he didn’t dare. “I don’t think you have any idea how lovely you are. I want to kiss you, esposa mia. Really kiss you.” He found her trembling mouth and began to devour her. The few kisses they’d shared up to now bore little resemblance to the desire he felt for her as she responded with growing hunger.
He clasped her against him, feeling her heart thundering into his. Antonio had an almost primitive need to make love to her, but not this stand-up kind of loving. He wanted her in his bed and was so enthralled by her he moaned when she unexpectedly tore her lips from his and eased away from him.
“Christina?” He had to catch his breath. “Have I frightened you?”
“No.” She shook her head, clutching her gown to her.
He could tell she was as shocked as he was by what had just happened. He needed to reassure her. “This has been a huge day, especially for you. I’m going to let you go right now. Since we have to be up early to leave on our honeymoon, I’ll bid you buonanotte, bellissima, and make myself a bed on the couch in the sitting room.”
CHRISTINA STARED AFTER her new husband, so startled by his sudden departure she could weep. She’d been on fire for him and had been ready to go wherever he led. But in the moment that she’d tried to catch a breath, Antonio left her in a dissatisfied condition.
Was it possible a groom could have nerves like the bride? Confused over what had happened, she blew out the candles and walked to the bedroom. After stepping out of her wedding dress, she laid it over a chair with the veil on top. She put her satin slippers on the floor and placed the tiara on the dresser. They were remnants of the happiest day of her life.
She slipped on a nightgown before brushing her teeth. Then she turned out the lights and got into bed. How could she possibly sleep when her body was throbbing with needs she’d never felt before? He’d awakened a fire in her, but she hadn’t known how to handle it when he told her he’d make a bed on the couch for the night. She hadn’t had the temerity to go after him.
Sleep must have come, but she awakened early and finished her packing. Making use of the time until Antonio joined her, she’d touched up her pedicure and manicure. Her nails were done in a two-toned nude shade that matched everything and did justice to her royal antique-gold wedding band and diamond ring.
Since they’d be flying to Paris and would be the target of the paparazzi, Christina had chosen to wear an elegant-looking white two-piece suit from her new royal trousseau. The jacket with sleeves to the elbow fit at the waist. The high neck was half collared and there were pockets on the jacket as well as the skirt. She wore the brooch above the left pocket.
It was the perfect lightweight summery outfit to wear while walking around the City of Lights. Low-heeled off-white pumps and an off-white jacquard designed clutch bag with gloves completed her ensemble.
She’d worn her hair parted sideways into a high bun with one loose, hanging side longer than the other. Two white sticks for her hair with pearl tips matched her pearl stud earrings. Christina hadn’t worn perfume in Africa in order to avoid attracting insects. Back home now, she used a soap with a delicious flowery scent. Her makeup consisted of a tarte lip tint. She needed no other color.
When she was ready, she walked to the door of the sitting room and knocked. “Antonio? Our breakfast is waiting.”
“Grazie. I’ll be right out.” His deep-timbred male voice curled through her. It sounded an octave lower than usual. He must have barely awakened.
She wandered out to the terrace to wait for him. Her eyes filled with the beauty of the Tuscan countryside. The peaceful scene reminded her of a picture in a storybook where the rows of the vineyard formed perfect lines. All around it the gold and green of the landscape undulated off in the distance dotted with a farmhouse here and a red-roofed villa there.
Too bad she felt anything but peaceful inside.
All of a sudden she sensed she wasn’t alone and turned to discover a clean-shaven Antonio studying her from the doorway wearing a casual summer suit in a tan color with a cream sport shirt unbuttoned at the throat. With his olive skin and rugged features, he was so gorgeous she couldn’t believe she was married to him.
“Buongiorno, esposo mio,” she said softly.
His blue gaze roved over her body from her hair to her heels, missing nothing in between. She’d never felt him look at her that way before, as if she were truly desirable. Her legs went weak because she hadn’t expected that look after he decided not to sleep with her last night. She honestly didn’t know what to expect.
“How are you this morning?” he asked in a husky tone of voice. A small nerve throbbed at the corner of his mouth. What were his emotions after having gone to his own bed last night instead of spending it in hers?
“I’m fine, thank you. I’m excited that we’ll be walking along the Champs-Élysées later on today. Aren’t you?”
A strange smile broke the line of his mouth. “Shall we eat while we talk over our itinerary?” A question instead of an answer. Something was wrong.
He held out a chair for her. When she sat down, his hands molded to her shoulders for a moment. Warmth from his fingers coiled through her body. “As bewitching as you were to this man’s eyes last night, I find the sight of you right now even more beguiling.”
Because of the way he’d been looking at her when no one else was around, she believed he’d meant what he just said. But she hadn’t been beguiling enough to go to bed with her. She decided to accept the compliment graciously instead of throwing it back in his face.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His hands left her shoulders and he took his place across the table from her. They both started eating the rolls and fruit. After drinking some coffee he said, “How did you sleep?”
“The truth?”
“Always.”
“Probably as poorly as you. I doubt that couch was long enough to accommodate your feet.” She was glad to hear a chuckle come from him. His eyes lit up with amusement. “When everyone sees us, they’ll think we’re sleep-deprived because of a passion-filled wedding night and they’ll be happy to think that a new royal heir could be on the way already. You know that’s what’s on everyone’s mind.”
He flashed her a piercing glance through narrowed lids. “But our business is our own.”
“Of course.”
After eating another roll, he sat back in the chair. “My mother left it to my father to give me some last-minute advice.”
That didn’t surprise Christina. “What did he have to say?”
“It isn’t what they said. It’s what they did.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Read this.” He handed her a note from his suit jacket pocket.
She opened it.
Dear Antonio, your mother and I want you to have the perfect honeymoon. We know you wanted to spend a few days touring Paris and the environs before the coronation next week. But we’ve thought of something much better and it has all been arranged. All you have to do is be ready by eight in the morning. A helicopter will fly you to Genoa, where you’ll take the royal jet to a dream spot for your vacation. It’s a place neither you nor Christina has been to before. As always we remain your devoted parents.
They weren’t going to Paris?
Her pulse raced. She’d thought there would be so much to do there and they’d have time to get to know each other while seeing the sights. Just what kind of dream vacation did his parents have in mind?
To be gone for