Page 55 of Stranded with His Runaway Bride

He slid out of her and stood, grabbed a towel, hitching it about his waist. He took her hand, helped her to her feet, wrapped her in a bath robe. Took a fresh towel and carefully squeezed the excess water out of her hair.

He tenderly pushed a stray damp lock from her brow, pressed his lips there instead. ‘Now I need that food you promised me,’ he said, taking her hand.

She went with him back into the lounge and watched as he sank to one of the armchairs.

She removed the covers from the food trolley. Her fingers trembled as she scooped sliced meats and cheese onto a plate. There were olives and bread from Grimentz and a bottle of San Nicolo wine. She poured two glasses.

He waited, bare chested, bare legged. Unselfconsciously sitting there and making no comment on what she’d just declared.

She handed him the plate and a napkin. Set the wine on the small table beside him. She bit her lip.

‘Did you hear me?’

‘I heard you, Violetta.’

‘And?’

He made her wait while he ate some of the bread and olives, sipped his wine.

‘And it changes nothing. We’ve had this conversation before, remember. It’s not possible for people like us. The sooner you accept that, the sooner all the madness and striving goes away. Be the leader your country needs. That’s what you were put here to do and there’s satisfaction to be had from that.’

What about the satisfaction they’d given each other just now? Wasn’t that also a precious thing?

‘But I want you, too.’

‘That’s not possible.’

‘Why not? I love you,’ she said. Oh, it felt so right to say that out loud. She knew it now. That was what all the conflicting emotions of the last few days had been about. ‘With everything I am, I love you. How can you pretend that doesn’t mean anything for us?’

There was a long pause.

‘You’ll love your duchy more, trust me. Nothing will come close. Certainly not me.’

How could he believe that after the way she’d just given herself to him? Was he made of stone?

‘You’re saying I can’t have both. I’m a woman first and a princess second. San Nicolo can have my days, but my nights... They’d be for you.’

‘You’re being naive, Grand Duchessa. San Nicolo will swallow you whole. You’ll belong to it entirely and you’ll have nothing left to give.’

Her fingers tightened around her wine glass. ‘You’re rejecting me?’

‘I’m just being realistic. You’ll have to trust me on this. Accept I have more experience and know what I’m talking about. It just couldn’t work, Violetta. Two monarchs with impossible workloads. Overcommitted already. What time would we have for each other?’

Why did all that feel like a lie?

‘You were prepared to marry me before.’

‘When you were to be my consort, with very different responsibilities.’

Or before he got to know her and developed feelings for her. She gathered her courage. It was now or never. She took a step closer to him.

‘You’re scared.’ His eyes flashed in warning but there was too much at stake for her to back down. ‘You’re scared that you’ll get hurt. That your heart will be broken all over again. You must know I’d never do that.’

‘It has nothing to do with my heart and everything to do with the practicalities of the situation. You have no idea what it’s going to be like once you take on your responsibilities.’

Her shoulders tensed. ‘A man telling me he knows better. How many times have I heard that before? I’m not stupid. I may not have had much responsibility yet, but of course I know what will be expected of me as monarch will be a stretch. But I’m strong and I’ll do what it takes.’ She began to pace.

‘Violetta, see sense. I’ve been doing this for years. I know what I’m talking about.’ He was still but his eyes tracked her movements back and forth.

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