The Future King's Bride (The Royal House of Cacciatore 3)

He smiled. She was to step into the role demanded of her, and it seemed that his instincts were correct. She was the perfect choice. ‘My destiny has been fulfilled,’ he murmured.

It wasn’t quite the answer she had been seeking, but Millie supposed that it would have to do. Quelling the butterflies in her stomach, she sat back as Gianferro’s brother stood up to make a toast to the new Princess.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘SO, DO you approve, Millie?’

Millie smiled, wishing she could rid herself of these stupid nerves. Calm down, she told herself—you’re not the only virgin bride on the planet!

‘It’s…it’s beautiful,’ she said softly.

The white stuccoed house stood in its own beautifully landscaped gardens, which eventually ran down to the most beautiful beach she had ever seen—its powdery white sand was studded with pretty, pale shells which contrasted against a sea of blinding blueness.

As a honeymoon destination it was perfect.

Except…

Well, for a start they had been greeted at the door by a butler, a housekeeper, two maids and a chef.

‘A skeleton staff,’ Gianferro had remarked carelessly.

Millie had grown up having staff around, yet—naïvely, perhaps—she had thought that their honeymoon might be the exception. But apparently not.

Inside the house a small table had been laid up for tea in the sitting room, and she sipped at the scented brew gratefully, but had little appetite for the tiny sandwiches and feather-light cakes which accompanied it.

‘You do not like to eat?’ Gianferro frowned. He had wanted to do something to remind her of England, to make her feel at home.

Millie saw the look in his dark eyes and bit into a cucumber sandwich as if her life depended on it. ‘I guess I’m just a little tired,’ she explained carefully. ‘All the excitement of the day.’ And all the days leading up to it. And the restless nights…

Gianferro’s eyes narrowed. ‘Then let us go to our bedroom,’ he instructed silkily.

So the moment had come at last.

Millie felt like a novice swimmer who had been put on the highest diving board as they made their way to a beautiful room containing a vast bed, and there was a valet, removing the last of their empty cases.

She smiled politely at the servant. When would they ever be left on their own?

There had been one brief moment when they had left the wedding breakfast to go and change, when it had been just the two of them, and Millie had stood shyly in Gianferro’s suite of Palace rooms—hers, too now, of course—and looked at him.

He had read the plea in her eyes correctly, taken her veil off with care and then bent his head to kiss her, and the kiss had been like setting fire to a heap of dry twigs. She had eagerly wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her mouth beneath his seeking lips, and given a little yelp of pleasure until he had smiled and shaken his head slightly.

‘Cara,’ he had demurred, gently but firmly unwrapping the arms which clung to him. ‘Not now. Not yet. And not here.’

‘But…’ Her blue eyes were wide with bewilderment. ‘We’re alone. We’re married.’ And I want you. ‘Why not?’

He gave a little sigh, as much composed of regret as frustration at her lack of understanding. He glanced at his watch. ‘Because our departure has been arranged right down to the last second. The car is timed to leave in half an hour—and after that all the journalists can go away and file their copy. The guests cannot leave until we do—and I cannot leave Premiers and Presidents cooling their heels while I make love to my new wife!’

Millie flushed. ‘Of course not. How stupid of me!’

‘Do not worry. You will learn.’ With the tips of his fingers he tilted her face upwards. ‘There will be time enough for the pleasures of the bedroom, Millie. And I do not intend our first time to be a quick…’ His eyes glittered. ‘How do they say? A “whambam”, followed by a hurried dressing which would arouse the knowing smirks of Palace staff.’

Mille’s colour deepened even further. She didn’t want a quick ‘wham-bam’ either—whatever that was! She had hoped for passion and for spontaneity—but now she saw that those hopes were incompatible with her new status.

A great wave of panic began to swell up inside her, but with an effort she wished it away again. Stop fretting, she told herself. It will be all right.

But she was trembling as she turned her back on him, feeling so strange standing there in her pure white wedding gown. ‘Would you mind…unzipping my dress?’

He opened his mouth to call for the new dresser he had appointed for her, but thought better of it, instead sliding the zip slowly all the way down to the small of her back. How tiny her waist! And just above where the zip ended was a peep of the transparent lace of her panties. He swallowed as temptation washed over him, and began to unbutton his uniform.