He had picked up the phone to try her number again when it began to ring.
“Marissa?”
“It’s a girl,” she said, and she sounded so blissfully happy that, for a moment, his mind went blank. “Nearly eight pounds and twenty inches, and absolutely gorgeous.”
“You’re in Tesoro del Mar,” he realized.
“Of course. That’s where Gabby was having the baby.” And then, as if she’d just realized that he might have been worried to arrive home and find his fiancée had disappeared, she said, “Oh, Dante, I’m so sorry. I went into your office to leave a note, but…I got distracted, and then the car was there to take me to the airport and I completely forgot.”
He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. She’d been in his office but she hadn’t seen the pictures. She hadn’t left the palace because she was angry or upset—she left because her sister-in-law was in labor. The knowledge didn’t entirely alleviate his concerns, but Marissa’s explanation reassured him that there wasn’t an immediate crisis.
“It’s the baby thing,” she said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.
“It’s okay,” he said, willing to forget his momentary panic now that the vise around his chest had finally eased. But the sticky note scrawled with the words “You will pay” attached to the back of one of the photos continued to worry his mind and weight on his heart.
“I really want a baby, Dante.”
“That’s hardly a revelation.”
“I don’t mean that I want a baby at some vague point in the future,” she clarified. “I want us to make a baby. Soon.”
The idea of procreating had always seemed to Dante like just another of those royal expectations he was required to fulfill. But a baby with Marissa—yeah, he really wanted that.
“It’s kind of hard to do long-distance,” he warned.
“It’s kind of hard to do without making love,” she pointed out.
“Then I guess I’ll have to let you have your way with me.”
“Really?” She sounded as dubious as she did hopeful. “Because so help me, Dante, if you’re not serious—”
“I am very serious,” he promised her.
“What changed your mind?”
“I looked at the calendar and saw that December twenty-first is too damn far away.”
She laughed. “I’ll be back at two o’clock on Friday.”
“I have meetings all day Friday,” he told her, even as he mentally reviewed his schedule to figure out if there were some things that could be moved around.
“Then I guess we’ll have to wait until Friday night.”
“We could get started sooner if you came back tonight,” he suggested, hoping to tempt her, wanting—almost desperately—to hold her in his arms. Because as soon as she got home, he would tell her about the photos, and then he could finally put that night behind him and look forward to his future with Marissa.
“I’ve got some things to do here tomorrow,” she told him.
“They’re going to put up the Christmas tree in the foyer tomorrow,” he said, hoping her desire to participate in the holiday preparations would convince her to change her plans.
“I’m sorry I’ll have to miss that,” she said.
He took some solace from the fact that she sounded sincerely regretful and crossed his fingers that Naomi wouldn’t make another move until he had a chance to talk to Marissa. Maybe when Naomi threatened to make him pay she was hoping for money, and he would get some kind of blackmail demand before she went public with the photos. And though it chafed to think of giving her anything, he knew he would pay whatever she wanted to keep the pictures out of the media and his fiancée out of the spotlight.
“I miss you already,” he told her.
“I’ve only been gone a few hours.”
And he’d been to hell and back in those few hours, trying to figure out where she’d gone and why she’d left him. Of course, he didn’t admit any of that to her now. He only said, “I guess I’ve just become accustomed to having you around.”
“Then maybe it’s a good thing that I’ll be away for a few days. I wouldn’t want you to start taking me for granted.”
“Never again,” he promised and knew that it was true.
If she would only come home, he would spend every day of the rest of their lives showing her how very much she meant to him.
Marissa was eager to get back to Ardena—to get back to Dante. Unlike the first trip she’d taken on the king’s private plane, this time she experienced absolutely no apprehension about leaving her home. This time, she felt as if she was going home.
In the almost five weeks that she’d spent in Ardena, she’d quickly grown to appreciate the rugged country and its resilient people. She knew she would miss the staff and her routines at PACH, but she’d found new direction and purpose working with Dr. Kalidindi at Mercy. The entire Romero family had welcomed her from the start—Arianna a little more hesitantly than the rest, but now that Marissa knew of her mother’s past with the other woman’s husband, she could understand her reservations—and she’d been honored and humbled by their acceptance. She was looking forward to being part of their family, to sharing the holidays and participating in local traditions with them—including the upcoming olive harvest and the Christmas parade. But the most unexpected and thrilling discovery for Marissa was that she’d fallen in love with the man she was going to marry.
She wasn’t ready to believe that Dante had fallen in love with her, too, but she was hopeful that it might happen. Someday.
When she exited into the arrivals lounge, she was so intent on searching for the chauffeur that her gaze skipped right past her fiancé. It was actually the two broad-shouldered guards flanking him that she spotted first, and when she realized that Dante was there to meet her, her heart skipped a beat.
She hadn’t expected to see him and she was suddenly nervous. She’d only been away three days, but those three days had seemed interminable. She smoothed a hand down the front of her sapphire-colored dress, wondering if he would look at her any differently today and how she would feel if he did.
His gaze skimmed over her slowly, appreciatively, and his lips curved as he made his way toward her.
She curtsied; he bowed; cameras flashed.
“I thought you had meetings all day,” she said.
“I managed to clear my schedule so that I could be here to meet you.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth, and she knew that he wanted to kiss her. She also knew that he was as conscious of the crowd of onlookers as she, so he only lifted her hand to his lips.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,” she said, torn between pleasure and guilt. “But it was a thoughtful gesture.”
“Not a grand gesture?” he teased, referencing a comment she’d made once before.
“That will depend on the vehicle your chauffeur is driving.”
He laughed and offered his arm.
Marissa placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and pretended she didn’t notice all of the heads that turned in their direction. There would be more photos in the paper tomorrow and new headlines, but she refused to let it bother her. She might not have completely overcome her wariness of the media, but she’d accepted that there would be very little privacy in her life with the king of Ardena—and she knew that a few stolen moments with Dante would make everything worthwhile.
She smiled when she saw the glossy stretch Bentley waiting for them. “Okay, I’ll give you grand.”
Thomas greeted her with a formal bow and a quick wink as he reached for the handle of the door. Marissa stepped up into the back of the car—and into a veritable greenhouse.
The back of the limo was absolutely filled with flowers. Buckets and buckets overflowing with colorful, fragrant blooms. She had a moment to think it was a good thing the king’s bodyguards rode in a separate vehicle because there was no room for them back here.
She skimmed a finger over the velvety-sof
t petal of a lavender calla lily as Dante settled beside her. “A very grand gesture,” she amended.
“Flowers are a common element in many courtship rituals,” he told her.
“Are you courting me, Your Majesty?”
“Considering that our wedding is only a few weeks away, it seemed like I should fit that in somewhere.”
“I appreciate the effort,” she assured him, “but you don’t have to wine—”
She broke off, laughing as he popped the cork on a bottle of champagne.
“You were saying?” he prompted.
“That you don’t need to wine and dine me,” she finished, even as she accepted the glass of wine he passed to her.
“Good, because I haven’t planned as far ahead as dinner.” He tapped the rim of his glass against hers. “Welcome home, Marissa.”
And then, finally, he kissed her.
It was a long while later before he said, “I like your dress.”
She smiled, pleased that he had noticed. “Hannah and Gabby convinced me that all the beige in the world wouldn’t insulate the king’s fiancée from public scrutiny, so I decided to show my true colors.”
“I like those true colors—just as long as this isn’t some kind of wardrobe reversal and now your underwear is white cotton,” he said.
She shook her head and whispered, close to his ear, “Purple satin demi-cup bra.”
His lips curved. “Matching bikinis?”
She shook her head again and saw the spark of hope fade. “Matching thong.”
His eyes glittered with heat and hunger. “You really enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”
“Maybe.” She shifted so that her lips hovered just a breath away from his. “Just a little.”
The limo drew to a stop.
Dante took her hand.
She asked no questions and made no protest as he ushered her toward the double front doors on which hung twin wreaths decorated with gold bows. Inside the foyer was the Christmas tree he’d told her about—it was at least fifteen feet tall and elegantly decorated with gold-and-silver balls and bows. But he didn’t give her any time to admire the holiday decor, instead leading her directly upstairs and into his suite.
She held his gaze as he closed the door, her eyes filled with passion and promise as she reached for the tie at the side of her dress. He caught her hands, knowing there was no way he would be able to get a single word out if she unfastened that knot.
“We need to talk.”
Marissa’s hands dropped to her sides as she looked at him, her expression one of both disappointment and dis belief. “You’re telling me that you cleared your schedule this afternoon because you want to talk?”
He let his gaze skim over her again, admiring the way the silky blue fabric of the wrap-style dress molded to her feminine curves and wanting her with a desperation he’d never known before.
“No,” he said honestly, his voice husky with desire. “What I want to do is strip you naked and take you to bed and spend hours showing you how much I missed you.”
Her lips started to curve.
“But I need to be honest with you about something first.”
The smile faded. “That sounds ominous.”
He took her hands, squeezed gently. “I hope not.”
“Then just say it fast and get it over with.”
But somehow he didn’t think blurting out that he’d had sex with another woman the night before they met was going to score him any points. So he decided to start his explanation a little closer to the beginning.
“When I went to Tesoro del Mar in September, it was with the intention of asking you to marry me.”
“But you didn’t even know me then.”
“I knew enough,” he said. “You once asked if it was one of my assistant’s jobs to research the likes and dislikes of my dates. I never went to such lengths for a casual acquaintance, but my advisers felt it was necessary for me to have some basic information about the women who were on the bride list.”
Her brows rose. “The bride list?”
“Sorry—that’s what my brother Matt dubbed it. But it was a list of women that my advisers decided were the most suitable candidates for marriage.”
“And I was on that list because I was a Tesorian princess.”
“You were at the top of the list. And I decided that as long as we were reasonably compatible, I wouldn’t bother to look any further.”
“I’m flattered,” she said, though her tone suggested otherwise.
The phone on his desk rang, but Dante ignored it. He wasn’t going to allow anything to interrupt his confession, because he knew that Marissa needed to know the truth about the secret in his past before they could look to their future together. And she had to know now. Though he couldn’t be certain that the text message he’d received while waiting for Marissa’s plane at the airport had been from Naomi, the brief tick tock was clearly a warning that his time was running out.
“I was prepared to marry for duty rather than desire,” he admitted. “So I was very pleasantly surprised to discover that there was something more between us, right from the beginning.”
He took her left hand, rubbed his thumb over the ring on her third finger. “Do you remember how surprised Francesca was when she realized I’d given you my great-grandmother’s ring?”
She nodded.
“My father had offered it to me before I made that trip and I wouldn’t take it. Because I couldn’t imagine giving a ring that my great-grandfather had given to my greatgrandmother, as an expression of his love and affection, to a woman I was marrying only out of obligation.”
The cell phone in his pocket vibrated and a trickle of unease worked its way down his spine. But he forged ahead, desperate to tell her the truth, to make her understand.
“I chose to give you that ring because my feelings for you changed, because I fell in love with you. And when I put that ring on your finger, I did so knowing that I would always be faithful to the woman who wore it.”
“You…love me?” She sounded so bewildered and she looked up at him with so much love and hope shimmering in her eyes it nearly broke his heart—because he knew that what he was about to tell her might break hers.
“I do love you,” he said again.
A knock sounded on the door. Not a polite tap but an impatient summons.
Marissa’s gaze moved from the door to the phone, which had started to ring again. The cell in his pocket was also vibrating, though she couldn’t know that.
“So far none of this is what I feared,” she said. “So why don’t you tell me what I’m missing?”
Before he could respond, the door opened.
“Dante—” Matt visibly winced when he saw that Marissa was in the room. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” he said to the princess. “But I need to speak with my brother. It’s extremely important.”
But Dante didn’t need Matteo to tell him what he already knew.
The urgency of the ringing phones and his brother’s appearance at his door within days of receiving that package from Naomi could only mean that she’d followed through on her threat. And that somehow, in the short span of time between when Dante met Marissa at the airport and now, the photos had gone viral.
Chapter Fourteen
Marissa didn’t think she’d ever seen Dante sweat. But she could see it now, the light sheen of perspiration on his brow, the tension in his tightly clenched jaw, the pleading in his eyes. And the warmth that had flooded her system when he’d told her he loved her suddenly turned to ice.
“What’s going on, Dante?”
The phone in her purse was ringing now, too, but she didn’t reach for it. She somehow knew that her call was connected to the ringing of his phone and his brother’s presence, but she didn’t want to hear the answer from anyone but Dante.
She glanced at the prince, who was still hovering in the doorway and looking at her with pity and apology in his eyes.
“Photos?” It was the o
nly word Dante spoke to Matt.
His brother nodded.
“I need some time with my fiancée,” the king said.
“Of course,” Matt agreed and backed out, closing the door behind him.
The phone on the desk had stopped ringing again, but her cell continued to chime. She pulled it out of her purse and turned it off. The sudden silence in the room was ominous.
“Photos?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
He swallowed. “It was before I met you.”
“What was before you met me?”
“It was a fling. A one-night stand.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t want you to find out this way.”
“If it was before you met me, why does it matter?” she asked, even though she knew that it did. Dante’s past exploits were hardly a secret, but she was his fiancée now—
She looked down at the ring on her finger.
I chose to give you that ring…because I fell in love with you.
“It doesn’t,” he said, as if he could make her believe it. “Not to me. But there will be talk, speculation that I was with her when I was engaged to you, that I cheated on you.”
“Who is she?”
He ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not…” The question trailed off as a sudden, startling thought came to her.
Was it possible that he was talking about the night of the Mythos Ball? The night she was almost certain that they had spent together?
“Who took the photos?”
“I don’t know,” he said again. “I’d guess Naomi or someone she knows, because copies were delivered to me a few days ago.”
“I want to see them.”
He winced. “Marissa—”
“Aren’t they all over the internet by now, anyway?”
“Probably,” he admitted reluctantly.
She waited while he went over to his desk, unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled out a large envelope.
Her fingers were trembling as she took the package from him. If she was right, the pictures inside would be of Juno and Jupiter. If she was wrong…
Royal Holiday Bride Page 17
