“Rose.” He put his hand over hers. “A wedding is just a single day. We have the rest of our lives to celebrate our love together.”
She looked up at him gratefully. “I promise once Linden Candy is off the ground,” she vowed, “I’ll take you somewhere romantic for a full month.”
“My wife, the business tycoon,” he teased. “I can see I’m going to have to step it up just to keep up with you.”
In the last two months, she’d rebuilt and refurbished the old factory, installing brand-new equipment. She’d hired back most of the old crew, except for one former CEO who’d flatly refused.
“I’ll only be available for meetings on the golf course, sweetie,” her father had said with a laugh, then he’d put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Rose. This is what you’ve worked for.”
She intended to get national distribution of their signature nostalgic taffies, but she also wanted to create new candy bars for a more modern palate. She grinned. She could hardly wait to get started on candy research and development. But then, she’d been craving sweets even more than usual lately.
In front of the vintage 1930s Ford decked in flowers, Xerxes pulled her into his arms. By the look in his eyes, they would barely have time to reach the airport before the honeymoon started.
With the whole town watching, he lowered his mouth to hers, searing her body with his rough embrace, until she was surprised the ladylike vintage wedding dress she’d borrowed from her mother didn’t burst into flame.
“Get a room!” her youngest brother yelled.
“Let them enjoy themselves,” one of her sisters hissed. “A honeymoon only happens once in a lifetime!”
A new voice chimed in, “Yeah, get a room!”
Blushing bashfully, Rose pulled away. She smiled at Laetitia, Xerxes’s nineteen-year-old sister, who was watching them and laughing from her wheelchair. Laetitia was in physical therapy, growing stronger every day. Just last week she’d managed to take her first steps. The doctors expected a full recovery.
Lars Växborg, however, hadn’t been so lucky. He’d apparently lost his way in the snowy wilderness near Lake Tahoe, and hadn’t been found again—until spring thaw. Rose felt bad for him. Almost.
“Throw the bouquet!” one of her old friends from high school called. “Throw it this way, Rosie!”
Turning away, Rose tossed the bouquet recklessly behind her. Whirling back around, she was shocked to see who’d caught it, but not nearly as shocked as her youngest brother Tom, a football player, who must have grabbed it by pure instinct. He stared down at the bouquet of pink roses in horror.
Rose laughed until she cried. As her new husband led her toward the limousine, she said wistfully, “I wish we could stay for the reception.”
“I wish we were already at our honeymoon,” Xerxes growled in reply. “I want to see you in that bikini.”
“I don’t know about a bikini,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “I’ve gained ten pounds since our last time in Mexico.”
“In all the right places.” As she smacked his shoulder in mock rage, he pulled back to thoroughly look at her. “I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured, and he kissed her again. When he pulled away, he gasped, “Forget the beach. We’ll just get margaritas delivered to our room.”
She took a deep breath. “I can’t.”
“Champagne, then.”
“I can’t do that, either.” With a mischievous smile, she stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear, “I’m pregnant.”
Jerking back, he stared down at her in shock. “You’re—what?”
“You’re going to be a father,” she said happily.
He gaped at her, unable to speak.
Rose’s smile faltered. “I know we talked about waiting to start a family until my company was up and running, but it just happened.” She bit her lip. “Is it all right? I mean—do you mind?”
He stared at her, then he exploded.
“Do I mind?” he yelled.
His handsome face was bright with thrilled wonder and delight. Lifting her in his arms with a whoop of joy, he swung her in her wedding dress, spinning her around and around in front of the chapel, until her white satin slippers soared into the blue sky. His joy caused the birds to fly into the air, bursting toward the sun.
And as she tumbled back into her husband’s passionate embrace, Rose knew just how they felt.
Real love in real life—that was the fairy tale. That was the promise that could never be broken.
Melanie Milburne
An avid romance reader, MELANIE MILBURNE loves writing the books that gave her so much joy as she was busy getting married to her own hero and raising a family. Now a USA TODAY bestselling author she has won several awards, including The Australian Readers’ Association most popular category/series romance in 2008 and the prestigious Romance Writers of Australia RUBY award in 2011.
To Margaret Seckold-Dodoo. My best friend from senior high school, who handed me my very first Mills & Boon to read. Margi, how can I ever thank you? You started a lifelong love of romance and a dream-come-true career. We don’t see each other often, but I will love you always!
AS SOON as Charlotte entered the boardroom she knew he had already arrived.
A shiver ran up her spine like a handful of mice making a tiny nest in the fine hairs on the back of her neck, as her eyes went to where he was standing.
As if he too sensed her presence, he turned his head and his coal-black gaze met hers for the first time in nearly four years.
Charlotte watched as he politely excused himself from one of the members of the museum board and came towards her, each one of his long strides making her throat tighten until she could barely breathe.
She had dreaded this moment for months, ever since she had heard that Damon Latousakis, the father of her little daughter Emily, was the principal sponsor for the Greek Exhibition she was helping the head curator organise for the museum.
Damon came and stood in front of her, his tall frame blocking her vision of the rest of the boardroom.
‘Hello, Charlotte.’
She tried to disguise her nerves but her voice still came out creaky. ‘H-hello, Damon.’
His dark gaze surveyed her in a leisurely manner, taking in her chestnut hair, before dipping to brush her mouth, and then lower, lingering a moment too long on the hint of cleavage her velvet evening dress exposed, before finally coming back to her blue eyes.
Charlotte felt as if he had touched her all over, the electricity passing from his body to hers making her skin prickle and the air surrounding them begin to crackle with tension.
‘You have done very well for yourself,’ he said in a tone that suggested he hadn’t expected her to. ‘Under-curator, I hear. That is quite an achievement for a petty thief, but then—as you did to me—perhaps you have everyone fooled as to what you are really like.’
Resentment simmered in the tightening