‘You won’t, you couldn’t.’
‘When I asked you to marry me I was a fool. I thought I meant those things, those sensible reasons, the list of positives, but really I was a coward. I was too afraid to tell you what I really meant. I wanted to tell you that you were the most beautiful woman in the ballroom, that I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night, that you were my best friend and that I loved you and didn’t want to spend a single second of my life away from you. That’s what I should have said.’
Flora blinked hard, willing the tears not to fall. ‘It’s a little more convincing than storage.’
‘If I’d told you all this then, would you have said yes?’
She nodded, unable to get the words out.
‘And...’ he stepped around the counter so that he was right next to her, turning her unresisting body so that she faced him, cupping her face in his hands and looking down at her, tenderness in his eyes ‘...if I ask you now?’
Flora smiled up at him, her voice scarcely more than a whisper. ‘Why don’t you ask me and see?’
Laughter flashed in his eyes as he took her hand in his. ‘No flash mobs, no rings in ice cream, no sonnets. Just you and me, Flora. Just like it’s always been.’
She nodded, her chest so swollen with happiness she thought she might drift away.
‘Flora Prosperine Buckingham, would you do me the incredible honour of being my best friend, my companion, my lover, my confidante and my partner in adventure every day for the rest of my life?’
‘I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend my life with.’ Flora looked at him, at the ruddy, disordered curls, the freckles, the long-lashed eyes, and her heart turned over with love. ‘Of course I’ll marry you. I think I fell in love with you too, that day in the lane. You were so determined and so brave. I just wanted to make it all better.’
‘You did, you do. It just took me far too long to notice.’
‘Look.’ She pointed upwards to the beam overhead. ‘Mistletoe.’
‘I don’t need mistletoe to tell me to kiss you, not any more.’ Alex leaned forward and brushed her mouth with his. ‘Merry Christmas, Flora.’
‘Merry Christmas, Alex.’ She could finally say the words she had been holding in for so long. ‘I love you.’
He looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner. ‘We still have ninety minutes before the household’s allowed to get up. Can you think of any way to spend it?’
Flora rose onto her tiptoes and allowed herself to kiss him properly, deeply, lovingly. Her fiancé, her man, her best friend. ‘I’m sure we can think of something...’
* * * * *
Jennifer Faye
Secretly married...to a prince!
Zoe Sarris hasn’t seen Crown Prince Demetrius Castanavo since their secret elopement. So she’s shocked when he requests her interior design services. She’s only just pieced her broken heart back together, and seeing Demetrius—as gorgeous and guarded as ever—threatens to shatter it all over again...
However, the shocking news that they are actually still married changes everything. Especially when Demetrius reveals he wants his princess back...preferably in time for Christmas!
To my readers…
I am so blessed to have the most amazing readers,
some who have become dear friends.
I greatly appreciate your friendly notes, unfailing
support and daily company on social media.
Thank you.
You all are amazing!
THE PLAN WAS in motion.
Though suddenly, it didn’t sound like such a good idea.
Demetrius Castanavo, the Crown Prince of the Mirraccino Islands, shrugged off the worrisome feeling as he stepped out of the air-conditioned black limousine. Nothing was going to go wrong. He glanced at the clear blue sky, appreciating this last bit of good weather before it cooled down in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
Demetrius buttoned his charcoal-gray suit jacket, gave each sleeve a tug and then straightened his shoulders. Today he must look his best. It was imperative.
A bright camera flash momentarily blinded him.
He blinked, regaining his focus. The media coverage had begun. He restrained a sigh. Instead he lifted his chin and forced his lips into a well-practiced smile.
Demetrius, the royal playboy, was no more. His days of nonchalance and bucking the system were over. Now he was intent on becoming a proper and worthy heir to the Mirraccino throne. It was, after all, his birthright—whether he desired it or not.
And now he was about to participate in a very important interview that would help shape his new, improved public image—one he hoped would sway the residents of the Mirraccino nation to support his inevitable rise to the throne.
His gaze settled on an impressive set of steps that led to a historic mansion. At the top was an expansive landing with large, white columns amid the backdrop of blue shuttered windows. The place was a timeless beauty. He was glad they were going to save this building by revitalizing it.
There was just one snag in his well-thought-out plan—Zoe.
His estranged wife.
But that situation would be resolved soon—very soon.
The head of his security detail leaned in close and whispered, “The reporter is waiting for you on the landing, Your Royal Highness.”
Demetrius shoved the disturbing thoughts of his estranged wife to the back of his mind. He’d deal with her tomorrow. “Good. As soon as I meet with him, we have to get moving if we’re going to stay on schedule today.”
“Sir, the reporter, it’s a woman.”
“Sì. I remember now.” Demetrius needed to keep his head in this game instead of wondering how Zoe would react when she saw him again.
Demetrius swiftly climbed the steps that fanned out, covering a large area while adding to the building’s charm. He’d definitely made the right decision by insisting the all-access ramp be constructed on the side of the building, readily accessible yet not losing the building’s aesthetic appeal.
His vision was to marry the building’s beauty with functionality. They were doing well with the functionality. The beauty would be Zoe’s area of expertise. And tomorrow would be her first day on the job.
Off to the far side of the landing stood a short, slender brunette. Her makeup was a bit heavy for his tastes, but he reasoned that it must have something to do with spending so much time in front of the television cameras. Interviews were one of his least favorite tasks, but at times they were a necessity—like now.
When his advisors had unanimously agreed this was the best way for him to overhaul his scandalous youthful past, they had also assured him that agreeing to the one-on-one interview would