The Prince's Bride

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “There is no purporting. I am a rake and a rascal.”

  “Then speak of the discussion you wished to have with me, the one which requires complete privacy between us here in the library.”

  “Sì, we must speak of that important issue immediately.” He released her, slowly lowered to one knee, one of her hands still held in his firm grip.

  “What are you doing?” Shocked, she could barely lug in a breath. A man never went down on bended knee unless he had the desire to offer a proposal of marriage. “Please, I—”

  “It’s only right I ask this question at your feet.” He cleared his throat. “Lady Olivia Trentbury, I’d like to request your hand in marriage.”

  “I—I—” She swayed, black dots dancing everywhere.

  Chapter 7

  “Olivia?” Anteros remained on one knee as the color drained from Olivia’s face and she went completely ashen.

  “D-did—” She opened her mouth, closed it again, then blinked repeatedly. “Did you just ask me to marry you?”

  “I did. Allow me to explain why.” He surged back to his feet and taking her hand, tugged her across to the elegant wine-red settee in front of the wall of redwood library shelves holding beautiful leather-bound books. Once he’d settled her of the settee, he eased down and faced her. “I once told you that the seer, Shira Ria, informed me that you and I are destined to continually cross paths.”

  “Yes, I recall that day when you spoke of her. We were in the museum.”

  “Well, Shira has recently read my future again and she saw that I would soon have a conversation with my father, one that would result in a change, one that would ensure heartache if I adhered to my father’s request. Shira advised me instead to follow my instincts on the issue, which I did.”

  “That still doesn’t make any sense.”

  “My father wishes to force a politically arranged marriage on me, one to a girl of sixteen.”

  A shocked gasp. “Sixteen is young.”

  “She is Emperor of Austria’s daughter, the Archduchess Clementina, and I fully agree, sixteen is too young. Which is why I’ve come up with a plan to circumvent any marriage from happening. My request for your hand actually comes as a plea, one that will not end in actual marriage vows being spoken.”

  “Your marriage proposal to me is a ploy?” Her gaze went wide. “Oh, I’m a decoy? Correct?”

  “Yes. If I wish to be rid of Father and this forced marriage, then I need your aid in being a decoy.”

  “My family owes you a great debt, one I’ve always wished to repay. I’m listening.” She settled back, folded her hands in her lap, the flickering flames of the fire casting a golden light over her, the glow caressing her angelic wings and sparkling off the embedded crystals. “Please continue.”

  Thankfully, she was still listening. Now, to outline his plan.

  “My father can be a beast at times, even if he means well, so I have reached an agreement with him, that I would take an English lady as my wife. I gave him your name and stated you were the only lady to whom I’d ever consider entering into holy matrimony with.” He rose and collected the glass of wine, returned and handed it to her, his knees bumping into hers on the settee. “He’s well aware I’ve no desire to marry at all, has even placed a spy in my midst to ensure I go through with the ceremony. Signore Piero Bruno is my father’s man who currently tails me. He is downstairs as we speak, Adrestia keeping him occupied so I might have this conversation with you.”

  “Adrestia knows about all of this?”

  “Yes, Giovani too. You see arranged marriages are the accepted form of marriage in my family line. Father himself wed my mother out of duty, and out of duty my mother accepted him as her husband.”

  “Many marriages are made out of duty, with girls from Society barely into their first Season before finding themselves engaged and planning their weddings. Sixteen though.” She sipped her wine, handed the fluted glass back to him. “That is a terribly young age to be taking on the duty of being a wife.”

  “I’ve no desire to be a husband to one so young either, nor to take a wife at all. Not when that would only expose her to my dangerous activities out at sea.” He gulped a mouthful then cradled the drink between his legs, elbows to his knees. “What I need to know is if you would consider speaking false marriage vows with me? I do have a plan.”

  “Please, enlighten me.”

  “Well, if you agree to offering me your aid, then first you would need to sail with me to the island of Paradiso.”

  “Where the wine came from?” She tapped the glass in his hands.

  “Yes, the island used to belong to my grandfather, being unentailed land that he passed directly onto me following his death. Adrestia and I were raised there. A stipulation in Grandfather’s will ensures that Paradiso is the only place where either she or I can legally marry, which comes directly from the unusual circumstances surrounding our births. Grandfather also decreed one further condition, primarily to ensure no one could dispute the legality of any marriage my sister and I entered into, either under Naples or Sicilian law. That condition is that one of my immediate family members must be present at the ceremony when the vows are spoken. That shall be Adrestia, if you agree to my plan.”

  “I see.” A slow nod. “How do you intend to ensure the marriage isn’t legitimate?”

  “We’ll be speaking false marriage vows.” Gently, he touched the backs of his fingers to the creamy soft skin of her cheek. “I’ve considered your reputation while constructing my plan, and of how I shall keep it firmly intact.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I came prepared.” He placed the wine glass on the floor by his feet, removed a sealed missive from the pocket of his tailored breeches and handed it to her. “This invitation is from Maria Cristina, the Duchess of Genoa who is currently residing in Sicily at the Royal Palace of Palermo, her parents’ home. It is an invitation for you to spend time at the palace and to attend the forthcoming ball in the duchess’s honor.”

  “Surely you jest?” Shock widened her eyes, then excitement shimmered in their golden depths. “I’ve heard word of the ball, even from these faraway shores. How on earth did you secure such a sought-after invitation for me?”

  “The duchess owed me a favor. Both you and Adrestia have invites.”

  “Oh my.” She traced one finger over the royal seal embedded into the red wax, slid her finger under the seal and unfolded the thick piece of parchment, the invite lavishly styled with Olivia’s name prominent on the first line. Her hands trembled. “I can barely believe I’m holding onto this. Mama would never allow me to decline such a sought-after invitation, although I’ll need a suitable chaperone of course. My maid. A footman too who could serve as my guard on the journey.”

  “You don’t wish to ask your mama to sail with us as your chaperone?” He had no issue if she did. He’d find a way to explain things—the ruse—to her mama.

  “No, she cannot tolerate being on water. She suffers from terrible sea sickness whenever forced to sail.” She refolded the invite. “It would be best if I kept the actual truth about this whole ruse from her, otherwise Mama will only worry unnecessarily.”

  “Does that mean you’re agreeing to my plan?”

  “It does, yes. I shall indeed speak false marriage vows with you, Anteros. You’ve done so much for my family and I simply can’t step away when you have such a great need. I do have a question though. Will you be rid of Bruno once we speak these false marriage vows on Paradiso?”

  “I will, and hopefully I’ll never have to come into contact with Bruno again.”

  “This is almost unbelievable.” She jiggled about on the settee, a giddy laugh escaping her. “I shall soon see the Mediterranean and faraway lands, which shall be a dream come true. I’ve always wished to spread my wings and experience all the world has to offer, and now here you are offering me that exact possibility, albeit with an unusual request on the side.”

  “So I should consider mysel
f engaged?” Had she truly agreed to his request?

  “Yes, you may, falsely engaged of course.” She rose from the settee, crossed the carpeted floor of woven reds and blues, released the ribbon on her dance card and tossed it into the crackling flames of the fire. Returning to him, her sweet orange blossom scent surrounding him, she twirled about. “I suddenly feel free.”

  “Grazie. I can’t thank you enough for your agreement.” He rose and caught her around her waist. He’d gotten his wish tonight. “I am the luckiest man on—”

  A scuffle erupted in the hallway, loud voices and gruff growls echoing.

  He whisked Olivia in behind him and slid his saber from his scabbard just as the door burst open. Bruno stormed in with Giovani hard on his heels. He pressed his blade to the spy’s thick neck, Giovani’s blade pressed to the man’s nape.

  Bruno snarled, his upper lip curled, his mask removed and his black cloak swaying about his legs. “I’m under strict orders to keep you under my watch.”

  “I don’t require a man to watch me, not every second of every day.” Anger thrummed through him. He wanted to slice Bruno’s head from his shoulders. “I also wouldn’t advise moving, not even an inch, not if you want to keep your head.”

  “Anteros?” Olivia pressed against his back, the warmth of her body calming him a little. “Who is this man who dares to interrupt us?”

  “An idiota.” Nudging the pointed tip of his blade, he broke Bruno’s skin and a thin line of blood dribbled down and soaked his black cravat. He wouldn’t tolerate Bruno throwing his weight around. “You have until the count of three to leave. One.”

  A vein throbbed across Bruno’s wide forehead, then without another word the man swung around and stormed from the room.

  “Mie scuse.” Giovani dipped his head in apology, backed out of the room and closed the door with barely a snick.

  Sheathing his blade, he faced Olivia. “My apologies too. That won’t happen again. Giovani will ensure it.”

  “That wasn’t your fault.” Meeting his gaze, she stepped closer, until the tips of her slippers touched the tips of his booted feet. “Your saber was in your hand before I could even blink. I’ve never witnessed anyone moving that fast before.”

  “If a man doesn’t move fast...he might die.”

  “Do you ever lay your weapons aside?”

  “No.” He’d never met a lady who wouldn’t be trembling at least a little after what she’d just witnessed. Instead, she offered him a soft smile before wandering across to the square-cut windows framed by wine-red damask drapes.

  With her hands pressed to the windowsill, she gazed out over the rear gardens, the night sky having cleared of the darkened clouds and now showcasing a heavenly cascade of twinkling stars within the realm of midnight blue. A light wind blew in from one partially open window, the soft breeze fluttering her golden locks and her angelic wings, the white lace overlay of her gown lit a gentle gold by the moonlight.

  Needing to be closer to her, he crossed the distance separating them.

  He crowded her from behind, swept her hair over one winged shoulder and stuck his nose against the soft skin of her neck. Tiny pearl buttons ran down the length of her spine and with one hand on her hip, he rubbed against her. She had such ripe curves. He nibbled on her earlobe, skimmed his hand around to her belly and caressed the smooth line of her middle.

  “Anteros?” Sucking in a breath, she leaned back against him. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt with another man before.”

  “Have you ever allowed a man to get this close to you?” He ran his tongue along the soft whorls of her ear.

  “No, there have always been boundaries I’ve never crossed.” She tipped her head back against his shoulder, her eyes closing and golden eyelashes sweeping down onto her flushed cheeks.

  “I haven’t taken a lover in over eighteen months.” He wasn’t sure why he’d just admitted that, other than that it seemed important she was aware.

  “Not since before we met?” She lifted one hand and curled it around his neck, the upper swells of her breasts rising as she stretched onto her toes.

  “Sì.” He’d forged a bond with her from the beginning, and even though they’d agreed to be friends and naught more, he’d still had the devil of a time trying to allow another woman’s touch. Of course, eager barmaids in taverns would wiggle their bottoms and jiggle their breasts at him, but he never took them up on their blatant offers.

  “I kissed a man not long ago,” she blurted.

  “Who?” Anger didn’t even begin to express the emotion which suddenly rose within him.

  “I thought kissing would be magical, to share breath with another and for them to share theirs in return. Obviously, I kissed the wrong man.” She turned in his arms and searched his gaze. “Would you show me what kissing is truly meant to be like?”

  “It would be best if I didn’t.” He hadn’t missed how she’d ignored his last question of whom she’d kissed, but perhaps it was best he didn’t know since that would only mean the night wouldn’t end for him without a manhunt underway.

  “Please, Anteros, will you kiss me?” She licked her lips, wetting them in the most enticing way, her golden eyes shimmering all bright and beautiful, her hand on his chest closing over his medallion.

  He swept in and kissed her, parted her lips with his tongue and when she opened for him, he delved deeper into the recesses of her mouth and sighed with complete pleasure as he tasted her with a long swipe of his tongue across her tongue.

  “Oh my.” A gasp against his lips.

  “Come closer.” He locked his arms around her and kissed her with helpless yearning, his cock hardening and pressing against the front flap of his finely-made breeches. He thirsted for even more of her luscious mouth. He kissed her passionately, completely, drawing in her exquisite essence.

  She arched her back, her mouth clinging to his as she pressed her breasts against his chest. “This is wonderful.”

  “Blissfully wonderful.” He made love to her mouth, using all the skills he had in his arsenal. He never wanted her to forget this moment, nor for him to forget it either. Flooded with a wealth of intense emotions and sensations, he fed on her as if she were the finest wine. She quite likely was. He’d never tasted anything more divine.

  “This. Us.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “Tell me this is real.”

  “It’s real.” He grasped her bottom, lifted and seated her on the windowsill, which afforded him the chance to get even closer. Cupping her breasts below the neckline of her gown, he lifted her bosom higher until the upper pink of her nipples showed, then he dipped in and buried his face in her creamy mounds. With a ravenous growl, he muttered, “You’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted to touch you like this.”

  “Really?” With one hand under his chin, she lifted his gaze back to hers, then slowly, gently, she caressed his lower lip with her fingers. “Your kisses are divine.”

  He stuck his face in her neck, kissed her soft skin, her enticing orange blossom fragrance wafting around him. “You truly are an angel, Amore. A wonderful kisser.”

  “I currently have a wonderful teacher. Will you show me what else there can be between two people?”

  “You are asking for trouble.” Although he stroked her breasts, her nipples beading underneath the white lace of her gown. “We need to stop.”

  “No one has ever made me feel the way you do.”

  “Any man could make you feel like this, provided he knew what he was doing.” He captured her mouth again, their kiss going on and on, growing rougher as he plundered and explored her mouth to his heart’s content. When he finally pulled back, he looked deep into her eyes. “I could kiss your luscious mouth all night long.”

  Breathlessly, she leaned back against the window frame, one hand fluttering over her gold locket. “I could easily allow it.”

  “Cease encouraging me. I’ve acted like a rake tonight.”

  “What of me? I’m the one who asked
you to kiss me.”

  “You are an innocent lady, will always be so.” He gripped her hips, lifted her from the windowsill and set her slippered feet back on the carpet.

  “Do you truly prefer bachelorhood? You’ll never change your mind about taking a wife in truth?” The look in her eyes begged him to say otherwise.

  “I’m sorry.” A shake of his head. “I will never marry.”

  Chapter 8

  The next morning Olivia awoke in muddled disbelief, as if she was still half asleep. She curled onto her side, one hand tucked under her cheek, her pillow a soft haven of warmth and the invitation Anteros had handed her lying atop her bedside table, the parchment proof that last night hadn’t been a dream at all, nor his divine kisses. She would soon be sailing on board Anteros’s ship to the Mediterranean, to attend a ball being held at the Royal Palace of Palermo, to speak marriage vows with him, false marriage vows of course, but still, what a journey of excitement she had ahead of her.

  A knock at her door, her maid calling out, “My lady. May I enter?”

  “Yes, do come in.” She sat up, propped her pillow behind her back and smiled as Lucy bustled inside and placed her morning breakfast tray on the table near her window. Her maid swept her floral pink and yellow drapes open before glancing to the gardens below. “It’s windy outside today.”

  “Is it?” From her position in bed, she lifted her chin to get a better look. The sky held bands of gray cloud streaked by the wind. The heavy boughs of the trees swayed, and the brisk breeze sent fallen leaves skittering across the lawn.

  “There might be a shower or two later this afternoon. Do you still wish to ride?” Lucy collected her peach-colored dressing gown and returned to her bedside.

  “Yes, most certainly.” A strong wind had never deterred her from a ride. “Miss Adrestia Bourbon and Captain Bourbon will be here at ten.” She thrust her cherry-colored covers back and swung out of bed, pushed her arms into the sleeves of her robe and tied the sash around her waist. “I’ll wear my royal-blue riding habit. It has woolen skirts and will keep me warm no matter how vigorous the wind gets.”