Modern Romance March 2020 Books 5-8

That same sense of yearning filled her now as then, but for what, she didn’t know.

Was it the sense of wanting something…more?

Ellie reached for the croissant nestling in a silver basket as they breakfasted on their balcony. Below, the yachts moored in the marina were crowded together, mirroring the built-up coastline of this ultra-expensive principality. They were due to attend a reception at the candy-box-pink stucco palace that evening, and Ellie was glad of the invitation for Leon’s sake.

But her face shadowed. Being here in Monaco could only be a painful reminder to her of all that her own family had lost for ever.

For a second she was blind to the azure Mediterranean, dazzling beyond the marina—in her mind’s eye she saw the snow-capped mountains of Karylya, its verdant forests and lush meadows, the graceful white and gold rococo palace she would never see again. Nor would any of her family…

Had her throat caught? Perhaps it had, for Leon was talking to her, concern in his voice.

‘Ellie, what is it?’

She blinked, and the vision of her homeland was gone—but not her yearning for it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I was thinking of Karylya…that I’ll never see it again. Thinking of my father…’

She swallowed, her fingers tearing absently at the croissant. She had neglected her parents, she knew, in the months since her wedding, caught up in the hectic social whirl Leon had swept her into. Her mother she felt less bad about—Malcom had taken her to New Zealand and the South Seas, to mix filming with an extended holiday. But her father was having to face his unwelcome new life in exile, in a new home, a new country. And her stepmother and siblings, too—their lives changed just as radically.

On impulse, she spoke. ‘Leon—do you think…? Could we visit him?’

Maybe it would do her good—not just to see her father and her half-siblings again, but to take a pause in the social whirl that she and Leon lived in. Take her mind away from that disquieting sense of yearning that hovered about her for the unknown ‘more’ she could give no name to.

Would give no name to.

She blinked, surfacing from her introspection, and realised that Leon had not answered immediately. That his expression had shuttered.

She swallowed, wishing she had not mentioned it. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. You don’t want to.’

He gave a shrug of one shoulder. ‘Of course we can visit if you want,’ he said, but there was a terseness in his voice that she did not miss.

Leon had heard it himself, but did not soften it. He had no wish to see her father again—a man who had been happy to see his daughter marry a complete stranger rather than face poverty for himself. His thoughts darkened. He knew all about fathers who put their own interests above their children’s…

‘Thank you,’ she said awkwardly. ‘It’s just that I know from Marika’s texts that my stepmother is expecting a formal visit from us at some point. And Marika—’ She broke off, clearly thinking there was no point in telling Leon she was worried about her sister.

Her eyes were still on him, though.

He had been browsing through glossy yacht brochures, ready to consult the agent that morning about which to hire, but now he set them aside.

‘We’ll do this another time,’ he said. ‘Let’s visit your father first.’

He did not add, And get it over with—that would have been too harsh, and she did not deserve it.

His gaze softened. No, his beautiful princess bride deserved only the best! The best he could bestow upon her!

For an instant, memory thrust at him. His father, presenting his mother with a top fashion label silk scarf, sapphire earrings, a pair of her favourite designer shoes… All with a flourish and a flurry of extravagant declarations of love and devotion. His mother had clapped her hands in excitement and pleasure, telling him he was the most wonderful man in the world, and how she adored him—how he was her whole life…

He slammed the door of memory shut.

He would not allow the past to poison the present.

The present was so very, very good.

His expression softened again. Desire started to rise within him as his gaze rested on Ellie’s sunlit face, on a flake of her croissant caught on her lower lip. He reached across the table to brush it off with his thumb, then glided his thumb along the delicate inner surface of her mouth, his eyelids drooping.

He saw her pupils flare, and smiled. His voice was husky with growing arousal. ‘Come back to bed…’

He drew her to her feet, and took her there…yielding to the flame of their desire.

All that he wanted…

CHAPTER ELEVEN

LEON’S FACE WAS set as he drove up the poplar-lined avenue leading to the elegant château in the heart of the Loire. He was not looking forward to this visit, and the moment the former Grand Duke and Duchess greeted them, with as much ceremony as if they were still on the throne of Karylya, his mood worsened.

Stilted conversation took place as the royal couple led the way out on to a shaded terrace, where they were served drinks.

‘Marika and Niki are playing tennis,’ the Grand Duchess informed them. She glanced at Leon. ‘The court needed completely resurfacing, alas, and there has, of course, been a great deal of other work required to make everything…’ she hesitated briefly ‘…suitable.’

There was the trace of a sigh in her voice, and Leon found himself bristling. No doubt she was thinking of the palace in Karylya, and all the other royal residences that she no longer possessed now she was reduced to a single château.

Paid for by me.

He cut the thought short. The money he’d spent on them—was still spending—had brought him Ellie. Was he going to complain about that? Of course not!

His eyes went to her as she said hurriedly, ‘And you’ve made it all absolutely beautiful!’

Her stepmother smiled her gracious smile. ‘We’ve worked extremely hard,’ she murmured.

Leon said nothing. He doubted the Grand Duchess had done so much as lift a paint pot with her own fair hands…

‘Indeed,’ her husband was corroborating her story. ‘For myself, I have been starting a library here.’

‘Papa had a wonderful library at home—’ Ellie said.

But she broke off, conscious that she had said what she should not have, for her father’s face was stiffening at the mention of all that he had lost.

She felt her expression tighten. They should not have come here. From the moment of their arrival she had been conscious of it. Leon was clearly steeling himself, and as for herself…

She glanced up at the château. Her father’s home in exile. Thanks to Leon. Only thanks to Leon.

She felt her stomach knotting. Without Leon her father and his family would be homeless, penniless.

He’s paying for all this—paying for all of them!

Just as he’d agreed he would when she’d agreed to marry him…

She’d known it—of course she had—but somehow being here, seeing her father and stepmother here, living at Leon’s expense, settled here for the rest of their lives on his largesse, made her…uncomfortable. Ultra-conscious of the reasons behind her marriage. To give her father a secure home in exile—to give Leon a princess bride.

It was what their marriage had always been about—yet somehow, in the dizzying rush of passion and desire for Leon that had consumed her since their honeymoon, it had been so easy to forget it…so temptingly easy to forget the blunt truth of her marriage.

My title for his wealth.

A heaviness filled her, weighing her down. She heard Leon’s voice in her memory, when they’d discussed their wedding preparations.

‘Do you intend always to be this blunt about our marriage?’ he had demanded.

And her answer—‘It’s a pretty blunt situation.’

But in the months since then, even though she’d felt the heaviness press at her again, she had done her best to forget that. Ignore it.

Deny it.

Deny it because she wanted to deny it! Had wanted to deny it, she knew now, with bitter self-awareness, ever since Leon had swept her off to his bed…

Because the bluntness of the truth about their marriage did not sit well with the bliss she had found in Leon’s arms. It made a mockery of it.

A shout from the gardens below the terrace pierced her sudden bleakness.

‘Lisi! You’re here! Brilliant!’

A moment later her brother vaulted over the balustrade, his tennis racket clattering on to the stone terrace. Then he was wrapping her in an exuberant bear hug before clapping Leon on the back.

‘Great to see you both!’ he exclaimed, grabbing a glass of orange juice and knocking it back as Marika made a more sedate entrance than her brother, coming up to hug Ellie.

The arrival of her half-siblings was a welcome release from the disquieting thoughts gripping her in such unwelcome fashion. But when Marika exclaimed expressively, her eyes speaking volumes, ‘I’m so glad you’re here!’ Ellie had a different reason for disquiet.

There was a febrile quality to her sister she had not seen before—an air of suppressed excitement…of secretiveness…

But then Niki was targeting Leon, enthusiastically grilling him on the performance characteristics of his car, blatantly asking to take it out for a spin, promising—with a laugh—not to crash it. His exuberance lightened the atmosphere, and Ellie was glad. Gladder, too, when Niki turned to her.

‘I need to celebrate!’ He grinned insouciantly. ‘I got my exam results through today, Lisi…’

Ellie’s face lit and she was immediately diverted from the bleak thoughts in her head, grateful to be so. ‘Oh, Niki—did you make your Oxford offer?’

He tilted his glass at her. ‘Indeed I did,’ he said.

‘That’s wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘Congratulations!’ She turned to Leon. ‘Niki’s the brains in this family,’ she said fondly.

‘What are you going to be reading?’ Leon asked.

And Ellie knew that, despite wishing he was not here, it was impossible for Leon to dislike her brother—his cheerful exuberance was a world away from the Grand Duke’s chill formality.

‘PPE,’ he answered. ‘Politics, Philosophy and Economics. Though it’s the first and the last I’ll be most focussed on. I’ll need to be if I’m to—’

He broke off, his expression changing. He looked Leon in the eye.

‘It’s you I have to thank, and I am fully aware of it.’ Suddenly he wasn’t an exuberant teenager any more, but serious-faced, older than his years. ‘The international student fees at Oxford are sky-high, and there’s no way I could take up my place without your generosity.’

Ellie could see her father’s expression stiffen at his son’s blunt reminder of their dependence on his daughter’s husband, and she felt herself stiffen, too. But Leon was simply nodding, telling Niki he could thank him by getting a first.

It was thanks to Niki that the evening was not the ordeal it would have been otherwise. His good-humoured remarks lightened the stolid conversation conducted by her father and stepmother, which centred mostly on the history of the château. Even so, it was heavy going, with Leon visibly unrelaxed, and Marika still with that distracted, febrile look about her.

Ellie was filled with unease. Her sister’s parents seemed oblivious to it—but not Niki. From time to time Ellie distinctly saw him glancing at her…almost conspiratorially. She frowned inwardly. Something was going on, and she wasn’t sure what. Antal, she assumed, with another silent sigh.

Her heart went out to her sister, pitying her. To love so hopelessly…how agonising must that be…?

She pulled her thoughts away. She had her own issues to deal with. She was wishing she had not come here. Yet knew it was good that she had.

No, not good—necessary.

Her face set. Yes, necessary to remind herself of just what her marriage was based on. Uncomfortable truth though it was. And it was time—more than time—that she acknowledged it…and not just to herself.

The long evening finally ended and, having drunk a dutiful demi-tasse of coffee from delicately translucent Sevres porcelain, in the exquisitely redecorated drawing room—all paid for by Leon—Ellie glanced at the antique ormolu clock on the marble mantelpiece—also paid for by Leon.

Marika and Niki had retired to a distant sofa and were absorbed in their phones—paid for by Leon—every now and then showing each other something on the screens, but saying nothing, which added to her unease.

Finally she felt she could get to her feet and bid her father and stepmother goodnight. Leon immediately did likewise, with barely disguised impatience, and she felt her face set again.

As they gained their apartments—just as beautifully decorated as the rest of the château, and all paid for by Leon—she turned to him.

‘Leon, I’m sorry I dragged you here—but thank you for bringing me.’ She swallowed, knowing she had to say this, to acknowledge it openly. ‘And thank you…thank you for making all this possible.’ Her arm swept around, encompassing the château and all that went with it. She took a breath, looking him square in the eyes, ‘I am extremely appreciative of it.’

He was looking at her, a strange expression on his face. Frowning slightly.

‘What’s brought this on?’ he posed.

Ellie’s chin lifted. ‘Just being here, Leon. Seeing it all for myself. What…what you’ve done for my family.’ She swallowed again. ‘And I’m glad Niki thanked you, too, for paying his uni fees.’

Leon started to shrug off his dinner jacket. ‘He’s OK, your brother. Unlike—’ He stopped.

Ellie bit her lip, but tacitly acknowledged what Leon had not said. The ex-Grand Duke might be taking his luxurious exile for granted, but at least his son was aware of it.

‘Niki is so different from my father,’ she said awkwardly. ‘He has a much more open nature—like our grandfather, Grand Duke Nikolai.’ Her expression changed. ‘I think it will help him, you know, now that he has to make his own way in the world and will be forced to make a future for himself outside Karylya, having had his life smashed to pieces. Everything he thought was stable has gone. The future he took for granted has simply…disappeared.’

She saw Leon’s face tighten. Too late she remembered what he had said about his own youth—how the safe, secure world he’d grown up in had been ripped from him in the cataclysm of Greece’s economic collapse. And how his father had abandoned him…

Hurriedly, she went on, sounding awkward again. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to compare my brother’s situation to yours—you were younger, even!—and I am truly, truly grateful to you for making it possible for him to go to Oxford. I’m incredibly grateful for everything, Leon—everything you’re doing for my family!’

His expression changed, softened. He disposed of his jacket, walked up to her. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Warm through the thin silk of her gown. Holding her there.

‘Stop,’ he said. ‘You don’t have to say it. You don’t have to thank me. It was what we agreed. Your father and his family get financial security and in exchange I…’ his hands moulded her shoulders in a sensual gesture…possessive ‘…I get my princess bride.’ His eyelids drooped. ‘My incredibly beautiful, desirable, alluring and irresistible princess bride…’

With each word his voice grew more husky, his gaze washing over her.

‘My irresistible princess bride,’ he said again, his voice more husky still, ‘whom I don’t intend to resist a single moment longer after the most tediously long evening ever.’

Leon slid his hands languorously from her shoulders down her arms, to move around her pliant waist and draw her against him. He didn’t like to see that troubled look in her eyes. He wanted to banish it. Banish it the swiftest way possible. The way he liked best—

He brushed Ellie’s soft mouth with his, feeling his mood improve even as his desire quickened. His kiss deepened.

This—this was what he wanted! Ellie in his arms—his princess bride.

With effortless ease he swept her up to him, carrying her towards their waiting bed…

‘Niki?’

Ellie’s voice was tentative, but she knew she needed to speak to him before she and Leon left the château that morning, and she was glad to find him on his own.

‘Mmm?’

Her brother did not look up from his phone and she realised he was looking at a Karylyan newsfeed. She frowned. She was aware that the much-vaunted presidential elections that the council which had ousted her father had promised the population were fast approaching, but she had done her best not to pay attention to it. What point would there be? No one was going to vote to recall her father. Karylya would become a republic, with a president and not a grand duke, and that would be that.

She sighed, before saying as much to her brother. ‘Niki, it will only upset you to follow the elections. They don’t want us back and that’s all there is to it. History has moved on. We have to accept it.’ She paused. ‘You have to accept it.’

Her brother’s face closed. ‘Of course I accept it,’ he said, his voice offhand. He gave a nonchalant, teenage-style shrug. ‘Morbid curiosity, that’s all.’

He tossed his phone on to the cushion of the chair he’d been sitting in and got to his feet. His expression lightened.

‘So, sis, how’s it all going with you and Leon? The celebrity rags are full of you! Is that what you intend to do with the rest of your life now? Non-stop jollies? Wall-to-wall parties?’

His words were light-hearted, but Ellie coloured.

‘It’s what Leon wants,’ she said. She looked her brother square in the face. ‘And, considering everything he’s doing for our family, Niki, it’s the least I can do!’

Niki sighed. ‘If you put it that way…’ he allowed.

Ellie’s face tightened. What other way could it be put? Coming here to the château, seeing the reality of her father’s situation, had made it impossible to hide from that.

Hadn’t Leon spelt it out to her last night, before sweeping her up into his arms? Spelt it out as bluntly as she once had. He wanted a princess bride to show off—she wanted financial security for her penniless father.

Oh, Leon might tell her that he would never have married her without desiring her—or her desiring him—but that didn’t take away the blunt underlying reason for their marriage.

He wouldn’t have married me if I weren’t a princess.

And she—she felt a hollowing inside her—she would not have married him had he not been rich enough to support her father and his family.

Her eyes shadowed. Before her marriage she had talked to her mother about her obligations and responsibilities as the princess she was—Princess Elizsaveta of Karylya—and she was still bound by them. Would always be bound by them. Whatever they cost her…

More than I dare allow.

Restlessly, she moved about the room, forcing aside her darkening thoughts. She could not pay them attention now. There would be time enough later… For now—right now—she had to seize this brief opportunity to speak to her brother about their sister. It would not easily come again.

‘Niki, I’m worried about Marika,’ she said roundly. ‘Can’t you help me convince her that she has to give up on Antal Horvath? Nothing can come of it! You know that as well as I do!’

Abruptly, her brother’s expression changed. ‘She’ll be OK,’ he said impatiently. ‘Don’t stress out over it!’

Ellie frowned. That had sounded like a typical off-hand remark any teenager might make, but she had heard an evasive note in it.

‘Is she still in touch with him?’ she pursued.

She saw that evasive blankness come over Niki’s face again.

‘How should I know?’ He shrugged. He reached for his phone again, obviously wanting this interrogation to cease.

Ellie opened her mouth to challenge him, but her stepmother was coming into the room.

‘Your father tells me you are leaving after lunch!’ she announced, displeasure in her voice. ‘This has been far too brief a visit, Elizsaveta!’

Ellie was apologetic—what else could she be?—and made mention of the social engagement she and Leon were committed to in Paris.

‘Well, next time you must arrange to stay longer.’ The Grand Duchess’s tone was reprimanding. ‘You have responsibilities to your father—do not forget that. You cannot spend your life perpetually flitting from one party to another!’

Ellie tensed. The fact that her stepmother had echoed her brother’s criticism galled her. But she said nothing. For her father and stepmother, as for all the world, her marriage to Leon was a coup de foudre romance—how could she hurt them by slamming home the unvarnished truth?

But that unvarnished truth—the truth that she had become so dangerously neglectful of in the blissful weeks and months she’d spent with Leon—was something she must never let herself forget again.

She sighed inwardly as they drove off from the château later that day—Leon with a palpable air of relief—heading for that glittering social event in Paris where, yet again, she would arrive en grande tenue: Princess Elizsaveta of Karylya, dazzling Parisian high society with her beauty, her couture gown and the priceless jewels bestowed upon her by her impossibly handsome billionaire husband.

They would resume the endless social whirl he loved to enjoy with her at his side and she knew, with a sudden clenching of that emotion she would not name, that in such a marriage as theirs there could only be what they already had.

Friendship and desire.

What else could be between them?

However much she might long for there to be more—much, much more…

CHAPTER TWELVE

‘WELL, I THINK that went off all right, don’t you?’

There was a satisfied note in Leon’s voice as he spoke, dropping his cufflinks on the vanity unit in their penthouse suite at the Viscari Roma, with its sweeping views over the ancient city.

‘It was certainly a good turnout,’ Ellie agreed, making her voice equable as she disengaged herself from her emerald necklace.

She felt a combination of being exhausted and strung-out. But she didn’t want to let it show—it would spoil Leon’s ebullient good mood.

They had hosted a party that evening, to repay all the invitations they had accepted since their wedding. It had been held in the hotel’s banqueting suite—a glittering, opulent affair, no expense spared, that Ellie had thrown herself into organising with a determination that had been almost a frenzy, as if she were proving something to herself, to Leon. She had spared no effort to make it as dazzlingly brilliant as he could want and they themselves had been at the heart of it—Leon Dukaris, billionaire, and Princess Elizsaveta of Karylya, his royal bride, adorned in yet another priceless gown and draped with yet more priceless jewels.

As they’d received their guests, memory had plucked at her—their spectacular betrothal ball, where Leon had first kissed her…

How far I have come since then!