The Royal Collection. Rebecca Winters

His footsteps followed, keeping pace with the thundering of her heart.

      She almost ran down the hallway to the bridal suite. Before she reached the doors, he caught up to her and picked her up in his arms. “Oh—” she half squealed, surprised her gown didn’t hinder him. She knew her husband was strong, but being held close to him like this made her realize what a rock-hard physique he possessed, and he smelled wonderful.

      Their faces were only inches apart. He smiled into her eyes. The blue of his irises had a depth of brilliance that ignited every pulse point in her body. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been looking forward to this all day.” He slowly lowered his mouth to hers and began kissing her.

      A burst of desire swept through her. Things were moving much faster than she’d anticipated and she found herself kissing him back with an urgency she couldn’t seem to suppress. What was happening was perfectly natural for a grown man and woman on their wedding night, but they had come to this marriage as friends from a long time ago. He’d never held her, or danced with her or kissed her, in Switzerland.

      When she could take a breath she said, “If you keep this up, our dinner will get cold.”

      “What dinner?” His gaze was focused on her mouth.

      “The one we didn’t eat. It’s waiting for us out on the terrace of our suite.”

      “Was that what you were whispering to Lindsay about?”

      She nodded.

      “I must say I’d much prefer eating with you alone up here. I like the way my wife thinks.”

      Christina was glad he felt that way, because she needed time to get used to him. A meal would give both of them a chance to unwind while they anticipated their wedding night. Now that the moment was here, she didn’t know what to do and felt so awkward she hoped he couldn’t sense it.

      * * *

      Antonio gave her another swift kiss on the lips and managed to open the door. He walked through the foyer of the semidark suite and made it as far as the bedchamber before putting her down. She eased away far enough to remove the veil and tiara.

      He knew she needed some privacy before they did anything else. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Don’t start dinner without me.”

      “I won’t. Your bags should be in the sitting room.”

      “I’ll find them.”

      Much as he was reluctant to let her go, he needed to make her more comfortable. After giving her upper arms a quick squeeze, he left the bridal chamber for the other part of the suite. Spotting his bags, he went into the bathroom down the hall to freshen up. It was a relief to discard his sash and ceremonial dress jacket. This was a brand-new experience for both of them. Tonight he wanted to do everything right for her.

      Hoping he’d given her enough time, he left the bathroom and started back to the bridal suite. He’d undone his shirt at the neck and rolled his sleeves up to the elbows.

      Against the darkened sky, the candles flickering from the terrace table bathed Christina in soft light. As she leaned over in her exquisite wedding dress to pour their wine, he noticed the glory of her midlength hair where the strands of gold gleamed among the red. It looked so thick and sleek he longed to run his hands through it.

      She must have sensed his presence and gave him a sideward glance. Again the candles flickered, turning her eyes to a shimmery silver. His bride had come to this earth with her own unique color scheme, one that resonated with him in ways he hadn’t noticed at the age of eighteen. His fifteen-year-old sister and her friend had been too young for him to appreciate the sight he was being treated to tonight.

      Between her classic features with those high cheekbones and passionate red mouth, the blood was pounding in his veins. His gaze fell lower to the feminine outline of her body in her gown. While they’d danced, she filled his arms in all the right places and was the perfect height for him.

      Her choice of wedding gown had pleased him immensely. She looked demure, but her coloring added the dash of sensuality he’d noticed the first moment he saw her in the chapel.

      Christina might not have been aware of it, but he’d watched the males in the crowd admiring her all evening long.

      For the first time he wondered how many men she’d known who’d more than admired her. Though it was a little late to question what her love life had been like prior to the actual preparations for their wedding, he couldn’t help but wonder. He felt as if he were swimming in waters over his head.

      Her eyes played over him as he moved toward her. He liked the way she was looking at him. When she reached for her wineglass, he picked up his. “This wine comes from the Brunello grapes grown in this vineyard.”

      Antonio swirled it around in his glass. “That’s very fitting. I’m sure it will be delicious. A toast to my wife, who has already made my life infinitely richer by simply agreeing to marry me. Salud!” He touched his glass to hers before they both drank some.

      She unexpectedly raised her glass again and touched his. “To my husband. You never let your sister down or betrayed her trust. Because of that you’ve won mine. To you, Antonio. Salud! You’ll make the finest king our country has ever known.”

      “If that happens, it’s because you’re at my side.” His throat swelled with emotion, making it difficult to swallow his second taste of the fruity wine.

      “Shall we sit down to eat? I’m sure you’re as ravenous as I am.” She seated herself before he could help her.

      They both tucked in to the heavenly food. She ate with an appetite. He liked that. Most women of his acquaintance ate rabbit food—whether to impress him or not—but not Christina. There was nothing fake about her. That was what impressed him.

      When she lifted her eyes to him he said, “The little speech you gave in front of the palazzo blew me away.”

      “It did?”

      “How could it not? I thought no other man could be luckier than I am to have you for my wife.”

      “I feel the same way about you.”

      “Christina—I know I’ve put you in an impossible situation.”

      “You don’t have to say anything, Antonio. I understand. That’s behind us now.”

      “No, it isn’t. Not until I tell you why.”

      She had hold of her wineglass stem, but she didn’t lift it to her lips while she waited for his explanation. Looking at her right now, he didn’t think he’d ever seen so beautiful a woman.

      “In a word, I was afraid.”

      Her delicate eyebrows frowned. “Of what?”

      “That once I was in Africa where we could really be alone, you might tell me the engagement was off and send me packing.”

      She sounded aghast and let go of the glass to put a hand to her throat. “I would never have done that to you.”

      “Then you’re a woman in a million. Who else would have sacrificed her personal happiness for the greater good of someone, something else?”

      “Our circumstances were very unusual, but I am happy.”

      He shook his head. “You don’t need to pretend with me. This is truth time. I did something terribly selfish to ask you to marry me.”

      A pained look entered her eyes. “Is this your way of telling me you wish we hadn’t gone through with the wedding?”

      “No, Christina, no—” He reached across the table and grasped both her hands. “I’m just thankful you consented to be my bride. If you’ll let me, I’d like us to start over again. Through Elena we’ve been friends for years, but you and I don’t know each other. I want to get to know all about you. What are the things you love to do?