Winter Wedding for the Prince(22)

“Especially when there are children and mutual interests involved,” Mona continued. “When two people are committed to the same goals.”

“Working as a team,” Armando said.

“Precisely.”

That’s what he and Rosa were. A perfectly matched team.

You didn’t break up a perfect team.

He would tell Mona tonight that their arrangement was off. There would be a scandal, which would divert attention away from Arianna and her child’s illegitimacy. That had been the point of accelerating his marriage plans in the first place. Meanwhile he would court Rosa properly.

Fingertips grazed the back of his hand, causing him to stiffen. Mona smiled apologetically. “You looked a million miles away,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I was thinking about the future.” One that looked bright for the first time in years.

“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied, “because I have, too.”

Sadly, they weren’t thinking of the same future, and for that, he felt terrible. It wasn’t Mona’s fault love had a bad sense of timing. “Perhaps we should talk after dinner,” he said.

“I would like that,” Mona replied. She looked down at their hands, which were still connected, she having left hers atop his. “I hope you don’t think me too forward, but I believe you and I could do a lot of good together.”

The muscles along the back of Armando’s neck began to tense. “Good?” he repeated.

“Yes. The flu I caught the other week. Father told you I caught it volunteering at the hospital? He lied. What he didn’t tell you was that the people of Yelgiers are suffering from a terrible health care crisis. A lot of our citizens, mostly women and children, are without decent medical attention. The fact that women are still treated as second-class citizens in many parts of the country, and are therefore seen as undeserving of care, only exacerbates the problem. So many women suffer in silence.”

“Too many,” Armando noted, thinking of the women at Christina’s Home.

“I’ve been reading up on how much your government has done these past years to improve conditions for women and children. I’m hoping that when our countries are united,” she said, squeezing his hand, “our countries’ combined assets will help all our people.”

Our people. Armando stared at his untouched dessert, the weight of Mona’s speech pressing down upon his shoulders. With a few eloquent sentences, Mona had reminded him how much was at stake. Their engagement wasn’t just about them. It wasn’t even about protecting his family from scandal. It was about doing what was best for his people. Corinthia was counting on him to lead them to a prosperous future. To keep them safe and healthy. And now, thanks to his agreement with Omar, so were the people of Yelgiers.

Every single candle in every single window...

If he broke off the engagement, it would mean far more than some headlines and bad blood. While they might not realize it, there were people who needed his marriage to Mona to make their lives better.

How could he walk away knowing he was failing people? His people. Mona’s people. As much as he loved Rosa—and, oh, God, he did love her, more than he thought possible—he could never live with himself.

Better to settle for kisses under the mistletoe and be able to look at himself in the mirror.

He’d been right earlier. Love really did have terrible timing.

* * *

For the first time in her life, Rosa couldn’t find comfort in a chocolate dessert.

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant, too,” Darius joked. “You’ve got that same green-around-the-gills look the princess used to get when she first showed up in New York.”

No such luck, she thought, putting a hand to her stomach. If she were pregnant with Armando’s child, she would be doing cartwheels of joy. The only thing making her green was a bad case of jealousy. Brought on by seeing Mona holding Armando’s hand.

“Just indigestion,” she replied.

“I hear ya,” Darius replied. “That was a lot of food. Makes me wonder what we’re going to get at the wedding tomorrow.”

Oh, Lord, the wedding. Maybe she could claim illness and stay home. That way she wouldn’t have to face another eight hours of seeing Armando and Mona together.

The American leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “Thank goodness I’ve got till tomorrow night to digest everything. Otherwise, I might need some emergency tailoring on my tuxedo. Max would kill me. You sure it’s indigestion?” he asked at her halfhearted laugh.

“It is.” Rosa was still staring at the joined hands across the way. Whatever Mona was talking about had to be serious. Armando was frowning at his untouched plate.

“I don’t know,” Darius replied. “That prince of yours looks pretty green, too.”

“He’s not my prince,” Rosa answered reflexively. Never was, but for five minutes under the mistletoe.

Now that Darius mentioned it, though, Armando did look pale. Good. Petty as it was, she wanted him to feel as terrible as she did. She also wanted Mona to trip over her floaty train and fall on her face.

No, she didn’t. It wasn’t the Yelgierian’s fault she was beautiful and graceful and probably brilliant.

She wasn’t even angry with Armando. Not much, anyway. It had been her choice to kiss him. He’d said to stop thinking, and she did. A smarter woman would have heeded her own warnings. Then again, a smarter woman wouldn’t have fallen for Armando in the first place.

To think, she’d started dinner feeling empowered. The joke was on her. She was a bigger fool than even Fredo thought she was.

* * *

The wedding of Princess Arianna Santoro and Maxwell Brown, the newly named Conte de Corinth, went flawlessly. Not only did security keep the press away, but the bride’s former boyfriend departed that morning on a lengthy trip to the continent. With all potential drama eliminated, the result was an intimate and beautifully romantic ceremony that even the people of Corinthia seemed content to let stay private.

Armando and his father had to be pleased. A week from now, Armando would announce his engagement, the country would be plunged into wedding fervor yet again and no one would ever remember the princess’s pregnancy started before she met Max in New York.. Plus by this time next year, Mona would probably be pregnant—because she was no doubt amazingly fertile along with all her other qualities. Success all around. Long live the royal family of Corinthia.

Because it was Christmas Eve, the reception did double duty as a holiday celebration, only instead of trees, there were towers of poinsettias, each near ten feet high. People could be seen exchanging gifts by them when they weren’t dancing and enjoying the wedding festivities. Seated at a table by one of the ballroom windows, Rosa triple-checked whether the decorations included mistletoe. Given her and Armando’s recent track record with the plant, one could never be too careful.

There wasn’t any. Meaning there was no excuse for even the most casual of kisses.

She cursed the way her heart fell.

“You should be careful. I hear there’s a law in this country against outshining the bride.” Darius handed her a glass of wine before helping himself to the seat next to her.

“Little chance of that, I’m afraid. Did you see Arianna?” She nodded to where the princess and her husband were posing for a photograph. Given the circumstances, Arianna had forgone a traditional gown in favor of simple pink satin, but her happy glow made her easily the most beautiful woman in the room.

“She looks good, but you’re definitely a close second.”

Rosa rolled her eyes. “Sounds like someone’s been helping himself to the champagne.”

“Sounds like someone needs to help herself to a little more.” To prove his point, his added the remaining contents of his glass to hers. “Here, drink up,” he said, sliding the glass toward her. “It’ll make watching them a little easier.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Surely she wasn’t that transparent.

Apparently she was, because the man immediately gave her a look. “Sweetheart, I’m a New York bartender. I know how to read people. In your case, it’s not that hard. You’ve been watching the guy since last night’s main course.”

No sense pretending she didn’t know what he meant. Directly across the dance floor, Armando and Mona were talking to her father, Omar. Mona was the one dangerously close to upstaging the bride. Her strapless gown looked sewn onto her body.

She paled compared to Armando, though. Both he and his father were in full regalia for the wedding, navy blue uniforms complete with sash and sword. He looked like he belonged on a white charger.

“For crying out loud, you’re staring at him right now,” Darius said. “Damn good thing I don’t have self-esteem issues.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. I...”

“Got a thing for the guy?”

Rosa felt her cheeks burn. Quickly, she grabbed her wine and swallowed. “I’m afraid it’s complicated.”

“I know. I met her last night. What’s her deal, anyway?”

Rosa told him.

“Fiancée, huh? Then why were you two sneaking off last night? I told you, I’m observant,” he added when she gasped.