The Royal Marriage. Fiona Hood-Stewart

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You have come here to inspect me, as you might a filly, because Father wants you to marry me. I don’t know why he has taken this idea into his head, but you could have saved yourself the trouble of your journey. I find it rather amusing that you should travel halfway across the world on a fool’s errand.’

      ‘You don’t say?’ Ricardo’s voice was smoothly sardonic. His brow rose once more and he leaned back against the cushions, preparing to enjoy himself. Both beautiful and amusing. And in need of a sharp lesson. Had he been at home in his palazzo, his retinue would have rolled their eyes, aware of the danger signs. HRH was charming, but when crossed…

      ‘Yes,’ Gabriella continued obliviously. ‘My advice to you is that you tell him right away that you don’t agree to the plan. It’ll make this so much simpler for all of us.’ She took a long sip of champagne, sat back languidly on the sofa and flicked an invisible speck of dust from the skirt of her dress.

      ‘Then you will be glad to know that I already have,’ Ricardo replied smoothly, masking his amusement.

      ‘You did?’ The sophisticated camouflage dropped for a few surprised seconds, and he watched, intrigued, as her pride wobbled and the wind was neatly taken out of her sails.

      ‘Yes. Like you, I find the whole idea of a planned marriage with a stranger intolerable, and I entirely agree that it is far better to scotch any illusions your father may have right away. I’m glad we both feel the same way,’ he added with a warm smile.

      ‘Uh, yes, of course. But didn’t you know why he’d asked you to come?’

      ‘Actually, no. I only learned the reason a few minutes ago. But don’t worry. I made quite sure there could be no doubt as to my reply. I have no desire to get married. Much less to an unknown nineteen-year-old,’ he finished lazily.

      Gabriella seethed inwardly. How dared he talk to her like this? She sent him back a bright brittle smile that revealed a row of perfect white teeth. ‘That’s wonderful. I’m so glad we see things eye to eye. Lucky, isn’t it?’

      ‘Isn’t it? So, you see, now we can relax and you can tell me all about this place. After all, as you so rightly pointed out, I have came all this way on a wild goose chase, and I might as well spend a few days getting to know the region. I’ve never been to this part of Brazil before.’

      ‘Naturally you must stay,’ Gabriella replied, quickly retrieving her poise, once again the perfect hostess.

      This man, she realised uncomfortably, was nothing like the picture she’d created in her imaginative mind. He was neither fat nor ugly, nor did he leer. Well, actually, she’d known that already, from having read about him in glossy magazines. But still. Not only was he devastatingly and disturbingly handsome, but there was something about him that attracted her in a way she’d never experienced before.

      And he had the nerve to make it quite clear he wasn’t interested in her!

      That had never happened before. Since her early childhood Gabriella Guimaraes had been brought up to consider herself a rare beauty, a wealthy heiress, and a great catch. It came as a disconcerting blow to realise he was watching her rather as he might an amusing puppy. Well, that would not last long, she determined. A glint entered her emerald-tinted eyes as she leaned forward to reach for her glass, making sure she revealed a little more bronzed leg. He might not want to marry her, but she would make damn sure he knew exactly who he was dealing with. Gabriella Guimaraes was used to crooking her finger and watching all the young men she knew crawl, drooling, at her feet. She was not about to see that change.

      Prince or no Prince.

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE horses moved abreast of one another, one white, one chestnut, galloping across the wet sand and kicking up a spray as they raced along the beach towards the setting sun, which was etched like a stark ball of fire on the pink horizon.

      Ricardo had spent a pleasant day driving around the estate with Gonzalo. Then they’d returned for a late lunch of ensopado de camarao, a delicious dish of shrimp stew prepared with coconut milk, accompanied by white rice, black beans and farofa—a preparation of manioc flour and butter—and washed down with a Caipirinha—sugar cane alcohol with crushed lime and ice.

      Then, after a siesta, Gonzalo had suggested Ricardo and Gabriella take a ride.

      ‘Take your swimming shorts,’ Gonzalo had said to Ricardo, ‘and you can have a swim—either in the ocean or at the cachoeira. Gabriella will show you. She goes there regularly.’

      And now here they were, galloping along the ocean’s edge, the scent of the sea filling their nostrils, a soft wind caressing their skin.

      ‘Follow me.’ Gabriella twisted around in her saddle and called out suddenly. Then, changing direction, she headed up the beach and galloped inland, towards a tropical landscape of heavy vegetation that reminded him of the rainforest. Soon they were moving at a slower pace along a path through a maze of tropical trees interspersed with glimmers of red sunlight. Ricardo followed, watching the slim figure in the saddle before him, her hair catching the glinting light.

      Then, when he least expected it, the thick vegetation gave way and they rode into a clearing. To his surprise Ricardo saw a small natural lake, at the far end of which a waterfall cascaded over stark rocks into silent dark green waters. It was extraordinarily beautiful.

      ‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Gabriella exclaimed proudly, leaping off her horse. ‘This is where we’ll swim.’

      ‘It’s amazing,’ Ricardo agreed, following suit and leaving his horse to graze as she had, watching her as once again she slipped off her clothes. He stood a moment appreciating the view: her body was spectacular, bronzed and smooth, her limbs long and lithe, her yellow bikini tiny. Yet there was nothing provocative in her stance. She was graceful and sexy, yet he got the impression she was not fully aware of just how sexy she actually was. He took a deep breath, then removed his own jeans and joined her at the water’s edge.

      Gabriella flashed him a quick, challenging smile. ‘Race you to the other side,’ she said, diving expertly in.

      With no hesitation Ricardo followed. They were head-to-head when he realised Gabriella was an excellent swimmer. But soon he was several strokes ahead, and waiting for her when she reached the other side.

      Her head emerged from the water, hair sleeked back, eyes flashing. Ricardo grinned wickedly as they faced one another. A rush of desire coursed through him as she stood with the water barely reaching her hips, arched, then sank and dipped her head back in the water again, revealing the perfect curve of her small, firm breasts.

      ‘You’re not a bad swimmer for a prince,’ she remarked with a pout as she straightened up again.

      ‘What has my being a prince got to do with my swimming abilities?’ He laughed, watching as she waded into even shallower water, her movements emphasising the curves of her exquisite figure.

      ‘Nothing.’ She shrugged, laughing too. ‘I just thought that a prince would stay in a stuffy palace and be terribly correct. You don’t seem prince-like at all.’

      ‘Well, I’m glad I’ve restored your faith in princes,’ Ricardo replied, amused. ‘I do that too—being correct and stuffy, I mean—but not right now.’ Instinctively he moved closer to her, the desire to touch her, to feel that delicious skin and that body in his arms overwhelming.

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