That’s a heavy snow out there.”

  He smiled. “We’re used to it, aren’t we, Stefano?”

  Her husband nodded. “I’ll walk you out.” Before he left the room, he turned to Lanza. “I’m sure you must be exhausted. Your bedroom is down the hall to the left. Just so you know, earlier this month I asked Carla to buy you some winter clothes. When I returned to Umbriano a few days ago, I put them in your closet.”

  “That was very thoughtful. Thank you.”

  He nodded. “If you’re hungry or thirsty, make yourself at home in the kitchen. I have things to do so I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll talk then.” The two men disappeared down the stairs.

  In the letter Stefano had couriered to her a year ago, he’d warned Lanza there’d be no wedding night. She’d taken him at his word and there’d been no mention of it during their exchange of emails.

  While they were gone, Lanza explored the rest of the chalet. There were two bedrooms with light wood floors, rugs and en-suite bathrooms. Her bags had been put in what was obviously a guest bedroom with a queen-size bed and dresser. A TV sat on top of it. She removed her coat and boots, putting them in the closet where she saw the winter clothes.

  After finding a pair of flats in one of her cases, she put them on and decided to do the rest of her own unpacking in a little while.

  Curious to see everything, she went across the hall. Stefano’s bedroom showed signs of being permanently occupied with a cubby full of various winter wear. He had his own TV and radio. A mural that showed the Casale gold mines around the world took up one wall. She intended to study it, but not when he was around.

  The desk on the other wall contained a state-of-the-art computer and printer, ledgers, mining books, everything he needed for his work. His bags had been placed at the end of the king-size bed.

  Afraid to be caught trespassing in his thoroughly masculine domicile, she hurried back to the living room and wandered into the kitchen. The fridge appeared stocked with food and drinks. Over the past few days Stefano must have been busy getting all this ready.

  She reached for a cola and walked back to the main room to examine some of the books. The Thirty-Nine Steps by John Buchan caught her attention. She wondered if Stefano had read it recently, or even read it at all. She took it to the bedroom with her and shut the door.

  How bizarre to be alone with a strange man who’d only been her husband for about nine hours.

  Needing to unwind, she opened her cases and unpacked the rest of her clothes. In one of the pockets she’d packed her wrapped gift for Stefano. She pulled it out and put it on the dresser to give him in the morning.

  When everything was done, she took a shower, then brushed out her hair. Eventually, she was ready for bed. Though she’d brought reading material in her luggage, she decided to read the book she’d taken from the living room.

  Once she’d climbed under the covers, she turned on the bedside lamp and started to read. Soon she found it hard to concentrate because she kept listening for sounds that Stefano had gone to bed, too. Inside the chalet it was quiet as a tomb. Beyond these walls the wind moaned and snow pelted the bedroom windows.

  She turned off the lamp and snuggled deeper under the covers. In one way Lanza had never felt so isolated and alone, but in truth she loved it. Her life had always been planned out. Her parents had done her thinking for her. The wedding that had been organized for a year was over and now she was a married woman.

  To the wrong prince.

  But her parents were happy. So were his. Perhaps it meant her father’s life had been preserved for a few years longer. Her thoughts wandered. Alberto would have brought her here for their honeymoon. Stefano was attempting to fulfill all his younger brother’s wishes.

  Before she fell asleep she wondered what her new husband would have wanted and done if he were in love with her.

  When morning came Lanza walked over to the window. Snow was still falling, revealing a white world. She checked her watch: 9:40 a.m. What a surprise! She rarely slept late.

  Slipp
ing into a new pair of black wool pants and a red sweater, both of which fit her to perfection, all she had to do was fix her hair. It fell from a side part she gathered at the nape with an elastic band. After applying lipstick, she reached for Stefano’s small gift and left the bedroom.

  On the way down the hall she smelled coffee. She had no idea how long he’d been up because there’d been no sound. Last night she hadn’t been hungry. This morning she was starving and headed for the kitchen.

  Lanza found him cooking what she considered a full American breakfast. Eggs, bacon, toast. Why not? He’d received his education in Colorado. After exchanging emails for the past year, she’d learned Stefano had spent a lot of time in the States at his gold mine in South Dakota.

  This morning he’d dressed in a navy hoodie and jeans that molded his powerful thighs. His five-o’clock shadow and disheveled hair added to his disturbing male presence. Her unwanted attraction to him was growing. Perhaps he’d been outside already and had worked up an appetite.

  “Good morning, Stefano.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  STEFANO HAD BEEN wondering when his wife would awaken and make an appearance. He couldn’t prevent his gaze from traveling over her beautiful face and curvaceous body, not missing one inch of her. Her long chestnut hair against the red sweater took his breath.

  “Buon giorno, sposa mia.”

  She smiled. “You look like you slept well. What can I do to help?”

  “Our food is ready. Come in the dining room and we’ll eat. I’ve already fixed our coffee.” He carried their plates and put them on the table. She followed him and placed her gift next to his food before sitting opposite him.

  He eyed it with curiosity. “Am I to open this now?”

  “Whenever you’d like, but I’m afraid it’s not like the gift you gave me because it has no monetary value.”

  “Now you’ve intrigued me. I think I’ll wait until later.”

  She spooned sugar into her coffee after pouring some from the carafe. Without waiting for him, she dug in and helped herself to two more helpings of bacon, which pleased him.

  “This breakfast is delicious. I could get used to it. You’re welcome to do all the cooking for as long as we’re here.”

  He stopped munching on his toast. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it occurred to me you might not like it up here. Alberto wasn’t entirely sure, either. In that case, I’ve planned to drive us around some of the Mediterranean countries you mentioned you hadn’t visited in your emails.”

  “That’s very considerate of you.” She finished eating everything and eventually sat back to eye him through her dark lashes. “You’re an awesome bridegroom. Feed your bride an excellent meal before doing anything else. But before we discuss how to spend our honeymoon, I’d like to hear you lay out the rules of engagement.”

  Her response let him know she’d not forgotten that message he’d sent her a year ago. But he was in an entirely different place now.

  “That wasn’t my best choice of words at the time. I wish I’d put it a different way. Let’s agree this situation wasn’t what either of us had anticipated. For want of a better word, I see our marriage as one of convenience for a way to begin.”

  Her eyes pulsed a deep blue. “Didn’t that quaint expression get thrown out decades ago?”

  “Possibly,” he murmured, wishing he hadn’t used that word, either.

  “Please go on and explain the details. I like the sound of it if it means we can do whatever we want and open the door of our cage to unknown possibilities.”

  He took a long time to finish drinking his coffee. “Not all the time. When there are public duties, we’ll have to do them together.”

  “Naturally, but you’re the one my father is going to lean on, not me,” she emphasized. “He doesn’t believe a woman should rule. I’m afraid you’ve gotten the brunt.”

  Stefano rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “There’ll be times when I’ll have to be gone for long periods.”

  “You mean that you’ll leave to do your engineering work and come back each time to rule when you’ve finished your business. In that case, when you’re away I’ll be able to indulge myself without anyone telling me I can’t. This could work.”

  He frowned. “You do understand what I’m saying. For the time being we’ll be living in separate bedrooms.”

  “Of course. I took that for granted the moment I read your missive a year ago about not having a wedding night. In fact, I assumed as much before I told my parents I would accept your proposal. How long do you see our separate bedrooms lasting?”

  If she only knew he didn’t want separate bedrooms. He already desired her. “Shall we say until we’ve become comfortable with each other?”

  “That sounds reasonable. I’ll admit that marrying you has already given me the freedom I didn’t think I’d ever have.”

  “What are you insinuating?”

  “Alberto and I were trapped and understood our duty.” Stefano was stunned. Had she honestly felt that way when she’d been engaged to his brother? “But marriage to you under the rules you’ve set out means we’ll both be able to do whatever we desire to a greater degree, right?”

  He didn’t like what she was saying. Not at all. “At some juncture we’ll have to talk about having children.”

  She sat back. “That’s true. As you said, we need time to become comfortable with each other.”

  “Alberto’s death changed many things for me. I find I’m looking forward to having children with you.”

  “Even though you gave up the royal life at eighteen?”

  Stefano cocked his head. “But I took it back again to marry you. Sometimes people and circumstances change.”

  She eyed him over her coffee cup. “If we do this thing right, it will let us off the hook in more ways than one, if you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not sure I do,” he said.

  “While you’re off doing gold-mining business around the world, I can be busy carrying out my charity works, which are considerable.”

  “Alone?”

  She stared at him. “What are you implying?”

  “You know what I’m asking. Has there been another important man in your life? It would be understandable, of course. I just want to be clear about where we stand.”

  “Only Alberto.” Hearing that admission didn’t help Stefano’s understanding. “I’m afraid I’m one of a dying breed. Your parents and mine made sure I’m pure as the proverbial snow burying us alive as we speak.

  “Alberto was my betrothed for a year. And, according to him, you were never bound to one woman. In case you only suspected it, Stefano, he adored you. The only time he truly showed passion was when he talked about you.”

  Her mention of Alberto had again reached a private region of his soul. Before he could say another word, she got up from the table. After taking her dishes to the counter in the kitchen, she returned to the dining room.

  “I need to be excused for a few minutes, but I’ll be back. Maybe now would be a good time for you to open your wedding present. When you see what’s inside, you’ll understand why it really should belong to you. During the twelve months we were engaged, it’s the only thing Alberto ever sent to me.”

  Surprised that Alberto had anything to do with Lanza’s wedding present to him, Stefano was more bewildered than ever. Worse, he hated that his eyes lingered on her womanly figure as she disappeared to the other part of the chalet.

  He’d never spent a more uncomfortable hour with a woman in his life, and she was his wife! The fact that she had an allure that appealed to him only compounded his frustration.

  Unable to concentrate on anything, he got up from the table and cleared the rest of the dishes. After he’d cleaned up the kitchen, he walked back to the dining
room.

  Her gift lay on the table unopened. He couldn’t imagine what she might have given him relating to his brother. The youngest daughter of King Victor could be unpredictable, so it seemed.

  When he realized he was making too much of it, he undid the gold paper around the flat, three-by-four-inch box. As he lifted the lid, he saw his own face looking up at him. The black-and-white photo took him back in time. He remembered sending it to Alberto, who was always after him to send him pictures.

  A friend had taken it while he was in Kenya at the mine. He drew it from the box. There was a note folded beneath it. He smoothed it out.

  Dear Lanza,

  After I returned home from my last visit to Domodossola, I decided to send you this photo of Stefano at twenty-two because you said you wanted to get to know me better and asked me what I treasured most.

  As I told you, I’ve always missed him and wished he were here. No one ever had a better brother.

  I’ll never stop loving him and hope this helps you to understand the sadness you sometimes glimpse in me. I’ve always considered him my other half. Life has never been quite the same without him.

  Alberto

  Stefano closed his eyes tightly, squeezing the paper in his hand. Gripped by emotions churning inside him, he remained there for countless minutes. When he could function, he dashed down the stairs for his ski outfit and gloves. The need to be alone propelled him outside into the storm, which hadn’t abated. He was surprised it had gone on this long.

  The deep snow made it difficult to walk, but he was so churned up, nothing mattered. He kept going for several hours, working off the adrenaline surging through him.

  He would never have credited Lanza with enough sensitivity to give him a priceless treasure like the one in the box. Though he’d believed his parents, the note and photo to Lanza was further verification that everything they’d told him about his younger brother’s desire for Stefano to be free was true.

  He found himself suffering all over again for Alberto’s willingness to rule while Stefano was allowed to wander the globe doing exactly what he wanted. Stefano had missed his brother, too, so much at times he’d wondered if his freedom had been worth it.