Kara’s gaze narrowed. And then she was stalking towards him. Chin tilted, a defiant gleam in her eye, she spoke loudly enough to include everyone in the room. ‘I’ve decided we should have a change of plan. Both your family and mine will dine together tonight.’
She had to be kidding. Did she really want to subject her mother and father to a dinner where his father and Luis would constantly quarrel and Ivo be so detached he may as well be back in Lucerne training for whatever regatta that was currently preoccupying him? Not to mention his own plans for the evening. ‘I’m not available.’
Her eyes narrowed even more at his words.
‘I’ve already organised for a private room in the yacht club for myself, Edwin and Ivo to have dinner and drinks,’ Luis protested.
Kara whirled around. ‘Well, ring and cancel. We’re having a family dinner.’ And with that she moved towards the door, saying she would go and find Ricardo on her way to check on her parents, who were both staying in the palace tonight in advance of tomorrow’s ceremony, to inform him of the change of plan. Before she left the room she glanced in his direction, her arched eyebrows and challenging stare silently reminding him of her earlier accusation that he was hurtling towards being an isolated grump. Dio! She really wasn’t going to give him an easy time over this. Well, tough. He knew what he was doing. He needed to keep his distance from her. It was for her own protection. He just couldn’t tell her that.
His Highness soon followed her, muttering that he had been planning on having a quiet night alone.
Only Princess Maria seemed pleased. Clapping her hands, she exclaimed, ‘I’m looking forward to having Kara in the family—it’s about time you men were whipped into shape!’
CHAPTER FIVE
A RAP ON her bedroom door had Kara quickly applying her lipstick, spraying on some perfume, standing from the dressing-table stool to make sure her wrap-around dress wasn’t revealing anything it shouldn’t be, and sitting back down.
Twisting her loose hair behind her shoulders and picking up her mascara bottle, she said, ‘Come in.’
Pushing the door open, Edwin propped a shoulder against the door frame and studied her reflection in the Art Deco dressing table’s mirror. Pretending to be applying some mascara, Kara waited for him to speak...while trying not to poke herself in the eye.
Would he stop staring at her? And what was with the dark mood?
Wearing a pale blue shirt over navy trousers, he angled his long body as though to deliberately blockade the entire door. ‘It’s considered bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other the night before the wedding.’
Picking up her hairbrush, she tried to ignore just how deflated she felt that once again he was preferring to spend time anywhere but in her company. ‘I think a special dispensation can be awarded to us, considering our circumstances and the fleeting amount of time we’ve spent together over the past month.’
Moving across the room, Edwin came to a stand behind her, his bulk filling the delicate dressing-table mirror. A wave of awareness spread up her spine. She shifted forward on her seat.
‘You’re still angry I went and got your mum?’
Kara lifted one shoulder up and then the other, their separate movements indicative of her mixed feelings on Susan’s arrival. At least now there wouldn’t be endless speculation on her absence, and it just felt right to have her here. But how she wished that she had come of her own volition...and that Edwin hadn’t persuaded her by pointing out the fact that this particular bride would need her mum even more than any other bride because of the fallout that was invariably on the cards for this unconventional marriage that would test even the best of relationships. A fallout that was steamrolling towards them at a faster, more intense rate than Kara had ever thought possible when she had agreed to the marriage, thanks to Edwin’s continuing disappearing acts and avoidance of all things personal. ‘Why don’t you want to have dinner with us tonight?’
‘As I said earlier, I have other plans.’
She ducked her head to catch his gaze, her heart in her mouth, the horror of his elusive answer stripping away any final pretence of being indifferent to his behaviour. ‘A woman?’ Nick had never been unfaithful but had subtly, and never favourably, compared her to his past girlfriends and work colleagues. It had seriously rattled her trust that men didn’t have wandering eyes.
He rocked back on his heels and came to stand to the side of the dressing table, his eyes ablaze. ‘Seriously?’
He was furious. For a moment she felt compelled to apologise but then anger rose in her—it was his evasiveness that was driving these questions and she sure as hell was not going to back down. ‘Well, what, then?’
His mouth tightened.
Kara smoothed her hand against her hair, certain it was lifting because of the static tension filling the room.
His eyes narrowed as they honed in on her hand. ‘Where’s your engagement ring?’
Kara pulled open one of the two walnut inlaid drawers on the top of the table and pulled out her ring. ‘I take it off when I’m showering.’
He watched her pull it on.
She grimaced at its weight.
‘Don’t you like it?’
She studied the sapphire. How could she feel nothing for something so beautiful?
Raising her gaze, she studied the man she was about to marry and answered, ‘You’re not the only one struggling at the idea of marrying, you know.’
With a sigh Edwin dropped to his haunches beside her. ‘There is no other woman. I might be struggling with the whole concept of marrying and how on earth to be an even half-decent husband, but there’s no other person in this world I’d rather marry. Please believe me on that.’ His serious expression gave way to a light smile, his eyes scanning her for a reaction like a lighthouse beam scanning the oceans.
Well, prove just how important I am...spend time with me. Remind me of all the reasons why I agreed to this in the first place.
She eyed him, her poorly constructed defences crumbling in the face of his now keen attention, at the way his shirt pulled tight across his chest, at the smile on his face inviting her to believe in him, to forgive him.
Am I being too needy? Has Nick’s stifling devotion warped my understanding as to what a relationship should look like? Am I expecting too much?
‘It’s not going to be easy dealing with my mum and dad—they’re both acting like stressed-out quarrelling Tasmanian devils.’
His mouth quivered.
She crossed her arms. ‘What?’
He raised his hands defensively. ‘Nothing.’
‘Well, they are—at the garden party they refused to be photographed together and matters didn’t improve when they found out their luggage had been brought to the same bedroom in the apartment they’re sharing.’
Standing with a sigh, he said, ‘I’m sorry—that should never have happened.’
‘It’s okay. The apartment has two other bedrooms. My dad moved into one.’
‘I’ll organise for another apartment to be allocated to him.’
‘I suggested that but they both agreed it would be useful to have someone to navigate the palace with. They’re both so anxious and intimidated by everything this weekend. I need your help with dealing with them—that’s why I suggested we all have dinner together.’
‘Maybe you should have left my family out of the mix—they’re all like a powder keg waiting to go off.’
She stood and reminded him, ‘It was you who had said you wanted for you all to be closer as a family.’
He rolled his eyes and shifted away towards the doorway. ‘Sometimes I don’t think things through enough.’
‘Like our marriage?’
He came to a stop in the centre of the room. ‘Not that...’ he paused his gaze sweeping down over her ‘...but I shouldn’t.’ Again he hesitated, his gaze
settling on her mouth. Reaching down, he plucked her silver and gold sandals from where she had earlier placed them on one of the two gilt stools sitting at the base of her bed. Well, her bed for now. Tomorrow her items would be moved to Edwin’s bedroom next door.
Passing the sandals to her, he said in a rush, ‘We’d better go down for dinner.’
Kara grabbed her sandals. Right, she’d had enough. Skirting around Edwin, she darted across the room and, banging the door shut, she leant against it with all of her weight. ‘Right, we’re sorting this out now once and for all. What is going on? Why are you shutting me out?’
Edwin moved across the room and, standing in front of her, placed his hand on the door handle and twisted it. ‘Let’s go—my father is going to be livid if I’m late again today.’
She pushed her weight even harder against the door. ‘Not until we discuss this.’
He snapped his hand off the door handle. ‘Fine. Give me some examples.’
‘Today you arrived late for the garden party—’
‘I was collecting your mother—’
‘Why leave it till the day before the wedding? And this afternoon at the party, not once did you come to my side. What groom does that? It was embarrassing. And tonight you have some mysterious plans you’re refusing to talk about.’
‘You know how much I have to deal with right now, with the succession and persuading that German bank to locate here, not to mention all of the changes to the government structures I want to hammer out in advance of my enthronement.’
‘There’s nothing in that list that would stop you actually talking to me.’
God, how was she going to get through to him?
The urge to touch him, to be close to him once again, had her reach out her index finger to give a single light tap to his temple. ‘I have no idea what’s going on in there,’ a tightness in her throat replacing the burn of anger in her belly, she tapped her finger against his chest, ‘or in your heart.’
For a moment his shoulders flexed tight as though he was about to leap away from her. But then they dropped and, bowing his head, he stood silently in front of her. His hair was damp. Citrus mingled with his usual clean woody scent. She pushed herself even tighter against the door, her shoulder blades digging into the wood, for fear of giving in to the temptation of running her hands through the damp silkiness of his hair or cupping her hand against the vulnerable strength of his neck or, most compelling of all, the pull to move towards him and take shelter against his body.
Bruised golden eyes met hers. ‘You deserve to have your mother here at your wedding. I wanted to make you happy. That’s the only reason why I went and brought her here. But I obviously made a mistake.’
She closed her eyes against the softness of his voice. ‘What would make me happy is if we could go back to how we were before all of this—where has our friendship disappeared to?’
She opened her eyes on his sigh.
He shifted to stand squarely in front of her.
Bare inches separating them, he studied her for long moments, a denseness entering the air between them. ‘I’m struggling...’
His eyes shifted down to her lips.
Pinpricks of temptation tingled across her skin.
Her hips snaked outwards towards him. She slammed them back against the door, her tailbone colliding with the wood, making her already unsteady legs tremble.
His head tilted, his eyes remaining fixed on her mouth as though it was a complex problem he was trying to understand.
With a distracted air, he repeated in another whisper, ‘I’m struggling,’ again he paused, and then his head lifted and his eyes blazed into hers.
Unable to breathe, unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze, hormones washing through her body like a lethal overdose, Kara felt her heart cry out for him to say something, something that would make everything okay, that would destroy the fear inside of her.
‘I’m struggling...’ he blinked and blinked again and, just like that, the passion, the hunger in his eyes was gone, traded for a wary defensiveness ‘... I’m struggling with the idea of being a husband.’
The feeling of being robbed of something she didn’t even understand had her duck away from him and move into the centre of the room.
‘Well, you’d better get used to it because this time tomorrow you’ll be my husband—if you still want to go through with it.’
‘Don’t you?’
How many times had she asked herself that question over the past few weeks, her heart and instinct warning her to tread carefully? But her pride, her need to stick to her word and promises, seeing already the benefit her new position was bringing to Young Adults Together, her desire to help Edwin despite his recent infuriating behaviour, all had her want to see this through. ‘On a number of conditions.’
She ignored Edwin’s grimace and, holding up her hand counted off with her fingers, ‘First condition is that we’re going to have breakfast together every morning from now on. Second, we are trekking in the mountains and watching a movie together at least once a week. Third, you promised me a nice honeymoon. I’ll accept your schedule is too crazy to allow for one right now, but at some point in this two years of marriage, I expect a holiday, and a spectacular one at that.’
Throwing his hands in the air, Edwin answered, ‘Fine.’ Opening the door, he added, ‘Now can we please go to dinner?’
Coming to a stop where he was standing holding the door open for her, she attempted to hide just how vulnerable she was feeling inside with even more bravado. ‘It’s not too late to pull out of the wedding, you know—I won’t take it personally.’
He smiled at that. His hand lightly touched her forearm. ‘Getting married is way more complex than I ever anticipated...’ he tilted his head, the tenderness in his eyes melting her heart ‘...but you’re still the only person in the world for me.’
* * *
Their main course finished, Edwin caught her eye from the opposite side of the dining table and, looking in the direction of his father and her mother, who were seated to her right, he raised an eyebrow. Kara smiled. Who would have predicted his father and her mother would bond over a shared passion for olives?
Her mother lived alone in a two-bedroom cortijo, surrounded by olive groves, in the hills north of Málaga City. Throughout the meal she had described in vivid detail her new life tending to her olive trees, talking about her hopes and fears for this season’s harvest. For the first time in years her mother was talking about the future.
The waiting staff reappeared, all five of them in a gracefully coordinated dance placing a tiny but exquisitely formed trio of chocolate desserts before each diner.
As they backed out of the room, her dad stood up.
Kara held her breath. Her poor father’s hands were trembling so badly the red wine in his glass was sloshing about.
He directed his attention towards Edwin’s father. ‘I would like to thank you for your welcome and hospitality, Your Highness.’
He raised his glass even higher, and the rest of the people at the table reached for their glasses to join in with the toast, but her dad wasn’t finished.
Clearing his throat loudly, he added, ‘I ask that you and your family take good care of my...’ his voice cracked and it took him a few seconds to add, ‘my little girl.’
Little girl. God, it was corny and sentimental but she could not help the feeling of delight and belonging that filled her heart at her dad’s description. For so many years she had believed he had forgotten that—that she was his daughter, that she was the same person he’d given piggy-back rides to around their garden, jumping over sweeping brushes, pretending they were taking part in the Cheltenham Gold Cup.
She waited for her father to look in her direction, but instead his focus remained on Edwin’s father. He was waiting for a response. He had thrown down a gaunt
let. Her dad, a small-time builder, was challenging the sovereign of a small but powerful country. Kara wanted to burst with pride.
His Highness’s frown deepened to a bottomless ravine transecting his forehead. Kara swallowed. He had done nothing in the weeks since their engagement to indicate he was shedding any of his misgivings as to Edwin’s choice of bride.
Sitting back in his chair, he studied her father, then her mother and then finally her, taking his time, a monarch accustomed to people waiting for his considered judgement. Her palms started to sweat.
Edwin said, ‘You have our word—’
With an annoyed shake of his head, His Highness interrupted Edwin, his attention now fully on his eldest son. ‘My marriage was arranged.’ He stopped and chuckled. Kara gave a nervous smile, uncertain what direction this conversation was going in. ‘At first my wife and I argued. She actually said I was too arrogant and had to accept that the marriage was one of equals. Of course, she was right, and after a while we became friends. And with time we grew to love one another.’ His gaze shifting towards her, he added, ‘From the most inauspicious starts, miracles can happen.’
What did he mean by that?
Edwin’s father did not wait for her to work that question out. Instead he stood and raised his glass in salute to her father, who was still standing and waiting for a response to his question. ‘I will give you my word that we will take care of your daughter as long as she’s a member of our family.’
Her father frowned. Kara reddened.
Shooting out of his seat, Edwin raised his own glass, his expression pinched. ‘Please be assured, Mr Duffy, that we will take care of Kara always.’
Her father’s gaze moved from Edwin to his father and back again before he said quietly, ‘Thank you, Edwin,’ and then took his seat.
Edwin remained standing. He rolled his shoulders and raised his wine glass again. ‘To my mother and Michael. We miss you dearly but you will live on for ever in our memories and actions.’
Best Friend to Princess Bride Page 9
