Society Secrets: The Royal Baby Revelation / Back in the Headlines / A Scandal, a Secret, a Baby

But although Ben was a valid enough reason for this marriage—she was doing it for someone else too. For herself. For the stupid craving and yearning part of her which had never stopped loving this man and wanting to know him better. Hoping that once he had slipped the wedding band on her finger he might allow her to see beneath the formidable exterior he presented to the world. Would it be possible to chip away at the ice and maybe rediscover the warmth of the man she had once known? Would he give her that chance? Or had that man disappeared altogether—leaving nothing but this beautiful yet icy shell which stood before her now in his uniform?

‘Why alone?’ she breathed. ‘Are you having…second thoughts?’

‘Are you?’

‘No.’ She searched his face for a glimmer of affection—some kind of regard—but all she could see was a telltale darkening at the depths of the amber eyes. ‘I…I am prepared to go through with it. I want to be a good wife.’

‘How dutiful you sound, Melissa.’

‘Well, isn’t this all about duty?’ she questioned quietly. ‘Yours to your country and mine to my son?’

Her logic took his breath away, for it was a quality he looked for in his advisors but had not expected from her. Hadn’t he expected—and wanted—some kind of soft and melting acquiescence? A very feminine capitulation to the allure of wealth and high office he was offering her and which might have made her show a little more gratitude?

But no. There was nothing soft or melting about Melissa Maguire today. She looked, he thought—like some sort of ice-Queen.

Advised by his aides that a white wedding would be highly inappropriate in the circumstances, instead she wore a muted suit of beaten silver—the colour of some untouched glacier. Mahogany hair had been piled into an intricate confection on top of her head and left unadorned—for she would be crowned during the wedding ceremony itself.

Yet it was her face which startled him. The green eyes were edged in black and her lips gleamed a faint rose-pink colour. A professional make-up artist had been presented with the raw material of this unrefined woman from a small town in England—and a sleek, almost unrecognisable beauty had emerged.

He thought how well she had dealt with the press—doing nothing other than smiling in just about every shot he had seen of her. That and holding their son tightly—who had also looked particularly angelic, even if Melissa had stubbornly refused to have his hair trimmed before the press call.

The photographers had demanded that the couple kiss and then that Casimiro lift up his son—but he had refused both requests. How the hell could he act like a father for the cameras when he didn’t feel remotely like a father inside? Or, indeed, a loving bridegroom.

What he did feel like was a frustrated lover and now he ran his eyes over the slim lines of her silver-clothed body.

‘Very beautiful,’ he repeated silkily. ‘Thank you.’

‘A dutiful response, too,’ he mocked.

‘To a dutiful comment,’ she retorted, because if she was to be his Queen then she would learn her lessons well. And what was the accusation he had hurled at her in the restaurant? The one that had stuck? Oh, yes. Must you show your emotions so openly? Well, that was a mistake she would not be making again in a hurry. She would be his cool and collected consort. She would make him proud that she was his Queen.

‘But I meant it,’ he said softly. ‘Though I think you would be more beautiful still if you were stripped naked and lying in my bed right now.’

Melissa felt the quickening of her heart. Perhaps if tender words of affection had preceded it, then she might have just taken this as an erotic declaration from her very virile groom. But there had been no tenderness—and so his comment came out sounding like a boast of arrogant possession. Like a man who’d just bought a new sports car and was longing to try it out.

‘We’ll have our honeymoon for all that,’ she said, and then bit her lip. ‘I do hope Ben will be okay while we’re gone.’

‘Of course he will. He’ll be with your aunt. And it’s only for one night, Melissa—surely that doesn’t fall into the category of child neglect.’

‘Yes, I know. I know. But all this…’ She waved a satin-clad arm to encompass all the jewelled splendour of her dressing room and then shrugged her shoulders in what felt like a gesture of defeat. ‘Well, it isn’t really what he’s used to.’

He was tempted to say that it was a big improvement on what Ben was used to, but even he could see that wasn’t the most diplomatic observation to make moments before they made their wedding vows. ‘You’ve left him before, haven’t you?’ His eyes sparked out a challenge. ‘You had no qualms about leaving him behind when you came to help with the catering at the ball.’

Reluctantly, Melissa nodded. ‘Yes, I know.’

‘And you look scared,’ he observed softly. ‘What’s the matter, Melissa—scared to be alone with me?’

She tried to blank the mockery in his golden eyes but she could do nothing about the scudding of her heart. ‘No. Of course not.’

But that wasn’t strictly true. She was scared—of her own feelings and wondering how she would be able to keep them under control, especially when they were having sex. And what about when they weren’t being intimate? What did you do on your honeymoon with a man who was little more than a stranger?

The wedding passed in a blur. It felt a bit like one of those dreams where you found yourself in a place you shouldn’t be. According to tradition, Casimiro did not have a best man but two ‘supporters’ who were Xaviero, naturally—and Orso, his aide who had been with him since both men had been teenagers.

Melissa herself had no bridesmaid nor matron of honour—even though several of her school friends would have leapt at the chance. But her solo walk down the aisle somehow reinforced the rather low-key aspect of the ceremony. And as Catherine confided—‘They seem to make a habit of having low-key weddings on Zaffirinthos!’

The golden-haired Princess sat next to Aunt Mary during the service, with both women trying to contain the squirming of Ben and Cosimo, who were both grabbing at each other’s hair.

It was slightly scary when the jewel-encrusted crown was placed on Melissa’s head and although she had practised using a weighted headpiece before the ceremony, she was still taken aback by the heaviness of the historic coronet. It was so weighty that she had to keep her head at a certain angle for fear that her head would tip to one side, as if she were drunk.

But despite all the uncertainties which danced like ghosts on the periphery of her mind, Melissa couldn’t help but feel a great swell of pride as Casimiro slid the ring on her finger.

I’m doing this for Ben, she told herself fiercely. He and Casimiro will learn to love each other—for how could they not? Who could fail to love the mop-headed and beautiful boy they’d formed between them? And maybe afterwards…wasn’t there a chance that something might grow between her and Casimiro, too? If not love, then surely some kind of workable relationship.

To the celebratory peal of bells which rang out from the huge cathedral at Ghalazamba. Melissa could see the blur of faces of all the people packed into the square—and the realisation that they were calling out her name was a daunting one. But also an exhilarating one.

After picking at the lavish wedding breakfast, Melissa went to change from her wedding clothes. They were spending their honeymoon on the eastern side of the islands, at one of the vast estates owned by the royal family.

‘Pine-clad mountains and clear turquoise seas,’ murmured Casimiro as he twisted the ignition on the Range Rover he was driving himself. He shot her a glance as she clicked in her seat belt, noticing the set expression on her pale face and the seductive curve of her breasts outlined against her dress. His voice dipped with unmistakable longing. ‘And our first opportunity for intimacy after that erotic incident on the sofa.’

‘I’m…I’m…’ Whatever she had been about to say temporarily disappeared from her mind because he had placed his hand over her bare knee. ‘Casimiro!’

‘What?’ Leaning across, he brushed his mouth against hers and could feel the responding shiver in her body as he briefly slid his fingers over the silken skin of her inner thigh. ‘Don’t you like it? Mmm? Ah! Grazie al cielo! I can see that you do like it.’

Melissa closed her eyes as the most delicious feeling began to flood through her veins. She swallowed. ‘I…I thought that your security people were following us.’

‘They’re your security as well from now on, mia bella. But there are blacked-out windows in this vehicle for a reason and that is to prevent prying eyes from peering in.’

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