Page 39 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

‘Yes, it is,’ Leo said.

He and Antonio took a step towards the doorway and her. But though she kept her gaze fixed on the glass in his hand she didn’t flinch as he drew nearer.

She followed him down the stairs, to the rear of the servants’ wing, and the scullery door, which opened onto an enclosed courtyard, protected from the full force of the weather. Leo dropped to his haunches, carefully upended the glass beneath a rosemary bush and Antonio scuttled to safety.

As he stood, re-entered the house and closed the door back on the weather, Violetta held his gaze.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘No one has ever tried to help me get over my fear of spiders before.’

‘Antonio and Hildegard will be pleased they’ve helped you.’

‘I know it’s irrational. Being scared of such a teeny creature.’ Her eyes clouded. ‘At least that’s what my father said when he locked me in a dark closet. Knowing there were spiders lurking in every corner. He said I must conquer my fears and I’d stay in there until I’d learnt to control myself. By that he meant stop crying. He left me in there for hours. I was four.’ She hugged herself. Small and helpless again. ‘Who does that to a child?’

‘A monster, that’s who!’ Leo said, raging inside for her.

She gazed up at him. Her eyes filled with remembered hurt and he reached for her, wanting to clasp her to him, and eradicate all that pain, but she stepped back.

‘Um...thanks.’ She chewed her lip, looking torn. ‘I should probably go and get that shower now.’

He watched as she hurried away. Toned, tanned legs on display beneath the shirt she wore.

His wedding shirt, no less.

He ran a hand through his hair. She’d rejected his marriage suit and after this storm abated they’d be going their separate ways. She’d no longer be his concern. She’d even just made it clear that while they were trapped here she’d prefer he stay at arm’s length.

So why had he felt compelled to comfort her just now?

Because he knew intimately the pain he saw in her fathomless brown eyes and the failure of a father who’d helped put it there. And because he couldn’t ignore the feeling that they shared a connection beyond being royal.

Somehow they were kindred spirits.

Thirty minutes later, in the small, first-floor room that had once been hisgrand-père’s study, Leo was perched on the edge of the desk. Long legs stretched out, ankles crossed, staring out at the view, still shrouded by rain clouds.

Out there his country was hunkered down beneath the pummelling of the storm. He could only hope that the damage was as limited as it appeared to be here. What else might await him when he returned to his castle? Would his people be angry that the duchy hadn’t been restored to them or was it really just the objective of the von Frohburgs?

Was he really thinking of letting San Nicolo go? The dream that had obsessed his family for generations and his father most of all. The dream he had drummed endlessly into his only son.

‘The duchy is your destiny, boy. The only reason you were put on this earth. Don’t fail me. Don’t fail Grimentz. Make amends for the shame your mother brought to this family.’

How often had Leo heard those words? Or something like them.

The door behind him creaked open.

‘There you are.’

He glanced over his shoulder as Violetta appeared.

The temptation of her supple, toned limbs back on show in her little cheerleader dress. He couldn’t be sorry. He was in sore need of cheering up as even beyond the grave his father still had the power to taunt him.

She padded towards him.

Barefoot, her chestnut hair hanging in damp tendrils down her back, she was nothing like the lofty grand duchess her birthday had made of her, or the apparently insipid woman he’d been engaged to marry. She was more vibrant and real to him than either of those illusory creatures. She hopped up beside him on the desk. Her legs swung back and forth.

‘What are you doing in here?’ She glanced about the room that contained only a desk, three empty bookcases and a solitary painting hanging on the wall.

‘Thinking.’

She studied him, her head tipped to one side. ‘About?’

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