‘HOW DID I DO?’ Clara asked nervously as she slipped her shoes off in the entrance hall of their quarters.
Marcelo removed his jacket and bow tie, taking in the flush of colour heightening her cheeks and the glow suffusing her. But there was uncertainty mingled in the happy glow.
He thought of her dancing with Alessia. The joy on her face as she’d flapped her arms and kicked her knees back and did that chicken thing with her neck, and encouraged Alessia to join in. How the whole dance floor had ended up joining in this spontaneous mad dance, the laughter on the dancers’ and watchers’ faces alike...with the exception of Amadeo. His brother had tried to hide it but he’d been angry at this lapse in decorum when there was a press corps in attendance.
He remembered too the flash of cold anger on his brother’s face when Clara blithely brought up her expulsion.
Clara had seen that flash too. He was certain of it. He’d seen the way her features had crumpled in consternation before she’d picked herself back up again, but only to hold herself even more rigidly.
Knowing it would devastate her to think she might have caused embarrassment when she’d been so determined to be on her best behaviour for them, he put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. ‘To me, you’re perfect.’
It might not be an answer to the question she’d asked but it was a truth. And it was a truth that smoothed away the uncertainty and made her chest rise sharply. A dreamy smile lit her beautiful face as she clasped his hands and tugged him into the living room.
Skipping away from him, she put her bag on a table and pulled out her phone. A moment later, music filled the room.
It was one of the love songs she so loved to listen to.
Her eyes locked back on his and the dreamy smile returned. Stepping to him, she put a hand to his chest. ‘Dance with me.’
Putting his hands back to her hips, he slid them around her waist as her hands slid up his chest and around his neck.
Eyes locked together, they began to sway to the music.
The tune changed. Another love song came on. This one had a more sensuous vibe.
The dreamy smile had faded but its echoes rang vividly in her eyes. ‘This song makes me think of you,’ she whispered. Her thigh slipped between his.
Their lips brushed together. They continued to sway.
He untied the neck of her dress. Her hips continued to sway as he pulled the zipper down to her bottom. The dress swayed in time to the floor.
She arched her neck, inviting his kiss. And then he kissed the swell of her breasts before sliding a hand around her back to unclasp her strapless lacy bra. It was the red one he’d seen in its box when he’d still been foolish enough to think he could resist Clara’s erotic chemistry.
Her fingers skimmed over his throat to the top button of his shirt. When she’d finished unbuttoning them, she spread the shirt apart and pressed the tips of her naked breasts to his chest. Her breaths were slowing and becoming more ragged against his mouth. Desire saturated her stare.
Working simultaneously, still swaying, lips still brushing together, they undid Marcelo’s trousers and pushed them down with his remaining scraps of clothing. Clara’s knickers followed. Not breaking the connection between them, they stepped out of the discarded items. His erection jutted into her abdomen. She moaned.
He clasped her bottom and kissed her deeply. Passionately. She wound her arms around his neck and raised a thigh, rubbing herself against him.
Groaning, Marcelo lifted her into his arms and carried her to the nearest wall. Lithely, she wrapped her legs around his waist and held herself tightly to him.
Dio, he wanted so badly to be inside her, but there was a growing whisper in his head reminding him he needed to get protection...
As if she could read his thoughts, she dug her fingers into his skull and looked him deep in the eyes.
‘I want to feel everything,’ she whispered.
He stilled. Breathing heavily, he tried to read the desire-saturated eyes.
‘Make love to me, Marcelo. Be my husband for ever.’
As Clara uttered the words, a sense of rightness filled her that was as powerful as her hunger for Marcelo’s possession, and then he thrust into her and his naked possession was so all-consuming that her thoughts spilled away and all she could do was lose herself in this most glorious and heady of rides as he drove into her over and over, taking her to a peak that convulsed her entire body until he slammed into her one last time, roaring her name.
Marcelo thought he must have died and gone to heaven.
Clara was riding him. Her hands were on his shoulders, the tip of a breast in his mouth as he lavished it with the attention that always fed her arousal.
Dio, he loved her breathy moans. Loved the way she rode him with such abandon. Loved the exquisite feel of being bare inside her slick tightness... Dio, he didn’t think he could ever get enough of that feeling.
And he loved her.
He’d known it since the impulse to punch his brother in the mouth for that flash of cold anger at Clara’s mad dancing had found him clenching his fists and then avoiding him for the rest of the evening lest he give in to it.
Her moans deepened. Her fingers bit deeper into his flesh.
Dio, he loved her. He wanted her, wanted this, for the rest of his life.
She was his.
And he was hers.
Sensing Clara was nearing her peak, he gripped her hip as she threw her head back, her hair falling like a waterfall. She stiffened and ground down and then the spasms tightened around him and pulled him deeper inside her, so deep that Marcelo let himself go with the mindless abandonment he’d never allowed himself before.
Two days later, Marcelo waited until his family were seated before launching into the speech he’d mentally prepared. ‘We need to delay Clara becoming a full-time working royal. I know this will add pressure to your workloads, but I need our engagements to be closed house for the immediate future.’ His and Clara’s royal diaries were already filling with engagements. They were due to hit the ground running as soon as they returned from their honeymoon. ‘Clara and I have decided our marriage is going to be permanent, and that is why I’ve made this decision. She’s going to be a permanent member of our family and I need her to be comfortable and happy in the role she plays in it, and she’s—’
Amadeo rose from his chair, his face taut with anger. ‘Are you trying to ruin us? We can mask her inadequacies for a year but for life?’
‘If you could see past your own snobbery you’d see Clara has the potential to be the greatest asset this family ever had.’
‘Never.’
Marcelo spread his hands flat on the table and leaned forward. ‘Did you not see everyone’s reaction to her last night when she was dancing? How they responded to her? She’s a breath of fresh air. Our people will love her, but for now she needs more time and space to adjust to this life, and to learn to relax into it. I will not have her feeling that she can’t breathe when we’re working, when this is going to be her life for the rest of her life. I will not have her feeling that she’s not good enough when she is good enough. She just needs to believe it in herself.’
He was met with silence.
‘Let me make this clear. Clara is going to be one of us for good and you all need to learn to accept this if you want me to stay a part of this family.’
‘Don’t say such things,’ his mother said, visibly upset.
‘Then give me your support. Give Clara your support.’
‘Of course we’ll support—’
‘How can you ask us to support you in a marriage that might see you taking a back seat from most of your duties indefinitely?’ Amadeo demanded, interrupting their mother.
‘If the doctors hadn’t saved my life, I would have taken a back seat from all of my duties permanently,’ he reminded him icily. ‘Clara is determined to be an asset to this family. With help and support she can do it, but, and I reiterate this, it will take time. She is the only woman who will make marriage tolerable for me so if you want me to live up to your expectations and breed the next generation it will be with her or no one. Now, do I have your blessing or not?’
‘You have mine,’ Alessia said with a rueful smile. ‘And I agree with your reasoning. Anything I can do to help, just let me know. Congratulations by the way.’
One by one, the others, even a reluctant Amadeo, gave their blessings too.
‘Thank you,’ Marcelo said. ‘One last thing—I would appreciate if this discussion stays within these walls until after our honeymoon. Clara doesn’t need to know about this meeting or the reduced number of engagements. She’s had no involvement in setting them up. I will not have her hurt for anything.’
Clara couldn’t stop smiling. So utterly delicious did she feel that for the first time in possibly her whole life she wished she had a friend she could share these feelings with. Alessia couldn’t count because she didn’t think Alessia would appreciate Clara raving about what a wonderful lover her brother was and how making love to him without protection had brought a whole new closeness to them. Of course, it wasn’t the act itself as the meaning behind it, but it all merged together and represented the same thing. They’d committed themselves to each other. Their marriage would be real. They would have a family.
Oh, she could hug herself.
A real family? Her?
And soon she would have Samson and Delilah with her too. Her life really would be complete!
Needing to let the joy out, she did three cartwheels in a row. Bob, who she was currently training to walk off-lead in the field off the back of their private garden, found this very exciting and ran around in circles to show his admiration. She wondered if she should bow for the castle’s security team, who would no doubt be observing her from their monitors. Their private quarters were private and that included their garden. Everything else was under surveillance.
Marcelo was worth the intrusion she one day hoped to become used to.
Her phone beeped. Indicating first for Bob to sit, she pulled it out of her back pocket. Her good mood plummeted.
It was her brother. How he had her new number she didn’t know and figured it was probably best she never did know as she might have to kill the person who’d given it to him.
Gritting her teeth, she read:
Hope the wedding preparations are going well. Wondering if you can check with the organisers as my invitation seems to have got lost in the post. Alison and Johan have received theirs and are en route to Europe.
Oh, that cheered her right up. Alison was her mother’s sister, the aunt who lived in Australia. She imagined Alison and Johan’s delight in confirming to Andrew that they’d received the golden ticket he so obviously craved.
What an arrogant plonker that man was. To think she’d once longed for his approval! She didn’t need his approval any more. She didn’t need or want anything from him. If she didn’t have Marcelo and his family’s reputation to think of, she’d sell her story to the press and shame Andrew to the whole world. Still, this was just as good a shaming incident. No way the British press would let Andrew Sinclair’s failure to attend the wedding of the year go unreported.
Striding back to the castle, eager to share the message with Marcelo, she fired a message back that lifted her mood even more.
Oh, dear, that is a shame. Why don’t you ask your good friend King Pig if you can be his plus one as I hear he’s struggling to find a victim to take with him? Actually, no, scrap that as I think his invitation got lost in the post as well. Amazing how karma strikes, isn’t it? Hope Florence and the kids are all well. Please tell her that if she ever sees sense and dumps your sorry ass, she’ll be welcome here with open arms.
She pressed send as she stepped into the boot room and then blocked her brother’s number so she never had to deal with him again.
Feeling lighter in her heart than she’d done in years, Clara removed her boots and wandered through their utility room. She gave a cheery good morning to one of the maids, and was about to head to Marcelo’s offices, where he was tied up in meetings, when she spotted the tall man sat reading a newspaper at the round corner table in the living room.
‘Hello,’ she said, surprised to see Amadeo. ‘Are you waiting for Marcelo? He’s in meetings with—’
‘I have just left him,’ he said, cutting her off and rising to his feet with stiff awkwardness. ‘I am here to see you. Please, take a seat.’
The maid poured them both a coffee before Amadeo dismissed her with an impervious flick of his head.
‘Clara...’ Amadeo sighed. ‘It will make it easier for both of us if I can speak freely.’
‘I appreciate honesty, so go ahead.’
He nodded. ‘I thought as much. Before I go any further, I want you to know that none of this is personal. I have no wish to hurt your feelings, but I am concerned your behaviour could bring harm to my family.’
An icy shard sliced through her chest. ‘Is this about my dancing?’
‘You didn’t just dance the funky chicken or whatever it’s called the other night,’ he continued with a touch of disdain. ‘You told the world that you were expelled from school.’
‘I didn’t tell the world. I told the people in our group.’
‘All of whom have few scruples when it comes to sharing gossip. Which is what your expulsion now is. Gossip. It won’t be long until the press hear about it. They might already know—enough of them were in attendance that night.’
‘Photojournalists,’ she felt compelled to remind him.
‘The clue is in the journalist part. Have no illusions, they will hear about it and when they do it will be open season. We have no control over what the press chooses to print or what our people think. What concerns me is that you’re a loose cannon who will unwittingly give the press even more fodder.’
She lifted her chin defiantly. ‘I have nothing to hide.’
‘We all have things we wish to keep private.’
‘I don’t. In any case, they would have heard about the expulsion at some point.’
‘Possibly. The fact is, we’ll never know because you kindly fed it to them yourself.’
‘Do you want to cancel the wedding?’ she asked bluntly over the ice now infecting her entire body.
‘It’s too late for that,’ he replied with equal bluntness. ‘And as it is going to be very difficult for everyone if we have to spend the next year doing damage limitation whenever you’re incapable of knowing when not to speak, we’ve agreed that all your future engagements will be of the closed-house kind like the one you attended at the embassy, and all other scheduled engagements are to be given to other members of the family. This will leave you with very few engagements and so greatly reduce the potential risks for embarrassment.’
Cheeks burning with humiliation, Clara looked him straight in the eye. ‘This doesn’t just concern me, it concerns Marcelo. Have you spoken to him about this?’
‘These measures are his idea.’
Her stomach plunged like she’d fallen through a trapdoor. ‘You what?’
‘He called a family conference about it earlier.’
Bile filled her throat again and smothered her taste buds. She had no idea how she was able to talk through it. ‘And did he agree to you being the one to tell me?’
‘No. He requested you not be told.’
‘So why are you telling me?’
‘Upon reflection, I decided you deserved to know. Walls have ears, even castle walls—I didn’t want you to hear about it through exaggerated whispers. I thought it best to talk directly to you so you understand why we are taking these measures and to reiterate that this isn’t personal.’
She jutted her chin. ‘It feels personal.’
He raised a shoulder in apology. ‘We are indebted to you for agreeing to marry Marcelo and sparing us a diplomatic war with Monte Cleure, but you yourself observed early on that you’re not princess material.’
Taking a deep breath, she looked him straight in the eye. ‘Then you must be relieved I’m only going to be a part of your family for a year.’
It was the flicker in his eye that gave him away and, in one fell swoop, everything became clear.
Amadeo had sought her out not to chastise her but to warn her off his brother. He didn’t want her to be a permanent member of his family. This was his way of telling her she had to stick to the one year of marriage as had been originally agreed.
Rising to his feet, he said, ‘We are indebted to you, Clara, and we want your year with us to be as happy and as comfortable as it can.’
‘As long as it’s far from the public eye and only for one year?’
He gave a faint smile. ‘Marcelo said you had a quick brain. I thank you for your understanding.’
She waited until he was about to leave the room before calling his name. ‘Amadeo?’
He turned back to her.
She summoned her brightest smile. ‘Has anyone ever told you that you’re a pompous ass?’
Marcelo swam harder than he’d ever swum before. Length after length he drove his body, determined to work the guilt out before he returned to his quarters.
By the time he’d exhausted himself, his mind was clearer.
There was no need for guilt.
He wasn’t lying to Clara by keeping the family conference from her. Their wedding was five days away and she was fizzing with excitement for it and their subsequent honeymoon. Why dampen her spirits and hurt her feelings? She’d put in so much hard work that he didn’t want her feeling like she’d failed.
He found her in the garden training Bob to walk to heel under the shade of the cherry blossom trees.
‘I thought you were going to do that earlier?’ he said, striding to her.
She smiled then looked down at the growing puppy. ‘We did do it earlier, didn’t we, Bob, but we got distracted.’
‘By what?’
‘A text message from my brother. He asked where his invitation to our wedding was. In far more many words, I told him to do one. How’s your morning been?’
‘Boring. How did your brother get your number?’
‘Who knows?’ She tapped her thigh and Bob stopped at her ankle. Feeding him a tiny piece of a treat, she casually said, ‘So, what boring things did you discuss at your meetings?’
‘Nothing important. Just the usual staff meetings.’
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Marcelo knew he’d made a mistake.