Page 67 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

He scowled as his cousin swirled past them with a voluptuous brunette in his arms. ‘I don’t know, someone...else.’

She rolled her eyes and just in case he hadn’t got the message, gave an exasperated sigh too.

‘It can’t be me, if that’s what you’re angling for.’

She snatched her hand from his and stopped dead.

‘Angling?’ Numerous heads swivelled in their direction, but she didn’t care who heard. She was too angry. Too hurt. Was he really saying these callous things to her? ‘You make it sound like you’re the prize. Well, I’ve got news for you, you’re not. I am, and I’ll bestow myself wherever the hell I choose.’

‘Who here doesn’t know that you’re the prize?’ Leo said, flinging out a protective arm as another couple threatened to dance straight into her. ‘Which creature watching your rise over the last few months hasn’t worked out you’re the most extraordinary human being ever to come out of San Nicolo, or Grimentz for that matter?’

‘You, apparently, because if you had you would have never let me go.’

She spun away from him and began weaving her way through the other dancers.

‘Where are you going?’ he demanded.

‘Anywhere that’s away from you.’ The Arctic Circle. No, the Antarctic. That was further.

‘I haven’t finished yet.’

‘Trust me. You have nothing left to say that I want to hear.’

She reached the edge of the dance floor and stepped down onto the path. The goggling crowds parted as the Grand Duchess of San Nicolo stormed past with the Prince of Grimentz in hot pursuit.

Violetta spied an arbour, tucked away in a quiet corner of the garden. Desperate to get away from Leo, from everyone, from this whole miserable evening, she hitched up her hem and ran towards it. She groaned in frustration when she discovered it was already occupied.

With those long legs of his Leo easily matched her stride.

‘You will excuse us,’ Leo ordered and with no attempt at politeness. He looked so fierce Violetta suspected an entire platoon of his guardsmen would have thought twice before remaining where they were.

As it was, an actual guardsman from Grimentz and a San Nicolo doctor—Violetta recognised her from a recent visit to the state hospital—swiftly unwound from their passionate clinch and shot to their feet. With a bow for Leo and a curtsy for her, they beat their retreat.

‘Isn’t it obvious I don’t want to talk to you?’

He folded his arms across his chest. ‘I need you to know that Seb’s not the man for you.’

She flung up her hands. ‘I have no interest in Sebastien. Even though he is infinitely more charming. Much less frustrating, pig-headed, overbearing, patronising, pompous.’

Leo’s brow rose. ‘Now who’s dishing out insults?’

‘You deserve every one of them.’

She sat down. The layers of her dress settling around her with an indignant sigh. ‘I had such high hopes for this evening.’

‘I hoped merely to get through it.’

She looked up at him with a frown. ‘What do you mean?’

He glowered at a terracotta pot of pretty tumbling geraniums but remained stubbornly silent.

‘You broke my heart, you know.’

‘So I’ve been told.’

‘Don’t you even care that you hurt me?’

‘It had to be done.’

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