Page 40 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

‘Your grand duchy.’

‘You’re not going to try and persuade me to marry you after all?’

‘Are you persuadable?’

‘No,’ she said, flashing him an odd look, as if trying to convince herself as much as him. ‘I won’t lose the duchy by taking a husband.’

‘Then I won’t be wasting my time with that.’ It surprised him to discover he meant it.

‘But still you were thinking about it.’

‘Actually, I was thinking more about what my father would say about the turn of events.’ He’d have been incoherent with rage.

‘He’d have been disappointed?’

‘An understatement. He’ll be cursing me from the grave. I can hear him now. If you don’t regain the duchy what use can you be to Grimentz? You might as well have not existed.’

Violetta watched him sadly. ‘Your father was a monster too.’

Long before his father’s death, Leo had learned to expect nothing from him, but it didn’t mean it couldn’t still hurt. Like the swift stab of pain at the reminder he meant nothing but a way to grab the duchy.

‘Indeed he was.’

She glanced around her. ‘What room is this?’

‘It used to be my grandfather’s study. I regret I never knew him, but Grand-Mère kept everything as it was after he died and it was my and Seb’s favourite room in the house.’

‘Not because of the view?’ She squinted out at the gardens lost beneath the mist and rain.

‘Partly. It looks straight out over the mountains to the north. You feel like you are at the edge of civilisation and that hordes of barbarians could come streaming over the peaks at any moment.’

‘Sounds lovely.’

‘It was to two young boys. Grand-Père had a collection of medieval swords and shields.’ He pointed at the lines of fading on the white plaster. ‘They were mounted on the walls. We imagined all sorts of battles and heroics, of course.’

He fell silent for a moment. Remembering the very real, emotionally traumatic battles he’d endured back at the castle.

‘Sometimes, when things with my father got really bad,’ he said, ‘I’d imagine climbing over those mountains and never coming back.’

‘Was it often bad?’

‘Yes.’ His gut churned at the memories of his father’s displeasure. ‘However hard I tried, nothing I did ever pleased him. The best exam results, becoming captain of all the sport teams, trophies, accolades. Nothing was good enough. It got so much worse after my mother left though, as unfortunately for me I inherited her eyes. I don’t think he could forgive me for being a daily reminder of her. He’d certainly never forgive me for losing the duchy.’

Violetta’s conscience pricked her. Her defiance had stolen Leo’s chance to finally prove Prince Friedrich wrong by regaining the duchy.

Leo caught her sympathetic gaze.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said, with a quirk of his mouth. ‘I’ll move on.’

He would but not with her. She had to do this alone...didn’t she?

Where had that niggle of doubt come from? Possibly because there was something so appealing about the man sitting beside her. Something about his vitality and his vulnerability. The warmth in those startling blue eyes. Not at all the prince she’d thought she’d fled from.

And then there were his kisses last night.

She peeked at him. Her gaze lingering on his beautiful mouth, with lips that were so unimaginably soft. Her own tingled at the memory.

‘Violetta,’ he warned. ‘If you stare at me like that I won’t be answerable for the consequences.’

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