The need to spend some time alone with her had just grown more urgent. He was concerned that the media storm surrounding the arrival of the twins would make her father consider changing his mind about letting his daughter marry Gabriel. No wedding. No biotech plant on the outskirts of Caron, Sherdana’s capital. Gabriel needed to hedge his bets with Olivia.
As long as she still wanted to marry him, everything would proceed as planned. He just needed to reassure her that marrying him was a good idea. And he knew the best way to convince a woman had nothing at all to do with logic.
Some private time should do the trick, just the two of them. A chance to present her with a small token of his affection. Thus far her engagement ring was the only jewelry he’d given her. He should have had a gift ready to present on her arrival in Sherdana, but he’d been preoccupied. And if he was honest with himself, he hadn’t been thinking of Olivia as his future bride, but as a next step in Sherdana’s economic renaissance.
“I’ll arrange for us to have a private dinner in my suite.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Olivia said, her expression unreadable. Gabriel had chosen her partly because of her composure when dealing with reporters and her public persona. Now, he wasn’t happy at not being able to read her.
Shortly after she departed, Gabriel summoned Stewart and had him reschedule his morning appointments so Gabriel could meet with his jeweler. Half an hour later, he entered the reception room where Mr. Sordi waited with two cases of sparkling gems. Despite the wide selection, Gabriel wondered if he’d have trouble selecting the perfect piece for his bride-to-be. In the end, he chose the first bracelet that caught his eye, believing the fanciful design of flowers rendered in diamonds and pink sapphires would please her.
Business concluded, he let Stewart show the jeweler out while Gabriel slipped the bracelet into his office safe. He dashed off a quick note to Olivia, inviting her to dinner, and got one of the maids to deliver it. Then he went off to his lunch meeting with his education adviser, but his thoughts were preoccupied with the evening to come.
* * *
After a short conversation with her father to assure him that she’d already known about the twins and was perfectly happy that they’d come to live with their father, Olivia went to change her clothes, but ended up standing on the stone terrace outside her room, staring at the garden below. The euphoria of those passionate moments in Gabriel’s arms were misty memories.
Olivia’s heart sank to her toes. Caught up in the romance of kissing Gabriel in the beautiful garden, she’d been on the verge of doing things in public she’d never even done in private. While on a subconscious level she’d begun to think in terms of love. In reality she was embarking on an arranged marriage.
Being told Gabriel had loved the mother of his children and being confronted by the hard truth of it were very different animals. The pictures playing across the television screen had complicated her emotions. She’d been besieged by thorny questions.
Had he been thinking of Marissa as he kissed her? Had he been wishing that the woman he’d loved wasn’t dead? Or that her ancestry had permitted them to be married? Marissa had been every man’s fantasy. Vivacious, sexy, breathtakingly beautiful. In her eyes danced promises she might or might not keep. A man could spend a lifetime wondering which way she would go. How could Olivia hope to compete?
She couldn’t.
But she wasn’t marrying Gabriel because he loved her. She was marrying him because as a princess her voice advocating for children would reach further and she could fulfill her dream of becoming a mother. Her children would be the next generation of Alessandros. Still, it hurt to see the way Gabriel had stared at the screen as his former lover’s face was shown in photo after photo. Her heart had ached at the way his expression turn to stone while his eyes looked positively battered.
Suddenly Olivia wasn’t sure she could do this. Sucking in a sharp breath, she glanced down at her engagement ring. Sunlight fell across her hand, lighting up the large center diamond like the fireworks at a centennial celebration. She’d come to Sherdana to marry a prince, not a man, but after tasting passion and realizing she wanted more, she didn’t think she could settle for marrying a man with a past that still haunted him.
A man still in love with the mother of his illegitimate twin girls.
Maybe this marriage wasn’t meant to be.
But so much was riding on it. So many people were counting on the jobs her father’s company would bring to Sherdana. And the wedding was less than a month away. She had a fitting for her dress in less than an hour. Olivia stared at the slim gold watch on her arm, her mother’s watch.
A short time later, Olivia stepped out of the car that had driven her and Libby to the small dress shop in Sherdana’s historic city center. She’d pushed aside her heavy heart, averse to dwelling on something over which she had no control. She was her father’s daughter. Raised as a pragmatist, she knew it was impractical to indulge in pretty dreams of falling in love with her prince and living happily ever after.
The shop door chimed as Olivia entered. Wide windows provided a great deal of light in the small but elegant reception room. The walls had been painted pale champagne to complement the marble floors. There was a gold damask-covered sofa flanked by matching chairs in the front room. The glass-topped coffee table held a portfolio of Noelle Dubone’s previous work. Some of her more famous clients were not featured in the book, but on the walls. Stars, models, heiresses, all wearing Noelle’s gorgeous gowns.
Almost before the door shut behind them, Noelle was on hand to greet her. The designer offered Olivia a warm smile and a firm handshake.
“Lady Darcy, how delightful to see you again.”
Noelle had a lilting Italian accent. Although Sherdana shared borders with both France and Italy, it had chosen Italian as its official national language. With her dark hair and walnut-colored eyes, Noelle’s lineage could have gone back to either country, but from earlier conversations Olivia knew the designer’s ancestry could be traced back to the 1500s. Noelle might not be one of Sherdana’s nobility, but the church kept excellent records.
“It’s good to see you, as well,” Olivia said, warming to the willowy designer all over again. Choosing to have a dress made by Noelle had been easy in so many ways. Although her London friends had counseled Olivia to go with a more famous designer and have an extravagant gown made, Olivia had decided she much preferred Noelle’s artistry. Plus Noelle was Sherdanian. It made political sense for Olivia to show her support of the country where she would soon be a princess, especially taking into consideration how hard-hit Sherdana’s economy had been in the past few years.
“I have your dress waiting in here.” Noelle showed Olivia into a dressing room.
For her more famous clients, Noelle often traveled for fittings. She would have brought the dress to the palace if Olivia had requested. But Olivia liked the shop’s cozy feel and wasn’t eager to entertain anyone’s opinion but her own.
The dress awaiting her was as beautiful as she remembered from the sketches. It had stood out among the half dozen Noelle had shown her six months ago; in fact, the rendering had taken her breath away.
With the help of Noelle’s assistants, Olivia donned the dress. Facing the three-way mirror, she stared at her reflection, and was overcome with emotion. It was perfect.
From the bodice to her thighs, the dress hugged the lean curves of her body. Just above her knees it flared into a full skirt with a short train. Made of silk organza, embroidered with feathery scrolls over white silk, the gown’s beauty lay in its play of simple lines and rich fabrics. Although Noelle had designed the dress to be strapless, Olivia had requested some sort of small sleeve and the designer had created the illusion of cap sleeves by placing two one-inch straps on either shoulder.
“What are planning to do for a veil?” Noelle asked.
“The queen is lending me the tiara she wore on