“No, you won’t confront him,” Candace interrupted her pity party. “There’s no reason to put yourself through that. And he might have her with him.”
Madeline flinched. Good point. She didn’t really want to come face-to-face with the woman who would be living her dream.
“Your Dear John generously gave him an easy out—which is more than he deserved, if you ask me. I think you should have skewered his nuts and roasted them over the barbecue.” Candace held up her hands. “I know. I know. He made no promises. I got the stringless affair part the first time you explained it. And even though I thought it was a dumb idea, I really thought he was the right guy for you, Madeline. I’ve never seen you as happy. And I’m seriously peeved over being wrong.”
At Vincent’s signal Madeline and Candace raced to the car stopped by the curb and scooted in, and then Vincent turned around and looked at Madeline over the back of the seat. Her stomach sank at his serious expression.
“The hotel called. Rossi’s back.”
Chapter 11
Twenty-four more hours and she’d be gone.Madeline kept to the outer fringes of the large private garden housing the wedding reception. An hour ago she’d completed her bridesmaid duties. The happy couple had danced their first dance and cut the cake. By this time tomorrow Madeline would be winging her way back to the States.
She didn’t understand why Dominic was still looking for her unless it was to return her passport—an item he could easily leave at the hotel’s front desk. Last night he’d shown up uninvited at the posh Italian Restaurant where the dinner following Candace and Vincent’s civil service had been held and demanded to speak to her. Luckily, Madeline had spotted him before he’d seen her, and she’d been able to make a hasty exit out a side door through the kitchens and into the back alley.
Today she’d been so tense during the religious ceremony at the cathedral that she’d barely heard the service. She’d kept expecting Dominic to burst through the doors, and she’d startled at every sound. She felt guilty as hell for tainting her friend’s special event with unpleasant thoughts, but Candace, bless her, was taking Madeline’s distraction in stride.
During the past week Madeline had adopted Amelia’s habit of watching entertainment TV and reading the English tabloid papers. She kept waiting for news of Dominic’s engagement to break.
Wait a minute. Madeline dropped the leaf she’d been folding like sloppy origami. According to what she’d overheard in Dominic’s suite last Saturday, the official announcement of his engagement would be made tonight at a gala in Luxembourg. Loss weighted her stomach and goose bumps crept over her skin despite the sunny day and comfortable temperatures. She hugged her silk stole around her bare shoulders.
If Dominic was there, he couldn’t be here. Right?
Right. So she didn’t need to hide out here in the dappled shade of the lemon trees. She could rejoin the party and celebrate her friend’s happiness.
She could even find it in her battered heart to be happy for Mike because he’d deserved more than the indifferent emotion—Dominic had diagnosed her failed engagement well—Madeline had offered. And her feelings for Mike had been indifferent, she admitted, because she’d held back and never fully committed her heart. He was still a jerk for cheating, but part of the failure of their relationship rested squarely on her shoulders.
Picking up her discarded bouquet from the stone bench, she made her way back across the flagstones to the center of the patio and stopped by Candace’s side. Her friend’s radiant smile faded and a worried look took its place.
Madeline hugged her. “Don’t look like that. I am happy for you. Both of you.”
And she meant it. Just because her dreams hadn’t come true didn’t mean she couldn’t be thrilled her friends’ had.
Candace took her hand. “You know I love you, right?”
Madeline stiffened. The back of her neck prickled. Why did that sound ominous? “Candace…?”
Madeline shot an anxious glance toward the château and spotted Makos. Her breath left in a whoosh. She turned toward the back corner of the garden where she’d been hiding, and saw Fernand yards away from her hiding spot. She then saw Ian in the opposite corner. Panic fluttered in her belly and squeezed her lungs. She spun left, right, searching for an exit, but every escape route had been blocked by a bodyguard. Members of the royal security team wore blank faces and had stiff bearings. Her years of exposure to law enforcement officers made them easy for her to pick out of the crowd.
Gulp. “Dominic’s here,” she croaked.
Candace’s fingers tightened. “Yes.”
Bewildered, Madeline stared at her friend and tried to comprehend the betrayal.
She had to get out of here.
Toby blocked her path, parked a big paw on her shoulder. “Hear him out, Madeline. And then if you still want me to, I’ll beat the crap out of him.”
Madeline scanned the faces around her. Amelia and Toby, Candace and Vincent, Stacy and Franco. Were they all in on this? She clenched her teeth on a panicked, furious cry.
The bodyguards closed in until she was surrounded by a circle of dark-suited men. Three she could handle. A dozen? Probably not. Her heart raced, her mouth dried and adrenaline flooded her bloodstream.
Run, her conscience screamed.
No, dammit, I am no coward. I am through running. But I can’t let him know how much he’s hurt me. Madeline closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, fighting to still the tremors racking her. When she lifted her lids Dominic stood inside the circle and only two yards away. He wore a black suit with what she now recognized as Montagnarde’s gold crest on the breast and a white open-collared shirt. His brushed-back hair accentuated his smooth-shaven jaw, but beneath his tan his face looked pale. A thin, white line rimmed his mouth and his blue eyes stared somberly into hers.
The silver-haired man, Dominic’s father, stood to Dominic’s right, the bald guy to his left.
“Why aren’t you in Luxembourg?” she choked out.
“Father, this is the woman who held a knife to my throat and threatened my life,” Dominic announced clearly, distinctly and loud enough for the crowd surrounding them to hear.
The guests’ gasps barely registered. Why would he cause a scene? He knew how much she hated publicity. Madeline lifted her chin. “Tattletale. You asked for it.”
Dominic’s father stepped forward. “Mademoiselle, in Montagnarde threatening the life of a monarch is a serious offense.”
That wasn’t news. She narrowed her eyes. She looked from one man to the other. Why were they replaying this?
“There is only one way to commute the sentence,” the bald guy said. “The accused must look the victim in the eye and swear she doesn’t love him.”
Her heart stopped. In a second someone was going to have to start CPR. But then her heart spontaneously jolted back into rhythm which meant she had to live through this instead of conveniently dying of mortification.
She sought Dominic’s gaze. How could he ask that of her? How could he publicly humiliate her this way? “And if I refuse to participate in this ridiculous charade?”
Posture erect and looking totally regal, he closed the gap between them, stopping a foot away. “You stole from me, Madeline Spencer.”
Confused, she blinked and shook her head. “Ian gave me that handkerchief and you bought me this bracelet. I never took anything else.”
“You took the most important thing.” His eyes and mouth softened. “You took my heart.”
She gasped and struggled to make sense of his words. Was this a cruel joke? Was he going to marry his princess and ask Madeline to be his mistress or something? She glanced at Candace and saw tears streaming down her friend’s smiling face.
She turned back to Dominic. “What about your bride-to-be? The one the council chose? The one who’s supposed to wear your grandmother’s ring? The one you’re supposed to get engaged to tonight, for Pete’s sake?”
Dominic’s gaze didn’t waver. “I agreed to marry without love because I never believed I would find it again.”
A smile lifted one corner of his mouth. He lifted a hand and cradled her face. She wanted so badly to lean into his touch that it took all her strength to jerk away.
“When you held that knife to my throat you changed my life, Madeline. I have never known a woman with your courage. No other woman treats me like a man instead of a monarch. And no other woman loves me as completely and unselfishly as you do.”
She flinched. He knew. A lie of denial sprang to her lips, but the intense emotion in his eyes made her forget the words.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Madeline. Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll walk away.”
She wanted to believe. God, she wanted to believe what she thought he was saying. Her breath shuddered in and then out.
“I’m not a virgin. And you know it,” she whispered.
His eyes twinkled with laughter. “Good thing that’s not a requirement.”
Her eyes and chest burned. She blinked rapidly to keep the tears—happy, hopeful tears—at bay and extended her arms, wrists together. “I guess you’re going to have to cuff me and take me into custody. Because I can’t lie.”
Dominic’s eyes widened. Surprise and happiness filled their depths and a brief smile flashed across his lips before he once more donned the serious mask. “Then I hereby sentence you to life, Madeline Spencer. Life with me.”
He dropped to his knee and bowed his head. For a moment it looked as if he said a silent prayer. Then Dominic’s gold-tipped lashes lifted and his bedroom blue eyes found hers. “Marry me, Madeline. Be my friend. My lover. My wife. And one day, my queen.”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew an exquisite emerald ring in an antique-looking gold setting.
She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips. A warm tear slid over her fingertip. “You forgot your handcuffs?”
He grinned. “I promise I’ll find them later if you say yes.”
She looked at Dominic’s father and found acceptance and even approval in his face. “You’re okay with this? Clearly, I’m not princess material.”
“I beg to differ, mademoiselle. Now give my son the answer he desires.”
She stared into the face of the man she loved, the man who’d stolen her heart in a matter of moments. “I always thought I wanted an on-your-knees proposal. But I was wrong.”
Uncertainty flickered in Dominic’s eyes.
“It’s not how the proposal is delivered that matters. It’s who’s asking the question.” She caressed his cheek, cupped his smooth jaw and stroked a finger over his lips. “Get up, Dominic. I refuse to have this discussion unless we’re eye-to-eye, face-to-face and heart-to-heart.”
He slowly rose.
“You are such a romantic. I love it. And I love you.” She rose on her tiptoes and brushed her lips to his. She tasted tears. “Yes, Dominic, I’ll marry you.”
His arms banded around her with crushing force and he lifted her off the ground. The crowd surrounding them let out a deafening cheer.