She swayed at the low tenderness of his voice.
He took her hand in his and led her to the altar.
The cardinal smiled but then frowned in the direction of their joined hands. The joining of hands was supposed to come later in the ceremony.
But Edwin’s grasp only tightened around her trembling hand.
She needed to pull herself together.
She was not going to crash and burn under the pressure of all this expectation. It was messing with her head and distorting her feelings for Edwin, and she needed to get a grip. She had to stop struggling to keep her emotions in check around him, and as for her body—well, that was off in a la-la world of misguided sexual attraction. As was witnessed last night. She would have happily slept with him. Her legs threatened to buckle under her again. But this time it wasn’t terror but a lick of heat in her belly, remembering the dominance of his mouth, the sweep of his hand against her breast.
This was so wrong. She shouldn’t be having these thoughts standing in front of a cardinal, being watched by millions worldwide.
She needed to hold on to the cold, hard fact that this was nothing more than a theatrical performance. A performance that would allow her to champion the work of Young Adults Together.
She dropped her gaze, a stab of loneliness emptying her lungs. Michael would have understood her reasoning. He would have agreed to subvert an institution like marriage to further a good cause. Wouldn’t he?
When it came to the exchanging of vows, vows she had written, agonising over every word, not wanting to publicly commit to anything with which they would never follow through, she held her breath and willed herself to remain detached.
But Edwin’s intense golden gaze shredded any hopes of her remaining indifferent.
‘I promise you my friendship, loyalty, trust and understanding regardless of the obstacles we may face together.’ His voice danced along her spine. She tightened her fingers around his, needing an anchor as she made the same simple vows, praying they would survive all the obstacles that littered their future.
And then the cardinal invited them to kiss.
Edwin touched his fingers to her jawline. Her heart kicked hard at the tenderness of his touch. She was doing it again...confusing acting with reality. She straightened, trying to regain some backbone.
She wished he would stop gazing at her as though she was the love of his life and just kiss her. He didn’t need to over-egg this. The guests wouldn’t suspect this was anything but a love marriage.
But he stayed there, touching her face, reverently, gently.
People began to shuffle in their seats.
His father muttered something.
This was torture. Unfair. Wrecking her heart.
And, fool that she was, she wished they could stay in this moment for eternity. A moment when the past and future didn’t matter.
Something cracked inside of her.
I want closeness and intimacy with you. I want to be my true self. I want the freedom, just for a while, to have my heart soar and not be racked by doubts and guilt. I want to be wild and not give a damn.
Inch by inch he edged towards her.
His kiss was gentle. Caring.
Her heart fluttered in her chest.
She leant in for more. But he pulled away.
She wanted to scream. She wanted heat. More of him.
He was smiling when he pulled back.
But frowned as his gaze followed the big, fat tear that rolled down her cheek.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THEY STEPPED OUT onto the cathedral steps to thunderous applause. Kara blinked in the bright daylight, a gust of wind whipping her veil over her face. She scrambled to push it back, heard a chuckle, and then Edwin’s strong, capable hands were helping, pushing the fine lace away, his gaze holding hers fondly, his fingertips settling wisps of her hair that had broken free.
Brace yourself, Kara. You can’t cry again. Remember this is only all pretend. Don’t get caught up in it. Know what is real and what isn’t, for the sake of your sanity when this is all over and you have to walk away.
A chorus of ‘Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!’ rolled through the crowd. Edwin gave a teasing smile and the crowd reacted with good-natured laughter and then even more insistent calls for them to kiss.
Edwin turned to her, those golden eyes burning a path to her soul. An utterly convincing newlywed husband.
He’s way too good at this pretence. But then, he was raised to present the image of utterly charming prince to the world. This is all second nature to him. Remember none of this is real.
His mouth touched hers. Her eyes closed, a deep shiver running down her spine.
The crowd erupted, their cheers echoing the boom in her heart.
Dammit. His kisses were perfection.
He pulled away, took her hand in his and led her to their awaiting carriage.
When they pulled away, Edwin took her hand in his and whispered against her ear, ‘You look amazing and you’re doing a fantastic job. The hard bit is over—try to relax and enjoy the rest of the day.’
How was she supposed to relax with the eyes of the world on her...and when he made her head spin with those kisses? ‘You sound as if you’re carrying out a work appraisal.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I must make sure to give you a good bonus at the end of all this.’
Despite everything she felt herself blush, his flirting tone catching her by surprise.
All along their procession back to the palace they were greeted with shouts of goodwill and blessings for their marriage.
At the palace they and their families posed for formal photographs in the Oriental Room, Edwin’s steadying hand on the small of her back all the time.
And when they joined their guests for the pre-reception drinks he stayed at her side throughout, and she so wanted to allow herself to drift into a tantalising fantasy world where all of this was real.
A fantasy world that became even more entrancing when, during the intervals between the various wedding banquet courses, acts that Edwin had especially organised for her entertainment appeared on the ballroom stage.
A world-famous contemporary dancer perfectly enacted the words of one of Kara’s favourite songs. And before the main course was served a legendary 1970s singer took to the stage. Kara, deep in shock, stared open-mouthed as the backing music to her most famous disco track began to play. Within seconds the entire room were out of their seats, dancing.
After the singer had finally left the stage, having performed three encores, Edwin hugged her, his thumb gently wiping the tears of happiness Kara couldn’t hold back.
And then, before the dessert, Edwin stood to make his speech. He formally thanked the guests for their attendance and spoke for a few minutes on his plans for Monrosa, paying special attention to praising the impressive legacy he was inheriting from his father, who gave a brief satisfied nod in acknowledgement.
Then, folding the sheet of paper he was reading from, he waved it briefly in the air before saying, ‘I’ve decided to deviate from the rest of my speech.’ Turning, he addressed Kara directly. ‘Today, in the cathedral, while I was waiting for your arrival, I began to panic. I thought that you might have changed your mind and wouldn’t come.’
She shook her head—that had never been a consideration. Her arrival had been delayed thanks to a dog startling one of the horses along the route.
Edwin shrugged. ‘I guess sometimes we need to face the worst possible scenario to fully appreciate what it is we have. You’re my best friend. Kara, your loyalty, your intelligence, your humour all ground me. I know we’re going to have an incredible partnership.’ He paused and those golden eyes melted her heart. ‘Thank you for being my wife.’
Then, turning to their guests, he raised his glass and said, ‘Please join me in toasting my incredible wife, K
ara, Princess of Monrosa.’
She smiled and smiled and acknowledged with a nod all those who rose and toasted her, her cheeks hurting, confusion, disappointment she had no right to feel making her heart thud in her chest.
Friendship...partnership...all the right words to describe their relationship. Had anyone noticed the absence of any mention of love in all of that? Or was it just her?
* * *
Changed into a blue trouser suit and white plimsolls, Triona at her side, Kara did a double-take of the now deserted ballroom.
Walking out onto the dance floor where earlier they had danced together, that disturbing chemistry rising between them and causing his heart to thud wildly, Kara said to Edwin, ‘Please tell me you didn’t end the party early? My dad’s side of the family will never forgive you. They don’t think it’s a proper wedding if they don’t get to see sunrise.’
Not waiting to draw breath, she planted her hands on her hips, her jacket parting to reveal an ivory silk camisole tucked into her trousers, her gaze shooting between him and Triona. ‘What’s going on? Why did I need to change out of my wedding dress?’ She lifted her feet. ‘And why the plimsolls?’
Triona gave him a look that said this was all on him, muttering she needed some air, and slipped out to the terrace, closing the door behind her.
Kara’s suspicious gaze took in the open-necked dark blue shirt and lightweight navy trousers he had changed into.
He needed to make this marriage work. And the only way he knew how to do that was by trying to recapture what they had before he’d ever suggested marriage—a light, fun friendship with laughter and adventure and no complications or expectations.
He followed in Triona’s footsteps, coming to a stop by the terrace door. ‘I have a surprise for you.’
Her hands dropped from her hips. She edged up onto her toes to try to get a better glimpse out onto the terrace.
He opened the door and stepped outside, gesturing for her to follow.
She squinted out into the darkness and then eyed him with a frown.
But her curiosity obviously got the better of her because she walked towards him with an expression that said this surprise had better be good.
The moment she stepped outside a cheer went up from the awaiting guests who were lining both sides of the walkway down to the waterfront. And, as planned, the guests activated their light sticks in sequence, so that two rows of blue lights flowed all the way from the terrace down to the sea.
Kara screamed, gasped, and finally, thankfully, laughed.
She allowed him to guide her down the cobbled walkway, the guests swaying in time to the band’s rendition of Kara’s favourite song, ‘Sunset Love’.
Kara’s hand tightened around his as they made their way down the path of goodwill and celebration of their union. He smiled at Kara’s laughter, relieved that so far he had made the right call in planning this goodbye to their guests.
The walkway led them to the palace’s private marina and their awaiting families.
Kara dropped her hand from his and stared at Mistral, the royal yacht, and its crew, all lined up dockside in order to welcome them aboard. ‘Please tell me they’re not waiting for us.’
‘I did promise you a honeymoon.’
‘You said you were too busy.’
‘I changed my mind.’
She glanced at all those around them, gave a faint smile towards the crew, and, edging closer to him, whispered, ‘You know I get seasick.’
He laughed and gestured to the thirty-three metre boat with its five staterooms. ‘I defy even you to get sick aboard Mistral. A superyacht is a very different experience to being on a racing yacht. Trust me, you’ll be fine, and it’s only three days’ sailing on the Med.’
She blanched. ‘Three days!’ She stepped closer to the marina’s edge, frowning at the waves. ‘Those waves look big...why the hell couldn’t we just have gone to some nice hotel or beach? Not that we needed to go away in the first place.’
The sea was choppier than he would have liked, but there was no way he was going to worry her by admitting that. ‘You won’t feel much movement on board Mistral.’
For that he received a disbelieving scowl.
He stepped closer to her. ‘I know just how stressful the past few weeks have been for you. You deserve time away, a break.’ He held her gaze, his heart swelling with his affection for her, his throat catching. ‘It’s time we hung out together like we used to, away from the glare of the palace staff and the media.’ His throat tightened even more. ‘It’s time we recaptured our friendship.’
She let out a shaky breath. ‘You’re right...things have got so confusing.’ She swung away to berate Triona, Siza and her parents for keeping the honeymoon secret from her.
Luis was attempting to charm one of Kara’s cousins, who rightly was having none of it, so he went over to where his father and Ivo were standing together, not a word passing between them.
His joining them didn’t help matters and all three eyed each other warily.
‘Best of luck in...’ He grimaced, trying to remember where Ivo’s next major competitive regatta was to be held. He should have made more time to talk with him.
Ivo studied him and then his father, as though waiting to see if his father knew where his next regatta was.
His father simply shrugged.
‘Plovdiv,’ Ivo finally answered in a hacked-off tone before he walked away from them.
Edwin eyed his father, who held his gaze unapologetically, a faint tic working in his jaw the only sign of any emotion. He turned away. This whole mess was his fault. He had turned his and Kara’s lives upside down.
He went and waited for Kara to join him by the gangway.
She hugged her parents a brief goodbye, but with Triona and Siza she giggled and hung on to them for the longest time.
Why could he never be like that with people? What must it be like to be your true self? Not to feel apart and different?
As heir to the throne, he was always destined to be different. People looked at him differently. Behaved differently around him. People were more of everything around him—more nervous, more gushing, more reserved, more self-conscious. And he had known, for as long as he could remember, that he had to behave appropriately—an inner critic constantly telling him to be careful and proper. An inner critic that over the years had escalated to tight inner control in the aftermath of his mother’s death, where he was able to shut himself off from feeling too much for other people.
Kara turned away from her friends.
Rolled her shoulders as though bracing herself.
He rocked back on his heels. A realisation side-sweeping him. With him, Kara did hold herself back. It was as though an invisible wall existed between them. Even when they kissed there was a slight reservation, a hesitancy that was right and normal and proper. But it was also the most vulnerable place in the world.
* * *
Mistral eased away from the marina wall. Their guests cheered and waved, their blue lights dancing in the air like fireflies.
An explosion filled the air.
Kara jolted and grabbed hold of Edwin.
Gold and purple light filled the air.
Edwin chuckled.
She slapped him on the arm. ‘You could have warned me.’
He raised an amused eyebrow. ‘Come on, we’ll see the display better on the opposite side.’ He led her across the upper deck of the yacht, explosions of colours dancing overhead, the gold and purple of Monrosa giving way to the blue and red of the Union flag, and for a while she forgot just how cross she was with Edwin.
But that all changed once they left the natural protection of the harbour and hit the swell.
The boat pitched.
She grabbed the rail. Oh, God, it was only going to get worse once they were really out in open se
a.
‘I can’t believe you thought a sailing holiday would be my idea of fun.’ The boat pitched again as they rounded a headland, the swell growing higher. Exhausted from trying not to let the emotion of the day get to her, terrified she was going to spend the night throwing up, she added, ‘I thought you knew me better.’
Edwin considered her for a moment, clearly trying to understand where her anger had come from.
Well, good. He could have at least talked this through with her.
‘You’re scared. That’s understandable.’ His mouth tightened. ‘But will you please just trust me on this?’ With that he walked back across the deck and peered towards the building and street lights of the island, which were increasingly growing dimmer and dimmer.
Her anger deflated like a popped balloon. She felt herself redden. Now she just felt stupid.
Swallowing down her pride, she knew she had to do the right thing and show some gratitude. She went and stood next to him. ‘How long have you been planning all of this?’ she asked, pushing back the material of her suit jacket’s lapel that had blown forward in the breeze. The suit was beautifully handcrafted, the silk lining soft against her skin. ‘Who selected this suit? The shoes? Was it Princess Maria?’
His gaze trained out to sea, he answered, ‘I did—it’s that same shade as your eyes. The shoes were the most practical solution for our journey.’ His tone was distracted.
He chose the suit? Really? A shiver ran down her spine. Here she was worrying about being seasick when in truth she really should be worried about the prospect of spending time alone with her new husband. He seemed to want it to be about them reconnecting as friends, which she was all up for. But what if they did something stupid like kiss again? Going away together, especially after last night, was like dancing with the devil. And it didn’t help when he went and did something so cute and adorable and kind as select an outfit for her. One that he obviously had put thought and consideration into. Was he doing all of this just to keep her on-side? She winced at that thought, hating how cynical and wary she had become since Nick. God, she really did have trust issues. Staying well away from relationships really was the best thing for her.
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