The Crown Prince's Bride (Royal Duology 2)

Her breath caught in her chest. “And what did you choose?”

He held her gaze. “It came down to asking myself, if I’d known what lay ahead, would I have still married Ceci? And the answer was yes. All the pain, all the grief . . . it was still worth it. And if I’m lucky enough to find that kind of love again? Well, I’d be a fool to let it slip through my fingers because I’m too much of a coward to own it. To give it.”

There was no stopping her pulse now, or the quickening of her breath. “Raoul . . .”

To her utter shock, tears filled his eyes. They shone at her as he said, “I love you, Stephani. I love how smart you are and your confidence and your intuition. I love how you laugh and how you love my children and talk to them as if they matter. I love your sweet tooth and your apartment and the way you feel in my arms.”

He sniffed and two tears dropped out of the corners of his eyes. “And I love that you’re carrying my baby and that you’re so beautiful it hurts. Please, reconsider. Marry me. And not because we need to legitimize this baby or throw together a quiet wedding, but because I love you and you love me and we need to be a family. We can take out a headline in The Sun for all I care. If the world knows this baby was conceived two months ago . . . so what? I’m tired of being the perfect prince. I want to live again, Steph. And I want to do that with you. Just you.”

She nodded, swiping away tears of her own. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice tight as she tried to keep control.

“What on earth for?”

“I don’t even know.” She cried a bit and laughed at the same time. “Just that this ended up such a mess. I’ve loved you for so long, and when you shut me out and pushed me aside, it hurt so badly. I wasn’t patient with you, when I promised myself I would be.”

“I didn’t deserve your patience,” he countered, smiling a little. He reached over to his desk for a tissue and wiped her eyes with it. “When Papa had his heart attack, all I could see was how I was going to have to step up and that our trip had been so self-indulgent. So . . . out of character for me. I felt guilty because of it, like I should have been here.”

“But being in France didn’t cause his heart attack.”

“I know that.”

She gazed into his eyes. “I wouldn’t trade those days for anything,” she answered. “Not a moment.”

“Me either.”

He patted his knee. “Will you come over here, please, and let me hold you?”

She got up from her chair and slid over onto his lap. Oh, it felt good to have his arms around her again. He snuggled her close and the put one wide hand over her belly. “I didn’t even get to tell you that I’m happy about the baby,” he whispered. “Or how beautiful you are carrying it.” He looked up into her face. “You tell me how you want to proceed, and that’s what we’ll do.”

“I want us to be a team,” she responded immediately, touching his face. “I want us to make decisions together. I want to rely on you and oh, Raoul, I want you to rely on me. For all things. For work and for play and for raising a family. I love Em and Max. And I think they would want you to be happy. It doesn’t mean forgetting their mother. She’ll always be a part of all our lives.”

“Consider it done.” He turned his head and kissed her palm. “Now, there’s just one thing left for you to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Answer my question.”

The hope she’d tried to tamp down blossomed fully in her heart, along with a wide smile. “Your Highness, el Príncipe Raoul Navarro a Marazur, I have very good recall. And a question was not asked. I was, however, issued a command.”

“Then allow me to rephrase. Stephani Savalas, will you marry me? Will you be my wife, mother to my children, queen of my country?”

Oh my. The gravity of it reached in and grabbed her, but she took a deep breath and nodded. “Yes,” she replied, hugging him tightly. “Yes, I believe I will.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The wedding was held five weeks later, a private ceremony properly administered by the priest at the cathedral. Rose and Diego stood for the bride and groom, while the rest of the Navarro family sat in the first two pews. Max and Emilia were beaming—Max in his tux from Diego’s wedding, and Emilia in a new dress and shoes with just the tiniest little heel. At the bride’s request, several of the palace staff attended as well, including Señora Ortiz, Marco, Sofia, and Marcella.

Stephani wore a Ferretti empire-waisted gown that suited her perfectly and hid the tiny bubble that was beginning to form at her waist. When she reached the top of the aisle, she turned to the children and gave them each a rose from her bouquet and a kiss, awed that she was going to be their new mama and so very happy to be taking on the job. After the vows, her hand shook as she held it out, but steadied when Raoul put her fingers in his and slipped the wedding band over her knuckle. To her delight, he lifted her hand and kissed it before letting it go.

After the ceremony, they went back to the castle for a private celebration. The event was not kept from the public, but was rather more low-key, which was fine with Stephani. She’d never been in it for the big production or flash; instead she had the wedding she wanted with the people she loved. It didn’t get any better than that.

And when the day was over, she and Raoul went to the nursery and tucked the children into bed.

“Good night, Max. Good night, Emilia,” Raoul said, leaning down and kissing their foreheads one at a time.

“Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, darlings,” Stephani said softly.