Page 34 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

‘There are other advantages we have that others don’t, which compensate,’ he said.

‘Like what? So far I’ve only experienced crushing expectation and little chance to do anything I actually want or believe in.’

‘That will change tomorrow when you take power.’

‘You truly believe I can do it?’

Her gaze fixed expectantly on him and he realised with some surprise that, yes, he thought she could.

‘You said before that everything changed for you when Francesca ran away,’ he said. ‘Did you miss her? Were you close?’

‘Not really. Even though we were sisters our worlds were very different. We were raised separately. She was going to marry you and be the next grand duchess. Whereas I was destined to be married off to a European aristocrat. My father said I couldn’t expect the state to keep me, and that I had no other usefulness to it apart from marrying well and providing the Della Torres with wealthy, well-connected in-laws.’

Leo’s anger rose at that. Another child who’d been told they had no value in themselves.

‘Did it hurt you? When she ran away?’ She peeked up at him, concern in her gaze. It warmed and comforted him.

‘Only my pride. I didn’t have any tender feelings for her, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t really blame her any more either. I genuinely wish her well and hope she’s happy with the choices she made.’

‘I hope so too. She may have been the heir but to my parents she was still just a girl. Do monarchs only love princes?’ she said bitterly.

‘Not in my experience.’ Who’d loved him because he was the prince and heir? Definitely neither of his parents.

‘Leo, I’m sorry for that,’ she said, placing her hand over his.

The intimacy took him by surprise and before he could control it, all the hurt and humiliation came flooding back. Tightening his throat. He withdrew his hand from beneath hers.

‘It’s in the past, it no longer matters.’

‘Being hurt by those who should love us always matters.’

Despite his best efforts that reverberated through him, the pain danced close to the surface again. He slammed his mind shut on it.

He didn’t want this. Allowing someone close was how you got...hurt.

And yet this woman, with her gentle eyes and gentler hands, was creeping into the heart he’d thought was shut away for ever.

He got to his feet. ‘Let’s change the music.’

‘Or change the subject, you mean. I get it. Talking about your feelings is painful.’

‘Not at all.’ With his back to her he shuffled through the collection of CDs. ‘It just doesn’t serve any purpose for me.’

Seb would have rolled his eyes at that one.

‘Here we go again.Leo the untouchable. The man without a heart. The only person you’re fooling is yourself. You’re flesh and blood like the rest of us.’

Leo slammed his mind shut on that too. He found one of Grand-Mère’s favourite bands and the strains of samba filled the air.

‘Dance with me?’ he said, stretching out his hand.

Violetta hadn’t missed that haunted expression in his eyes. Despite those broad, straight shoulders, the determined chin, she’d spied it—a sudden air of vulnerability. He was briefly that teenage boy again, who’d been betrayed by both parents and had his heart broken.

She looked at that outstretched hand but couldn’t trust herself to take it.

‘Your grandmother used to love listening to this.’ She stood and started moving by herself, swinging her hips.

‘What’s that you’re doing?’ he asked.

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