It was impossible to concentrate with Raoul’s mouth doing the most marvelous things to her.
“‘The only thing you lack is a title. That’s because you were born on the wrong side of the Atlantic.’”
“Sophie!” Raoul’s chuckling had turned to laughter.
“‘I wasn’t cut out to be his princess, but you are. It just goes to show you that, given time,
Lee blushed a deep scarlet and tried to hide the letter from him. But he pulled it away from her and finished reading it while he held her crushed in his arms.
“‘You think I didn’t know about your secret fantasies?
“‘After you’re married, the four of us will be able to get together whenever we want. But I have to tell you-I can’t wait to see you riding in the carriage next to your prince after you come out of the cathedral. Luciano and I will be watching and waving. Blow us a kiss,
Lee burrowed against Raoul, trying to hide her tears of happiness.
Raoul ran his hands through her silken curls. “It looks like Sophie’s problem is contagious. But I have a remedy. Let’s get out of here. My private jet is standing by at the airport. We’ll have dinner on the plane and you can sleep all the way to Geneva. We need to be married to each other,
“I don’t either.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
She cherished those words, but in her soul she knew it wasn’t all that mattered.
Lee had fallen in love with an extraordinary man who had a special destiny. While she’d been reading Sophie’s letter it had come to her that it was her responsibility to see he fulfilled it.
“Darling,” she murmured, “before we leave, there’s something important I need you to do for me first.”
He pressed a passionate kiss to her mouth. “Anything.”
Lee reached around for the rings and handed them back to him. “Will you put the amethyst on this ring finger?” She lifted her right hand.
His hands trembled as he did her bidding.
“I’ll wear this in remembrance of a prince who was willing to give up his kingdom for me. And now-” her voice caught “-if you’ll put the other ring on this finger?” She held out her left hand.
His beautiful blue eyes looked dazed. Finally he slid it home.
“This ring I’ll wear in remembrance of the man who’s going to be my husband, the father of our children, the man I’ll love and adore through eternity.” Her eyes fused with his once more. “It will be my joy and privilege to come live with you in your kingdom. Sophie spoke the truth. You’ve been the prince of my heart for a very long time, Raoul. You always will be.”
He gathered her against him. For a long time they simply rocked back and forth. She felt the moisture on his cheeks with a sense of wonder.
It made her feel a special kinship with Luciano, who’d also dared to reach out for an impossible love. One day they would have to compare notes. But not now.
Now Lee had all she could handle while she held her destiny in her arms.
THE KING’S BRIDE
Lucy Gordon
Lucy Gordon cut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness and Sir John Gielgud. She also camped out with lions in Africa, and had many other unusual experiences that have often provided the background for her books. She is married to a Venetian, whom she met while on holiday in Venice. They got engaged within two days.
You can visit her Web site at www.zyworld.com/LucyGordon
Two of her books have won the Romance Writers of America RITA® Award:
CHAPTER ONE
A SILENCE fell over the packed room. Lizzie looked up quickly, eager to see the man she’d come to find.
His Majesty King Daniel, hereditary ruler of Voltavia, twenty-fifth of his line, thirty-five years old, monarch of his country for the last six months.
Since he’d arrived for his state visit London had been full of official pictures, so she’d thought she knew what he looked like. But while photographs had shown the proud carriage of his head and the stern authority of his lean face, there was no way they could convey the vividness of his features. Lizzie noticed his eyes in particular. They were dark, but with a brilliance that she’d seen only once before, in a picture of his grandfather.
He was tall but carried himself stiffly, and she guessed that a press conference, such as this, came hard to him. In Voltavia he was a monarch, with a good deal of power. He wouldn’t take kindly to answering questions from journalists, and Lizzie knew he’d been persuaded to give this conference only for the sake of ‘good international relations’.
Before his entrance they had all been warned-no personal questions, no reference to his late wife. No questions about his three children, none of whom had accompanied him to London.
Now he was here and every line of his body showed how ill at ease he felt. He took his seat behind a table on a platform, facing the crowd with a practised air of polite interest.
The questions flowed. They were largely routine and his answers were the same, giving nothing away-the friendship of their two countries-mutual interests, etc, etc. Somebody mentioned his grandfather, the late King Alphonse, whose death, six months earlier, had brought Daniel to the throne. Daniel made a short, restrained speech in praise of his grandfather, whose lasting legacy etc, etc.
In fact, as everyone knew, for the last ten years of his life Alphonse had lived in a twilight world, struck down by a massive stroke. At twenty-five Daniel had become regent, and king in all but name. But Alphonse was still associated with the great days of monarchy. His long reign had begun when kings had had real power, and his personal prestige had ensured that some of it clung to the throne, even as he lay dying.
As Daniel mouthed polite nothings Lizzie mentally compared his features with those of Alphonse, whose personally signed photograph hung on her wall at home. There was a close family resemblance, not only in the dominant nose and firm chin, but in the expression of the face: proud, closed, unyielding.
They’d said of Alphonse that he was the handsomest man of his generation, and had still been saying it when
