Royally Bedded, Regally Wedded

It had allowed her to start to relax around him. Start to feel at ease around him. Start to see him not as a prince, nor as a man—but as a person.

They had talked—nothing special, nothing earth-shattering, just easy conversation. About Ben, yes, but about other things too, over meals, and on the beach, and while Ben was playing, absorbed, with his trains and all the other toys that had been delivered to the villa or which he’d discovered in the playroom.

She wasn’t sure what they’d talked about—nothing much came to mind—but she knew was that it hadn’t been a strain, an effort.

It had been…friendly.

Easygoing, casual, relaxed.

But now—now it felt as if tiny bubbles were fizzing through her veins. Effervescing inside her.

Every time he glanced at her.

What’s happening to me?

But she knew. She knew.

‘Goodnight, darling, sleep tight.’

Lizzy bent over to drop a kiss on Ben’s cheek. He was asleep already, she could see. On the other side of the bed, Rico reached out and ruffled his hair gently.

He had insisted on giving Ben his bath that night.

‘We don’t want Mummy’s new dress getting wet, do we?’ he’d said.

Instead, he had been the one to get wet. Lizzy could see where the damp T-shirt clung to his torso. She averted her eyes, but not before Rico had spotted her doing so.

There was a decided glint in his eye as he spoke.

‘I’ll go and get myself cleaned up, then join you for dinner, OK?’

He had given instructions to the chef for a proper dinner that night. Whatever the results of Lizzy’s makeover would prove, he intended to make the evening special for her.

And it would be special indeed. Another wave of disbelief went over him. They had been doing so regularly, every time he looked at her.

It was incredible, just incredible.

He frowned momentarily.

Had she actually looked at herself yet? Surely she must have? And yet that initial reaction, when she’d run from him, blurting that it had all been a disaster, argued that she surely could not have seen the transformation.

He came around the foot of the bed.

‘You may need some kind of wrap,’ he told her. ‘The nights can still be a little chilly. Let’s see what you’ve got.’

He opened the closet door and went in. All her new clothes hung in serried ranks, swathed in plastic protectors. He glanced at them with approval. There was a lot here, and that was good. He wanted her to have as many beautiful outfits as possible. This was just the start.

She had followed him in, just as he’d intended.

‘Where would you store a wrap?’ he asked.

But Lizzy didn’t answer him. Could not.

The whole rear wall of the closet was a mirror, and standing in the mirror, looking back at her, was someone she had never seen before in her life.

Rico straightened and looked first at the woman in the mirror, then at the woman staring at her.

He let her look. Let the look of dazed incomprehension fill her face.