Page 27 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

‘All right, I’ll tell you. I won’t marry you because I plan to be Grand Duchess in my own right. As soon as I get home, I’ll claim the throne as the rightful heir. Then I’m going to give San Nicolo its freedom and make it a democracy.’

As if all the dark fates in the world had aligned for a second time that day the room was filled by the dazzling white light of a lightning flash.

Leo’s face was stark with shock in the split second of eerie light.

Then another mighty, foundation-rattling thunderclap crashed directly overhead.

The power went out and Violetta shrieked.

In the gloom she saw Leo’s shadowy figure head to the phone. He picked it up then slammed it back into the cradle with a curse.

‘The line’s gone dead.’

He grabbed a torch from the stash on the table. ‘I’ll check the fuse box.’

When he came back the kitchen light remained off.

‘The power is out too.’

‘What do we do now?’ She looked about her helplessly.

‘Same as before. We wait it out. We have candles and a gas cooker. We’ll manage.’

Violetta wrapped her arms about her, suddenly feeling chilled. Not just trapped with this man, but now in the dark too.

‘Okay.’ She pulled herself together. ‘We have to make the best of it. I’ll find something to eat.’

She rummaged around in the pantry, found two tins.

She held them aloft. ‘Coq au vin or beef bourguignon?’

‘Cannedcoq au vin?’ Leo said, eyeing both with distaste.

‘Or we could push the boat out and have baked lentils and sausage.’

Leo grimaced. ‘What a shame you hadn’t fled in a catering van. We might have had something better to eat.’

‘You can talk.’ Violetta grabbed a can opener and a saucepan. ‘You drove our only other transport straight into a ditch.’

‘I did not drive into a ditch. It was an unavoidable pothole, which I would have never encountered had I not been out searching for you.’

‘And yet I managed to avoid it.’ She opened the tin and tipped the contents into the pan.

‘You were not driving a million euros’ worth of Ferrari.’

‘No, the florist’s van is much more practical and useful.’ She sat the pan on the stove.

‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘Just what one needs when stranded miles from civilisation with no power and little food, floral arrangements.’

He came closer and bent to take a tentative sniff at the contents of the saucepan. When he looked up at her his expression was pained.

‘That’s the beef bourguignon,’ Violetta explained.

‘It smells utterly delightful. One can only imagine the taste.’

‘At least we have something to eat. What about your men at the gatehouse? Aren’t they just as stranded as we are?’

Leo stared out at the pelting rain and the trees writhing in the wind.

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