Modern Romance November 2015 Books 1-4. Trish Morey
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been beyond anything he’d ever experienced. He hadn’t wanted to connect with anyone like this in longer than he could remember.
But Zara...he took joy in caring for her. Giving to her. That was new too. Wanting to give to someone rather than simply take all he could.
The desperation he felt, so sudden, so intense, to cling to her nearly brought him to his knees.
It reminded him of every other time he’d wanted something, only to make a mess of it.
As he would do with Zara.
He pushed the thought away. He had no choice but to succeed with her. But that didn’t mean surrendering to this...thing, this emotion that rioted through his chest.
They could work together. They could be partners. It didn’t have to be like this.
He would explain it to her. Tonight, after the ball, he would explain to her how it would be. A partnership. No feelings. Nothing so unstable, nothing so powerful.
A commitment, a decision, he could control. But he had proved to himself over and over that his heart was unreliable.
He took a breath and looked at Kairos. “If you’ll excuse me,” he said, turning away from his brother, “my fiancée is waiting for me. And she isn’t mad at me.”
“Give it time. And, Andres...”
“What?”
“If you leave during my speech tonight I will be unhappy with you.”
“Then make it interesting.”
* * *
Tonight, she was wearing the pink gown. That fluffy confection that had been fitted to her the first day she was here in the palace. Her dark hair had been tamed into a sleek bun, a tiara resting on her head.
It was so foreign. Yet familiar at the same time. This had been her life once. Parties, beautiful dresses, crowns. She had been royalty in the palace and Tirimia. In her daily life she had only ever felt the distance of royalty, and none of the benefits.
This was different. Tonight, she would stand with the entire royal family. Part of something. Not apart from something. Tonight, Kairos would be announcing that she and Andres were getting married after the Christmas service tomorrow morning, in the old church down in the city.
The most beautiful dress had been created for her. Zara could scarcely believe it had been made up so quickly. It glittered like the snow that fell here in Petras. Lace with little glass beads stitched all over it.
She couldn’t think of anything more beautiful to wear while becoming Andres’s wife. And she couldn’t think of anything more beautiful to wear tonight for when the country found out she was becoming his wife.
And all of it mattered more because she had realized something over the course of the past few days spent in his penthouse. She loved him.
She had no experience of love, that much was true. She didn’t even remember what it felt like to be loved by a family. But that was why she knew what this was. She imagined you never appreciated food more than you did when getting it after you’d been starving. That everything tasted better, each bite more precious, worthy of savoring. You didn’t need to have experience of feasts to understand that you were dining at an exquisite table.
She knew. Knew that this was everything she’d been waiting for.
She’d thought of it as home the other day. Thought of him as home. Had thought of this as destiny, the fulfillment of the promise of her royal birth. She could see now it was more than that. The feeling people talked about when they discussed their homes was love. And as much as you could love a place, she loved a person so much more.
Andres.
Her first foray out of the woods. Her first real human connection, in so long.
Being with him was more healing than time or distance. Being with him, choosing him, forced her to realize that while the clan had certainly been distant, she had been distant, as well.
It wasn’t until Andres that she had reached out.
“Are you ready?”
She turned and saw Andres standing there, looking perfect in an expertly tailored tux. A striking black jacket, a matching bow tie and a crisp white shirt. He was clean shaven, his dark hair brushed off his forehead. He looked less rakish than usual, but he was as devastatingly sexy as ever.
He was going to be her husband. He really was hers, to keep. The very idea made her giddy down to her bones.
She couldn’t recall ever being giddy in her life before this.
“Yes. Ready.”
“This is a massive party. And the service tomorrow will be even bigger. I hope you feel adequately prepared.”
“I don’t know if it’s possible to feel prepared for an event on this magnitude. But I’m not going to revert to an animalistic state and hide under a table.”
“Well, that is reassuring. Though I must say I wasn’t particularly concerned.” He held his hand out and she took it, electricity sparking over her fingertips, straight to her heart as their skin made contact and he pulled her close. He kissed her and the world fell away. “We will have to dance, though.”
“I’m ready if you are.”
He smiled. “I’m always ready.”
She slipped her hand down between them, cupping his arousal. “I know you are.”
A rough sound vibrated in his chest. “You can’t do that. We have to go. Kairos will notice if we’re late.”
“I suppose it’s bad form to upset the king. Especially if he’s about to be your brother-in-law.”
“Very good advice.” He kissed her cheek, then looped his arm through hers, turning them both toward the door. “Advice I would like to ignore.”
“Poor Andres. Forced to behave.”
“We’ll see how long it lasts,” he said. His tone was dry, but it wasn’t as full of humor as his voice often was. There was something strange beneath it. Something she couldn’t identify.
“Do I have to worry about you gnawing on chicken bones?”
He grinned, his expression wicked, and she was forced to admit she might have been imagining the strangeness in his earlier statement. “Possibly. You never can tell.”
They walked down the hall together, staff members bustling to get out of their way as they made their way through the corridors, down to the ballroom. The entire entry to the castle had been transformed. Great boughs of holly and evergreen were draped over banisters, hung over doorways. White lights twinkled on every surface, peeking out from the dark green trees and decorations, giving everything a special glow.
Zara couldn’t remember the last time she had celebrated Christmas like this. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a Christmas tree until this week. They did not celebrate in the same fashion in the clan. It wasn’t part of the traditions. They had celebrated at the palace, and all of this was like a vague, foggy fantasy come to brilliant, glittering life before her eyes.
“It’s magical.”
She looked back at Andres, who looked as though he was suppressing laughter. “I’m very glad you like it.”
“It’s my first Christmas party in...ever. My parents used to throw them at the palace in Tirimia. But I wasn’t invited because I was too young.”
“Well, you aren’t too young now.”
“No.”
“Let’s go inside. Wait until you see the ballroom.”
He led her inside, and she couldn’t help responding to his enthusiasm. As if she needed any encouragement. The ballroom was stunning,