The Prince's Forbidden Bride
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Dear Donetta,
When you told me you were participating in the concorso at Aix-en-Provence in France, I bought this book for your twenty-first birthday. It tells the history of the white Camargue horses of that region. I believe you’ll find it fascinating.
I plan to fly in for your competition and will be staying at the Hotel Cezanne, where you are staying. I’ll ring your room.
We’ll spend as much time together as we can while I’m there. I’m longing to see you again. All the letters and photos have kept me going, but it’s been a century since I kissed you.
Enrico
After reading the book from cover to cover, Donetta kissed Enrico’s letter. It traveled to her purse, her pocket and her pillow. She had it with her when she entered the hotel. This time her staff stayed at a different hotel. So did Lorenzo, who’d flown here with her but had come only to watch her perform, not keep tabs on her.
Once she was in her room, her pulse raced and wouldn’t subside, because she knew she’d be seeing Enrico shortly. She had brought several outfits with her, not knowing what to wear. After much indecision she chose to wear a filmy short-sleeved dress in champagne color and bone-colored sandals.
To please him Donetta left her hair long and flowing from a side part. After applying pink, frosted lipstick, she put on hoop earrings of the same light green color as her eyes. She wanted him to take one look at her and never let her go.
When the room phone rang, she literally jumped before picking up.
“H-Hello?” she stammered.
“Thank heaven your voice hasn’t changed.”
His had grown even deeper. “Neither has yours.”
“Are you ready?”
“Yes,” she answered, almost out of breath.
“Meet me in the lobby in five minutes. I’ve rented a car. We’re going to take off and find a charming spot away from the world where we can be alone.”
Donetta came close to fainting when she saw the man of her dreams standing near the entrance, wearing a tan suit and sports shirt. No man came close to her picture of Enrico, who was the personification of every woman’s dream of a dark-haired prince. At almost twenty-two, he was truly breathtaking and sensuously male.
“Bellissima,” he murmured. His black eyes played over her hungrily before he grasped her hand. They walked to the parking area and got in his car. He drove them out of the city to the suburbs and pulled up to a place called the Patio.
“Before we get out, I have to do this.”
“Enrico—” she cried as he reached for her and his mouth closed over hers. It didn’t seem possible that she was in his arms again and they were giving each other kiss for kiss, unable to get enough.
Evening turned into night as they tried to make up for the years when they hadn’t been able to be together. The letters and photos hadn’t been enough.
“If you’re dying for dinner, we’ll get out of the car, but I don’t want to let you go.”
She shook her head. “I’m only dying for you. After your letter and gift, which I love, I haven’t been able to concentrate on anything. All I want is to be with you.”
“We’re safer here than back at the hotel, where everyone knows us. But this is no way for us to have a relationship. One more year of schooling for both of us and then we can make plans to be together. What if we take a trip after we graduate? How about two weeks to the South Seas or a Caribbean island?”
“I’d give anything to go away with you. Anything!”
“Then we’ll do it. You’re so beautiful, Donetta, I think I’m hallucinating. Kiss me again.”
After another half hour they ended up driving to a store for fruit and some quiche. “I need to get us back to the hotel. You’re performing in the morning and need your sleep.”
“No, I don’t. I only need you.”
The car was their sanctuary. They didn’t go into the hotel until after one. “I’d come to your room, but then you’d never get rid of me and we’d be the target of every eye. I’ll be at the stands in the morning to watch you on Blaze.”
They rode the elevator to the second floor, where he had to get out, but they clung to each other.
“Enrico? How soon do you have to get back to Cambridge?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Why don’t we just drive away right now until you have to be at the airport. I’ll skip the competition.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “You can’t do that. I can’t let you. But we’ll be together all day tomorrow.” Enrico let her go and stepped out into the hall. He looked back. “Meet me in the lobby at seven and we’ll go somewhere for breakfast before you have to report to the stands.”
“Don’t go, Enrico. I’m afraid.”
He frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Because I’m too happy.”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word yet. Buona notte e sogni d’ oro, Donetta.”
Golden dreams. She’d been living in one since they’d met in the lobby. “Buona notte, Enrico.”
The elevator door closed and carried her to the third floor. When she reached her room, the phone was ringing. She rushed to answer it. “Enrico?”
“Good. You’re home safe and sound for tonight. I’ll be dreaming of you.”
“I dream of you every night,” she confessed.
“One of these days we won’t have to do that anymore.”
He clicked off.
She was slower to hang up. If he meant what she thought he’d meant, he wasn’t just talking about a two-week vacation. Filled with elation, she whirled around the room before settling down long enough to undress and get to bed.
CHAPTER ONE
THERE WAS NO sight more beautiful to Crown Prince Enrico da Francesca di Montedoro than the island country of Vallefiore. In the early morning light, the sun’s first rays appeared like fingers over the magnificent vertiginous mountains and sparkling waterfalls.
From his vantage point atop the highest peak, he could see his country was surrounded by the deep blue waters of the Ionian Sea splashing against rocky shoreline cliffs and hidden grottoes.
He’d always likened his country to a dazzling blue-green jewel whose lakes and villages made up its many facets, including the plains where the wild Sanfratellano horses ran free.
His eyes followed the lay of the land over rolling hills and orchards to palm-studded sand. Everything could grow here in its subtropical climate. But as his father, King Nuncio, had told Enrico when he was a boy, without more fresh water to irrigate, it couldn’t flourish as it should.
From that day on, Enrico had a dream that one day he’d find a way to bring much-needed water to all parts of the eleven-thousand-square-mile island. Now, at the age of twenty-seven, he and his cousin Giovanni, always his best friend and now his personal assistant, were slowly fulfilling that dream.
Today he’d come to the topmost point of the new water treatment plant to talk to the foreman, Giuseppe, and work out a few small problems. They talked for several hours and discussed the results of the huge project he and Giovanni had developed. At this point other countries wanted to adopt it.
After saying goodbye to the foreman, he climbed back in his Land Rover, surrounded by his bodyguards. He headed down the mountain for the palace in Saracene an hour away. The capital city was located on Lake Saracene, the large, brilliant light green body of water resembling those in the tropics.
Donetta possessed eyes that same color. He remembered the last time he’d looked into them before kissing her senseless. Those two days in Aix-en-Provence had been heaven. She’d once again won another competition, filling him with pride. He’d come close to kidnapping her for good before he came to his senses.
Consumed with ideas for the two of them after graduation, he’d returned to Cambridge more anxious than ever to finish his studies and fulfill his desire to be with her on a permanent basis.
But right before his graduation, his world had come close to falling apart when he’d learned the tragic news that his father had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and his mother needed him. He had to fly home immediately and forgo his graduation ceremony.
What made the situation worse was his mother’s insistence that the palace keep the world in the dark over the king’s diagnosis. She didn’t want the citizenry to learn that the disease had taken over completely and he could no longer function. This meant Enrico was forced to settle into his duties as crown prince the second the jet touched down.
Enrico was put under further pressure when his mother arranged for Valentina to be a visitor to the palace. The queen was demanding he marry her. Both sets of parents had been good friends for years and she expected Enrico to propose immediately. At the time of the marriage, an official coronation would make Enrico king. Only then would it be revealed that King Nuncio was ill.
Enrico had no intention of marrying Valentina, but the visits had been captured in the news, creating the excitement of a coming royal wedding for the country. To end this nightmare, he’d told his mother there would be no wedding in the foreseeable future while he was attempting to run the affairs of the kingdom.
His desire to take Donetta on a two-week trip had been thwarted by circumstances beyond his control. In his next letter to her, he told her the vacation would have to be put off and he wouldn’t be writing any letters for a while.
Without giving away the secret about his father, he explained his work for the country had become too involved. When the time came, he would get in touch with her again.
He’d received a response that said she understood how busy he must be and hoped to see him again soon. “I miss you, Enrico.” He could hear her voice that tugged on his heart. That was the last letter from her.
Now it was five years later and he still couldn’t stop thinking about her and wishing they could meet again. Did she still miss him? How would they really feel about each other after such a long absence?
At the age of eighteen Enrico had already made up his mind over the woman he wanted in his life. In his wildest fantasy he’d even dreamed of Donetta becoming his bride, despite knowing such a marriage would raise a furor with their families.
Because of the two-hundred-year-old dispute that had made their countries enemies, Enrico had never told anyone about her except his cousin. But not even Giovanni knew the extent of Enrico’s feelings.
Enrico needed to find out how much of their relationship had been driven by rebellion, and how much had been based on a genuine and deep love for the each other. Ever since he’d competed on one of his special horses in an international concorso ippico held in England, he’d admired Princess Donetta Rossiano’s ability in the dressage event.
For a ten-year-old she was a marvel, much better than any of the guys on all the teams represented from around the world. He’d approached to tell her so and was struck by the shimmering green color of her eyes, which had grown fierier as she’d matured.
She, in turn, had complimented him and had admired his horse. As they’d talked, she’d asked lots of questions about the breed he’d chosen, revealing her exceptional intelligence.
Enjoying her company, he’d spent time with her at the various tracks after each concorso. He liked being with her when she trained before an event. Drawn to her like crazy, he’d laughed and flirted. Her discipline and composure made Donetta stand out from the others. He’d been fascinated.
Over the years Enrico had watched the beautiful princess from Domodossola with the long, flowing silvery gold hair compete in dozens of concorsos just as he had. By the age of twenty-one she was all grown up, with a keen intellect and opinions on subjects that kept him riveted. On top of everything else she was the best jumper and by far the most stunning young woman he’d ever seen or known.
There was no woman like her and he had to see her again. Although she no longer competed in concorsos, she now ran the equestrian organization for her country’s entrants.
A month ago Giovanni had suggested Enrico travel with him to Madrid, Spain, to watch their country’s participants and horses perform in the day’s events. Though Donetta might not be there, Enrico made the decision to go anyway.
It was late in the day when he finally caught sight of her near the stable. At least he thought it was Donetta, but wasn’t sure until she turned around to talk to someone. To his shock she’d cut her long, diaphanous hair. It had been styled to form a feather cut that framed her beautiful face.
One look and he knew his attraction for the five-foot-seven blonde beauty had only intensified over the years. His pulse rate accelerated. When she saw him, her fabulous green eyes darkened with emotion.
“Enrico—”
“It’s been five years, Donetta.” Thank heaven there was no ring on her finger.
She smiled, but the element of excitement was missing in her eyes. “Now we’re all grown up.”
Yes, they were. Her womanly figure took his breath away.
“Your Sanfratellano horses are still making winners out of your riders.”
He cocked his dark head. “It appears your country is celebrating another champion, too, but she didn’t ride like you did at the concorso in Aix. I’ll never forget our time together.” Nor the way she’d filled his arms during those two days in France. “How long are you going to be in Madrid?”
“I should have left five minutes ago. The limo is waiting to take me to the airport as we speak.”
Her answer came as a huge disappointment. “You have to leave right now? When I saw your country’s name on the list for this competition, I came specifically to see you.”
By the way she held herself taut, he knew this meeting had shaken her as much as it had him. “Knowing how busy you’ve been helping your father run the country, I’m surprised you could get away.”
He sucked in his breath. “I deserved that, Donetta. If we could go out to dinner and have some private time together, I need to apologize to you for so many things.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t say that to be mean-spirited. You don’t owe me anything, Enrico. We were young, we had our fling behind our parents’ backs. Those years were magical for me, but we both knew our real destiny was still out there waiting for us. But I have to admit I was shocked when you stopped writing. It hurt more than you know to realize that day had come for you.”
“There were reasons,” he whispered.
“You think I don’t know that?” She let out an audible sigh. “I’m glad to see you again. It’s such a surprise. You look wonderful.”
“So do you, bellissima. I’d give anything if you didn’t have to go yet.”
“I’m sorry, but my staff is waiting for me and we’re on a tight schedule. I’m grateful you came. Seeing you has given me closure. Addio per sempre, Enrico.”
Goodbye for good? If she thought that, she had another think coming.
He watched her walk away on those long, slender legs until he couldn’t see her anymore. Damn if she wasn’t more gorgeous than any woman had a right to be.
Enrico had admired Donetta through a boy’s eyes, but now he was a twenty-seven-year-old man and recognized those feelings for her had taken root at an early age. They’d never gone away.
No matter how bad his father’s Alzheimer’s had become, it was time to do something about the way he still felt about Donetta. But Madrid hadn’t been the place to reconnect. She’d dropped an impenetrable shield around herself, with good reason.
He needed time and privacy so she couldn’t dismiss him, because that was exactly what she’d done. It was his fault. By ending the letter writing at the time, he’d left her to believe he’d gone on to follow the path his parents had outlined for him. Enrico couldn’t blame her for anything and needed to start over again with her.
On the flight back to Vallefiore with Giovanni, Enrico broke his silence over coffee and confided his long-held secret to his cousin. “I fell for Donetta when she was only ten years old. I would have married her after college if Papà hadn’t already been so ill and needed me.”
His cousin nodded. “I suspected that was the reason for all the letter writing. But the queen would never allow such a marriage. As if the bitter enmity between our two countries weren’t reason enough, I’m afraid she’s going to have a coronary when you don’t marry Valentina.”
“It’s my life. I want Donetta. Always have. Seeing her again has let me know she’s the one for me.”
“Have you said as much to her?”
“Not in so many words.”
Giovanni sat forward. “Why not?”
“I intend to the next time I see her.”
“Next time? Did she ever admit she was in love with you?”
“No. If she had, I would have run away with her.” He’d hoped to hear those words when they’d been in Spain, but they hadn’t come, probably because Donetta was wary of him. Deep down it had bothered him. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”
“Because I’m afraid I have bad news for you about her.”
“What do you mean? I’ve kept track of her and I know she’s not married yet.” Enrico had always followed news about her and her family. Today he had the proof she wasn’t attached to any man. Not yet…
“That’s true, but you’re still out of luck.”
“Stop speaking in riddles.”
Giovanni’s eyes were as black as Enrico’s. “You could never have married her.”
“What are you saying?”
“I hate to tell you this, but I have it on the best authority that Princess Donetta has turned down every proposal ever received because she never plans to marry!”
Enrico shook his head. “Come on, Giovanni. It’s me you’re talking to.”
“Don’t I know it, so you have to take me seriously. Get this—she’s living for the day when Domodossola’s laws of succession change to allow women to rule. She wants to be queen.”
“That could never happen.”
“You and I know that. Nevertheless, up to this point in time she has wanted to reign and reign alone. No husband. That’s why she’s our age and still single!”
With that explanation, Enrico burst into laughter. That didn’t sound like the Donetta who’d shared her feelings with him on paper. What he’d just heard was ridiculous, and yet it wasn’t beyond possible that she did want to change her country’s rules established over centuries. Besides her brains and beauty, she was the most unique woman he’d ever known.
The woman did have strong opinions that excited him, but he had no idea she was so ambitious.
“Tell me, Giovanni. How do you know all this?”
“Because I have a secret, too. As you know, your father put me in charge of the Sanfratellano Horses Federation when I was only twenty. He wanted our country to have a presence at all the international concorsos.”
Enrico nodded. “I told him you should be the head since you knew the most about them. It made me very happy when you accepted the position.”
Giovanni had been the right person to head their lucrative horse breeding business unique to the island. The Montedoro family had been renowned for over a thousand years for their fabulous Sanfratellano horses, which boasted a distinguished pedigree. They brought buyers to their stable from all over the world.
“I was happy about it, too. Once college was behind us, I got busy planning the schedule for our country’s participation in more competitions when I wasn’t helping you. As you know, I traveled to the various concorsos on the list and met Princess Fausta Rossiano in Paris last fall at a competition.”
“Donetta’s sister was there?”
“Yes. She came with their aunt and Donetta, who was in charge of her country’s entrants. From what I’ve been told, the two sisters are thick as thieves. They look a lot alike. I guess our Montedoro genes are tuned into a certain type of woman. Fausta is a knockout, too.”
“I agree,” Enrico said.
“Naturally I wanted to get to know her better. But her best friend, Mia Giancarlo, whose father is an international banker I’ve worked with, gave me some private info about the two sisters that was fascinating.”
“Go on.”
“Mia told me that Fausta won’t date any royals and would refuse to go out with me. It seems she has turned down many royal proposals because—get this—she plans to marry a commoner!”
“Are you putting me on?” Enrico demanded.
“I swear not. That’s when Mia told me that Donetta has refused to marry for the reasons I just explained. It seems the only normal sister is the youngest one, Princess Lanza. She’s now married to Prince Stefano of Umbriano,”
“That’s right.” A whistle escaped Enrico’s lips.
But Enrico wouldn’t allow this gossip to thwart him. In his gut he knew Donetta had loved him. He was determined to pursue her at any cost. Giovanni had given him enough information to offer her something she wouldn’t be able to turn down.
“I’m going to create a situation where we can be legitimately together so I can propose. The truth is, I can’t get her out of my head. I’ve been a fool to pretend to be doing my duty when all these years she’s been the one.”
“I guess if anyone can try to persuade her, it’s you. But you’re forgetting your mother. She’ll forbid it.”
“I’ll remind Mamma that she had her opportunity to reject or accept my father’s proposal when the time came. Now it’s my turn.”
“Good luck with that.”
It was evening when they arrived at the palace grounds and parked outside the west wing. Their bodyguards followed in another car. He and Giovanni shared a suite of offices where he could get busy plotting before they went to their own apartments to sleep.
“I’ve come up with a solution to get her here, Giovanni. Don’t go to bed yet. Our country has never hosted a concorso. What do you say we plan the most spectacular event ever put on in any country? I realize it will take time and effort, but it will be worth it.”
A long silence ensued while his cousin eyed him through narrowed lids. “You crafty devil.”
* * *
“How are you feeling on this beautiful July day, Papà?” Twenty-seven-year-old Donetta had served herself breakfast at the huntboard in the small dining room of the palace and sat down at the table with her parents and sister Fausta.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you?” She flashed her mother a glance for verification. Her father had a heart condition he’d finally admitted to after their youngest sister Lanza had gotten married to Prince Stefano of Umbriano on New Year’s Day.
“He’s upset that Stefano had to fly to Argentina over mining business yesterday,” Fausta explained. “Papà doesn’t know how long he’ll be gone, and this time Lanza went with him.”
Lanza had been their father’s pet forever, but since marrying Stefano, she went everywhere she could with her husband. Lanza’s childhood crush on Stefano had turned into a love he reciprocated. They were crazy about each other, but their father missed her and didn’t seem as happy these days.
“He had to go,” Donetta reasoned. “What’s really troubling you?”
Her father, King Victor of the country of Domodossola, looked down and frowned. “Since their wedding, Stefano has been much busier running his mining interests than I thought he’d be.”
Donetta could have told him as much. Her father had hoped his new son-in-law would take over a lot of the responsibilities of governing, but Prince Stefano was a gold mining engineer. He’d brought much-needed funds to his country of Umbriano in the Alps, and now to their Kingdom of Domodossola on the French-Swiss-Italian border.
Marrying her younger sister Lanza hadn’t changed what he did for a living, even though he tried to give their father as much of his time as he could when he was home.