Their Christmas Royal Wedding

had gone through as planned, then Luca and she could have, would have been happy together.’

‘But not as happy as they are now?’

Cesar shrugged, looked out of the window over the vast vista, where green and grey and brown swathed the landscape, the people not even tiny dots. ‘Who knows? Love brings its own risks, of loss and grief. It complicates life. If we marry you do not need to fear I will fall in love with anyone.’ He could hear the twist of disdain in his voice, hastened to sweeten it. ‘I will be a one-woman man. Your man.’

Now awareness shimmered on the air, in echo of the mist outside, and the words felt like a vow. ‘I would not be unfaithful—in truth I cannot imagine why I would want to be.’

As he looked at her, saw her gaze out over a country she had been called upon to rule, he was struck anew by her beauty, and by a visceral desire. Her brown eyes held vulnerability and doubt. ‘How can you know that? You are a man who is used to variety—you’ve been with so many beautiful women. How can you possibly swap from a playboy lifestyle to that of a married man?’

It was a fair question. ‘It will not be a problem.’

‘They are easy words to say.’ She turned to him. ‘After all, just a couple of months ago you were involved, had a girlfriend. Amelia. Amelia Scott-Browne.’ A ghost of a smile. ‘That is common knowledge. She is blonde and beautiful and titled. Yet you’ve got over her remarkably quickly.’

‘I was involved with Amelia but not in any deep sense. We had an agreeable interlude but it was never serious. There was nothing to get over.’

On his part, anyway; yet he had for once completely miscalculated with Amelia and annoyance tugged his gut as their break-up scene flashed into his mind.

‘Amelia, we have had a good time, have we not? A lot of fun. But this is a good time for an ending. I must go back to my country and help sort out the problems there.’

‘I can wait.’

It was then he’d realised it was going to be difficult.

‘Perhaps now is a good time to talk about beginnings, not endings. I want to marry you, Cesar. I love you and I believe you love me.’

Yet her green eyes had held assessment rather than love, or was that wishful thought on his part?

‘I would make an excellent ambassadorial wife. No scandal, always the right conversation, and I’m good with people. We could make it work.’

As he’d listened, his brain had whirred. There would be time for anger at himself later; now he had to figure out damage limitation.

‘I am sorry, Amelia, but I will not marry you. There is no question of love. You always knew that.’

‘But I thought that when you saw how well I understood your needs you would change your mind. Think of all I can offer you, Cesar.’

‘I have no doubt you would make an excellent ambassadorial wife, Amelia. But you know full well that I never had any intention or desire to get married. And if I do it will only be for my country’s benefit. That is as it is. But I would like us to part amicably.’

Her green eyes had narrowed in what now seemed obvious calculation. ‘It wouldn’t be a good time for another scandal to hit your country.’

So much for love, he thought.

‘It wouldn’t,’ he’d agreed easily. ‘But in the long term it would hurt you more than it would me. I still won’t marry you, and neither will anyone else in diplomatic circles.’

Her eyes had widened and her lips had tipped up into a smile that hadn’t reached them.

‘I understand that, and of course I wouldn’t cause a scandal.’ Her voice had emerged through gritted teeth. ‘I hope that we can remain friends.’

Thus they had parted, and in truth he had given Amelia very little thought since, his focus on the events here and his impending marriage. And in the past days on Gabriella, who was looking at him with a troubled expression.

‘So you could walk away without a regret, just move on?’

‘Yes.’ There was little point in pretence. ‘I have always been upfront with any woman I have been involved with that I could not offer permanence or anything serious.’

‘But what if it had become deeper? What if you had started to have feelings for each other?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said simply. ‘But that never did happen.’ He’d made sure it couldn’t, kept it all light and on a superficial level. ‘I always made sure that I kept the relationships short term. Prevention is better than cure, after all.’

‘You make it sound like an illness, a disease that you have had to avoid.’