Page 37 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

He threw back the sheets.

He needed coffee and something to eat from their meagre pantry. Then he could put his thoughts back in order.

Who knew what time she’d finally slept? Not till the early hours at least, because she remembered a faint light creeping beneath the curtains.

Kept awake by the storm, which if anything had got worse.

But also kept awake by thoughts of the man she’d pushed away and fled from. Twice in one day.

She’d tossed and turned, she’d climbed out of bed and paced the room just to burn off some of the restless energy that coursed through her body.

She couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. Her lips burned with it and the promise of so much more from the man who was sleeping just on the other side of that wall.

Violetta grimaced. How could she have let that happen? How could she have allowed herself to...to...wantLeo?

She ducked back beneath the covers and screwed her eyes shut for good measure. It made no difference to the fact.

She wanted Leo. His hands on her. His mouth on hers. She wanted everything he was and more.

She had not expected to like him.

Prince Sebastien, with his lazy smile and easy charm, was the likeable von Frohburg. Not stern, aloof Leo. Yet last night she’d spied a different man behind the mask, she’d caught a glimpse of his vulnerabilities. She saw his aching loss, his mistrust of women and what the bitter experience of growing up with his father had instilled in him. Along with the biting need to reclaim the grand duchy that his forebears had bred into him.

But that wasn’t who he was, not at his heart. Beneath that dark facade, there was warmth and fun and kindness, if only he could allow himself to show it.

Violetta flung herself over in bed. All that should matter to her was San Nicolo and its people. Leo might have talked reasonably about her plans for radical change in her country but when it came down to it, he’d stand against it. Just as her uncle and father had. Powerful men always thought they knew better.

If she let him in then she’d be betraying all the people of San Nicolo who, like her, dreamed of a different future. Brighter, bolder, freer. Where you got to choose your own destiny. Getting tangled up with the Prince of Grimentz was a sure-fire way to lose all hope of that.

There was movement next door. The sound of the shower cranking on, followed by a muffled, but expressive curse as cold water hit warm skin.

Violetta couldn’t help but smile.

Then the smile faded.

On the other side of the wall, in the small en-suite bathroom, His Serene Highness would be naked. Those beautiful hands working soap across his torso. That strong body sluiced with water and suds.

She’d been chilled in the night and, not wanting to explore the costume attic with its groaning timbers and in the pitch dark and moaning wind, she’d returned to the kitchen and grabbed Leo’s wedding shirt from the back of a chair where he’d left it to dry.

Now she tugged the fabric closer to her nose and inhaled. It smelled of him, of his cologne. She imagined touching him, running her hands across that broad chest.

Her hands slid over her own body, along her arms, across her breasts, her belly contracted. Instinctively she clenched her thighs together. She drew the hem of the shirt higher, baring her hips, and let her fingers wander downwards over her belly, to between her thighs.

There was the rude clatter of the shower turning off, the rattle of curtain rings as it was swept back.

Violetta snatched her hand away and lay still until she heard footsteps along the landing and a heavy male tread on the stairs.

She let out a long slow breath. Time to get up herself and face him, and whatever the day would bring. But first she’d also take a bracing cold shower. It might be just what she needed to snap out of this nonsense.

Leo collected the cafetière and coffee from the pantry. Thankful the staff who visited felt fresh coffee was an essential. He was filling the pot from the tap when there was an ear-piercing scream from above.

Good God! Had someone found their way here and broken into the chateau despite the foul weather?

He pelted up the stairs, yelling for her.

‘Here! Oh, come quickly.’

With fists raised he burst through the door to her bathroom. Skidding to a halt when he discovered she was alone.

---