This was what a kinder life was about. Love. Friendship. Family. Not that he would stop making millions. It was in his nature to strive and succeed, be ruthless when he needed to be. But everything he did would be for Eloise and the children they hoped to have. Not for an ill-placed, unhealthy revenge.
When the priest said he could kiss the bride, he didn’t want to stop.
* * *
Eloise had followed the newer custom of changing into another less formal white gown for the reception, which was being held at Silver Trees, thanks to the generosity of Becca and Simon. It was easy for her to have two dresses—after all, she owned two branches of her atelier. Or she would soon when Eloise Evans Atelier, Boston, opened in the exclusive shopping area on Newbury Street.
The timing had been perfect. She’d taken Vinh into partnership with her for the Double Bay branch, while she would work between Sydney and Boston. She and Josh would live in his Seaport apartment while they looked for a house near the North End. She’d be near her twin too.
There was another reason she had chosen to wear a second dress. Her bridal gown was now carefully wrapped in acid-free tissue paper and boxed for Tori to take home with her to Boston. She sought her out, to tell her it was waiting for her in her room.
‘It’s a good luck wedding dress, I just know it,’ Eloise said. ‘We’re the same size. Take it home with you. I had to learn to trust and open my heart to love. Go after your dream man, the architect. What’s his name again?’
‘Clay Ramos. But Ellie, I’m not sure—’
‘Who knows what might happen? And the dress will be ready for you if it does.’
She hugged her twin, already so loved. She might not see her again until she got back to Boston when she and Josh returned from their honeymoon on a luxury tropical island in far north Queensland.
Josh was over near the table where their magnificent wedding cake—whipped up by Tori—was displayed. He’d been talking to his Melbourne friends and fellow billionaires, Courtney and Shawn. Now he was chatting with his mother, who had defied her husband to travel to Australia to attend her younger son’s wedding. His Aunt Lily was here somewhere too.
‘You know, I was just telling Mom that the only person—well, not a person—we love who’s missing from our wedding celebration is Daisy the dog.’
‘Funny you should say that,’ Eloise said. ‘My mother has darling Daisy in her room, with Becca’s permission, of course. I thought I’d surprise you by having her at the church but she’s still too nervous around a crowd.’
Her move to Boston had made it problematic to adopt Daisy. But her mother had fallen in love with the little dog and decided to adopt her instead, which was nearly as good.
‘So Daisy is the dog who introduced you?’ Josh’s mother asked. Eloise had liked her immediately and looked forward to having her at their home in Boston.
‘In a manner of speaking, yes. She will still be part of our lives when we spend time in Sydney. And we can say goodbye to her before we leave.’ Tori had already lined her up as a foster carer for a dog rescue organisation in Boston.
‘Sounds like the perfect wedding all round,’ said Josh. ‘Here, where it all started for us.’
‘It’s the start of our perfect life together as husband and wife,’ she said, lifting her face for his kiss.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781488073755
From Bridal Designer to Bride
Copyright © 2021 by Kandy Shepherd
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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He flicked over to the photograph he’d taken of her in the library.
“This is you,” he said, his voice cracking. “The you I saw. The you I kissed on the beach. The you I wanted to kiss among the bluebells this morning, when you were pretending to be me and bossing me about.” He paused. “The you I want to kiss now, even though I know it’s unfair of me because you have to go back to San Rocello and you have duties to fulfill. The you I want to kiss now, even though I’m not looking for a relationship—and even if I was, I know there isn’t a snowflake’s chance in hell of things working out between us.”
She knew he was right.
She could be sensible Princess Vittoria, agree with him there wasn’t a hope for them and walk away.
Or she could be herself. The woman who wanted him to kiss her. Who wanted to kiss him back. Who wanted more.
Just for tonight...
Dear Reader,
Have you ever wanted to take some time out, just for you? But how much harder would it be if you’re constantly in the public eye? I’ve always loved the film Roman Holiday, but life is so different now that the princess’s escape could never work. I thought about it...and that’s when I came up with the idea of Surprise Heir for the Princess. And who better to help her escape than someone who really understands the media—a photographer!
So Liam helps Vittoria be not-a-princess for a few days. He takes her to a little cottage by the sea (yes, of course, in my own favorite place in Norfolk) and helps her find who the woman behind the tiara really is. Neither of them plans to fall in love with the other...but one night of talking really truthfully under the stars leads to an unexpected complication.
Can they find their way between duty and ambition toward true love? You’ll have to read on to find out!
With love,
Kate Hardy
Surprise Heir for the Princess
Kate Hardy
Kate Hardy has been a bookworm since she was a toddler. When she isn’t writing, Kate enjoys reading, theater, live music, ballet and the gym. She lives with her husband, student children and their spaniel in Norwich, England. You can contact her via her website: katehardy.com.
Books by Kate Hardy
Harlequin Romance
A Crown by Christmas
Soldier Prince’s Secret Baby Gift
Summer at Villa Rosa
The Runaway Bride and the Billionaire
Christmas Bride for the Boss
Reunited at the Altar
A Diamond in the Snow
Finding Mr. Right in Florence
One Night to Remember
A Will, a Wish, a Wedding
Harlequin Medical Romance
Changing Shifts
Fling with Her Hot-Shot Consultant
A Nurse and a Pup to Heal Him
Mistletoe Proposal on the Children’s Ward
Forever Family for the Midwife
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
For Gerard, with all my love
Praise for
Kate Hardy
“Ms. Hardy has written a very sweet novel about forgiveness and breaking the molds we place ourselves in...a good heartstring novel that will have you embracing happiness in your heart.”
—Harlequin Junkie on Christmas Bride for the Boss
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
CHAPTER ONE
THE VIEW FROM the ferry was almost enough to persuade Liam to give up portraits for landscape photography. A milky turquoise sea reflecting the deep red ball of the setting sun, a sky that looked almost airbrushed from hazy blue at the horizon to deep peach at the top, and the sun itself starting to dip behind the silhouetted island of San Rocello. He’d never seen anything so gorgeous.
But he wasn’t here on holiday; he was here to take the official photographs of Princess Vittoria di Sarda, before her grandfather stepped down and she took over as the ruler of the little Mediterranean kingdom.
Although Liam’s discussions with the king’s private secretary had gone some way to reassuring him that he’d been chosen on the merit of his work, the commission still felt a bit like nepotism. The princess’s younger sister Isabella happened to be his own little sister Saoirse’s best friend, and he knew that Izzy had suggested him to her grandfather for the job.
He took a deep breath. This flutter of nerves was absolutely ridiculous. He’d photographed plenty of people for upmarket magazines and Sunday supplements, including A-list celebrities and high-ranking politicians. Some of his work hung in the National Portrait Gallery in London. And he’d honed his social skills during his apprenticeship, so he was comfortable mixing at any level of society.
But this was the first time he’d been commissioned to take a royal portrait.
And he had a fine line to walk. The private secretary had explained that the king wanted a formal portrait of the future queen. Izzy had scoffed. ‘Nonno will want you to take something stuffy, with Rina dolled up in a posh frock, dripping in jewels and wearing a sash.’
‘That’s pretty standard stuff for a princess,’ Liam had pointed out.
‘And it’s about a century out of date,’ Izzy had grumbled. ‘I hate the way the palace stifles her. The world needs to see the woman behind the tiara.’
The woman behind the tiara.
All the press photographs and the paparazzi snaps Liam had seen of Vittoria di Sarda showed a cool, collected and businesslike woman. Perfectly groomed, always with a faint smile. Not quite Mona Lisa, but heading that way. She certainly wasn’t a scatty ball of energy, like her little sister; looking at Izzy, seeing her laugh in his kitchen with his sister and munching toast, anyone would think that she was just another art student rather than a princess. Vittoria, on the other hand, looked every inch a royal.
The portrait her grandfather wanted would work perfectly well. Vittoria traditionally wore her dark hair in a classic and slightly old-fashioned style that reminded Liam of Grace Kelly; she had a gorgeous bone structure, and arresting violet eyes that reminded him of a young Elizabeth Taylor. She could definitely carry off the traditional pose with posh frock, diamonds and royal regalia.
But Izzy had also shown him some selfies from her phone, just to prove her own description. ‘See? She looks like sunshine when she smiles.’
Vittoria di Sarda looked much softer in those candid snaps. Sweeter. She glowed. She didn’t look like the woman who was about to start running a country; she looked approachable and warm.
He shook himself.
He shouldn’t be thinking along those lines. Apart from the fact that he’d never get involved with a client, he’d learned the hard way that careers and relationships didn’t mix. He’d already done the raising a family bit, when he was eighteen and Saoirse was twelve; although he’d never regretted his decision to walk away from his place at university to get a job and look after his little sister, ensuring she wasn’t taken into care, his girlfriends had resented the time he’d spent with his sister. Some of them had taken the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ tack when they’d dumped him, but the more honest ones had said they didn’t want to settle down and raise a young teenager when they weren’t much older than that themselves. They’d wanted to go out to parties and have fun, not stay at home. The fact that Saoirse was his only living relative and really important to him had just passed them by.
Later on, when Saoirse was older and didn’t need him so much, his girlfriends had resented the time he spent on his career. Time spent travelling, or on a shoot, or in his darkroom, or working on a digital image. They couldn’t see the tiny differences on an image that he could, and got fed up hanging around waiting for him.
Liam was tired of being torn in two and made to feel guilty, so he’d kept all his relationships casual over the last few years. He wanted to focus on his career, on his goal: of becoming the best portrait photographer of his generation.
And maybe, just maybe, Vittoria di Sarda would be the one to help him get there.
* * *
Vittoria finished reading her dossier.
Liam MacCarthy, photographer and older brother of her little sister Izzy’s best friend. A man who’d turned down a place at university after their mother had been killed, who’d brought up his sister and who still lived with her in London. A nice guy, according to both Izzy and Pietro, Izzy’s bodyguard; it seemed he’d taken Izzy under his wing, too, over the last three years. A man whose actions showed he believed in family and duty, just like hers.
But this commission to take her official portrait wasn’t nepotism. He was good at his job. Seriously good. His work featured in upmarket magazines and Sunday supplements, and he already had work hanging in the National Portrait Gallery in London. He’d take the kind of portrait her grandfather wanted, and do it well.
Even so, Vittoria wasn’t looking forward to the sitting. Over the last year, she’d felt more and more stifled at the palace. She was prepared to become queen—since her father’s untimely death in a yachting accident when she was eleven, she’d been pretty much in training to step up to the throne—but her mother and grandmother were pressuring her to make a dynastic marriage before her coronation.
Once, she’d dreamed of marrying for love. Rufus, the fellow student she’d fallen head over heels for during their MBA year, seemed to feel the same way about her; and he’d loved her for herself, not because she was Princess Vittoria di Sarda of San Rocello. She’d thought he was going to ask her to marry him. Until he’d actually met her family and realised that their life together would be lived on the equivalent of a floodlit stage; Rufus had backed away, saying that he loved her, but he really couldn’t handle the royal lifestyle.
It had taught Vittoria that love wasn’t compatible with duty. But she still couldn’t quite bring herself to agree to get engaged to José, the son of a Spanish duke that her mother and grandmother had lined up as an eligible suitor. They’d met a few times socially and had absolutely nothing in common. But time—and suitable men—were both running out. She had to make a decision. Sooner, rather than later, with her grandfather wanting to step down at the end of the year.
If o
nly she could escape for a few days to clear her head. Somewhere she could think things through without any pressure...
* * *
The next morning, Liam headed for the Palazzo Reale in the centre of the capital. The palace was a huge Renaissance-era building, built from pale cream stone; its tall windows were flanked with louvred shutters, painted the same cream as the stone. The imposing entrance had marble steps leading up to huge bronze doors.
Liam re-read the instructions in the email from the Private Secretary, Matteo Battaglia; he went over to the security checkpoint to introduce himself, then went through the security procedure before being escorted to the Private Secretary’s office by one of the guards.
‘Delighted to meet you, Mr MacCarthy.’ The Private Secretary shook his hand.
‘Buongiorno. Delighted to meet you, too, Signor Battaglia,’ Liam responded.
Signor Battiglia gave him an approving smile and took him through to the king’s office.
Liam remembered what Izzy had told him when he’d asked how he should address her family. It was the same as for the English royal family; he should call her grandfather ‘Your Majesty’ and Vittoria ‘Your Royal Highness’ the first time, and then ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’.
He waited politely for the king to speak.
‘Good morning, Mr MacCarthy.’ King Vittorio held out his hand for Liam to shake.
Harlequin Romance April 2021 Box Set Page 30
