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Winter Wedding for the Prince(20)

By:Barbara Wallace


Again, she folded her arms. “What would you have me do, Armando? This is your sister’s wedding rehearsal. Should I just ignore the man? Stop talking to him?”

That had been exactly what he wanted. Hearing the words aloud, however, he realized how unrealistic they sounded. “Just stop throwing yourself at him,” he said.

Rosa inhaled deeply through her nose. Though they sparkled, her eyes had none of the warmth they’d had the other night.

“No,” she said.

One word, spoken sharply like a slap. In fact, Armando’s reflexes stiffened as if it was one. “I beg your pardon?” This was where she usually turned passive-aggressive, agreeing while showing her displeasure with a sarcastic yes, Your Highness.

“I said no,” she repeated. The first time in three years that she had defied him.

It was the most arousing sight Armando had ever seen.

Taking another breath, she started walking toward him with careful, measured steps. “I’m not going to let people tell me what to do anymore. Not Fredo. Not you...”

“I am not Fredo,” Armando shot out. “Do not compare me to that bottom dweller.”

“Then stop acting like him!” she snapped back. “So long as I don’t hurt anyone, who I find attractive and who I don’t is none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Armando grabbed her wrist. He regretted it as soon as she stiffened, but the agitation in his stomach had reached epic proportions. All he could picture was Darius’s handsome face and his big hands curling over those creamy shoulders. “Are you planning to kiss him?” he asked.

“That’s none of your—”

But he wouldn’t be deterred. Some perverse part of him needed to know. “You just said you found him attractive. Does that mean you’re planning to kiss him?”

“Maybe I am,” she replied, yanking her arm free. “And so what? Unlike you, I can care again. Just because you’ve declared yourself dead doesn’t mean I have to.”

“Then you are planning to kiss him.”

“Whether I do or don’t is none of your business.”

Armando wasn’t sure if it was the assertiveness or the imaginings assaulting his brain, but he couldn’t let her go. Grabbing her wrist a second time, he pulled her close. Caught off guard, her body fell into his, enabling him to slip his free arm around her waist.

“Let me go,” she said.

The gentleman inside him was about to when he looked into her eyes. Beautiful, fiery eyes demanding answers. And all of a sudden, he had them. The emotions that had been swirling inside him since the concert came together with astonishing clarity. Before he could stop himself, he leaned in to kiss her.

She jerked her head back. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I—” He was acting on instinct. “I’m sorry.”

Breaking their embrace, he walked over to the stairway and sat down, the irony of the location not lost on him. With his eyes focused on the floor, he listened to the sounds of Rosa straightening her dress. “I want you,” he said simply.

She let out a noise that sounded like a snort. “Seriously?” she said. “Five days ago you stood in your office and apologized for wanting me, said you weren’t being fair to me. And now all of a sudden you’re doing everything you apologized about?”

“I know. My actions don’t make much sense.”

“They don’t make any sense, Armando.”

Seeing her standing there so gloriously indignant, Armando’s stomach lurched. How could he have been so blind? “I only realized myself,” he said.

“Realized what?”

“How much I care.”

The color drained from her cheeks. “Care?” Her voice cracked with emotion as she repeated the word. The sound forced Armando to his feet, but when he reached out, she held up her hand. “For three years, I’ve listened to how your heart was buried with Christina.”

“I thought it was.” In fact, if someone had asked him eight hours ago, he would have given that very answer. “Then tonight, when I saw you and Darius...”

“That’s your possessiveness talking,” she said. “I’ve seen it before. Darius paid attention to me, so suddenly you decide you don’t want to share. Then, soon as his interest wanes...” She shrugged.

“No.” Damn Fredo. No doubt her ex was responsible for that kind of thinking. “I mean, yes,” he continued. “I won’t lie. I wanted to break Darius’s finger every time he touched you. But my jealousy was only the final piece of the puzzle. What I’m feeling inside...”

She was facing away from him. Seemed that was her favorite position tonight, giving him the cold shoulder. Curling his hands around those shoulders, he buried his nose in her hair for a moment before struggling to find the right words.

“Have you ever looked through an unfocused telescope, only to turn the knob and make everything sharp and clear?” he asked.

Rosa nodded.

“That is what it was like for me, a few minutes ago. One moment I had all these sensations I couldn’t explain swirling inside me, then the next everything made sense. The way your kisses haunted me, the fact I wanted to deport Darius for kissing your hand—they weren’t isolated sensations at all. They were my soul coming back to life.”

“Just like that?” She still sounded skeptical, but she had continued leaning against him. Armando took that as progress.

“Like a bolt of lightning,” he said, kissing her neck again.

She pulled away, leaving him standing in the middle of the archway by himself. “You don’t believe me.”

“I...”

“Or...” A second thought came to him. About how easily she brushed off his apology as his ego. “Is it that you don’t care?”

So excited had he been about his revelation that he didn’t stop to think that she might not share his feelings. He was ashamed of himself, although not nearly as ashamed as he was disappointed. Having come back to life, he desperately wanted her to feel the same intensity of desire and need that he felt.

Still, if she didn’t, he had no choice but to respect her wishes. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable,” he told her. “I let my enthusiasm cloud my judgment.”

“No, you didn’t,” she said, turning. “Make me feel uncomfortable, that is. I do care. I’m not quite sure when things changed, but I care a lot.”

“But?” There was no mistaking the hesitancy in her voice. As much as her proclamation made his spirits want to soar, Armando held them in check and prayed what came next wasn’t rejection.

Rosa shrugged, palms up. “I don’t know what to think,” she said.

“Then don’t think,” he replied. “Just go with your heart.”

“I—I don’t know,” Rosa replied.

He made it sound easy. Just go with your heart. But what if your heart was frightened and confused? She had come to terms with her feelings being one-sided, only to hear him say they weren’t. How could she be sure this sudden realization wasn’t a reaction to another man coveting his possession? After all, Armando was used to having her undivided attention. Who was to say that once he claimed her attention again he wouldn’t lose interest? Chubby, divorced, insecure. Wasn’t as if she had a bucket load of qualities to offer.

Nor had he said he loved her. He cared for her, needed her, wanted her. All wonderful words, but none of them implied he was offering his heart. For all his talk of coming to life, he was essentially in the same place as before, unable or unwilling to give her a true emotional commitment. He was simply done trying to be fair. Flattering to think his desire for her was great enough to override his sense of honor.

On the other hand, her feelings wanted to override her common sense, so maybe they were even. As she watched him close the gap between them, she felt her heartbeat quicken to match her breath.

“You do know that we’re under the mistletoe yet again, don’t you?”

Damn sprig of berries had quite a knack for timing, didn’t it? Anticipation ran down her spine breaking what little hold common sense still had. Armando was going kiss her, and she was going to let him. She wanted to lose herself in his arms. Believe for a moment that his heart felt more than simple desire.

This time when he wrapped his arm around her waist, she slid against him willingly, aligning her hips against his with a smile.

“Appears to be our fate,” she whispered. “Mistletoe, that is.”

“You’ll get no complaints from me.” She could hear her heart beating in her ears as his head dipped toward hers. “Merry Christmas, Rosa.”

“Mer—” His kiss swallowed the rest of her wish. Rosa didn’t care if she spoke another word again. She’d waited her whole life to be kissed like this. Fully and deeply, with a need she felt all the way down to her toes.

They were both breathless when the moment ended. With their foreheads resting against each other, she felt Armando smile against her lips. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered again.

Rosa felt like a princess.

Behind them, a throat cleared. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness.”

The voice belonged to Vittorio Mastella, head of security. He stood in the doorway as statue-like as ever, dare she say even overly so, the way his hands were glued tight against his thighs. “I’ve been asked to deliver a message to you.”