Page 65 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

‘Speak for yourself,’ Seb said. ‘These last ten months have severely tested my patience.’

‘Today every single member of castle staff has received a gift and a handwritten card with a personal message of thanks for all their efforts since the storm,’ Helene said. ‘Ma’am, myself and the handful of castle staff who’ve been involved with your requests are rooting for you. We hope your plan works. The prince deserves to be happy and that’s not how he’s been since you left.’

Would she succeed in that? Violetta thought, with a twist to her stomach as she heard Leo’s voice up ahead, greeting other new arrivals. The elderly guest he’d been greeting moved off and now Violetta could see him.

She drank in the sight. His height, his broad shoulders. Those eyes that could make you feel like the only creature in the world. The beautifully cut tuxedo that showed off his impressive physique. He looked leaner, darker. More forbidding even than she remembered, and his lustrous hair was longer. It curled over his collar. He’d even grown a beard. All in all, it was only just on the right side of untamed.

Heaven help her, it was... Oh, God, it washot.

Her throat tightened. Her mouth went dry. What if she tried to greet him and nothing came out?

‘Your Highness...’ Seb was saying.

She tried to catch her breath. Was she hyperventilating? Here, amongst all these people, with nowhere to run and hide. She was. She actually couldn’t breathe.

Then Leo looked up. Their eyes met.

‘Grand Duchessa?’ Seb’s voice came again.

What if she fainted? Right here. Oh, how mortifying—

‘Violetta!’

She jumped, looking up to see Seb grimacing.

‘If it’s all the same to you I’d like to retain the use of my arm after tonight.’

He sent a pained look to where her fingers were clenched in a death grip on his sleeve.

‘I’m so sorry. It’s just—’

‘I know. But relax!’ Seb whispered as Leo began walking towards them. ‘Trust me, it’s all going to be fine.’

But what if it wasn’t?

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

LEOHADKNOWNthe instant she’d joined the guests mingling on the terrace. Glimpsing the slight figure in floating ivory through the crowd on the arm of his cousin.

The aged princess, whose gnarled fingers he’d just taken, winced as his hand convulsed around hers. He made his apologies as she moved off.

His attention slewed straight back to Violetta. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her rich brown hair caught up in an unstructured knot. Her dress, a simple gossamer sheath. On any other it would have been a shapeless sack, but of her it made a goddess. Ethereal, and gorgeous. He wanted to gaze at her for ever. He wanted to fall on his knees and worship at her feet.

Leo knew he’d badly misjudged. That even seeing her with Seb was going to be too much; his cousin, who his calm, rational head knew for a certainty would nevereverbetray him. But all that mattered to the slavering, jealous beast that reared up inside him was that Seb was another male and he was standing too close to her.

For one crazed moment he actually thought about turning on his heel and just walking out of there. Quitting the party where he was host. But then he spied Helene, talking to Violetta, and whatever vestige of reason was clinging on reminded him of all the work that she and the castle team had done to put this evening together, and he knew he couldn’t do it, couldn’t let any of his people down by taking the coward’s way out and leaving.

Instead he headed straight towards her. Aiming to get their meeting out of the way. The blood was rushing in his ears. Despite the pleasant breeze coming off the lake a trickle of sweat slid down his back.

Then there she stood.

He devoured the sight as a starved man hungered after a banquet. The sweetly pointed chin, those warm eyes, and slender limbs.

‘Good evening, Your Serene Highness.’

‘Good evening, Grand Duchessa.’ Leo took the proffered hand and bowed over it. He made a little heel click. ‘Thank you for being so gracious as to join us this evening. I trust you are well?’ His voice would barely work. Could he sound any more stilted?

‘Oh, yes, thank you. I’m... I’m very well.’

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