Their Christmas Royal Wedding. Nina Milne

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СКАЧАТЬ been called on to make the ultimate sacrifice: a political marriage. The diplomat in him applauded and accepted the necessity, saw that it would cement the alliance between Casavalle and Aguilarez, show the world that the Asturiases and the Valentis accepted Gabriella Ross as rightful Queen. The marriage would cancel out the insult of Meribel’s defection. The irony was not lost on him. Meribel had baulked at the last hurdle, decided she couldn’t go through with a loveless marriage for the sake of duty. So now it was Cesar’s turn to step up. So here he was, ready to attend Gabriella Ross’s Presentation Ball the following day.

      The start of Campaign Marriage.

      Because it was a campaign and he would plan it as carefully as any general had ever planned a military campaign. Obviously nowadays a royal bride and groom could not be forced into a marriage. And, as his father had pointed out, Gabriella Ross had not been brought up as royalty, might not understand or accept the convention of a marriage of political convenience. ‘So you will have to approach this carefully, Cesar. Make the girl fall in love with you,’ King Jorge had ordered.

      ‘No.’ Cesar’s reaction had been unequivocal. ‘I will not do that, Father, but I will convince Gabriella to marry me. But I ask you all—’ he’d looked around the room, at his parents and Queen Maria ‘—to leave it to me. I do not want Gabriella to be instructed or coerced or “persuaded” by any of you. We have all seen how wrong that went with Meribel. I will do things my way.’

      So it had been agreed that Queen Maria would not mention the proposed union to her sons or Gabriella. And thus began his first steps towards a ball and chain, the imprisonment of marriage.

      Dark thoughts swirled as he headed towards his car, and then he heard a whinny from the stables nearby. Another spurt of irritation huffed through him; he’d been horrified to learn that in a further ‘gesture of goodwill’ his family had gifted Gabriella two thoroughbred horses, one of whom Cesar himself was particularly fond.

      His objections had been overruled.

      No surprise there, then.

      He remembered his father’s cold, emotionless voice.

       ‘The gift was necessary. If all goes well you will own those horses with Gabriella anyway.’

      His mother, faintly exasperated.

       ‘You are irrational, Cesar. You have hardly even been to Aguilarez these past years. To claim affection for these horses is nonsensical.’

      There you had it: in the Asturias clan if something made no sense it was invalid. Emotions made no sense, hence his parents’ marriage: a cold union, that had nonetheless produced five children. They had been faithful to each other yet not once had he ever seen either offer the other a sign of intimacy or simple affection. No wonder Cesar had vowed from an early age that marriage wasn’t for him, had revelled in his bachelor lifestyle. Made sure he had enjoyed life, ensured every relationship included fun and passion in the short term. Now a similar fate to his parents’ was before him; worst of all he understood that it was necessary.

      A noise intruded on his thoughts, the soft whicker of a horse. Hell—it must be a sign. Perhaps he’d go and say hello to Ferron—nonsensical or not, he was fond of the beast. But as he entered the stables he halted, suddenly sure he wasn’t alone. There had been movement, an indrawn breath, a rustle of fabric. Swiftly he moved forward towards Ferron’s stall, saw the beautiful horse was fine. Noiselessly he moved towards the next-door stall, pushed the door open and stepped inside, all his senses on alert. Could be a saboteur, a horse thief...?

      Surely that was a figure lying in the straw. Hoping to evade detection? Swiftly he pulled his phone from his pocket, turned on the torch, held the light up and blinked; there on the straw lay one of the most beautiful women he’d seen in his life. Long chestnut hair, straight classical nose, high cheekbones. And impossible, nay, criminal, to ignore the length of her slim curvy figure, clad in jeans and oversized jumper, over...he squinted at the cuffs of her wrist...checked flannel pyjamas.

      OK, Cesar. Time to stop staring and time instead to figure out why Gabriella Ross, Crown Princess of Casavalle and his possible bride-to-be, was hiding in a bed of straw.

       CHAPTER TWO

      GABI LIFTED A hand to shield herself from the intrusive beam of light and instantly the man holding the torch redirected the rays to the floor. What to do, what to do? What on earth had possessed her to hide? Stupid, stupid, stupid. The urge to weep from sheer mortification was tempting but she refused to succumb.

      Instead she had to embark on mission impossible to try and salvage even a semblance of dignity. As she looked up at the man, he stooped and held out a hand. ‘May I help you up, Your Royal Highness?’

      Fabulous; he’d recognised her. Any forlorn hope that she could somehow pretend to be a fainting groom faded.

      ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, figuring a hand up would be more dignified than a clumsy scramble to her feet.

      His hand encircled hers, his grip cool and firm as he helped her up and then stood back. She darted a look at him, his face cast in shadows, the torch now by his side so she couldn’t see him clearly. Yet even in the gloom she registered handsome features and the bemusement that etched them. Dark short hair, strong features, firm jaw, tall, muscled body dressed in clothes that discreetly indicated expense. His dark grey woollen coat moulded broad shoulders and to her irritation she felt a sudden surge of...interest.

       Get a grip.

      This man was a stranger in the Casavalle stables; belatedly she wondered if she should be scared. Yet he looked vaguely familiar. Oh, God. Was he perhaps someone she should know? She had been introduced to so many people over the past weeks it was nearly impossible to remember them all, though she was trying.

      But surely she would remember who he was...if she’d met him before... She couldn’t imagine forgetting a man with such a potent aura.

      An aura that was messing with her head, making it whirl and think with her hormones rather than her common sense. Not the behaviour of a queen in waiting; she’d learnt that much. Think, Gabi. He was in the stables at midnight—good chance, then, that he had a reason to be here; something to do with the horses. Perhaps he’d been sent with the gift from the Asturias family, with Ferron and Arya. That would make sense. Perhaps she’d spotted him earlier in that whirlwind press photo and registered his presence. Maybe he’d come in to check on them.

      Doubt flickered in her mind—to be brutally honest he didn’t look like a groom, but she still didn’t understand the hierarchy of how the royal entourage worked. Not that it mattered. The man was connected to the horses in some capacity—she didn’t need to know any more than that. Right now what mattered was that she should stop gawping at him. Royalty did not gawp.

      ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And...um...sorry about that.’ She gestured to the straw with what she could only hope was a poised rueful smile. Knew it was more likely to be a grimace. ‘I was checking the horses. Sounds stupid but I was worried they may be a little homesick.’

      An arrested look came to his face, and his dark brown eyes flashed with empathy, surely a confirmation that this man must be connected somehow with the horses.

      He smiled at her. ‘That makes sense, or, if it does not, СКАЧАТЬ