Clara laughed in the distance.
Rossie read through the legal prenuptial, but then laughed as she read article three. Tears formed in her eyes though she exaggerated her answer, as she said, “I get an allowance? My business almost makes this money now.”
In perhaps ten years what she said would be completely true, as she was working to get to the upper echelons of high society weddings.
He straightened his shoulders. “You’ll have to give that business up, but I will raise this number.”
He took a black pen and scratched the number, writing where the 10,000 a month and changing it to 40,000. Now the monthly allowance was out of what she’d ever be able to do on her own.
However, she was a much better poker player than Clara. She raised one eyebrow and said, “And we’ll have to work out an inflation adjustment and a guarantee.”
“You’re very business-minded.” He wrote inflation adjusted in the margin.
The way he said that, though, might have been a compliment. Her skin tingled like she’d heard a truth, but she smiled and said, “You have no idea.”
She made more checks. Live in Avce. Take care of his estate. Throw three parties a year. This life sounded easier than waking up before dawn and preparing herself to see clients.
Rossie handed the papers back to Stephano and the hard muscles that he hid under his suit jacket made her body tremble though she simply said, “Then let’s formally amend this and be ready as soon as possible.”
“It seems fair.” Stephano stood, offering his hand to help her up as he said, “And you’ll agree?”
She rose without taking his hand though it was hard to keep from touching him. She ignored the fire in her belly and said, “Finalize the papers then. We can marry once we sign the contract.”
He kissed her forehead. Her lips begged for his attention, but he pulled away and said, “Give me an hour. In the meantime, please sign these so we can start on getting the marriage license certified.”
“Done.” She signed the application.
Stephano then motioned toward his friend and Clara to join them. Once the four of them were together, he said, “Let’s enjoy lunch while we wait for the lawyers.”
“Sounds perfect,” Rossie said.
Stephano linked his arm with hers. Fireworks exploded inside her as desire grew. It was silly and just a physical reaction. In time she’d know how to deal with that, but for now she looked forward to their wedding night.
Stephano walked next to Rosalind. Her hips swayed and her lips pressed together accenting her cheekbones to perfection. His body was hard and ready for her when she brushed against him, but he led her and their small group to a nearby cafe. He opened the door and held it for her, watching the curve of her body in a short white dress as she passed him.
The maitre’d escorted them to a private table near the window and he took the seat next to her. Her dark brown hair was up, but as he glanced at her, he wanted to unwrap that hair and run his fingers through the thick tresses.
As soon as the waiter left, he asked, “Rosalind, what kind of business are you in?”
She put her napkin on her lap as she patted his hand. “Rossie, please, and I run a makeup and hair beauty team for weddings.”
The woman beside him was beautiful and should be treated with respect. A nickname was childish, though very American, when she was perfection personified. He kept his thoughts to himself though as he asked, “Team?”
Rossie studied the menu and pointed to an herb chicken option. “I put together two or more people to assist the bride and her wedding party, so that they appear fabulous on their special day.”
Astorre and Clara talked across the table and were engrossed with their own conversation.
Rossie put her menu down. The waitress came over and he ordered for her, while Astorre ordered for Clara. However, rather than engage him and Rosalind, his friend went back to his conversation with Clara.
Stephano smoothed his tie and fixed his attention on Rosalind. Everything about her was flawless and eye-catching. His hands ached to hold her, but he adjusted his napkin on his lap and asked, “So, you put on your own makeup and then other people’s?”
She patted his arm, either unaware of his aroused interest or fanning the flames. Most women he knew were the latter type, but there was something in Rossie’s expression that made him believe her sincere. “Yes, though I own my own company and have about 20 people working for me.”
With those skills, she didn’t need to be his lady, though he respected working. “That’s a lot of people to manage.”
She laughed like she was innocent and not a fortune seeker as she said, “It’s a lot of weddings.”
“So why are you giving that up to marry Stephano?” Astorre asked from across the table.
So his friend was paying attention. For a moment he'd thought Astorre was interested in the skinny girl next to him but Clara wasn’t his type.
Rosalind’s cheeks turned red and she folded her hands on her lap as she asked, “Sounds insane?”
Astorre leaned across the table. “No, it sounds like you want his money and to work less.”
Rosalind’s face fell as she stared at her fingers.
Stephano wrapped his arm around her slumped shoulders. “Astorre, that’s rude. I’m happy to marry Rosalind today.”
The waitress brought the food plates and served everyone. Once she left, Clara asked quietly, “So, who are you marrying?”
Astorre’s eyes widened and he picked up his spoon for his creme soup. “Let’s not go there.”
Rosalind glanced at her friend and didn’t blink as she said, “Clara is single. It’s why I brought her on this trip with me.”
Clara’s entire face, neck and arms all turned bright red. She picked up her own fork to eat her chicken. “She means I didn’t have anyone to stop me from going anywhere I wanted, that’s all.”
She began eating her food. Astorre then gave the other woman a more benign smile as he said, “I see.”
No one else said anything and they ate in silence. Stephano’s arm had goosebumps from being next to Rosalind. But his mind turned over and over again on why exactly someone like Rosalind had agreed to marry him.
There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on but he didn’t have time to figure it out, either.
When they finished their food, his team of lawyers came into the restaurant. He put his napkin on his plate and invited them over as he said, “Here are the lawyers.”
The two lawyers joined them. Clara also put her napkin down and leaned across the table and took her friend’s hand. “Rossie, this is your last chance to change your mind.”
“Clara, be happy for me,” Rosalind said.
His skin prickled. Successful people he knew didn’t throw everything away on a whim. Perhaps it was his offer of money. Perhaps she needed some. But he needed to ask. He straightened his shoulders and glanced around, noticing the restaurant had empty tables.
Clara took her hand back but said, “I’ll be happy for you when I see you’re actually happy.”
Stephano curved his palm over Rosalind’s shoulder and another bolt of awareness washed over him. “I will do my best.” Now or never. He smiled and then patted her like they were old friends as he asked, “Rosalind, can we speak privately?”
She put her napkin on the table and stood. “Sure. We’re about to get married. Can I see the final contract?”
At least her mind was sharp. Perhaps she was predatory? He could live with that goal, but he needed to ask because he wanted her physically. He gave everyone a Sunday-school-manners smile as he said, “Absolutely. Can everyone give us a few minutes?”
He took the papers and pen, handed the contract to her, and led her to a table where everyone wasn’t listening to everything they said. When they were both seated, she started reading the contract and had her hand out for a pen. He gave it to her. “Rosalind-”
“Rossie,” she corrected him, but
then smiled and said, “but I do like how you say my formal name. It sounds nicer with your accent.”
He’d discuss his opinions on names later. Right now he reached across the table and patted her arm. “Why did you agree to marry me?”
“Why did you ask?” She sat straighter, tension emanating from her.
He didn’t want to upset his angel. He massaged the back of her hand. “I have less than two weeks to get married or I lose everything. Plus, when we met last night, I thought I was being set up for a joke.”
She initialed the contract on one of the small lines but then met his gaze and stared at him like she had clouds in her gaze. “Who would do that?”
“Matteo and Astorre.” He remembered the time he’d hired Matteo’s about-to-be wife as a dancer for one of his parties.
She blinked but continued to sign. Once she finished, she held the contract but asked, “You’re friends with them still?”
Perhaps in her world no one joked with each other. Either way, he’d have years to discover her sense of humor. “Yes, but why are you marrying me?”
She took a deep breath like she needed a minute to formulate an answer. He didn’t move. Finally she said, “I’ve never been good enough for anyone, in what I do. If I marry you then I’ll be judged differently.”
Rosalind was one of the most beautiful women on the planet. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that other than the obvious. “Who cares what others think?”
“I do.” She handed him the papers. “Here are the contracts.”
He had no choice but to accept. If he dug deeper, he’d lose his chance and he wasn’t ready for that to happen. He needed to marry and fast. So he stood and offered his hand. “Let’s go see the lawyers and our friends. It seems Matteo has arrived.”
The lawyers went through the contracts and once they were satisfied, they left with the promise to get them both copies by the end of the day. As the door closed, Rosalind asked, “Are we going to the courthouse now?”
He paused. The moment she’d arrived earlier, he’d set his personal secretary on booking the grassy area outside of this restaurant. The wedding arch was already up, as he’d directed, so he pointed to it and said, “I thought you wanted the Eiffel Tower.”
Her eyes widened as she took his arm. “Absolutely.”
They walked out the restaurant door and Matteo stopped, out of breath from running down the boulevard. “Glad I could make it for your wedding. Patrice had other plans, but I wanted to give you my invitation in person for my own wedding next week.”
Matteo handed a wedding invitation in a cream envelope to Stephano, and another to Astorre. So his friend intended to marry his girlfriend, not that he was in any position to judge. He directed Matteo to walk with them and then met the gaze of Rosalind. At least he’d have a beautiful wife. “We’ll return next week for your wedding in Paris.”
Rosalind tugged on her ear and turned around as they crossed the street and spoke to her friend that walked beside Astorre. “Clara, I hope it’s okay that I go with Stephano for our honeymoon in Avce, and see you next week before you go home? I’ve already paid for the hotel room so you don’t have to worry about anything.”
Matteo glanced at them and then also nodded and asked, “Would you care to join us to visit a French winery in the South of France tomorrow?”
Stephano’s ears buzzed as he stepped onto the sidewalk toward his wedding ceremony. “Matteo, you’re going to see Chelsea?”
Matteo shrugged like he didn’t see anything wrong with that. “She’s always been my friend and I want to speak to her before my own wedding.”
“Sounds lovely. Thank you,” Clara said.
Matteo glanced at Astorre, who looked stricken, but then said, “It would be my pleasure.”
Stephano’s body became tense. Chelsea. True, she’d only ever been his friend. He’d never kissed her, but for her to suddenly believe in love and happily-ever-after, gutted his own plans.
And what if Rosalind decided she wanted "love and romance." Today, she’d become his bride and she signed over all rights if she later chose a divorce, but Avce law was clear that divorce needed to be approved by the king and queen and was rarely asked for out of fear of losing titles and fortunes.
Rosalind had staved off disaster and he’d figure out what happened next, if she turned into another Chelsea.
Stephano directed Rosalind toward the minister near the wedding arch and the small string quartet started playing music. She tugged his arm to slow down and asked, “So after this we’re heading to Avce?”
He nodded. “On my private jet.”
For one second neither moved and she held his arm tightly. Then she let it go and smiled at him. “This is all beautiful, Stephano.”
And so it began. He was about to marry a total stranger. He swallowed and said, “I expect perfection in my life.”
She accepted a rose bouquet from one of the workers. “And I ensure things like this,” she gestured to the staff behind the scenes, “happen for people like you.”
He fixed his tie and stared ahead. The bright afternoon sun shone down on them and today was picture perfect. He ignored the knot in his gut as he said, “Those skills mean you meet my basic requirements.”
The minister took his position and she lifted her chin.
“I’m ready.” She walked a few feet from the aisle, clearly intending to walk toward him.
He took his spot at the front and their friends stayed on both sides.
The ceremony was a blur though he mumbled yes. As his lips claimed hers, his entire body hardened. She tasted sweeter than any dessert in his life, and he’d tasted plenty of food and women. Rosalind blew everyone out of the water.
If she wanted love and romance, he’d show her that sex was more than enough for both of them.
Rossie stood beneath the wedding arch in view of the Eiffel Tower, and her lips still trembled from Stephano's kiss.
No one had ever made her blood hum like this. Ever. But he let her go and turned away from her.
For a second, the cold air of his departure slapped her face with a light wind, but she swallowed and it was gone.
She opened her arms to her friend for a hug. “Clara, I’m sorry I’m ditching you in Paris. I didn’t plan to do this. Be careful by yourself.”
Clara patted Rossie’s back. “Rossie, if you need me, you know where to find me. I’ll figure out how to get to Avce from here, even if I have to walk.”
A small laugh escaped her lips. This was too much. Rossie let go as she said, “I’ll be fine. Thank you for being my friend.”
Clara lifted her hand to her ear. “And call your mother.”
Stephano held his hand open for her and pointed her toward a waiting limo. She nodded at him and then told Clara, “Once we’re in Avce.”
Clara waved at her and gave her that ‘I can’t believe what I’m seeing’ smile but ‘I won’t say anything’ that Clara often did. Rossie knew the flicker of her friend’s gaze behind that gaze.
“See you in a week.” Rossie skipped and took Stephano’s hand. “I’m all yours.”
His face seemed tight as he said, “Yes, let’s get moving.”
Oh goodness. Hopefully he wasn’t doubting their marriage already. She walked more sedately next to him. As they reached the sidewalk she asked, “Did you say goodbye to your friends?”
He shook his head but waited near the limo door expecting her to get in first as he said, “They know we’ll be back.”
Her heart beat wildly as he joined her and the chauffeur closed the door behind him. As he adjusted to be comfortable in his seat, she checked that the hem of her dress was straight. “Oh, okay. I’m slightly nervous.”
He stared at her in confusion. “About flying?”
“No.” She pressed her lips together and decided it was best to just be honest. She ran her hand over her pendant. “About being alone with you.”
His gaze narrowed and his hand pressed against hers. “Why?
We’re married now. Once the paperwork is at the royal palace, my title and property are secured, thanks to you.”
True. He needed to be married and probably would have married anyone. She ignored the voice in the back of her head that would’ve said something and instead looked out the limo window over his shoulder. “I’ve never flown on a private plane.”
He massaged her arm slightly until she looked at him. Once she did he raised his eyebrow. “I thought you were a successful business woman?”
They drove to the airport and onto a tarmac which meant this wasn’t the major airport she’d come from Miami on. She tensed, aware of security as the driver spoke to the guards. With the elite, she usually had to show her driver's license as a worker bee to security, not sit in the back and expect to be taken care of. The change of status flashed before her eyes as she said, “Doesn’t mean I fly on my own plane.”
She turned toward Stephano and he kissed her forehead. Her husband. Oh wow. She’d actually married him. His brown eyes were the color of honey and his face showed his strength. She glanced down and decided to not think about the muscles underneath that black suit. As they drove past security and toward a plane, she shifted away to cool her thoughts.
He inched closer and whispered, “I see. Well, don’t be nervous. I’ll only bite where you want me to.”
Her entire body grew warm goosebumps at the idea of being with Stephano.
He laughed and sat back which helped her breathe.
She joined his laughter though she said, “Yeah, now I’m more nervous.”
The limo stopped near the plane and the chauffeur opened her door. She scooted out and Stephano followed.
Neither said anything and she ignored the zip in her veins. He was so close and stupidly she’d been in such a rush, she hadn’t asked him anything about himself.
For all she knew, he was a serial killer--her mind immediately shook that thought off as unlikely. As they walked up the steps to the plane, he asked, “What will help relax you?”
The hair on her body was on edge wanting his touch. He was close and warmed her in a way no one else ever had. She ignored the spike in her body temperature and instead took a seat as she said, “If I knew more about you, I guess.”
Forbidden Marquis Page 4
