The Prince and the Wedding Planner

He stood there for a moment as though questioning her decision. But her determination was stronger than the way his dark eyes could make her knees turn to gelatin. Wasn’t it?

Before she could answer that question, he turned and continued through the passageway. She followed him as they ascended a set of narrow steps with no handrail. Bianca pressed her hands to the cold stone walls to balance herself. They kept going up and up. Then there was a switchback and they ascended another flight of steps.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there.”

That didn’t really answer her question. But she would be grateful to get out of this secret passageway. She felt totally disoriented and utterly reliant on Leo—the man of mystery. She wondered what other secrets he had and if any of them were nearly as interesting as these passageways.

At last they reached a doorway, if it could be called that. It was more like a movable part of the wall. A faint bit of light lit the way.

As they stepped out of the wall, Bianca asked, “Where are we?”

There wasn’t a voice to be heard. So they were a long way from the ballroom. And there weren’t any other sounds. They were alone. All alone.

Stay focused.

But he’s so cute. And what happens here would be our secret.

But he hasn’t apologized. He can’t just do what he wants without consequences.

Leo turned to her on what appeared to be some sort of landing. There was a set of stairs to his left and a single step that led to a wooden door on his right. The window let in the moonlight.

“We are in the east tower,” he said.

Her heart pitter-pattered in her chest.

Why had he brought her here?

* * *

Now that he had her alone, he wasn’t sure this was such a good idea. But it was too late to back out now.

“I wanted you to have the best vantage point. Come on.” Leo took Bianca’s hand and led her up the step and out the door.

“Vantage point for what?” She glanced around.

In the moonlight, the general layout was visible. Leo let go of her hand and lit some torches. A warm glow filled the space and highlighted the large daybed with a twin mattress and a dozen plush pillows.

“What is this place?” Bianca asked.

“It’s my private spot. It’s where I come when I have a lot on my mind. Sometimes I sleep out here.”

He gazed into her eyes.

His heart pounded against his ribs. All he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and crush his lips against hers. He wanted to forget his duty—his obligations. In Bianca’s arms, he was certain he would find the release he was seeking.

But when she gazed up at him like he hung the stars—like she was doing now—guilt assailed him.

He needed to be honest with her. She needed to know the real him. Because he wasn’t the perfect prince that his mother portrayed to the world.

His thoughts drifted back to the week he’d spent on this very terrace, refusing to go back inside the palace. It had been the darkest point in his life—

“Leo, what’s the matter?” Bianca’s voice drew him from his troubled thoughts.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“It’s something. The pain is written all over your face. I’m a pretty good listener—that is if you want to talk about it.”