The Prince's Cinderella Bride
Page 20
“This has nothing to do with pride, Mother. And Lani and I are finished.”
She didn’t argue further. But he saw in those legendary dark eyes that she thought he had it all wrong.
* * *
On the last weekend in May, his sister Alice married real estate golden boy turned international investor Noah Cordell in Carpinteria, California. Most of the family attended.
Max went and took the children and Gerta. The wedding was held in the big Spanish-style house at Noah’s estate. Alice came down the curving staircase, arms full of Casablanca lilies, wearing a daring white wedding gown that fit her like a second skin and dipped to the base of her spine in back. The spectacular dress had been designed by Noah’s talented younger sister, Lucy, the one who was engaged to Damien.
Max felt a jolt of aliveness when Alice stood with her groom and said her vows. They were happy, Alice and Noah. Happy and willing to take the biggest risk of all, to bind their lives together.
Most of his siblings had taken that risk. Only his two youngest sisters, Genevra and Aurora, remained single—and Damien, too. Dami and Lucy planned to wait a while to marry, until Lucy had gotten through at least a couple of years at fashion school. But then Max overheard Lucy laughing and saying she didn’t know how long she could wait to be Dami’s bride.
So there you go. Before you knew it, they would all be happily married. Except for him.
Because he was both prideful and cowardly, and completely unwilling to take a chance like that again. He was willing to trust neither himself nor the woman he loved, just as Lani had said.
Noah’s sprawling estate not only had one of the finest horse stables in America and extensive equestrian trails and fields, it also had artfully landscaped gardens rivaling the ones at home in Montedoro. To escape the crowd in the house for a while, Max left Nick and Connie in Gerta’s excellent care and wandered outside, where the weather was California perfect and trees shaded the curving garden paths. Lost in his thoughts, enclosed in the usual bubble of numbness, hardly noticing the beauty around him, he walked past the infinity pool and down one path and then another.
Until he rounded a curve and there she was: Lani. Sitting on a small stone bench beneath a willow tree, her back to him, her long black hair dappled in sunlight and leaf shadow.
Max stopped stock-still on the path as the world instantly flashed into vivid three-dimensional life. Everything glowed with color and light. He smelled dust and eucalyptus and the haunting sweetness of some unknown flower. He heard birdsong. Something rustled in a patch of greenery to his left. And from back the way he’d come, the sound of voices and laughter drifted to him.
And then she turned her head. He saw her face in profile.
It wasn’t Lani.
The vivid world subsided into dull reality once more.
The woman saw him, gave him a nod.
He returned her nod and walked on by.
It happened again that night. He caught a glimpse of black hair and the sweet curve of a woman’s shoulder. The world exploded into life.
Until he moved closer and saw his mistake. Only another stranger. The bubble of numbness descended as before.
He didn’t start wondering if he might be going insane until after he was back at home and it happened three more times: a woman in the marketplace buying oranges; another at a formal dinner in the palace’s state dining room; a third in the library.
Each time everything flashed bright. The world pulsed with vibrant intensity—and then flattened away to grayness once again.
He was an intelligent man. He got the message. Not only did his mother and his children think he was crazy to let Lani go, even his subconscious was out to teach him a lesson now.
Max was just stubborn enough that he might have soldiered on in his gray bubble, telling himself it didn’t matter if he’d lost his mind, he’d messed up on forever once and he couldn’t afford to risk it again.
But then he started dreaming of Sophia.
In the dream, she wore her favorite white tank bathing suit and she stood on a narrow ribbon of pebbled beach at the lake where she’d drowned. She shaded her eyes with the flat of her hand, her mouth twisted in exasperation, glaring at him. “For such a smart man, you have always been so stupid. Go. Have the love you’ve dreamed of at last. Live. Live until you die.” And then she dropped her hand and dived into the water.
He ran in after her, shouting her name. But no matter how he splashed about and called for her, there was no sign of her. She was gone.
Until the next night, when he would dream the dream again.
After the fourth night he had the dream, even he knew he could hold out no longer. Love and life were calling him.
And they were never going to shut up until he finally gave in and answered.
Chapter Fifteen
On the third Friday in June, just as night was falling, Lani finished the final book in her Montedoran trilogy. Satisfied with the ending at last, she saved her work. She was just closing her laptop when the intercom buzzer sounded from downstairs.
She got up and went to see who was there. “Yes?”
He said only her name. “Lani.”
Her hands went numb and her heart stopped dead— before recommencing beating so fast and hard she felt certain it would batter its way right out of her chest. “Max?”
The old intercom crackled. “May I please come up?”
Had someone died? If Connie or Nick... No. She’d seen them both just yesterday. They were fine. She wouldn’t accept any possibility but that they remained so.
“Lani. Please?”
Numb hands shaking, she buzzed him in. And then she undid the locks and opened the door and stood there on the landing, her heart going a mile a minute, listening to his swift footfalls growing louder as he came up the stairs.
She leaned over the railing and watched him run up the second flight to her floor, his chestnut hair as unruly as ever, a little too long, curling against the collar of his blue shirt. She knew how soft those curls would be, the way they wrapped so sweetly around her index finger.
He looked up and saw her. “Lani.” His eyes in the light from the stairwell were more blue than gray. And did he have to be so handsome it hurt her just to look at him?
She retreated, backing across the landing and through the open door of her apartment. He reached the landing and came for her, matching her backward steps with his forward ones, until they were both over the threshold.
“Lani.” He reached out, grabbed the door and pushed it shut behind him, closing them in together.
She was breathing too hard, her poor overworked heart going faster than ever. “I don’t... Is everyone all right?”
He just stood there and stared at her. He seemed to be breathing as hard as she was. “God. Lani.”
“Tell me. Nick and Connie...?”
“Fine,” he said. “Everyone’s fine.”
She put her hand to her chest in a vain attempt to calm all the pounding in there. “Then what’s happened?”
And he reached out and took her by the arms. His touch sent shivers dancing across her skin. She gasped. And he said, “Yes.” And then again, “Yes.” His voice wrapped around her, deep and rich and so well-remembered. It made her throat clutch just to hear it. “Alive,” he whispered. “With you I am alive.” He pulled her closer, bent nearer and breathed in deeply through his nose.
“Max.” She made herself say his name louder, more firmly. “Max, what in the world is going on?”
“Tell me I’m not too late.”
“Too late? It’s a little after nine, I think.”
“I don’t mean the time.” He gripped her arms tighter. “Is there anyone else?”
“Anyone...?” She gaped at him. “You mean another man?”
/> “Yes.” His straight brows drew together. He looked angry. Or maybe terrified. “Is there another man?”
“Uh, no.” She shook her head.
He mirrored the movement, his head going back and forth in time with hers. “No.” He glared. “You said no.”
“I did, yes. I said no. There is no one.”
“Lani.” Desperate. Pleading. “Lani...”
And then he pulled her even closer and he kissed her.
Oh, dear sweet Lord, his kiss.
How had she kept going without his kiss?
Her thoughts were a jumble. Her body was on fire. Her heart ricocheted against her ribs.
And she couldn’t stop herself. She slid her hungry arms up over his hard, warm chest and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him closer, sighing in surrender against his parted lips.
When he lifted his head, he said, “It’s no good without you. I keep seeing you everywhere. But then it’s not really you, just some stranger with black hair. And then I started dreaming of Sophia.”
“Sophia? You’re not serious.”
“Yes, I am. She kept saying, ‘Go. Have the love you’ve dreamed of. Live until you die.’”
She blinked up at him. “Sophia. In a dream...”
He nodded. “I know. Madness. I’ve been wondering if maybe I’ve gone round the bend. But I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m still reasonably sane. I’m just stubborn and full of pride. And scared. Yes, I am. Scared, most of all. But I do love you, Lani. I trust you completely.” He touched her hair, guided a dark curl behind her ear. It felt so good. Heaven on earth. His hands on her skin again, caressing her. At last.
And he wasn’t finished. “I love you so much. I love you and my life is one big, gray cave of numbness without you. I love you and my children love you. My mother thinks I’ve been an idiot. She told me to stop being stubborn, to put my pride aside and ask you to marry me.”
She hitched in a sharp breath. “Your mother said you should marry me?” She stared at him, stunned. “But the French ministers—”
“Don’t worry about them. They’ll come around, they always do.” He reached into the breast pocket of his blue shirt. “I want only you, Lani. I love only you. You’re the one I saw in my heart, always, even before I knew you. You’re the one I should have waited for. But I didn’t wait. And still, there was good in that, just as you said all those endless weeks ago. There was Nick and Connie. And I was true to my wife even if she wasn’t true to me. I kept my vows. And life went on.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you see that now.”
“I do. It’s what you said. What else is there but to let the bitterness go? I swear it to you. I’m done with letting my pride and my anger rule my life. I trust you, Lani. And I trust my own judgment in choosing you.”
“Oh, Max...”
“You are my hope for the future, Lani. You are everything bright and true and vivid and alive. I want to be with you. Truly with you. I want to be your husband, if you’ll only have me.” His legs gave out.
Or so she thought at first as he was slowly sinking to the floor. She put her hands over her mouth and let out a soft cry.
And then he was there on one knee right in front of her, reaching up to take her left hand. “Marry me, Lani.” He slipped a ring on her finger—an impossibly beautiful ring, with three giant sapphires surrounded in diamonds on a platinum band.
Her eyes blurred with tears. “Oh, Max...”
“I know it’s taken me way too long to come to this, to come to you,” he whispered, his voice gruff with emotion. “I know I’ve hurt you.”
She touched his upturned face. “You’ve only ever been honest, I know that. I never faulted you. I just wanted more.”
He pressed a kiss in the heart of her palm. “And now, if you’ll have me, if it’s not too late, I want to give you more. I want to give you everything, all I have. My life, my love. Forever.”
“Oh, my darling...”
“Be my bride, Lani. Marry me.”
“You mean this?” she demanded breathlessly. “You want this?”
He didn’t waver. “More than anything. Marry me, Lani.”
There was only one answer by then. She gave it. “Yes.”
He swept to his feet and wrapped her in his arms. “Say it again.”
She laughed. “Yes, Max. I will marry you. I will be your wife.”
And he grabbed her closer, claiming her lips in a kiss that promised all the joy she’d never thought to share with him. “Together,” he whispered.
She nodded. “You, me, the children...”
“Through the good times and all the rest,” he vowed. “From today onward. No matter what happens, we will get through it. As long as I have your hand in mine.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from FALLING FOR FORTUNE THOMPSON by Nancy Robards.
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Chapter One
“I’m sorry, sir, I’ve checked the directory three times. There’s nobody by that name listed.”
Strains of the new receptionist’s voice carried in through Christopher Fortune’s partially open door. He looked up from his in-office putting green.
What was her name again? He couldn’t remember. It was only the start of her second week. Jeez, but she was shrill. He’d have to talk to her about her tone. Not good for community relations. But first...
He realigned his stance as the golf pro had taught him, making sure that his toes were parallel to the pin at the end of the fourteen-foot portable green. He set the putter in the hollow part of his left hand and placed the right hand so that his right thumb rested on the left side of the shaft. He pulled back to take his shot—
“Sir, I don’t know what else to tell you.” Now her voice was teetering on exasperation. He couldn’t hear what the other person was saying, but she was giving him a headache. “We have a Christopher Fortune, but nobody by the name of Chris Jones works here. Could he be the one you’re looking for?”
The words made Christopher hit the ball a little too hard. It rolled off the end of the green and under the coffee table that was part of the furniture grouping at the end of the room.
Who was asking for Chris Jones?
* * *
Two months ago, Chris Jones had adopted his mother’s Fortune family name and moved to Red Rock from Horseback Hollow, Texas. He’d dropped the Jones portion of his name when he’d accepted the new job. Now, he was Christopher Fortune, vice president in charge of community relations for the Fortune Foundation.
Christopher set down his putter, walked over and fully opened his office door to see what the ruckus was about.
What the hell—
“Toby?” Christopher said flatly when he saw his brother and his new sister-in-law, Angie, standing there. “What are you doing here, man?”
The receptionist, a slight woman with close-cropped black hair, looked so young that she could’ve easily been mistaken for a sixteen-year-old. She turned and froze, all wide dark eyes and pale skin, when she saw Christopher.
“Oh! I’m sorry
, Mr. Fortune. I didn’t understand that they were looking for you. They asked for Chris Jones.”
Now she was blushing.
Christopher glanced at the name plate that was front and center on the reception desk.
“Don’t worry about it, Beverly. It’s fine.”
“Hey, little brother,” Toby said, extending a hand. “Good to see you.”
Christopher shook Toby’s hand. His brother immediately pulled him into an awkward hold that their sister, Stacey, was fond of calling a man hug: a greeting that started as a handshake and ended with the guys leaning in and stiffly slapping each other on the back a couple of times.
When they broke apart, Christopher stepped back, reclaiming his dignity just in time to see both elevator doors open and Kinsley Aaron, the Foundation’s outreach coordinator, step into the reception area.
Her long, straight blond hair hung loose around her shoulders, framing her pretty face. God, she was gorgeous, even if she was a little too uptight for his taste. He straightened his tie and raked his fingers through his hair, trying to right what Toby’s enthusiastic bear hug had mussed.
Kinsley had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. Those eyes were two of the reasons he always remembered her name. Although, the dowdy way she dressed wasn’t much of an enticement. He couldn’t figure out why such a beauty chose to dress like a schoolmarm. She always covered up as much of herself as possible. Didn’t she know her modesty only made him daydream about the gifts that were undoubtedly hidden beneath all that wrapping?
As Kinsley approached Beverly’s desk, she arched a brow at him. For a split second he could’ve sworn she’d read his mind. But he knew it was a ridiculous thought. She was probably just curious about Toby and Angie, since she tended to take her job so seriously. After all, this was an office where visitors generally came seeking help, something that typically fell into her community outreach division.
Before Kinsley could start asking questions, Christopher turned to his brother and sister-in-law. “Why don’t we go into my office? We can talk in there.”