The Prince's Bride

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “Most certain, and I’m sorry.” Needing to reassure him, she held out her arms and he caught her as she slid from his saddle, her feet hovering an inch or two above the ground as he held her against him. She embraced his strength, asked softly, “What is the Italian word for ‘hero?’”

  “Eroe.” Huskily spoken as he rubbed his nose against her nose.

  “And for ‘kiss me?’”

  “Baciami?” He looked deep into her eyes. “We are getting too close.”

  “Perhaps, or perhaps not close enough.” Glad that she’d lost Sawman during the race, she pushed her fingers into his silky black hair and stroked his scalp. “Thank you for being my eroe.”

  “Say the rest,” he demanded. “I want you to.”

  “Baciami?” she whispered, then caught her breath as his eyes darkened with passion, his gaze lowering to her lips.

  “Is everything all right?” A man appeared atop a horse, his dark coat flapping over the rump of his mount, a jagged scar bisecting one side of his face. The man who’d interrupted them last night. Signore Piero Bruno.

  “Everything is fine. You though, have the worst timing.” With a low growl, Anteros lifted her back into his saddle and mounted up behind her. A glance back at the man, along with a huff. “Bruno, allow me to introduce Lady Olivia Trentbury. My lady, meet Signore Piero Bruno, my father’s man.”

  “My lady, I apologize for my intrusion during your conversation with the captain in the library last eve. I took my duty to his father a little too far.” Bruno dipped his head, his eyes so black in color she couldn’t even make out the difference between his irises and pupils.

  “Apology accepted.”

  “Bruno, bring Lady Olivia’s horse with you.” Anteros nudged his stallion into a gentle trot, leaving Bruno behind.

  “You don’t like him, do you?” She wriggled to get a better look over his shoulder at the spy.

  “There are no polite words to describe Bruno. Meanwhile you”—he caught an errant lock of her hair and twirled it around one finger, intrigue burning in his expressive eyes—“are beyond enchanting.”

  “Not only did Mama give me her blessing to travel to Sicily, but she also tossed some helpful advice in too.” She pressed her lips to his ear and blew a soft breath against his lobe.

  “Which was...”

  “To follow my heart, just as she followed hers with Papa.” She stroked along his firm jaw. “I miss him so much. He was honorable and loving, and I hope when I do eventually marry, it will be to a man exactly like him.”

  “Tell me more about your papa.”

  “His love for Mama and my brothers and sisters was so great, that even years later, his light still shines all around us. We miss him greatly of course, but our grief has eased over the years and now only wonderful memories of him arise when we think of him.” Although sharing what she had about Papa with him brought tears to her eyes. She blinked and pushed those tears away. “My apologies.”

  “Don’t ever fear showing your emotions around me.” He tucked her head against his shoulder, murmured over the top of her head. “You bring forth in me the fierce desire to protect you.”

  “You do the same with me.” She wriggled in his lap, something very large suddenly poking her in the bottom. Another wriggle and when he groaned, she gasped. “Are you all right?”

  “Please, remain very still.” He weaved through the thickening trees, so dense now she could no longer spot Bruno behind them. Goodness knows where Sawman had gotten to. Another poke. Another groan from him.

  “What is that?” She wriggled some more.

  “It is at times like these that I am reminded of exactly how innocent you truly are, and of how unsuitable I am for you.” He flicked open the top two buttons of her royal-blue jacket, hooked one finger underneath the ruffles at her neck and lifted her locket free before settling it where he could see it. Dipping his head to the pounding pulse point in her neck, he sucked the skin deep into his mouth.

  “Anteros?” She leaned her head back. “That feels wonderful.”

  He released her skin with a soft pop, caught her hand and lowered it to his crotch, right over the thing currently poking her. “This is my cock, or you could call it a penis. It is a man’s appendage, and when stirred to life it hardens and rises.” He spread her fingers fully around the bulge. “My cock currently hungers for something which an innocent lady like you should never allow it to hunger for.”

  “It’s incredibly firm and thick and long.”

  A devilish lift of his lips. “It feels agonizingly good when you touch me there.” He glided her hand up and down his covered length and sweet heaven, he lengthened and thickened even further. “When a man gets as hard as I presently am,” he continued with a throaty moan, “he will wish to push his cock between your legs and take you in the way only a husband should with his wife.”

  “Oh, I see.” Eyes going wide, she lifted her hand free of his manhood. “How enlightening.”

  “Have I frightened you?”

  “Did you wish to frighten me?”

  “I wished to inform you of exactly how far you test my patience. If you want an affair, I’m your man, but if you want marriage, then you must look elsewhere.” He guided his horse along the forested pathway, its hooves crunching pine needles and leaves, the wind rising with a howl as it swept through the swaying boughs overhead.

  “I trust you, Anteros.”

  “I know you do.” A caress of his hand along the lower curve of her back, his gaze sweeping down her neck and over the upper swells of her breasts. Desire. Need. Want. It all flared in his eyes as he lifted his gaze back to hers. “Amore, you tempt me beyond my endurance.”

  Her cheeks heated, her nipples hardening into tight peaks, while warmth pooled in her middle then dropped to center firmly between her thighs. “You tempt me beyond mine too.”

  He jerked his horse to a halt, muttered, “I can hear Adrestia. Our spot along the lake is directly through those trees. I need a moment alone, to calm my cock.”

  “I’ll walk. Let me down.” She’d aid him however she could.

  “Thank you.” He swung one leg over and dismounted, his booted feet thumping the ground, then he lifted her down and let her go.

  She dashed through the trees, not wanting to leave him, but doing so all the same.

  Chapter 9

  The moment Anteros was back in Olivia’s company, he had taken liberties with her that he shouldn’t have. Right now all he wanted to do was make chase after her, to take her in his arms and kiss her again, exactly as he’d longed to do since their time together in the library had ended last eve. She was such a temptation, his angel a woman he desperately desired an affair with.

  Slowly, he got his cock back under better control, just as Bruno joined him with Olivia’s horse. He accepted the reins of her mount, grudgingly thanked the man and walked into the clearing by the lake, Bruno remaining at the verge of the woods.

  Dainty yellow buttercups bobbed their heads within the lush grass, the trees surrounding the meadow forming a perfect half circle up to the edge of the lake, the reflection of the forest shimmering within the swell of the water.

  Adrestia and Olivia stood at the shoreline, both ladies waving to Giovani as he sailed a skiff toward their private spot by the lakefront. Even after only a couple of days back on land, the choppy waves and brisk winds provided an incredible lure for him. A sail along the Serpentine later this afternoon would help ease that longing deep within his blood.

  Leading his and Olivia’s horses to the tree where his sister’s mount grazed, he passed by the picnic his footman had laid out on a dark green and white tartan blanket, cutlery and glasses set next to the covered dishes which held his chef’s wonderful fare. A pounding of hooves and Sawman emerged from the trees looking a whole lot flustered.

  After securing the horses to a low branch, Anteros continued on toward the ladies.

  Olivia faced the lakefront, her royal-blue habit’s skirts collect
ing sand along the hem from the sandy shore in front, the short train at the back flaring across the grassy verge behind her. She had a beautiful hourglass figure, her waist tapering in, then the sweet curve of her hips arching out. She enticed him beyond measure, his fingers itching to strip her bare. If they were all alone, he might already have toppled her to the grass so he could roll around with her.

  Such a ruthless need, a craving that wouldn’t be sated until he’d had her. He was sure of it. Hell, he would pleasure her well if she allowed his touch.

  Olivia hooked an arm through Adrestia’s arm, tipped her gaze to the skies, the wind caressing her face. “Mmm, I can’t believe I’ll soon be sailing to the Mediterranean. Someone needs to pinch me so I know this is all real.”

  “It’s real,” he answered as he stepped in beside her, his hands stuffed in his pockets so he didn’t actually pinch her. He’d nip her bottom if he could.

  “Captain!” A shout from Giovani as his man lowered the sail, skimmed the waves and bounded into the knee-deep water. Giovani grabbed the bow, dragged the skiff up onto the sand and slapped him on the back as he joined him. “I’ve hired this skiff for the remainder of the day. It’s all yours when you wish for a sail.”

  “You have my thanks.”

  Giovani offered the ladies an elegant bow. “Good morning, ladies, or I should say good afternoon since it’s now after midday. I’m famished and fairly certain I can smell chicken pie.”

  “Me too. Let’s see what’s under those silver domes.” Adrestia curved her hand through Giovani’s arm and the two led the way to the picnic spread out under the dappled shade of an elm tree.

  “May I escort you to the picnic?” He extended his arm to Olivia.

  “You certainly may.” She accepted his arm and they strolled across.

  His sister sank down on one of the two blankets, Giovani dropping in beside her. A lift of the domes covering the dishes and Adrestia clapped. “Oh my, our chef has delivered all of my favorites. Warm chicken pie, ham and cheese sandwiches, and scotch eggs. I’ll serve the pie. Everyone, help yourselves to the sandwiches and eggs.”

  Giovani patted his rumbling stomach as he accepted a plate of pie from Adrestia. He dove into it and mumbled his appreciation around a huge mouthful.

  “Where are your manners, Giovani?” Still standing, Olivia laughed as she unbuttoned her royal-blue riding jacket and folded it. “You’re not supposed to eat before all the ladies are seated.”

  “Mie scuse.” He stuffed more pie into his mouth. “Hurry and sit so I don’t appear so atrociously unpolite.”

  Another laugh as Olivia seated herself on the blanket and dropped her folded jacket on the grass behind her. A fluff of her long skirts as she ensured she covered her ankles, then she tugged off her gloves and released the ribbons holding her blue riding hat in place, her hair shimmering with soft and bright shades of gold down her back. A pat of the space next to her. “There’s plenty of room. Come and sit beside me, Amati.”

  “You need only ask me once.” He sprawled out beside her, and needing to touch her, lifted one of her long curls and allowed the golden strands to slip through his fingers. “Il mio bellissimo angelo, feed me.”

  “Pie first?” She sent him a veiled look through her lowered lashes.

  “Yes,” he whispered in her ear as he tried hard to keep from sliding one hand around her nape and drawing her mouth to his. No more than three inches separated them and he wished there were far less.

  She glanced at Adrestia and Giovani who chatted quietly to each other as they ate, then she placed a plate of pie holding two slices between them on the blanket. Cutlery in hand, she cut into it and held the first forkful to his mouth. When he opened, she slid the morsel between his lips and he chewed while she forked a bite for herself. She slapped her lips together over the fork and moaned her delight.

  The most wicked moan he’d ever heard. One that did strange things to his heart.

  Damnation, but he liked watching her eat, how she closed her eyes for just a moment so she could savor the taste, then how she opened her eyes and licked her lips once she’d swallowed. Mmm, he wanted to capture her mouth and eat her rather than the pie.

  “Do you want some more?” she murmured as she dangled another forkful in front of his mouth.

  “Per favore.” He wrapped his hand around her fingers and clamped his mouth down on the fork.

  She giggled, tugged her fingers free and ate some more pie. “You and Giovani have the same terrible manners.”

  “I have never professed to having any manners at all.” He accepted another forkful which she held out for him. “Are you enjoying your afternoon?” he asked after he swallowed.

  “Yes, immensely. I’m feeling very fortunate too. I’m here with close friends, enjoying wonderful food and making new memories. There is nothing I enjoy more.” She leaned in, brushed a crumb from his chin then continued in a whisper, “You appear more relaxed now. I like this unrestrained side of you.”

  “You wouldn’t if you realized how very close I am to pouncing on you.”

  “Manners, sir.” Smiling, she tapped his nose, then she selected a scotch egg, her gaze going to the water and suddenly becoming rather pensive. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you, but my papa used to bring me to this lake all the time when I was a child. He’d hire a skiff as you’ve done today, then he’d sail us along the length of the Serpentine. We’d stop somewhere along the shoreline, eat sandwiches and feed the birds. I remember each and every outing as if it were yesterday.”

  “I wish I could have met him.” He touched the back of one hand to her soft cheek.

  “I wish you could’ve too.” She remained perfectly still, a vulnerable look filling her eyes, her voice lowered as she whispered, “Do you believe it’s possible for us to belong to someone, from the day we first meet them?”

  “Pardon?”

  “I mean, my parents did. They loved each other from the very beginning. Do you think my question an unusual one?”

  “Yes, and belonging to someone, well, that all sounds rather fanciful to me.”

  “Which means you don’t believe it’s possible.” A sad statement. She went quiet as she glanced out over the water again. A long minute passed before she looked at him once more and when she did, her gaze snagged on the medallion holding his cobra insignia. “How did you come by that precious piece?”

  “That is quite the story. I was young, still a boy at the time when I found it.” A story he’d never shared with anyone, other than Adrestia and Giovani.

  “Please, tell me the story.” The look of longing in her eyes...

  ...hell, it melted his resolve. “Ten, I was at the time.”

  “Keep going,” she urged when he stopped for a second.

  “I used to spend many afternoons exploring the underground tunnels of my grandfather’s archeological site on Paradiso.”

  “Your paternal or maternal grandfather?”

  “Ah, well interestingly, the man I called my grandfather was in fact my godfather, a close relative on my father’s side, so paternal. One day when I was deep within Grandfather’s tunnels, I came across a small slit in the rock wall which opened up two or three feet farther in. At the time Grandfather had commissioned an engineering professor to aid him in building a pulley system so he could hoist the ancient artifacts from deep within the ruins up to the surface. His desire was to preserve the artifacts for future generations. The professor’s seven-year-old daughter was with me when I discovered the slit. Over the next few weeks, she and I managed to chip away at the rock wall until we’d finally gotten that slit wide enough so I could edge my scrawny body through. A small cavern opened up from that slit, rocks and dust everywhere, as well as my medallion hooked on a crevice. Someone must have tossed it through the slit, the piece lost for centuries until I claimed it as mine.” When he’d first placed the gold chain with the emblem of the cobra around his neck, the medallion had settled against his chest and a strange warmth had i
nfused him. A feeling of rightness had bloomed, never once receding, not in all these years.

  “It is the perfect insignia for you, particularly when you snap and bite just like the cobra does when someone gets between you and those you hold dear to your heart. Thank you for sharing such a precious story with me. It means the world that you did. Are you still hungry?” she asked and at his nod, she placed a ham and cheese sandwich on his plate.

  Their footman stepped forward from where he stood several feet away and served the wine, then the four of them chatted, more stories and shared memories exchanged. He hadn’t enjoyed such a relaxing time in ages.

  With his belly full, he rested his head back on the blanket and closed his eyes, Adrestia, Giovani, and Olivia’s continued conversation swirling around him. These three people were like an extension of himself, in many ways a crucial and necessary extension. Adrestia was just like him, but the feminine more loving version. She’d go into battle for those she held dear to her heart, just as he would. Giovani was a rock, always standing solidly at his side, a friend he’d shared every single adventure with since they’d met as children. Olivia was...well, she was something far more than anyone had ever been to him. She’d taken up a place in his heart and continued to gobble up more room with each day that passed.

  Whenever he was away from her, he ached to see her again.

  Whenever he was close to her, he ached to get even closer.

  It seemed a vicious cycle he couldn’t break.

  “Are you sleeping?” She laid down next to him, her shoulder now brushing his shoulder.

  “No, just resting my eyes.” He snuck a look at her, surprised to see only the two of them on the blanket. Adrestia and Giovani now ambled along the shoreline, enjoying a short walk. A glance behind him showed Bruno no longer lingered at the edge of the woods. He’d disappeared somewhere, and Sawman sat with his back propped against a trunk as he whittled away at a piece of wood. Excellent, he had some freedom from Bruno. Freedom he intended on claiming this very second.