by Cat Schield
A throat cleared somewhere behind them. “Excuse me, Your Highness.”
Gabriel stiffened and tore his mouth free. Chest heaving, he drew his thumb across her lower lip. “We will continue this later,” he promised, his voice a husky rasp against her sensitized nerve endings.
“I look forward to it.”
She received the briefest of smiles before he turned to face his private secretary. Released from the compelling grip of his gaze, Olivia had a hard time maintaining her composure. The kiss, although cut short, had been everything a woman craved. Passionate. Masterful. A touch wicked. She locked her knees and moderated her breathing while she listened to Gabriel’s conversation with his secretary.
Stewart cleared his throat again. “Sorry to interrupt, but the media found out about your daughters and Lord Darcy is meeting with your parents.”
Distantly, she became aware that Stewart was filling in Gabriel rapid-fire style about what had been on the television this morning.
“How did they get wind of it so fast?” Gabriel demanded.
Not even the ice in his voice could banish the lingering warmth Olivia felt from his kiss.
Stewart came up with the most obvious source. “The lawyer might have gone to them.”
“Unlikely. He had nothing to gain.”
“Someone in the palace, then.”
“Who knew last night?”
“The maids who were tasked with preparing the nursery,” Stewart said. “But they’ve worked for the palace for over a decade.”
Olivia considered the one who’d been straightening her room at two in the morning. The strangeness of it struck her again, but surely the palace staff was carefully screened and the woman had merely been doing as she said.
“The nanny.” Olivia knew with a sinking heart that this had to be the source of the leak. “The one I had escorted off the property.”
Stewart considered this. “The lawyer assured me she’d been kept in the dark about the twins’ parentage.”
“But that was before they’d been brought to the palace,” Gabriel said.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia murmured, aware she’d committed her first huge mistake as Gabriel’s fiancée. “I shouldn’t have taken it upon myself to remove her.”
“She was the wrong caretaker for the girls and you had their best interests at heart.” Gabriel offered her a reassuring nod. “Besides, it was going to be impossible to keep the twins hidden for long.”
Although she was accustomed to life in the public eye, she’d never been the focus of such frenzied interest on the part of the media, and the upcoming wedding had stirred them like a cane striking a wasp nest.
“If we present a united front,” Olivia said, feeling like his partner for the first time, “I’m sure everything will blow over.”
Gabriel took her hand and scorched a kiss across her knuckles. “Then that’s exactly what we’ll do.”
* * *
Hand in hand, Olivia and Gabriel entered the salon most often used by the family for its proximity to the back garden and the views of the park beyond. They found Christian and Ariana there. Gabriel caught sight of the television and heard the reporter. The amount of information the news channel had gleaned about the twins’ arrival late last night revealed that someone inside the house must have been feeding them information. Gabriel went cold as the reporter speculated on whether or not the powerful Sherdana royal family had paid Marissa to go away or if all along she’d hidden her daughters to keep them from being taken away from her.
“They may be painting us as the bad guys,” Christian commented, “but at least they’re not claiming we’re weak.”
Gabriel didn’t reply to his brother’s remark as Marissa’s face came on the screen. As the narrator gave a rundown of her career, Olivia moved as if compelled by some irresistible force, stepping closer to the television. Dismay rose in Gabriel as one after another, the photographs of his former lover on the covers of Vogue, Elle and Harper’s Bazaar flashed on the screen. Her legs looked impossibly long. Her face, incredibly beautiful.
Gabriel knew his daughters would be as exquisite. Would they follow in their mother’s footsteps and pursue careers in fashion? Photographers would stand in line to take their picture. They’d make an incredible pair. But was that any way for an Alessandro to make a living?
The question forced Gabriel to consider his daughters’ place in his household. They were illegitimate. With their mother’s death, that situation could never be rectified. An ache built in his chest for Bethany and Karina. At their age they would retain few memories of their mother. They’d never again know her love.
When the television began showing images of Gabriel and Marissa together, laughing, arms around each other, looking happy and very young, he realized Olivia had gone still. Picture after picture flashed on the screen, and many of them weren’t paparazzi shots. There were photos taken of them in private at friends’ homes, even a couple when they’d vacationed on a private island in the Caribbean.
Gabriel’s disquiet grew as Olivia’s attention remained glued to the news footage that recapped his turbulent years with Marissa. Naturally the reporters made their relationship sound more dramatic, the end more tragic than it actually had been.
While he watched, Olivia’s private secretary approached her and spoke softly in her ear. She nodded and came to stand before Gabriel.
“My father wishes to speak to me.”
“I’ll walk with you.”
“You should stay and discuss what is to be done now that the story is out.”
Her suggestion made sense, but he wasn’t sure it was good to let her leave without clearing the air. “I’d like a moment alone to speak with you.”
“I have a fitting for my wedding dress at ten. I should be back a little before noon.”
Once again their schedules were keeping them apart. “I have a lunch meeting with my education adviser.”
“Perhaps Stewart and Libby can find us a moment to connect later this afternoon.”
Gabriel wanted to proclaim they should make time, but had no idea what he was committed to for the rest of the afternoon.
“This shouldn’t wait until later. Let’s go to my office and discuss this situation in private.”
“Whatever you wish.”
Disliking the polite calm of her tone, he guided her from the room with a hand at the small of her back. Beneath his palm, her spine maintained a steady inflexibility that marked the change in her mood from their earlier interlude.
As pointless as it was to resent the timing of recent events, Gabriel couldn’t stop himself from wishing he and Olivia had been given a month or two to form a personal connection before their relationship had been tested to this extent. But that wasn’t the case and as he escorted her into his sanctuary and shut the door, he hoped they could weather this storm without sustaining permanent damage.
His office was on the first floor of the palace, not far from the formal reception room. Originally the space had been one of the numerous salons set aside for visiting guests. Five years ago, he’d appropriated it for his own use, tearing down the lavender wallpaper left over from the late 1970s and installing wood paneling and bookshelves that he’d filled with his favorite authors. The room was his sanctuary.
“You’re upset.”
“Just concerned about the twins.” Her quiet voice and dignified demeanor were at odds with the passionate woman who’d melted in his arms a little while ago. Gabriel felt something tighten in his chest. “I think it might be a good idea to have them in the wedding. I thought I would talk to Noelle Dubone. She’s creating my wedding dress and I’m sure she would be happy to design matching flower-girl dresses for Bethany and Karina to wear.”
Gabriel leaned back so he could stare into her eyes. “Are you sure?”
>
“Completely. The world knows they’re here. Hiding them would be a mistake.”
“I agree. I’ll speak with my parents about it.” He could tell that Olivia’s anxiety over the twins’ welfare had been sincere, but surmised more than that was bothering her. “The news coverage about my relationship with Marissa—”
At his slight pause she jumped in. “You looked very happy together.” She seemed to have more to say, but remained silent.
“We had our moments.” Gabriel drew a deep breath. “But much of the time we fought.”
“The paparazzi must not have caught any of those moments on film.”
She sounded neutral enough, but Gabriel sensed she wasn’t as tranquil as she appeared. “We fought in private.” And then made up in spectacular fashion.
His thoughts must have shown on his face because her eyebrows rose.
She moved toward the French doors and looked out. Gabriel stepped to her side. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and relive the kisses from earlier. The compulsion to be near her tested his composure.
Her gaze slid in his direction. “Passion can be addictive.”
How would she know that?
He knew of no serious romances in her life. Her private life was without even a whiff of scandal. No boyfriends. No lovers.
“Do you have firsthand knowledge of this fact?” Lord in heaven, he sounded suspicious. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from probing. “Have you...?” Realizing what he’d almost asked, he stopped speaking.
“Taken a lover?”
Damn the woman, she was laughing. Oh, not outwardly where he could see her mocking smile and take offense. But inwardly. Her eyes sparkled and her voice had developed a distinct lilt. Had his expression betrayed an unanticipated flare of unfounded jealousy? Or was she reacting to the revelation that for all his sources, he knew nothing about her?
Gabriel turned her to face him, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Have you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You’ll be my first.”
Desire exploded as she met his gaze. Wild with satisfaction that she would be completely his, Gabriel lost touch with his rational side. Surrendering to the need to kiss her senseless and show her just how addictive passion could be, he cupped her cheek in his palm, slid his other hand around her waist to hold her captive and brought his lips to hers.
He gave her just a taste of his passion, but even that was enough to weaken his restraint. Breathing heavily, he set his forehead against hers and searched her gaze.
“Your only.” He growled the words.
“Of course.”
Her matter-of-fact tone highlighted just how fast he’d let his control slip. His hands fell away, but his palms continued to burn with the heat of her skin. He rubbed them together, determined to banish the lingering sensation.
The need to spend some time alone with her had just grown more urgent. He was concerned that the media storm surrounding the arrival of the twins would make her father consider changing his mind about letting his daughter marry Gabriel. No wedding. No biotech plant on the outskirts of Caron, Sherdana’s capital. Gabriel needed to hedge his bets with Olivia.
As long as she still wanted to marry him, everything would proceed as planned. He just needed to reassure her that marrying him was a good idea. And he knew the best way to convince a woman had nothing at all to do with logic.
Some private time should do the trick, just the two of them. A chance to present her with a small token of his affection. Thus far her engagement ring was the only jewelry he’d given her. He should have had a gift ready to present on her arrival in Sherdana, but he’d been preoccupied. And if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t been thinking of Olivia as his future bride, but as a next step in Sherdana’s economic renaissance.
“I’ll arrange for us to have a private dinner in my suite.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Olivia said, her expression unreadable. Gabriel had chosen her partly because of her composure when dealing with reporters and her public persona. Now, he wasn’t happy at not being able to read her.
Shortly after she departed, Gabriel summoned Stewart and had him reschedule his morning appointments so Gabriel could meet with his jeweler. Half an hour later, he entered the reception room where Mr. Sordi waited with two cases of sparkling gems. Despite the wide selection, Gabriel wondered if he’d have trouble selecting the perfect piece for his bride-to-be. In the end, he chose the first bracelet that caught his eye, believing the fanciful design of flowers rendered in diamonds and pink sapphires would please her.
Business concluded, he let Stewart show the jeweler out while Gabriel slipped the bracelet into his office safe. He dashed off a quick note to Olivia, inviting her to dinner, and got one of the maids to deliver it. Then he went off to his lunch meeting with his education adviser, but his thoughts were preoccupied with the evening to come.
* * *
After a short conversation with her father to assure him that she’d already known about the twins and was perfectly happy that they’d come to live with their father, Olivia went to change her clothes, but ended up standing on the stone terrace outside her room, staring at the garden below. The euphoria of those passionate moments in Gabriel’s arms were misty memories.
Olivia’s heart sank to her toes. Caught up in the romance of kissing Gabriel in the beautiful garden, she’d been on the verge of doing things in public she’d never even done in private. While on a subconscious level she’d begun to think in terms of love. In reality she was embarking on an arranged marriage.
Being told Gabriel had loved the mother of his children and being confronted by the hard truth of it were very different animals. The pictures playing across the television screen had complicated her emotions. She’d been besieged by thorny questions.
Had he been thinking of Marissa as he kissed her? Had he been wishing that the woman he’d loved wasn’t dead? Or that her ancestry had permitted them to be married? Marissa had been every man’s fantasy. Vivacious, sexy, breathtakingly beautiful. In her eyes danced promises she might or might not keep. A man could spend a lifetime wondering which way she would go. How could Olivia hope to compete?
She couldn’t.
But she wasn’t marrying Gabriel because he loved her. She was marrying him because as a princess her voice advocating for children would reach further and she could fulfill her dream of becoming a mother. Her children would be the next generation of Alessandros. Still, it hurt to see the way Gabriel had stared at the screen as his former lover’s face was shown in photo after photo. Her heart had ached at the way his expression turn to stone while his eyes looked positively battered.
Suddenly Olivia wasn’t sure she could do this. Sucking in a sharp breath, she glanced down at her engagement ring. Sunlight fell across her hand, lighting up the large center diamond like the fireworks at a centennial celebration. She’d come to Sherdana to marry a prince, not a man, but after tasting passion and realizing she wanted more, she didn’t think she could settle for marrying a man with a past that still haunted him.
A man still in love with the mother of his illegitimate twin girls.
Maybe this marriage wasn’t meant to be.
But so much was riding on it. So many people were counting on the jobs her father’s company would bring to Sherdana. And the wedding was less than a month away. She had a fitting for her dress in less than an hour. Olivia stared at the slim gold watch on her arm, her mother’s watch.
A short time later, Olivia stepped out of the car that had driven her and Libby to the small dress shop in Sherdana’s historic city center. She’d pushed aside her heavy heart, averse to dwelling on something over which she had no control. She was her father’s daughter. Raised as a pragmatist, she knew it was impractical to indulge in pretty dreams of falling in l
ove with her prince and living happily ever after.
The shop door chimed as Olivia entered. Wide windows provided a great deal of light in the small but elegant reception room. The walls had been painted pale champagne to complement the marble floors. There was a gold damask-covered sofa flanked by matching chairs in the front room. The glass-topped coffee table held a portfolio of Noelle Dubone’s previous work. Some of her more famous clients were not featured in the book, but on the walls. Stars, models, heiresses, all wearing Noelle’s gorgeous gowns.
Almost before the door shut behind them, Noelle was on hand to greet her. The designer offered Olivia a warm smile and a firm handshake.
“Lady Darcy, how delightful to see you again.”
Noelle had a lilting Italian accent. Although Sherdana shared borders with both France and Italy, it had chosen Italian as its official national language. With her dark hair and walnut-colored eyes, Noelle’s lineage could have gone back to either country, but from earlier conversations Olivia knew the designer’s ancestry could be traced back to the 1500s. Noelle might not be one of Sherdana’s nobility, but the church kept excellent records.
“It’s good to see you, as well,” Olivia said, warming to the willowy designer all over again. Choosing to have a dress made by Noelle had been easy in so many ways. Although her London friends had counseled Olivia to go with a more famous designer and have an extravagant gown made, Olivia had decided she much preferred Noelle’s artistry. Plus Noelle was Sherdanian. It made political sense for Olivia to show her support of the country where she would soon be a princess, especially taking into consideration how hard-hit Sherdana’s economy had been in the past few years.
“I have your dress waiting in here.” Noelle showed Olivia into a dressing room.
For her more famous clients, Noelle often traveled for fittings. She would have brought the dress to the palace if Olivia had requested. But Olivia liked the shop’s cozy feel and wasn’t eager to entertain anyone’s opinion but her own.
