The door to the party opened. The blast of music echoed through the hallway. Giselle beamed at them and then yelled over the music. “Come on guys. Let’s party.” She moved over and latched her arm with Leo’s. “I requested your favorite song.”
Giselle motioned for Bianca to join them before disappearing inside. Bianca moved toward the door but remained in the hallway. She couldn’t go back inside. She closed the door.
This was difficult enough. She just needed to get it over with. She needed to take the queen up on her offer and return to Tuscany as soon as possible.
Because if she loved Leo—and she did love him with all her heart—she would be on that plane tonight. Leo needed to live the life he was destined for—the throne that he always wanted. He deserved to have a wife by his side that the people looked up to and respected.
And it wasn’t her. She probably wasn’t even a Bartolini. If she were to marry Leo and the press got ahold of the story it would ruin Leo. She would do anything to protect him, including sacrificing her heart.
The acknowledgment hurt Bianca more than she knew possible. She didn’t fit in with her family. She didn’t fit in Patazonia. Where did she belong?
CHAPTER NINETEEN
HE’D MESSED UP.
Big time.
Leo had taken time to think about what Bianca had said to him instead of following his heart. In his defense, he never expected her to turn down his marriage proposal. But that was becoming a thing with Bianca—not reacting the way he expected.
By the time he’d gotten his head screwed on straight, Bianca had left the party. He’d quietly slipped away, eager to find her. He had to convince her that they belonged together. Maybe theirs wouldn’t be a fairy-tale marriage, but truth be told, he didn’t believe in fairy tales.
He wanted a relationship that was real—a relationship that was strong, reliable and enduring. He could have all of that with Bianca. He firmly believed it. In fact, he couldn’t imagine his life without her in it.
He demanded the keys to the SUV that his security detail had used to escort him to the reception. He was in no mood to be coddled by his team. He needed some space to himself. He tramped the accelerator. When he found the inside of the vehicle too constricting, he put down the windows and let the cool night air rush over his face as he raced back to the palace.
This can be fixed. It isn’t too late.
He kept repeating the mantra the whole way home. It was as if he said it enough, it would be so.
The SUV’s tires screeched to a halt in front of the palace. He raced inside. He could feel curious stares from the staff, wondering what had him in such a rush, but he didn’t have the patience or the inclination to explain.
He took the stairs two at a time. He racewalked down the hallway. He rapped his knuckles on Bianca’s door.
“Bianca?” He waited. No response. “Bianca, we need to talk.”
The door opened but it wasn’t Bianca on the other side. It was one of the staff.
“Where is Bianca?” he asked, not caring how anxious he might appear. He didn’t have time to worry about appearances.
The young woman looked confused. “Miss Bartolini isn’t here.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“She left.”
“Left?” That couldn’t be. “As in left the palace? To go back to the party?”
The young woman looked flustered. “I don’t know where she went. I was instructed to help her pack and then I started to straighten up. Was that a mistake?”
The mistake was all his. The weight of his error mounted with every passing moment.
Noticing the maid’s worried look, he said, “You’ve done nothing wrong. Continue what you were doing.”
He turned and strode away. She’d left already? The after-party hadn’t even wound down.
He wasn’t giving up yet. He could catch her at the airport. He’d do whatever it took.
Leo retraced his steps down the staircase, but at the bottom stood the queen. “Leopold, what is the meaning of this? You’re racing up the driveway, screeching tires and running through the palace as though it’s some sort of gymnasium.”