Page 31 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

‘I meant you seem at home in a kitchen.’

‘Only this one. Grand-Mère insisted that Seb and I did our share of the chores here.’

‘I used to love that. I felt like I was a regular person. Maybe like one of the servants. Able to leave all my parents’ expectations behind at the end of the day.’

‘We’re servants too though, aren’t we?’ he said. ‘Just not the kind who can easily choose alternative employment.’ Had she imagined that hint of regret? She thought he cared for nothing but power.

‘Would you have liked a different career?’

He shook his head. ‘My earliest memories are of my father, standing me on the castle battlements. Pointing out San Nicolo, saying that it had been stolen from us and that essentially my only reason for existing was to get it back. A different career was never an option.’ He poured two glasses of wine and set one in front of her. ‘Although perhaps that’s where my head for heights comes from,’ he said casually, as if there weren’t a dark reason for that.

Violetta thought of a little boy, too tiny to see the duchy over the hulking stonework without being lifted onto it. There’d been no protective hug of a father holding a beloved son, helping him see the wonder of the world below.

More a prince drilling his obsessions into the heir. She was beginning to understand why Leo had come charging after her when she ran from the wedding.

He took a slug of his wine.

‘Let’s eat. I hope you’re ready for the culinary adventure that is canned coq au vin?’

The table had been cleared, the dishes put away and Leo let the evening settle in over him. The violence of the storm outside forgotten, muted by the magic of this house and this night.

No one demanding his attention. Nowhere to be. Nothing to do but sit here with this woman and watch the candlelight play in her hair and glint through the emeralds of that absurdly out of place tiara.

The true magic of this house, of course, was that it made him ordinary. Just a man sharing dinner. Not thinking about tomorrow and all its implications but for the moment content to be with Violetta and enjoy her surprisingly refreshing company.

‘Do you know what your castle is missing?’ she asked.

‘I know you’re going to say a dog.’

‘Yes! A big lolloping hound. I remember you and Seb tearing about the place with a dog always at your heels.’

‘Yes, Grand-Mère always cared for rescue dogs.’

‘You must have looked forward to seeing them every time you came.’

He shook his head. ‘You know, I never came back after that summer you were here.’

‘Never?’ Her eyes widened. ‘Why?’

‘My mother left,’ he said.

‘And?’

He looked at her sharply. ‘Surely you know the story?’

‘Only the bare facts. I’d like to hear it from you.’

He almost reverted to classic Leo, sharing nothing, but those disarming liquid eyes were hard to resist.

‘My mother didn’t just leave, she abandoned me and my father.’ And the hurt of that still had the power to take his breath way.

‘So he became both parents to you?’

Leo snorted in derision. ‘No. He became even less of a parent to me than he was before. He blamed me for my mother’s departure. First I’d been too clingy, then not dutiful enough. It depended on the day and the mood he was in. It was always worse when news of my mother’s latest affair hit the headlines. When she imagined herself in love yet again. What a futile emotion. Who needs it? So fleeting and unreliable.’

Violetta regarded him sadly, but she was in no position to offer sympathy.

‘You can’t pretend you’ve had much of it in your life either,’ he scoffed.

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