One Night Before the Royal Wedding by Sharon Kendrick

Author:Sharon Kendrick
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-11-23T12:52:15+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

SOFT SUNLIGHT FLICKERED over the profuse spill of roses, bathing the famous gardens in a rich golden glow as Zabrina stared out of the vast windows.

But no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the beauty outside, or on the small dish of fruit on the table in front of her, it was difficult to focus on anything other than the devastatingly handsome man who was seated opposite. The morning light was glinting on his cropped dark hair, making her realise how much it had grown, and his snowy white shirt emphasised the muscular width of his shoulders.

Suddenly he pushed his empty coffee cup away and leaned back in his chair to study her. Was he aware she’d been watching him with a hungry desire which wouldn’t seem to go away? And did that fill him with a sense of triumph—and power?

‘Today’s the big day, isn’t it?’ he said.

Zabrina gazed at him blankly. The only ‘big day’ which seemed to be on everyone’s lips wasn’t for another three weeks—unless somebody had brought the wedding forward and not bothered to tell the bride. She hoped not, because there were still what looked like five million seed pearls to sew onto her traditional Petrogorian wedding dress and sequins which needed to be scattered all over her tulle veil. She picked up her silver spoon, still trying to get used to the enormous emerald and diamond engagement ring which felt too heavy for her finger. ‘Big day?’ she repeated.

‘Your horse,’ he said. ‘What time does it arrive?’

‘He. The horse is a he, not an it,’ Zabrina corrected, watching as a servant silently moved forward to refill the King’s cup with inky-black coffee. ‘And his name is Midas.’

‘Ah!’ He picked up a sugar cube. ‘Named after the king who wished for an excess of gold and almost ruined his life in the process?’

‘That’s the one.’

He lifted his dark brows in arrogant query. ‘Perhaps there is an allegory in that story for us, Zabrina.’

‘Let’s hope not,’ she said darkly.

A brief smile curved the edges of his lips as he dropped the sugar into the cup and began to stir and Zabrina found herself mesmerised by the circular movement of his fingers, wondering how he could make such a simple action look so insanely sexy. But then, he made just about everything he did look sexy. Was that deliberate? Was he taunting her? Reminding her of that heart-punching intimacy they’d shared on the Petrogoria-bound train, which was now being put on hold until they were married?

Stop it, she thought. Just stop it. You are supposed to be having a polite breakfast conversation about the day ahead.

The kind of measured diary conversation they’d been having every morning since she’d arrived in Petrogoria last week. This was the public face of their formal engagement, as opposed to the private anxieties which plagued her every night when she was alone in bed.

Over coffee, fruit and eggs over easy—for him—they would go through the various royal duties which had been mapped out for them by their private offices—some together and some apart.

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